CHAPTER TWELVE: DAEDALUS AND THE BELIEVERS

Nowadays, Nabiki tired out easily.

Ranma remembered how she had told him that her mother had been like this too toward the end. They had been at Himonya together talking about implied lines and confrontational planes. In the present, he shuddered inside as he held Nabiki close and tried to redirect his thoughts.

She had fallen asleep with her head on his shoulder. She was smartly dressed in her finest cool weather clothes: a navy and grey plaid print overcoat over a crème-colored knit turtleneck, a heavy, grey midi-length A-line wool skirt, and black knee-length block-heeled leather boots. The sketch pad with the vision of her mother at Niomon was clutched in her arms, which were folded tightly against her chest.

They were sitting beside one another on the Saturday morning train bound from Meguro to Nerima. As the two of them had agreed, she had telephoned home a few days before calling for a formal family meeting to lay everything out in the open. This would be her first time back since leaving for Todai now nearly eight months ago. For him, it would be the first time since he had left for Kyoto and Akane had ended the engagement.

As Ranma had long suspected, Nabiki confirmed that the Tendou family was old high-ranking samurai stock. That was why they still had their land and the dojo in the middle of a modern Tokyo ward as affluent as Nerima; why Tendou-san remained on the local municipal council despite not having a regular job or other typical qualifications for the position; why the family would still ever enter into such an antiquated type of agreement as the Tendou-Saotome arrangement.

More importantly, that was why someone like Nabiki was never going to be the kind of daughter or sister that such a family would favor. How much they did or didn't love her was immaterial and irrelevant where that simple fact was concerned.

Nabiki had to confront her father on those terms, and she had to do that alone. Otherwise, there would be no chance of her father ever taking her seriously or giving her the respect she had so long wanted. She would remain in his eyes a little, inconvenient Malcolm-in-the-middle, patronized or tucked away based on what he alone as the family patriarch thought best.

There was another reason now too that she wanted to confront her father. She wanted to be able to talk openly about the future that she and Ranma had come to hope for and desire.

"Weren't your parents a love match though?" Ranma had asked. The irony confused him. He reminded Nabiki of what the ghost at Nishi Otani had told him about her father.

He's just a boy who fell in love with a girl too, but he's a good person who's only ever wanted to do the right thing. It's just that sometimes the "right thing" is not so easy to see.

Nabiki nodded; that was how Ranma had convinced her that she and her father still had things to say to one another. "I need to talk to him for myself anyway. Akane too. Don't worry though. I told you that I love you; I will be with you no matter what happens now."

In the present, Ranma shook himself and forced his thoughts to turn to something more pleasant. He closed his eyes and thought of the days that they had spent together after that night on the rooftop of her dorm. Time had slowed as things settled into an intimate, peaceful routine that felt beautifully normal. In that unexpected safe space filled with tender, heartfelt warmth, he finally tasted the true meaning of beauty and possibilities.

# # # # #

It was called Daedalus.

Nabiki was perched on the edge of the examination table listening as the doctor explained. Ranma was by her side holding her left hand in his right in a gesture of support. They smirked knowingly at one another as they heard the name.

The call that Nabiki had stopped Ranma from picking up the other morning had been from the medical oncologist's office. They wanted to let her know that a potential donor had been identified. Now they were here at Hongo listening as the doctor told them about an experimental approach that could potentially increase the odds of long-term cure to something much better than 1 in 5.

The idea was to take the donor's marrow and reprogram it with a cassette of engineered mutations. The reconstituted immune system derived from the genetically modified donor marrow would possess potent anti-tumor specificity, and the HLA type would be improved to a near perfect match with the recipient. The potential risks for graft-versus-host disease and rejection would be reduced dramatically. A cured state could even potentially be achieved without the need for the usual toxic, immunosuppressive post-transplant maintenance medications.

"Has this actually been tried outside of a lab before?" Nabiki asked.

The doctor nodded. Her name was Sato, and she was young, driven and ambitious. Daedalus was a concept she had brought back to Todai and Riken after recently completing an advanced fellowship at the Farber in Boston. The Americans had already tried the approach in a dozen or so other people. The first recipient was still disease-free after six years and not taking any medications at all. Two other patients at Todai had also recently received modified transplants; they were doing well too.

"What's the catch?" Ranma asked, fixing the doctor with a suspicious gaze. It sounded too good to be true, like nannichuan being sent from Jusenkyo to Nerima.

Beyond the usual risks associated with receiving a conventional transplant, the additional risks for the modified transplant appeared to be minimal based on experience at Farber and with the two Todai patients. The CRISPR-Cas12 technology that would be used to introduce the targeted mutations carried an inherent theoretical risk of inadvertently introducing off-target mutations elsewhere in the donor's genome. In practice, however, CRISPR-Cas12 targeting accuracy was generally greater than 99.99%. The chances of picking up an unintended mutation were comparable to being struck by lightning while living in Tokyo.

"I like your boyfriend, Tendou-san," the doctor said with a smile. "Most people are usually blind with hope and elation when I first tell them about this. Some critical skepticism is healthy. He's quite handsome too by the way."

Ranma felt his cheeks flush as he heard the reference to himself: kareshi. It was new, fresh, and nice to hear. More than that, it was consensual and sounded so normal. That meant, however, that he actually had a girlfriend now.

Nabiki squeezed his hand, drawing him back to the present. She was returning the doctor's smile with one of her own now. He did not understand her reply; it was in English as was the brief, genial conversation that followed. Whatever words were exchanged elicited a chuckle from the doctor, almost certainly at his expense.

At the end, Nabiki switched back to Japanese as she thanked the doctor for explaining her options including Daedalus. She promised to think about it and get back to the doctor with an answer as quickly as possible. Whether she agreed to a genetically modified or conventional transplant, she knew they were holding the donor for her, especially since she was such a hard match.

"You want to know what I think about whether or not Icarus should jump, right?" Nabiki said to Ranma after they left the clinic. She had her arm wrapped around his as he helped her make her way around the large hospital. They had to get to the infusion center for her next dose of immunotherapy and a blood transfusion to palliate her anemia.

"If ya feel like telling me, yeah. Otherwise, I'd settle for knowing what ya said to the doctor about me in English back there."

She smiled. "I'll tell you both. For the transplant, it will be hard either way, conventional or otherwise. It wasn't easy the last time. I'd lose all my hair again when they do the pre-transplant conditioning. It won't really come back for at least a year. I'll be bedridden and puking my guts out too. The recovery after will be an even harder fight. You might not find me attractive anymore."

"You're the most beautiful girl I've ever known," he replied adamantly. "I'd cut off my pigtail and shave my head to match and to let ya know that ya losing hair won't change that. Would ya still like me that way?"

She gave him a shy nod. "You…. You're the most handsome boy I've ever known. If a little Jusenkyo magic won't change that, neither would a bit of hair loss."

"And the thing ya said in English?"

"I told her that I liked the sound of what she said: you and I as girlfriend and boyfriend. Is that all you want me to be to you though? Maybe we've already known each other too long and too well for just that?"

Ranma was struck with wonder as he fell into deep contemplation of the possibilities. "What would ya like to be?"

"You're the one who went to Kiyomizu and Nishi Otani and came all this way for me. What would you like?"

The answer rolled naturally off of his tongue. Not "iinazuke" — an arranged fiance — as he had been to Akane. The taste of not having had a choice was still bitter and sore for him.

His answer pleased her a great deal. "I don't want to be anything to you either that I don't choose, and I don't want it tied to anything other than how I feel." Icarus had a choice to leap or not; she would love him because she chose to love him.

"'Konyakusha'…?" he ventured. This word showed respect for the principles of "volition" and "consent."

A tender, affectionate grin alighted across her beautiful face. "That's what the doctor asked too. If you plan to ask me one day, I'm willing. Don't bother about telling me that you're broke though. I already know about that.

# # # # #

The call came as he was sitting waiting for the treatments to finish. Dr. Sato was the one on the other end of the line. She was surprised when she connected his voice with that of the young man she had just seen with her patient. She asked him to come by her office in the ambulatory wing of the hospital.

"We have time to talk. The infusions will take at least 3 hours."

The ghost at Nishi Otani had spoken true to him in his dreams.

The answer is in your blood….

Technically, the information that was to be provided about the recipient was supposed to be limited to anonymized demographics. Given the circumstances, however, the doctor would not be able to conceal from him that he was identified as a donor for Nabiki. The match quality was incredibly high, far better even than the usual threshold for being green-lighted for a transplant.

"You've asked to remain anonymous," the doctor noted. "I'm just curious. Knowing who your recipient will be, do you still want it that way?"

Ranma had been sure ever since Akane first broached the possibility of him being a donor when she met him at Tokyo Station. Nabiki's words to him earlier in the hall only reaffirmed his conviction.

I don't want to be anything to you either that I don't choose, and I don't want it tied to anything other than how I feel. Icarus had a choice to leap or not; I will love you because I choose to love you….

Nabiki could never know.

The doctor said she admired and respected his choice. She would make the arrangements for a harvest to be done as soon as possible once he signed some additional papers.

"Doesn't she have to agree though?" he asked.

The doctor smiled. "We wouldn't be having this conversation if the recipient hadn't agreed."

Time was of the essence. He would receive several days of growth factor hormone treatments to mobilize bone marrow stem cells into circulation. These would then be collected by a several hours-long procedure called apheresis. Usually 2 to 3 collection sessions were needed to harvest a sufficient number of cells. About two weeks would be needed after to introduce the synthetic mutations and optimize the harvested cells for transplantation. The recipient would undergo conditioning with lethal dose chemotherapy and radiation at the same time to prepare to receive the transplant.

He deduced that Nabiki must have called the doctor back during her infusion and agreed to the Daedalus procedure then. A spectrum of powerful emotions ran through him: awe, joy, but, most of all, gratitude for Akiko Tendou's blessings from beyond the grave. Her voice was echoing once again in the ears of his mind; her words truly were the bells of Jerusalem ringing as St. Peter resumed calling out names.

# # # # #

By now, the trees were barren. A few brown and golden leaves remained scattered across the streets and sidewalks. The days were still mild and temperate, but the mornings and nights were increasingly cool.

Still, what followed after that day when Nabiki agreed to proceed with Daedalus was one beautiful, almost unending dream. Everything was so fresh, new, and insatiably addicting. It was all freedom unlike any he had ever imagined possible: just him and the only person in the world he had ever wanted.

She went with him on quiet, leisurely walks by the canal in Naka-Meguro for as long as she could endure. She did not want to go back to Himonya because seeing the trees would remind her that she could no longer climb them. She would not ask him to carry her up; that went without saying. Very often, she had to sit and rest on one of the benches alongside the water. As she did, Ranma teased her and told her stories to try to make her laugh and smile.

He never mentioned how stiff his neck and back had become from night after night of sleeping on the wooden floor in her room. He tried once or twice to share the bed with her in his girl form, which was smaller than his actual self. He thought too that this might tamp down on the exciting new feelings that her physical presence aroused in him; those also kept him up at night. He was wrong, however, on both counts.

He had never imagined such depths and types of human feelings being possible. The beauty and allure of her body — even despite the illness and the clothes and sheets that remained between them — humbled and awed him. Countless hours simply vanished studying the interplay of light with the lines of her face; running his fingers through her hair; savoring her peach blossom scent; and holding her in his arms. He was free too to interlace his fingers with hers as he pleased without any need to explain or justify himself to anyone. He blushed imagining her shapely legs and chest and the warm, silky smooth feel of her skin pressed up against his own.

They talked about everything and nothing at all and sketched things together while daydreaming about possibilities beyond Daedalus and their present reality. She had tears in her eyes as she told him that he had made her feel, for the first time since her mother passed, like a wanted human being, loved and cherished without conditions of pity, remorse, or anything else. She had not thought she would ever find the freedom again to describe her dreams and aspirations without being judged, misunderstood, or even outright dismissed.

Ranma showed her the other sketch that he had worked on the other night as he had watched her sleep. It was the drawing that she had started on the cocktail napkin that first day at Himonya of him sitting up in the tree. He had completed the scene by placing her beside him. His eyes were no longer weary, and the pained longing and sadness that she had seen there then was replaced by the wide, bright-eyed light of hope and excitement.

"Was I really so wrong about everything?" she asked. Her eyes shimmered as she traced his lines with the tips of her fingers with genuine, heartfelt wonder and admiration. Her voice was small, broken by the weight of doubt and bewilderment.

Existentialists did not believe in God. If they did, they had little reason to believe that the individual was of any concern to Providence.

Yet, here in her hands was the proof that a girl like her could still meet a boy like him who could love someone like her. All of this was despite how flawed with anger and scheming cynicism she was and all of the things that she still feared she could not bring to the table of any potential shared future. Here too was the proof that daughters such as her could be born as doppelgängers of mothers who could speak to them from beyond the grave.

"Your Mom said that loving someone is never wrong, remember?" Ranma reminded her. "Both of your sisters too. People just do wrong things around love."

She nodded as she digested his words.

"We have to go back at some point, Ranma," she said eventually with a sad, resigned sigh. "That's what my mother would expect. To Nerima and our families; you to Furinkan to finish; and me back to Todai if I survive Daedalus. "

"We'll do those things and more — together the way I'm sure your Mom would've liked," he said confidently with a firm squeeze of her left hand. If Akiko Tendou could come to them from beyond the grave with answers truly written in blood, then this had to be a story with a good ending.

It had to be.

"Will you do something for me?" Nabiki asked, swiping in annoyance at the tears running down her cheeks now.

"Course," he answered without hesitation. "What would ya like?"

"Would you be willing to call me 'Na-Chan' from time to time? My mother used to call me that. I…. I miss hearing that name. It would help to remind me of who I really am."

He understood. Then and there, he pulled her in close and lovingly whispered Icarus's true name in her ear for the very first time.

"Na-chan…."

# # # # #

Na-chan's words to him earlier as they had emerged at the top of the stairs leading to the street just outside the station near Furinkan poignantly replayed themselves in the ears of his heart and mind.

Don't worry. Whether I live ten more years or ten more days, everything will be fine. I've already lived because you loved me. I believe again because of you….

Now, the whole scene opened as they had choreographed together the day before.

She held on to Ranma's right hand with her left, conspicuously allowing him to help her steady herself as she made her way across the polished wooden floor of the dojo. When they arrived at the center, he silently slipped the navy and grey plaid print overcoat off her shoulders and stepped back. She settled to her knees on her own and assumed a seiza position directly across from her father. Her sisters were on either side of him as she had guessed they would be. Kasumi was to his left and Akane on his right.

Ranma bowed politely as he stepped back outside. Then he began to slowly slide the shoji partition shut with the finality of a chapter of something coming to an end. Akane's knowing eyes briefly met his own just as the last light from inside the dojo disappeared. His promises made at Tokyo Station were fulfilled.

Now, he clung tightly to Nabiki's coat and let its lingering peach blossom scent fill his senses as the long wait began.

# # # # #