Allow me to introduce myself. You see, my name is Miramoto Hiroshi. I am sixteen, and go to Furenkin High School. I'm a generally average student, and I have to confess that I sleep in classes occasionally.

Of course, some of you might've seen me around Furenkin. Usually Daisuke or myself end up in some tough spots due to our mutual acquaintance, a one Saotome Ranma. He means well, it's just his life is crazy out of control most of the time.

My girlfriend, Mihoko, started dating me back in spring during break. I guess she felt I was a charming public speaker, not that I go out of my way to be in the spotlight. Really, I was tutoring her in our English literature class and things kind of got heated between the two of us.

My mom and dad are a little more atypical. I guess you could say they're a good pair, they make a great team. Mom is the gung ho one, and dad is a lot more reserved and patient. If not for mom, dad would've been stuck in Japan rather than travelling the world.

For that matter, my sis probably wouldn't have met her late husband, Connor, if my dad hadn't summered in Dublin one year. It's funny how so many things seem to connect out of circumstance, ne?

Daisuke? He's my closest and dearest friend. A total egghead though, not that I hold it against him. He and I have the same sort of tastes in girls, we quip about it all the time, even though he's too scared to really ask one out. Not that I can blame him with his home life being what it is.

Nerima, where all of us live, is usually a pretty quiet place. Well, up until about half a year ago when the Saotome's moved in. Since then, there hasn't been a single night where some sort of insanity hasn't happened.

I'm sure you've heard the stories. Crazed martial artists come calling at all hours of the day, wacky races and contests with even more bizarre forms of martial arts. We're a resilient people, Nerimans. We've taken it all in stride, and it's kind of just part of who we are nowadays.

Of course, it's been really quiet for a couple of weeks. Ranma and the whole crew went to someplace in China to save Akane. Again.

But that's their story. This one's more about Mihoko and I. Speaking of which… let's get back to that.

Where was I? Oh, right.

When I came to, Mihoko was holding an icepack to my face. I felt sore all over, and I doubt it was entirely from the exploding wall which Ryouga had launched at me unintensionally.

"I'm sorry, Hiroshi-kun! I over reacted." She gave a supportive smile, trying to convey her apology to me.

"Nnngh, I'm confused, Miho-chan. I mean, you and I have made out before, and I've copped a feel before, so why hit me?" My head still had a loud hum, like the emergence alert system they play on the television for tsunami warnings.

She scowled at me, crossing her arms beneath the offending bosom. "Not in public we don't! Besides, I did apologize. Just be more careful next time!" She looks at me sidelong, sort of a glare as I shift on the couch, looking around. I was back at home, in the living room.

"Well, I'd appreciate it if next time you warned me or something? It's not like I haven't had a concussion before, but I'd prefer my brain remain in some semblance of working order at least till I'm out of my teen years," I pause as I notice that tension in her shoulders again, sighing winsomely I grin. "I'm sorry for groping you in public, Miho-chan. It will not happen again."

I lower my head to bow, and promptly fall off the couch and onto said appendage. I'm not really sure how I did it, either. "Ow," I vocalized with great profundity.

She pulled me back up onto the couch, though the room kept moving. "Be still, you baka! Or I'm going to give you some permanent brain damage to that fool head of yours!" She said it in the most endearing manner, though. That kind of way that you say you're angry but that you really found it funny?

"Yeah, how did I end up on my head again?" I said. Or I think it was me, but it came from the left.

My mom came in with a tray of tea. She was dressed in western clothing, some jungle green cargo Capri pants and a black tankini with Alfred E. Newman on the front of it. Her hair tied up in pigtails on either side of her head as she smiled at the two of us. On my side of things, I saw three of her.

Mom has always looked young for her age, just like dad. She looked like she could be my older sister, not my mother. She had a habit of acting her apparent age, rather than her actual age.

"Hiro-kun, you've got to stop injuring yourself whenever your girlfriend is around. It's bad luck, and I'd imagine rather painful, dear," She set the tray on the coffee table, putting her hands on her hips. She smiled at Mihoko, nodding informally at her. "Hello, Mihoko-chan."

Mihoko stood and bowed formally, as she had every time she'd met my mother, "Hello again, Miramoto-sama."

Mom scrunched her nose again, holding up a finger in mid air before wagging it at Mihoko, "For the last time, Mihoko-chan. Call me Yui."

My girlfriend bowed again, deeper this time, "Sumimasen, Miramoto-sama… I just don't think it's appropriate," She kept her bow for a moment before standing again, being sure not to look up at my mother.

Mom heaved an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands up, "I don't get your taste, Hiro-kun. I really don't go for the traditional sort. I've got some great girlfriends that you could-"

"MOM!" I yelled, groaning as my fingers tangled in my short russet hair, my head a series of taiko drums. "Seriously, Mihoko is RIGHT THERE!" I pointed, as if mom couldn't see her to begin with.

Mom looked at her again, as if seeing her for the first time. "Well, yes. I've noticed that. Just standing like a scarecrow in my living room." Mom smiled again at Mihoko, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Mihoko stiffens and looks like she's about to cry.

"Oh, don't be such a baby. Would you like some tea, dear?" She kept her hand there a moment, her smile seeming a little facile. She was probably thinking whether she should be nicer since we'd been dating three months.

"H-hai!" Mihoko said it pretty hastily, leaning down to fetch the tea to free herself from my mom's arm. Sometimes I forget that mom can be kinda scary, even when she's not trying to be.

My girlfriend pours the tea and hands it to me. It's bitter with the taste of medicine, the heat hits my stomach and diffuses, warming my body throughout. I taste the faint aftertaste of raspberries. I mouth my pleasure at the flavor as I sink into the couch, savoring the warming sensation.

Mihoko holds her own cup as she watches me, her eyes as big as a mouse that's just seen an owl. She turns her head almost woodenly to my mother.

She tilts her head sideways in a coy expression. "Don't be silly, why would I poison my own baby boy? Drink up, dear."

Mihoko nods numbly before carefully sipping her tea, her eyes widen as she looks down into the cup, "It's good," She says, half shocked.

She tosses hot tea all over my lap when mother claps suddenly, "I'm so pleased you like it!" My mother says in as formal a tone as she can muster.

I screamed bloody murder as one of my favorite body parts got seared by the tea. I grabbed one of the coverings for the couch to wipe off and then froze about as solid as Mihoko was. Despite the pain in my groin, I look at my mother, who has merely a displeased expression on her face.

I let go of the cloth, and almost instantly my mother produces a hand cloth of her own. For a moment, I think she's going to take care of it herself and I open my mouth to protest the embarrassment before she hands me the cloth. "You should be more careful, Mihoko-chan. Hiroshi is my only son you know."

My girlfriend was still stuck in the same pose as when she threw the cup. If I listened hard enough, I could have probably heard her heart beating. I dabbed at my groin, my back to my girlfriend and mother, my other hand occupied with my own cup of tea. I winced periodically… at least it wasn't boiling hot.

"H-hai! Gomen Nasai!" Mihoko squeeked out, shaking a bit as she bowed formally to my mother yet again.

Mom just stared at her for a long moment, one arm hanging down lazily while the other was on one hip. She gave me a half lidded, worried expression and sighed. "Dinner will be on at seven, Hiro-kun. If Mihoko-chan is staying, she is welcome join us."

Mihoko seemed to deflate in relief, "Domou, Miramo-"

"Provided she can call me by my name, that is. If she wants to call your dad Miramoto-sama, that's his business, but she's been dating you for three months now and I'd appreciate it if she at least considered my wishes. I mean, how am I supposed to be friends with her if she's so up tight all the time, Hiro-kun?" Mom made a pouty face. It would be strange on a woman her age, except… well, she doesn't look her age, after all.

"I'd love to be friends with her," She turns to look at Mihoko again raising her voice, "OI! YOU HEAR THAT IN THERE?" She yells, one hand cupped to her mouth to amplify it.

I give my mother a flat look, "Mom, Mihoko isn't deaf and she isn't hearing impaired." I sip my tea a bit more as my mom rubs her head in consternation.

"I- I'm not Yui-sama." My girlfriend looks as pale as bleach, her hands like vice-grips on the fabric of her school skirt. She looked ready for a heart attack.

Mom stared at her for about a minute and a half. I counted. She had this expression on her face, like Mihoko had just grown a mushroom right in the middle of her forehead. A huge purple polka dotted one.

Then mom laughed rather raucously, patting Mihoko on the shoulder with her hand again. "Okay, that'll have to do," She turned her eyes to me, she wore the look of the stern disciplinarian on her face. "Do not be late for dinner."

Her eyes turned back to Mihoko, "Enjoy your night, dear," And then mom turned and left, her house slippers soundless as she departed.

I finished my tea, setting the cup down as my head began to clear. "You know, you don't have to be stark raving terrified of my mom. She's really nice if you give her a chance."

My girlfriend turned to me slowly, her face some mixture of astonished and angry, "Your mother was Shinobi! And daughter of a clan leader! How can I NOT be terrified of her!"

"You know, when I told you that, I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't go around yelling it?" I sighed, rubbing the back of my head a bit. "Look, I don't know, Mihoko. She WAS, I mean, emphasis on WAS. Mom's side doesn't exactly come to the dinner parties."

Mihoko makes a fervent searching gesture with both her hands, "She's still-!"

"My mom?" I supply in interruption, giving Mihoko a stern look. "Yeah. She's my mom. She's retired, for the most part."

She nods, making an offering gesture with one hand. "See! It's that for the MOST part that makes me want to- to- run away whenever she starts being all nice and chummy with me, Hiroshi!" She paces back and forth a moment, trying to use up the nervous energy.

I looked at her with a pleading expression, tangling my fingers together as I leaned forward, my elbows resting atop my knees as I spoke, "Mihoko, if you aren't comfortable with Mom, maybe we should take things a bit slower. I mean, she's my mom. You're going to have to get used to her eventually."

She stopped pacing, turning to look at me, she opened her mouth to speak before shutting it quickly, biting her lip as she apparently reconsidered what she was going to say. "You're right. I'm being silly, I've met her several times now and each time I act like a jellyfish," She puts a hand to her forehead.

"I just don't understand her, Hiroshi. I mean, I thought I would, because you told me so much about her before. But she doesn't make sense to me. Why does she snub tradition like that? I mean, it's not appropriate for me to call her by her first name," She looks down at the tea before she steps around the coffee table, sliding onto the couch next to me and putting her hands on mine.

"Mom is Mom. It's just who she is. She makes it pretty obvious that her and tradition don't always get along, but if she were being mean to you, you'd know it Miho-chan," My voice took on a tender tone, I turned to look at Mihoko's face, smiling to encourage her.

She shook her head, seeming to miss my encouragement. "I guess it'll take a lot of getting used to," She leaned into me, her hair smelled faintly like saffron rice and cedar. I draped an arm around her and squeezed her lightly.

"Well, we should get going," I paused, amending my sentiment, "Urr, after I change pants."

The night was young yet, and we had some celebrating to do.