All The World's A Stage Chapter 2: One Woman In Her Time Plays Many Parts, a ranma fanfic

All The World's A Stage

By nightelf

A work of fanfiction based on Takahashi Rumiko's Manga series, Ranma 1/2

Saotome Ranma, Saotome Genma, Saotome Nodoka, Tendou Akane, Tendou Soun, Tendou Kasumi, Tendou Nabiki, Kuonji Ukyou, Kenzan Konatsu, Hibiki Ryouga, P-chan, Unryuu Akari, Shan Pu, Mu Tsu, Kunou Tatewaki, Kunou Kodachi, Ono Toufuu, and Ninomiya Hinako are copyright 1987, 2018 by Takahashi Rumiko. Tenou Haruka and Kaiou Michiru are copyright 1991, 2018 by Takeuchi Naoko. All other characters are copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

Publishing rights:

Japan: Shogakukan Inc. Tokyo

Hong Kong: Jademan (Holdings) Ltd.

North America: Viz Inc.

Chapter Two of Four: One Woman In Her Time Plays Many Parts

Sometimes the current status of her life could be summed up by something very simple: her name.

She'd started off in the world as Saotome Ranma; to those she considered family, this was who she remained. Occasionally she'd been "Ran-chan" to friends, especially when she was a child; Ucchan's name for her had lasted into her high-school days. She'd gone with "Ranko" on occasions when she'd tried to pass herself off as a girl; she'd retired that name when her life became more about trying to pass as a boy.

And, of course, in Takarazuka she was known as Akimoto Ran. Fans sent her orchids in recognition of her "name", not realizing she'd been born under far different calligraphy.

Going to Nerima meant becoming Saotome Ranma again. She still wasn't sure what to think about that. Saotome Ranma, the teenager she'd left behind that cold January morning, had left a decidedly mixed legacy in Nerima – one that included a body count. While she suspected that the dead (well, any other dead besides herself) would stay dead, she still kept an eye out for any challengers, any threat, any possibility that someone might take exception to her continued existence.

Ranma was mildly surprised when no crisis or challenge occurred on their way to the dojo. The walk through the streets proved uneventful; she could hear the traffic and people around her, the symphony of the city, but no declarations of combat or devotion to complicate the way. To the world, they were just another mother and daughter on the streets of Tokyo, two people in a sea of millions. Ranma found the anonymity, just being a random face in the crowd, strangely comforting.

The route to the Tendou place was familiar enough for her to know every turn, but unfamiliar enough to give her a sense of mild disorientation. Some buildings had been torn down and replaced in the past thirteen years; she mentally tried to map out her former roof-hopping routes to see if any of them would need to be changed. That said, the ground she walked was familiar, a place she had once called home; she would never need a map or directions in these particular streets.

Her hands and feet felt strangely numb as she approached the Tendou home. Again, there was a bit of unfamiliarity alongside the familiar; the old dojo building had been replaced by a newer, two-story facility. Her fingers traced the wood grain of the front door frame.

"It's okay, Ranma," her mother assured her. "They know you and love you; they understand."

"That doesn't make it any easier," Ranma replied shakily. She forced her hands to move, to slide the door open and step inside her old home. The clack of heels echoed in the genkan as she stepped across the threshold.

"Hello…?"

"Come in!" a familiar voice called out, and Ranma looked toward the entrance to the living room.

Ranma had come to appreciate the effect of age on people, and Kasumi was no exception. She'd gained a kilogram or two since Ranma had last seen her; a husband and children had allowed her to settle into quiet domesticity. Her outfit hadn't changed much, as she still preferred soft, flowing skirts and blouses; whereas the outfits had seemed conservative and dowdy on the teenaged Kasumi, she now wore them with a dignity and maturity that she'd grown into. Her hairstyle caused Ranma to raise an eyebrow; it was a short pixie cut, one that would have been at home in the Takarazuka dressing rooms.

"Kasumi...?" Ranma said, uncertainty in her voice. She dropped her luggage, knowing what was to come next.

"Ranma!" Kasumi walked into the entryway, and gave her a warm hug. "It's been so long! How have you been?"

"Good," Ranma replied as she returned the hug. For once, she found herself struggling for words. "You look good, Kasumi." She'd learned long ago that distraction could serve her well, and she needed distraction from what she was feeling; her eyes focused on Kasumi's hairstyle. "Nice hairstyle. You haven't been thinking of going into acting, have you?"

Kasumi gave Ranma a soft glare. "After Ranko and Akane started thinking of Mommy's hair as something to grab on to, the 'Mom cut' looked better and better." She fingered her locks self-consciously, her lips formed into a tight smile. "Besides, Mom wore her hair like this when raising us. It seemed appropriate."

Ranma nodded slowly. "It suits you." She bowed her head slightly, and scuffed her feet on the floor. "Um…"

Kasumi blinked. "Yes?"

"I… I just wanted to thank you." She forced her gaze to meet Kasumi's, even while every instinct screamed for her to look away. She'd waited thirteen years to say the words; she didn't want to wait any more. "I… for the last six months here… I was a mess. In every way possible. I… after my curse was locked… I didn't have a clue. None. Didn't know where to go, what to do… you and your sisters helped me through that. Akane helped me accept myself… but you and Nabiki helped teach me about what it meant to be a woman - and, also, what it didn't mean." She wrung her hands together, her face crimson. "Thank you."

Time stopped, and the two women looked at each other, at the years and tragedies that had separated them. Tears began to track down Kasumi's cheeks, even as Ranma's eyes misted over, as her throat hurt from holding back the pain. The dam burst; Kasumi stepped forward and latched onto Ranma, holding her tight.

"R-Ranma…" Kasumi sobbed. "I…. missed you so much… af… after…."

Ranma didn't trust herself enough to speak; all that came out was a soft whine.

"I… I hoped… after Kodachi… that… that you'd survived… that you'd come back… when… when you didn't…"

"C-couldn't… too risky." Ranma forced the words from her mouth. "R-Ranma had to... to disappear."

"I… I know," Kasumi choked out. Dimly, Ranma could sense another presence enter the foyer; whoever they were had the sense to leave them be for the moment.

They eventually separated; Ranma forced herself to take a ragged breath, while Kasumi wiped the tears from her cheeks. Kasumi straightened up, brushed imaginary dirt from her skirt, then looked to the woman standing behind Ranma.

"Auntie!" Kasumi rushed over to hug Nodoka, another emotional reunion for Ranma to savor. A voice interrupted Ranma as she bent down to take off her heels.

"Who are you?"

Ranma blearily looked to the source of the voice. The girl was in that awkward stage where her body had stopped being a child, but hadn't quite decided what it wanted to be yet. The first person Ranma was reminded of was Nabiki; the girl stared skeptically at Ranma as though she was a puzzle to be solved. The short brown hair and hands placed on her hips didn't help matters. She stared out at the world through a red pair of glasses.

Fortunately, Ranma had a hundred different ways to answer such a question; she decided a somewhat theatrical response was needed. She bowed deeply, as an English gentleman might have in a bygone age, using the movements to slip her feet into a pair of house slippers. "My dear lady, I am Akimoto Ran, an esteemed actor and singer with the Takarazuka Revue." Ranma then relaxed into teenaged aplomb. "But, around here, they call me Ranma."

The girl's eyes widened. "Aren't you dead? Mom has a picture of you in the shrine." She turned to Kasumi, currently engaged in a hug. "Wait… Mom, is this the person you named me after?"

Kasumi broke from Nodoka's embrace, and wiped her eyes. "Well… yes, Ranko. Ranma here was the person you were named after."

Ranko's frown deepened. "I thought she died."

Kasumi paused, her mouth open as she pondered how to respond. "Well… Ranma needed to hide for awhile - because someone did try to kill her." She looked to Ranma for confirmation; Ranma nodded. "I suspect we will be sharing a great many stories this weekend." Kasumi's eyes pointed at Ranma.

Ranma took the hint. "Indeed. One thing I've learned in the theater. Everyone has their story, and every family its own saga; the only question is if the story ever gets told. It is perhaps time for this story to be told as far as it is known. Though explaining some things might be difficult…. anyway. How are things?"

"Good." Kasumi's voice had a strange, almost hollow tone to it. "Really good. You've met Ranko here." She chose that moment to ruffle Ranko's hair; Ranko scowled at Kasumi in reply. "Toufuu's working. Father and Akane - er, my daughter, Akane - and Katsuo are practicing in the dojo; Nabiki's with them." She reached out to pick up Nodoka's bags; Ranma chose to carry her own.

Ranma let the strangeness wash over her as she walked through the house. It was the small details that alerted her that things had changed. The old table had seen better decades; the childhoods of three more martial artists had left their mark on the venerated wood. Occasional signs of new technology - a modern cordless phone, a larger television - jarred with her old memories. One other detail she noted: the house had far more photographs lining the walls. Someone, likely Kasumi, had insisted on enshrining and appreciating the people she loved before they died, rather than after.

"Looks nice," Ranma finally said as she looked around. "It's interesting seeing the differences."

Kasumi glanced back at her, casually adjusting the strap of Nodoka's luggage on her shoulder. "Wait until you see the dojo."

"I saw the structure from the outside. Never thought I'd see a second story on the place." She tilted her head to one side. "Wonder what would have happened if I went in the side entrance, like a dojo challenger?"

Kasumi smiled sweetly. "Father has trained my husband in the Art; he's probably the most skilled practitioner at the moment." The smile morphed into something that Ranma would almost describe as sinister. "We did actually have a dojo destroyer visit us about five years ago. Unfortunately, our guest hadn't counted on Toufuu's knowledge of pressure points. It did not go well for him."

Ranma gulped. "That's… kind of scary."

Kasumi looked Ranma over carefully. "I take it you still practice...?"

"You think I could ever stop?" Ranma stopped for a moment, her eyes misting over, as a koi leaped from the backyard pond. "The dojos near Takarazuka know me fairly well; they like me because I give them a different sort of challenge, and I go from one place to another because I need the challenge. We're close enough to the countryside that I can always find places to go out and train."

"And apparently perfect the Grandmaster's clothes-changing technique," Kasumi supplied.

"Well, it came in handy," Ranma retorted. "Have you ever seen what it's like backstage while changing outfits? It's just a lot easier to keep the outfits in Mu Tsu's compression space and use the old lech's technique to change."

Nodoka moved ahead of them, hurried steps to open the door to the dojo building; the others followed her inside. Ranma glanced around at the bland waiting room - the comfortable chairs, the austere artwork decorating the walls, various forms of reading material neatly placed on a bookshelf. She spotted a martial arts classic on the shelf - Kano Jigoro's Mind over Muscle - then looked back at Kasumi.

"So who's left of the old crowd, anyway?"

Kasumi blinked at the question. "The old crowd? Well… the Kunous are gone…"

"Thank God," Ranma interjected.

"Well… yes," Kasumi gathered herself. "Mu Tsu still runs the Nekohanten. The rest of the Chinese group… oh, what was her name…?"

"Shan Pu." Ranma's mouth twitched as she remembered Shan Pu in all of her glory.

"Ah, yes. Shan Pu. Such a healthy, energetic young woman…" Kasumi fought to keep a straight face.

"That's one way of putting it," Ranma replied. She adjusted the grip on her suitcase. "About the only girl I ever met with even less feminine modesty than I had."

"You learned it quickly enough, once you had a need for it."

"Yeah, well... at the time, I didn't want to have a need for it." Ranma blushed furiously. "It wasn't my body. It was just the body of some dead girl who drowned, whose body I got cursed with." She twitched, remembering Herb's second visit to Nerima - and what she felt in its aftermath. "Until it was the only body I had left," she whispered.

"Well, you adapted remarkably well, considering." Kasumi gave her a reassuring smile. "Anyway. Shan Pu and her great-grandmother left for China after… well…"

"After I disappeared." Ranma leveled her eyes at Kasumi. "Might as well say it."

"Quite," Kasumi agreed. "Once you and Kodachi were… dead… oh dear that sounds so odd to say now that you're back… there was no reason for them to stay. Mu Tsu didn't want to go back to China, so they left the restaurant in his hands. He married a Chinese student from Hong Kong in Tokyo to study business; he continues to run the cafe and take care of their children, while she works as an executive for a shipping company."

Ranma nodded. "Good to see he got over his obsession with Shan Pu."

"Well… everything that happened… it shook a lot of sense into people," Kasumi responded, a note of sadness in her voice. "Ucchan's is still around; Ukyou and Konatsu have two children, with another on the way."

"Do you just happen to be friends with everyone who runs a restaurant?" Ranko groused at Ranma. She crossed her arms in front of her, shaking her head as she did so. "Definitely from Osaka."

Ranma shrugged her shoulders helplessly, the luggage twitching upward with the movement. "Well… the path of a martial artist is fraught with hunger?"

Kasumi tittered in laughter. "That sounds like something Uncle Genma would have said."

"Well… yeah. If he didn't ever say it, I'm sure he thought it." Ranma blinked as an odd thought crossed her mind. "Hmmm… is Ukyou still presenting as a guy?"

"Ukyou started presenting more as a girl once you left; since you were gone, she was no longer honor bound to present as male." The corners of Kasumi's mouth twitched upward. "Konatsu is still quite pretty, though. Most outsiders to the area think of them as a lesbian couple; no one seems to care enough to correct them."

Ranma smirked. "Darn. Ukyou - heck, both of them - were convincing enough to perform on the Takarazuka stage."

"Even Konatsu?" Kasumi asked skeptically.

"Out of those two, if you saw them on stage, which one would you have thought was a guy?"

"Point." Kasumi set down the luggage she was carrying. "Just a moment." She knocked on the door. "Dear? Are you with a patient?"

A soft tenor voice echoed from the other side. "No; Mrs. Yamada has left already. Come in."

Kasumi opened the door for the others; Ranma's eyes lit up as she entered the clinic. "Toufuu!"

"Ranma! It's good to see you!" Toufuu rose from his chair. He was still fit and trim - martial arts saw to that. The lines around his eyes and mouth were etched clearer than before; his ponytail was long gone, replaced with a far more utilitarian cut. He raised an eyebrow at Ranma, his palms exposed for her to see. "So… I apparently have 'good hands'?"

"What…. Oh!" Ranma exclaimed in realization. She set down her luggage, blurred for a moment, then reappeared wearing a long slit-skirt. "Oh, yes, Toufuu… Please… please touch me… I haven't stopped thinking about those incredible hands of yours. Please make an appointment for me. It's just… criminal… that Kasumi has you all to herself… I have some… very… sensitive… pressure points just begging for your touch." She emphasized her breasts with these last words; she practically shoved her chest into Toufuu's arm. Once she was satisfied she'd made her point, she blurred once more; a moment later, she stood back in her original blouse and slacks, a hand placed on her hip.

"So. How'd I do?" Ranma asked. Behind her, Toufuu wiped the steam from his glasses.

Ranko rolled her eyes. "This is a weird adult thing, isn't it?"

Kasumi chuckled, shaking her head in exasperation. "Ranko-chan, that may be the best description of my late teenage years I've ever heard. Strange things tended to happen around Ranma during her time here. Things that I can't even begin to describe." She tilted her head to one side. "It's going to be an interesting weekend, that's for sure."

Ranma blinked in surprise. "Is someone coming over?"

Kasumi gave Ranma a flat stare. "You've been gone for over a decade, Ranma, with most people thinking you'd died. Yes - we're having company over. I wasn't sure who to invite, so I kept it to the few people we know we can trust. The Mus, the Kenzans, the Hibikis…"

"The Hibikis? Is Ryouga still with that pig girl?" Ranma looked up to the ceiling, trying to remember her name. "Um... Akemi?"

"Akari," Kasumi supplied. "Ryouga rarely leaves the farm; he's always afraid he'll get lost. Still, he and Akari and the kids come in from time to time. They always bring something from the farm whenever they come to visit; it's always nice to get things straight from the source." She looked to the stairs for a moment. "Are you all right with sleeping in the dojo? With Nabiki here as well this weekend, it's going to be crowded."

Ranma nodded knowingly. "Pop and I used to sleep in dojos all the time. It'll be just like childhood."

Kasumi's smile widened at the words. "Thanks, Ranma. I'm still not sure where we're going to put everyone, to be honest." She gestured to a corner. "It might be best to leave your bags down here; the bathroom and shower are down here as well."

Ranma took a moment to glance around at the clinic area. The floor tiles had been painted in kana, as though the floor was a giant crossword puzzle; unconsciously, her mind started following paths and filling in words. She instantly understood why Toufuu and Kasumi had decorated the floor in this manner: it was all too easy to find words and names within the tiles, a convenient distraction whenever a patient needed it. A set of luggage already sat in the corner, along with a high-quality blouse and skirt-suit hung on the wall above it, and Ranma smiled. It was one more symbol of how they'd all changed.

Nabiki had chosen her costume. Kasumi had already chosen hers - or, perhaps, had it chosen for her - long before Ranma had met her. But Nabiki had earned hers, and it suited her. Ranma wasn't sure about her own costume, but that was fairly standard for her life; an actor had to change costumes as needed. Maybe the standard black leotard she wore in practice qualified, considering how often she wore it. She suddenly found herself missing her old Chinese shirts, and wondered if Kasumi had kept any of her things.

Sighing, Ranma set their bags alongside Nabiki's in the corner, then moved Nodoka's luggage to join them. Her ears perked up at the muffled sound of footfall above her.

Kasumi and Toufuu began to ascend a staircase. Ranma had been in enough dojos to understand the importance of being discreet; she tiptoed up the steps behind them, entered the doorway, and took a place along the wall, glancing at the other spectators before watching the festivities.

Ranma grinned at the sight that awaited. Two children, one girl clearly the same age as Ranko, the other a boy a couple of years younger, faced off in the middle of the dojo, fighting in that oddly cute way children tended to do things simply, but with all of their concentration. To their credit, they didn't stop for the newcomers, as apparently they'd learned the importance of continuing a fight to its conclusion.

And what followed felt like a reintroduction to an old friend. The beginning forms of the Musebetsu Kaketou - a mixture of kenpo, jujitsu, and tai chi chuan - were familiar to any practitioner, so much so that Ranma could predict the sequence of moves well in advance. Kick followed by block followed by counter followed by attempt to grab followed by an evasive roll into a leg sweep… the progression of moves was a familiar tune to her, one she knew by heart. She could even tell, judging by the actions of the pair, how the fight would ultimately end.

A few seconds later, the girl, the older of the two sparring, extended just a little too far on a punch. The boy sparring against her grabbed the girl's wrist and tossed her on her back; as he did this, Ranma pictured herself flipping over the girl and tapping her on the back of the head.

Some things never changed.

"Point!" Soun called, ending the fight. He stepped into the area and extended a hand to the girl to help her up. After he'd pulled the girl to her feet, Soun looked over at Ranma.

"What did you see?"

Ranma crossed her arms. "The girl got impatient. The boy was showing no reaction to her attacks, and more to the point was preferring a more defensive style. So she pushed it and extended too far with her punch - which, of course, was what he was waiting for." Ranma raised an eyebrow. "Temper problems?"

Soun nodded; it was clearly a familiar refrain. "Indeed. Akane, Katsuo… I would like to introduce you to… actually, I have a better idea for an introduction." He looked over at Ranma. "It has been a very long time. Are you interested in a spar with me? I would like to know that my school is not the only one left, after all."

The offer brought a grin to Ranma's face. "Given the Musebetsu Kaketou Ryuu, it is the best way to introduce yourself, isn't it? Just give me a second to change." She took a step forward, then changed into her slit-skirt.

The boy's eyes widened. "Wow… how did you do that?"

It was an answer she'd given a thousand times before. "Martial arts."

Soun crossed his arms in front of him, and leveled a hard gaze at Ranma. "You think you can try to distract me?"

Ranma shook her head. "Of course not. It's just that this has more freedom of movement than my slacks." She looked over at the children. "I cosplayed as Chun-Li once. It was a great outfit for fighting in, so I decided to go with it."

Soun's eyes narrowed. "Now I know you're trying to distract me." He walked to the center of the dojo. "Kasumi, if you would do the honors?"

"Of course." Kasumi's eyes twinkled. "Ranko, Akane, Katsuo? You're going to want to watch this." The children walked over to the wall of the dojo, and sat down. "Are you both ready?"

"I'm ready," Soun replied. The frown was gone, replaced with a cocky smirk. "You haven't gone soft with that acting job, have you?"

"You think I could ever stop, old man?" Ranma adjusted her stance into a relaxed, languid pose, one reminiscent of a femme fatale. "I was born ready."

"I don't know about 'born' ready, if that's what you call ready…" Soun looked at the group. "Children, this is what's called 'psychological warfare'. If you can anger your opponent into making a mistake… well, your opponent making a mistake is generally a good thing."

"Just don't take it too far - especially with family," Ranma supplied, her voice subdued. "There are some words that you can't take back." Soun simply nodded in reply.

Kasumi looked at the pair; whatever banter had occurred had faded. "Ready?" She chopped the air with her hand, then backed away to safety. "Begin!"

Soun's moves had changed from his earlier days, Ranma noticed. In fact, it seemed that the entirety of Musebetsu Kaketou had adapted with the times. In Ranma's adolescence, Soun (and Genma) had stuck primarily with Japanese and Chinese schools of martial art, as it was all that was available to them. The last decade had triggered unprecedented connections between martial artists around the world, and those connections made themselves known in the styles they presented. Her eyes widened when Soun began a capoeira dance, before she had to duck a spin-kick. She responded with a switch to Hapkido, and sought a chance to grab him.

Clearly, the Musebetsu Kaketou had become a transnational martial art.

The spar evolved about as Ranma expected. In general, a martial artist will choose a style that matches their body type. Soun had always focused more on power than speed in his attacks; eventually, he'd settled on a mix of ground-based, defensive styles, with only the occasional venture into speed-based styles to keep Ranma from detecting a pattern. By comparison, speed was what Ranma had lived by, so she focused on her usual aerial-based styles, with the occasional influence from dance performance to provide misdirection. One style bled into another that blended into another as she fought, all forming what could best be described as a speed-based martial art that was uniquely Ranma.

Which, of course, was the point of the Musebetsu Kaketou. Take from every style available, and then form it into your own unique style.

As the spar continued, she couldn't help but admire Soun's fighting style. His was a patient, defensive style, designed to weather a storm of attacks and slowly wear down a speedy opponent on the assumption that the speedster couldn't keep the pace up forever. He'd learned some strong endurance techniques as well; even her Amaguriken had barely fazed him. In fact…

"Breaking Point technique?" she finally asked.

Soun nodded without smiling or breaking concentration. "Ryouga taught me several years ago."

Ranma frowned. That clinched it; if she wanted to win the fight, she'd have to get sneaky. She pulled a bra out of her personal storage and threw it at Soun's face. It wouldn't be quite as effective with Soun as it was with Happousai, but it should be enough.

Soun caught the object in his hand reflexively, then stared at it for a fraction of a second. That fraction of a second, as the primitive areas of his brain told him that this was something interesting, was all she needed. One leg sweep, and Soun was down on the floor, Ranma's bra still clutched in his hand.

Ranma shook her head. "Men," she muttered.

The children at the wall gaped at the sight. "Whoa…" one of the girls piped up. "She got Grandpa."

Kasumi shook her head in exasperation, then raised her arm. "Point, Ranma." She gave Ranma a soft glare. "Really, Ranma? Throwing your underwear at him?"

Ranma shrugged. "Men are men. They're always going to find women's underwear interesting at an instinctive level because, well… we make it interesting." She smiled unashamedly. "Just because Soun isn't the old lech doesn't mean he isn't going to have an automatic reaction to it - and be distracted just enough to leave an opening." She extended a hand to Soun. "You've gotten better since we last fought. That I had to throw my bra at you just to get an opening…"

Soun accepted the hand, letting Ranma help him to his feet. He then discreetly handed Ranma her bra back. "Yes, well… I had reason to get better." A cloud passed over his face. "We all did." He then stepped to the side and gestured toward Ranma. "Kids, this is… well… this is Saotome Ranma. Head, and only surviving member, of the Saotome branch of the Musebetsu Kaketou." He then gestured to his grandchildren. "Ranma, these are Ranko… Akane… and Katsuo. My grandchildren."

Ranma took that moment to examine Kasumi's other children. Ranko continued to stare at her appraisingly from behind her glasses. Akane, by comparison, was far more open and expressive in her mannerisms; she bounced around hyperactively, her dark eyes staring back at Ranma, her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. Katsuo just stood there calmly as he put on his glasses, a guileless smile adorning his features; his brown hair was cut brutally short. Now that Ranma could see the family, he could get a better feel for inheritance; Ranko and Akane had inherited enough features from Toufuu to differentiate themselves from their mother, while Katsuo's facial features were very much like his mother - and, by extension, his maternal grandfather. The other adults - Nodoka, Nabiki, and Toufuu - stood behind the children, all with varying degrees of bemusement at Ranma's technique.

Ranma nodded slowly. An audience of children couldn't dissuade her after all these years. "Hello. I'm Saotome Ranma." She raised an eyebrow mischievously; the corners of her mouth twitched. "Sorry about this."

The words brought a wide smile to the adults in the room; the other children merely looked on in confusion. She decided to continue. "About thirty-five years ago, two young men were trained in the Musebetsu Kaketou by a mysterious master known only as Hap -"

"Don't say his name again!" Soun exhorted. After a moment, he took a deep breath and calmed down. "My apologies, children. My master was a singularly unpleasant individual. His perversions knew no bounds." He shuddered. "Even though I saw his body, even though I received his ashes, he always seemed to find a way beyond seemingly impossible situations." He took a moment to relax. "Ranma, please do not tempt fate."

Ranma shrugged. "Okay. Anyway… this master taught two students. One was Tendou Soun - your grandfather. The other was my father, Saotome Genma. These two each formed their own branches of the Musebetsu Kaketou. Initially, it was planned that a relationship between myself and Soun's daughter, Tendou Akane, would lead to a sealing and combining of the schools." She grimaced. "Akane was killed before that could happen."

"So you're planning on getting with Aunt Nabiki instead?" Ranko asked.

"Ranko!" Kasumi hissed, scandalized.

Nabiki waved Kasumi off. "It's okay, Kasumi. They need to know, anyway." She pulled the three in close in front of her, a wicked grin on her features. "This is Ranko… Akane… and Katsuo." She gestured to each of them in turn. "Pick any one you want. They'll be your fiance!"

"What?!" all three children shouted at once.

Ranma caught the look in Nabiki's eye and decided to play along. "Hmmm… I'm not sure… which do you think would make for good marriage material?"

"Hey!" Akane shouted. "What's going on here?"

"Oh, my…" Kasumi put a hand over her mouth in shock. "We really should have warned them, first… I mean, Nabiki and I at least got an afternoon's warning, last time…"

Ranko's eyes widened to comic proportions. "Mom?!"

Ranma walked in front of the trio, scratching her chin in thought. "Hmmm. This first one clearly has some intelligence… but I don't know about that temper." She rubbed her head in remembrance. "The second one… clearly a quality martial artist… perhaps… but can she cook?"

"She cooks well," Kasumi replied proudly. All of the children stared at the adults with horrified faces.

"There's also the boy… but he's too young!" She struck up a heroic pose; outside, a flash of thunder was heard. "I know!" She looked at the twins. "I shall date you both!"

Toufuu sealed the issue by approaching Ranko and Akane from behind. "Then it's settled. Both of my daughters shall be your fiancees!" He gave Ranma a lopsided grin. "You should be used to having multiple fiancees…"

At the abject horror on the twins' faces, the adults finally cracked up laughing. "Oh, man," Nabiki said to them, wiping tears from her eyes. "I can't believe you fell for that!"

Akane crossed her arms. "That was mean! Making us think we were going to be married to this old woman…!"

Ranma's jaw dropped in mock outrage. "Old woman…! Well, I never!" She huffed theatrically. The grin escaping from her face betrayed her true feelings in the matter.

Kasumi finally calmed down her giggles. "Perhaps we should go inside. I have some snacks for everyone while we talk."

Everything had a cost, Ranma reflected quietly as she sat at table. Sometimes she'd paid the cost willingly; sometimes the cost was forced from her.

She watched with quiet sadness at one of those costs in front of her.

Soun stared out at the backyard with his grandchildren as they enjoyed the peace of the afternoon. The similarities within the family were eerie; they all had a fan in their hands, looked out at the world, and quietly commented on the day. Soun was using the moment to spread what wisdom he could, talking about everything from martial arts to school to ethics; the children would give their own thoughts, and Soun would patiently listen before responding.

The scene, especially with the children trying to ape their grandfather, was beautiful, touching, but sad for her as well. It pained her - because she realized just how much wasn't there, and would never be.

Her father was gone. Worse, she'd never given her father a moment such as that - a quiet, contemplative time with grandchildren. Akane's death had delayed any grandchildren… and, eventually, circumstances had denied that entirely.

Was it selfish of her not to start a relationship? Her mother had hinted, in that oh-so-motherly way, that perhaps she should start to look for a partner, in secret if she wanted to stay in the Revue, but that she needed that grounding regardless. As she looked on at Soun with his grandchildren, she wondered if Nodoka had been hinting at it for another reason - to have a chance to see her grandbabies.

Which brought up another question - the simple mechanics of the deed. That in itself was a disturbing question, one she wasn't prepared to answer. Becoming a parent now almost certainly meant bearing a child rather than siring one. Which meant changes to herself - to her body - that she wasn't quite comfortable with yet.

A tired voice interrupted her musings. "Nothing quite like the choices we don't make, eh, Saotome?"

Ranma glanced over at Nabiki. "Was it that obvious? I'm normally a better actor than that."

Nabiki sat down next to Ranma; the smile on her face didn't meet her eyes. "Ranma, you've never been able to fool anyone here, and there's no point in trying." She shrugged. "Well, anyone over the age of eleven, anyway."

"Meh. Everyone's a critic." Ranma mock-groused, then found herself grousing for real. "But yeah. The choices we didn't make." She looked over at Nabiki. "What's your social life been like since I left?"

Nabiki snorted. "Social life? You're kidding, right?" She leaned back, laying down on the tatami mat. "Everyone talks about their freshman year of college like you're supposed to party and drink and act crazy. I made straight A's my first semester because I was still largely on a war footing from Nerima. I always expected something to happen. I didn't really learn to relax until a couple of years after I'd graduated. By then… well… I didn't really know much about where to begin with dating. Or, for that matter, what I wanted."

She raised a hand to her forehead. "I dated here and there. This guy here, occasionally this girl there. It didn't really work. Even the martial artists I dated were, well…. boring." She raised herself back into a sitting position. "And then they'd hear I was from Furinkan and, well…"

Ranma's face twisted. "That bad, huh?"

"Yes - that bad. I eventually realized what it was." She gulped. "I survived."

Ranma's heart twisted in her chest at the words.

"I once dated an American - a soldier - for a few weeks, just to see what it was like; basically, we'd met at this one bar, and we were drawn to each other. We got to talking, and, well… he'd seen hell. He'd done service in some pretty nasty places - Iraq was the only place he was allowed to mention - and seen things no human being should have to go through. And, well, he asked me why I had eyes just like his." She blushed; she lowered her voice to keep her nieces and nephews from hearing. "I… I lost my virginity to him. He was one of the few people I ever met who came close to understanding." She gave a wistful smile in remembrance.

Ranma nodded slowly. She knew why Nabiki had said what she had. Unfortunately for Ranma, that meant her own secrets had to be laid bare. She lowered her own voice to match Nabiki's, and moved closer to facilitate the conversation. "In my case… so much of it was things I didn't understand. I'd grown up as a boy; to suddenly find myself female - stuck in the body of a woman - left so much confusion. And after Akane…" She paused. "It was simply best to bury myself in the stage. It's easy to not think about things like love and sex and romance when you devote yourself to an Art." It was her turn to blush.

"I'd been with the Revue for a few years before I lost my virginity - with a man, that is."

Nabiki eyes widened slightly. Ranma's face burned crimson.

"He was a martial artist at one of the dojos I frequented. He reminded me of, well, me - devoted to the art, to the exclusion of things like social niceties. I had come to realize that just because the mind wanted one thing didn't mean that the body didn't want another - and, well, sometimes my body says some pretty confusing things." Her eyes cast downward to the wood grain of the table. "He was kind, surprisingly tender - he didn't want to hurt me - and…" her voice shrank to a whisper, "and… and I enjoyed it. A lot."

Nabiki put a hand on Ranma's shoulder. "Well, sex is like that. It's supposed to be enjoyable."

Tears began to well in Ranma's eyes. "But… but I enjoy sex with women, too!" she hissed. "How can I commit to a relationship with anyone when I'm like that?"

Nabiki's face could have been carved from stone. After a moment, she relaxed, her voice even and patient. Ranma recognized the tone she was using: whenever any of the Tendou girls had wanted to teach Ranma anything after her curse was locked, that 'instructor voice' came out in force. "Ranma, when you were with Akane, with anything you weren't sure about, how did you handle it?"

Ranma shrugged. "Well, we talked it out. Akane knew it was kind of uncharted territory for me, so she listened patiently to what I had to say. Eventually, we'd figure out where to go from there." She swallowed hard, her throat hurting from the stress. "I… I didn't tell Akane about my dreams, though. That sometimes, well… if a boy looked at me the right way… that I'd feel all warm and gooey inside… and…"

"Ranma?" Nabiki's voice cut through Ranma's conundrum. "She knew."

Ranma looked at her, horrified. Nabiki took Ranma in her arms, so that their faces were inches apart. "Ranma, you might be an actor now, but you were certainly no actor back then. She knew; we all knew, to be honest. We could see the way your body reacted to Ryouga or to Tatewaki. Akane… She was willing to wait until you were ready to talk about it."

"But what if… what if I decided that I preferred being with a guy? That I was fine with being a normal wife and mother? What would she have done?" She deliberately turned her eyes away. "I… I couldn't have rejected her like that. I couldn't do that to her."

Nabiki put a hand to Ranma's cheek, turning Ranma's face back to her. "Ranma, we all knew you were changing. That the person you'd be after being locked would be different from the person you were before. Akane knew that was a possibility, that you might 'go native', so to speak." She sighed. "It would have hurt for awhile, but, well... she knew, and she accepted that."

The words hit Ranma like a ton of bricks. All the guilt she'd carried, all the shame she'd held over what she'd seen as betrayal, came crashing down on top of her. Unable to cope, she wrapped her arms around Nabiki, sobbing uncontrollably, purging years' worth of pain in the span of a few minutes.

As her sobs finally quieted down, Ranma felt Nabiki ease her to her feet.

"Daddy, I'm taking Ranma out for a bit. We need… a bit of girl time." Ranma's bloodshot eyes widened. 'Girl time' held a particular meaning among herself and the Tendou girls. Nabiki's next comment confirmed Ranma's suspicions. "I'll bring home dessert for everyone, okay?"

Ranma blearily looked toward the back porch, where Soun rested with his grandchildren. Needless to say, none of the four sitting there disagreed.

Ranma stared morosely into her bowl of ice cream, even as she savored the flavors.

Akane had introduced her to this particular ice cream shop, back when Ranma had cause to worry about things like buckets and rain showers. In their early days, it had been a place to hang out; in many ways, their trips here were the closest thing they'd had to dates in their relationship. The importance of the place shifted once her curse was locked; what once had been a place to relax became a lifeline. Sometimes it was all of the girls, sometimes it was just her and Akane, but many of the worst moments of her teenage years were worked out over ice cream.

And then there was the one time that she came here alone. The one moment that couldn't be 'worked out'.

"Thanks for bringing me here," she finally whispered.

"No problem." Nabiki theatrically scooped a bit of ice cream from her dish and raised it to her lips. "Nowadays, we'd find a bar and split some form of alcohol, and drown our sorrows away. That said, I hope you don't mind me going to old-fashioned methods. You could probably get any alcohol you wanted in Takarazuka, but an ice cream parlor like this might be more difficult."

Ranma sighed, nodding. "It has been awhile. After all, there they expect me to act like an adult." She stuck her tongue out, a silly attempt at childishness, then sank back into her depression. "Of course, they aren't wrong in that."

Nabiki waved a hand in disagreement. "Meh. The secret to adulthood is knowing when you can be childish. Here, where you went to high school? You can be childish."

"Um… excuse me…" A voice cut through their conversation.

Ranma blinked from her stupor, and turned to find a high-school girl standing near their table. Ranma opened her mouth, then stopped. For a moment, she wondered which of her identities the girl was going to ask for. "Yes?"

"Are you Akimoto Ran?"

Performance instincts immediately kicked in upon hearing the name; Ranma gave the girl a gentle smile. "Yes I am. May I help you?"

"Um… canIhaveyourautograph?" the girl asked quickly.

Ranma raised an eyebrow at the request. With a flourish, she pulled a pen and a photo of herself from a hidden cache, as though by magic. "May I ask who to address this to?"

"Megumi!" the girl blurted.

Ranma looked around and saw the table Megumi was likely eating at, where several of her friends waited, staring at the three of them as though Megumi had gone insane. She nodded knowingly and wrote on the photo: "To Megumi: Enjoy the ice cream! Akimoto Ran." She handed the photo back to Megumi; Megumi squealed, bowed deeply in thanks, and headed back to her table.

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "Can't even escape the fans here?"

Ranma shrugged. "It's the way it is. The fans in Takarazuka tend to follow certain rules; there's a hierarchy to the fandom there. Here… it's almost refreshing to have someone come up and ask."

She looked down at her dish, at the half-melted mix of green tea ice cream and chocolate sauce, and frowned. After what she'd learned - after knowing what Akane knew - she needed to know the outcome. And, in this case, the direct route was the best.

"Nabiki… if Akane hadn't… what do you think would have happened between us? Between Akane and me?"

Nabiki sighed, and looked out the window. "Ranma… I don't know for certain. I have no clue as to what you would have become. No offense, but when you died… you died, for real. Saotome Ranma was gone. It forced you down a different path, a different life. So I can't really compare you - the person in front of me now - with who you were back then." She fixed a soft gaze on Ranma. "How many times have you had a relationship stall because of your feelings toward Akane?"

"A couple of times." Ranma looked away, ostensibly to admire her manicure. "I… never really got over her, to be honest."

"As I thought." Nabiki's face twisted in thought. "Here's what I think would have happened. I think that you and Akane would have developed an open relationship - still lovers, still loving each other, but with the occasional man to satisfy certain needs. Likely, the two of you would have found a third person - a man - to get together with and, well, what man doesn't dream of a three-way with two hot women?"

Ranma blushed, but nodded. "That sounds… interesting. Um… really interesting." Her jaw dropped as she realized a prime candidate. "Oh, dear. I just realized who the most likely candidate would have been."

Nabiki blinked for a moment, before her eyes widened. "Oh, no… you're not thinking of Tatewaki, are you?"

Ranma grinned lecherously. "Either him or Mu Tsu… Ryouga was already with Akari by that point, so he was out…"

Nabiki clearly decided to play along. "Well, if you're going that route, how about a four-way, with you, Akane, Ukyou, and Konatsu? Konatsu's remarkably skilled in bed, if Ukyou is to be believed…"

Ranma just stared back at Nabiki. "That's… that's a really scary thought. Not a bad thought, just a really scary one."

Nabiki raised a shapely eyebrow. "You know, it's not a bad idea. Not a bad life, either, now that I think on it. Let's face it; neither of us are exactly normal in the sexuality department." Her eyes twinkled with mirth.

"Yeah, that's all we need," Ranma snorted, already contemplating the result of such a setup. "A bunch of half-brothers and sisters, all about the same age, all competing to be the best martial artist in Nerima." An odd, wistful smile graced her features. "Furinkan wouldn't have survived." The thought of what her child would have been like didn't enter her mind - at least, not that she'd ever admit. She looked for a way to change the subject. "So what's your life like now?"

"Pretty boring, really." Nabiki ate a spoonful of her ice cream, then elaborated. "Get up in the morning, go to work, go home, sometimes run or work out, get some supper, maybe go out with friends, go to bed. Weekends I'll usually visit here and practice with the family, or maybe go traveling."

"What's your work like?" Ranma blurted.

"Well… the work is pretty good," Nabiki admitted, twirling the spoon in her hands. "Not sure if you're familiar with what the Sakaki firm does, but, well… we help people - women, usually - manage their family's investments and portfolios. Women are usually the ones in charge of maintaining the family's finances - but all too often have to go to men to help them plan, men who might not understand their client's needs. So, our company provides a woman's perspective; we talk with our clients to get an idea as to their goals and concerns, and provide a set of investment opportunities to help meet those goals." Her eyes focused back on Ranma. "How about you? What's your day like?"

Ranma sighed. "A lot of it depends on whether I'm in a show or rehearsing. If I'm rehearsing, it's actually a lot of boredom; we perform our numbers when we're called to, follow the lead of the director and make refinements as necessary, and when we're not on stage we mainly sit around. I get some of my martial arts practice during that time, while waiting. After rehearsal's done, I'll usually go home, have supper, then work out some more." She looked out into the street, her mind running through the motions of her life. "When a show is running, I usually get up a couple hours later; I'll go in, get a little of rehearsal in - any places the director wasn't happy with in the last run - and then go into makeup for the show. The show… there's nothing quite like the stage - and nothing quite like acting." She turned back to Nabiki. "Do you know what it's like? To act on the stage, I mean."

Nabiki shook her head. "To be honest, it didn't seem all that much like acting." She scooped another mouthful of ice cream. "A lot of Jekyll - and Hyde - seemed to be you."

"There is something to that," Ranma agreed. "Basically, in character… imagine taking a part of you, and giving it its own identity. So, I take all of the parts of me where I tried to be dashing and gentlemanly, and give it this name - Dr. Edward Jekyll. All the other parts of me are to the side; they're still there, just not important. So, when I'm on stage, I am Jekyll." She blushed. "Hyde, too. Hyde is all of the times I let go - when I abandon control - when I let that part of myself out to play. She doesn't come out often, but make no mistake, Nabiki, she's there. It's like a switch; one minute I'm this wussy guy, and the next I'm this wanton… well, I won't use the words often applied to Hyde, as they're not exactly proper." She grinned wryly. "The character at the end… well, in a lot of ways, that's close to me. It's all the parts of me - minus the martial arts, maybe - brought together. That person has a choice, that person can be in control or throw herself at someone with complete abandon, or anywhere in between." She shrugged. "So… basically I make other people out of parts of myself, and call them different names."

"Like Juliet?" Nabiki replied, her mouth twisted into a smirk.

"Yeah, well… that wasn't acting. That was kids playing around." She licked her lips nervously, glanced outside for a moment, then looked back at Nabiki. "Tell you what. I'll tell you about the best acting job I ever gave in my life later, okay?"

Nabiki raised an eyebrow. "I'll hold you to that, Saotome."

Ranma smiled; the way Nabiki had said her name triggered something within her - something old, something forgotten. For a moment, she felt like she was sixteen again, supremely cocky, arrogant to the point that she would take on the gods themselves if the cause was right. "Wouldn't have it any other way, Tendou." She gestured to the counter. "Besides, we probably need to be getting back - and the others are going to expect some dessert."

"... I tell you, Akane, the dressing room for the theater... you'd swear they'd learned their etiquette fighting for bread at lunch at Furinkan. Chaos - absolute chaos. I'd tried just about everything to find a place to get changed quickly. I even hung from the ceiling once, just to find room. Finally, one night, I got fed up. I kept my finale outfit hidden away, then just pulled Ha... the old master's clothing trick. One second I was in a tux and tails... the next I was in a can-can outfit, complete with a feather plume on my back! Needless to say, it got attention. Well, after that -"

"Um..."

Ranma stopped. Her gaze lingered at the shrine, more specifically at her fiancee's picture. "Yes..." She turned to look closely at the child addressing her, then at the dojo around them. "... Akane?"

The girl nodded. "Saotome-san, I'm sorry to interrupt... but I guess I was wondering something."

Ranma moved her body around to face the girl. "Okay... what are you wondering about?"

Akane pursed her lips into a frown. "Um... uh... how did you come up with your form of Musebetsu Kaketou?" she blurted, then blushed. "I mean, Grandfather has his... but I can't really fight like he does." Her hands fidgeted with her ponytail.

Ranma crossed her arms over her chest, an unconscious attempt to mimic both her father and Akane's grandfather. "Well... I think the best thing to do is to live and learn - to expose yourself to as many different styles as you can, practice as much as you can, and learn what works with you and doesn't work with you." She smiled wistfully; her eyes turned to the window outside, to the fading light of evening. "When I was growing up, Pop would take me to all of these different dojos and shrines. Mainly he wanted to just freeload, but he also brought me there to watch and learn - to see different martial arts techniques, and how to incorporate them into my own." She gestured back to Akane. "You've learned the basics of Musebetsu Kaketou, from what I've seen... I'm guessing you've tried your grandfather's moves, and they didn't suit you so much?"

Akane wrung her hands together. "There's just... well... they don't seem to work for me."

"Ah." Ranma nodded sagely. "That's kind of the point of Musebetsu Kaketou - to effectively take all of these other parts of other martial arts and make it into your own." She glanced quickly at the center of the dojo. "Can I see a kata?"

Akane immediately snapped to attention. "Hai!" The girl assumed a starting position; Ranma had her suspicions, but needed to see her perform before making any recommendations.

As Akane worked through a basic Musebetsu Kaketou kata, Ranma nodded. It was as she suspected. She let Akane finish her kata, then moved in front of her.

"Now. I'm going to do the same kata. I'm going to slow it down a bit, so you see what's going on." Ranma worked through the kata like an old friend, taking her time with each move, enjoying the feel of muscles moving to perfection. Ranma could practically feel the careful frown on Akane's features as she worked toward its conclusion. As though to accentuate her point, she rolled out of the end of the kata to face Akane.

"So. What did you see?"

Akane shook her head. "That's not how Grandfather does that kata..."

"And that's the point, kid." Ranma relaxed from her position. "Musebetsu Kaketou is about making the martial art your own. That means making it fit your body, its shape, its strengths and weaknesses. Over time, you'll find ways to address those weaknesses, to adapt the martial art to who you are and what you want to be." Her grin widened. "That's when you really start looking at other martial arts, to see what best fits in your repertoire."

"I guess..." The frown seemed painted onto Akane's features. "Um... this is going to sound odd... but is what Mom and Dad said about you true?"

Ranma raised an eyebrow. "That depends. What did they say?"

"They said you had a... curse. Like Uncle Ryouga or Mu Tsu, but..."

"But that I changed between a girl and a boy, right?" Ranma asked, a twinkle in her eye. Akane nodded sheepishly.

Ranma let out a deep breath. "Well… yeah. The reason why Akane and I - your aunt Akane and I - were engaged was because, well, at the time, I was a guy - just a guy with a curse to become a girl when hit with cold water."

Akane's brow furrowed in thought. "Did you have to adapt your martial art to fit?"

"Oh, yeah! Nearly lost a fight with Mu Tsu because of it; I hadn't yet gotten used to a girl's smaller reach." Ranma extended her arm out, forming her hand into a fist. "It's... it was good experience. What we work with is the human body - well, sometimes not even human, given Ryouga or Mu Tsu - and learning to understand how it works as best we can, to use it to the best of our abilities." She relaxed her stance. "Nothing forces you to understand yourself - how your body works - like becoming someone else."

"Oh." Akane looked down at the floor. "So... what happened? Mom and Dad say you got stuck as a girl... but that Aunt Akane still loved you."

"I did." Ranma's eyes misted over. "And we did love each other despite that." She glanced back at the photograph. "And in some ways because of it."

Akane tilted her head to one side. "What's it like?"

"What's what like?" Ranma blanched at the question. "Getting stuck as a girl?"

"Being in love like that." Akane spat, clearly frustrated. "I mean, Mom and Dad try to explain it... but they're Mom and Dad." She glowered at Ranma. "And don't give me that 'You're too young' stuff, either."

Ranma looked hard at Akane. "Love? Wow." She rubbed her chin in thought. "Who's the person you're closest to?" She already strongly suspected the answer; however, the question still needed to be asked. "Doesn't have to be romantic - in fact, it'd probably be better if it wasn't."

"Ranko?" Akane shrugged. "I mean, we're closer to each other than any friends..."

Ranma nodded, having received the answer she expected. "How would you feel if she wasn't a part of your life anymore?"

Akane stepped back, as if slapped. "It... I can't. She really annoys me sometimes, but..." She shrugged, indicating she didn't have words for what she thought. "She's literally always been there."

Ranma gave Akane a sad smile. "Being in love is sort of like that. It's getting to the point where someone is so entangled in your life that you can't imagine them outside of your life - and don't want to. They are a part of you, and you are of them. You'd die for them." Her smile faded. "You'd kill for them," she whispered.

Akane's eyes widened. "I don't think I'd kill for my sister!"

"Really?" Ranma asked. "Not even if her life was being threatened?"

Akane remained silent. Her mouth moved up and down, as though trying to capture some word to say.

Ranma held up a hand to stop any possible response. "Kid, nobody's asking you to. It's just that, well... your mom and aunt... they did have to face that question." She shook her head. "It was a very dark time, kid. You know your mom and your aunt, as responsible adults. I knew Kasumi and Nabiki, long before you were born." Ranma swallowed hard, and looked over at the picture in the shrine. "Knew your namesake, too. Would have killed for her. Would have died for her, too."

"Are you getting together with Aunt Nabiki?" Akane asked.

Ranma blinked. "What makes you say that?"

"Puh-leeze," Akane said, hands on her hips. "Since you came back from the dead, it's all she's talked about. Ever since you arrived, you haven't taken your eyes off her. And, when you started crying, she was the one you went to." She growled, reminding Ranma of her namesake. "I may be a kid, but I'm not stupid."

Ranma groaned. "Okay, kid. Come on. I suspect your mom should have supper just about ready."

Ranma smiled contentedly as she chewed on a piece of cabbage.

Some foods were burned into Ranma's brain, to the point that she would die with the smell and taste at the edge of her mind - her mother's stewed daikon most prominent among them. Some surprising entries on the list were those not from excellent cooks, but from people who had been a large part of her life, such as Akane's five-alarm curry and her father's campfire mackerel.

Few, however, could compare to Kasumi's sukiyaki. Money had been tight for the Tendous after Kimiko's death; Kasumi, in taking the role of household cook, had taken great pride in perfecting meals that could feed a family of four, including two active martial artists, on a limited budget. She'd had plenty of practice in her sukiyaki recipe; by the time Ranma and Genma had joined the household, Kasumi had become a master of the dish. As a result, each bite of the meat or vegetables, each sip of the broth, was a welcome homecoming for Ranma.

She looked out at those arrayed around the old table in the center of the room. Soun remained at the head of the table, the patriarch of the clan stoically holding court over his family. Toufuu sat opposite Soun, the next generation waiting and observing; Ranma smiled as Kasumi sidled up beside him. The remainder of the family took various positions around the table, enjoying the meal to varying levels of alertness or bliss.

Ranma frowned. She knew the moods of the adults in the room. Something had Soun agitated. Given the history between her family and his, that was a cause for concern. Granted, it shouldn't be, given that the dojo had already passed to Toufuu and Kasumi, but the separated schools of the Art was still cause for worry.

She thought of the various techniques she'd learned over the course of her life and realized the best method for getting through it: the Saotome Secret Technique, Ranma variation.

"Kasumi, I have dreamed of this sukiyaki. It's excellent, thank you."

Kasumi responded in typical Japanese deprecation. "Oh, it's nothing, really..."

Ranma bit her lip, a bit of mock uncertainty. "Um... do you mind if I cook breakfast tomorrow?" She glanced over at three sets of eyes watching her from the other side of the table. "I suspect you don't get many chances to sleep in."

Kasumi's eyes widened in surprise. It was a joy for Ranma to see the interplay of emotions on her face. "Oh, there's no need for you to do that, Ranma!" She waved a dismissing hand. "Besides, the Mus and Kenzans should be coming for breakfast in the morning. There's going to be so much to prepare...!"

"All the more reason I should prepare it, then," Ranma replied. She blushed furiously. "Besides, I rarely get to cook for anyone besides Mom and myself. And you know how good I am in a kitchen..."

Toufuu lightly touched Kasumi on the arm. "She's right, you know..." He gave her a gentle smile. "Let it go for once, dear." Ranma raised an eyebrow at Toufuu's tone. She doubted the others could pick up on Toufuu's real motivations, but Ranma was an actor; Toufuu's meaning practically broadcast to her.

After a long moment and a couple more surreptitious glances, Kasumi nodded. "O... Okay. I've already bought the ingredients. I'll leave instructions for tomorrow. Is that all right?"

Ranma beamed. Kasumi had cooked for her enough in her youth; it was more than right for her to return the favor. "That'll be fine, Kasumi."

The conversation stopped as Soun set down his bowl of rice, theatrically laying the chopsticks on the bowl. Ranma looked over at Kasumi and Nabiki; both their gazes were locked onto their father's movements. She couldn't help but smile at the children; they continued to eat their meals with the clumsy, rushed-but-at-least-somewhat-polite method common to children. (That it took her seventeen years to get to that point would remain unsaid.) He raised his eyes to Ranma and Nodoka, a neutral mask to his features.

"I was wondering if you could tell me how Genma died."

Nodoka looked outside the dining area, to the evening sky beyond. "We don't know - not for certain." Ranma moved her hand to Nodoka's shoulder for comfort.

Soun's eyes narrowed. "You weren't there when he died?"

Nodoka shook her head. "Genma was... Genma was not the same person after leaving Nerima. Building and uniting the schools had been his goal for so long that, when he found it a secondary part of our lives... he wasn't really sure what to do. Living in Takarazuka never suited him, not really. And with Ranma busy at the School and later in the Revue... training trips with the two of them were few and far between. Because of this, it wasn't unusual for him to go for weeks at a time to train on his own. He would jump at any chance to learn a new technique or to perfect the Art."

Ranma chose that moment to interject. "I had landed my first major role, that of Alyosha Karamazov; it was too good an opportunity to pass up. I dove into the preparation for the work. While I was working on that, Pop said he was headed out on another training trip. Didn't think much about it; like Mom said, Pop went out on training trips all the time. He said he'd be back in time for the first show." She purposely looked downward into her bowl of rice. If she looked anyone in the eye, she would start crying. "I never saw him again," she whispered.

Nodoka continued the narrative. "We didn't hear anything for months. We filed a missing persons report once it was clear that Genma hadn't come back." She blushed. "I don't think they took us seriously. After all, Genma went away all the time; how was this any different?" She looked over at her daughter. "Ranma handled it the way she handled anything; she buried herself in her work."

Ranma looked up as she felt someone touch her free hand – Nabiki. Nodoka raised an eyebrow at the contact, then continued her story. "It wasn't until the following spring that Genma's camp was found, long neglected; it had been abandoned for months. The authorities started looking from there; a few days later, they found his remains at the bottom of a cliff." Nodoka's hands rubbed against her cup of tea. "According to the coroner's report, his skull was fractured, along with several bones; whatever they did indicated that the fractures occurred before he died. The suspicion is that he slipped off of the cliff or impacted against the cliff while in aerial training; the skull fracture would have knocked him unconscious, while his injuries..." Nodoka closed her eyes. "Regardless, his suffering was brief."

Ranma blinked at the reactions around the table. Kasumi rarely truly expressed her anger at anyone; given the laser glare she was shooting her father's way, Ranma wondered if she'd been oni-possessed. Nabiki's eyes shifted between her sister and father, her scowl deepening. Toufuu glanced at each of his children, though Ranma suspected by the way Toufuu quickly averted his gaze that the move was designed more to avoid his wife than see to his children's needs. Soun looked down at the table, not wanting to look anyone in the eye, tears falling down his cheeks. When he finally looked up, Ranma blinked; every one of his years and every tragedy he'd faced were etched in his frown. "Nodoka, Ranma... I'm sorry. I tried."

Nabiki startled next to Ranma; Ranma felt the twitch of muscles in Nabiki's hand. "Daddy...?"

Soun let out a long sigh. "Genma was wed to the road. Nothing could pry him away - not a wife, not children... nothing." He took a sip of his tea. "The open road... it's seductive, to martial artists. The only responsibility is to the Art: no job, no family, nothing to interfere. Going from that to wife, kids, job, responsibilities... it's not an easy transition." He glanced over at Kasumi. "As my daughters will attest."

Kasumi frowned. "But Father, you made the transition... mostly." Soun winced at the words; Toufuu inched himself toward his wife, and wrapped an arm around her, an effort to calm whatever tempest had ignited Kasumi's anger.

Soun looked positively sheepish as he returned Kasumi's gaze. "I made the transition because of you, Kasumi." He looked over at Nabiki. "You and Akane as well." He took a sip of his tea, to gether himself before elaborating. "I was not the best of husbands during the early years of our marriage. Kimiko was exasperated at the Master constantly calling us away to train. To be honest, I did not fight him much... until I had daughters. I felt I needed to care for them, to protect them, to raise them." He looked over at Ranma. "Genma no doubt felt similarly, but, well..." He grimaced. "It was perhaps sexist of me, but I felt I had to raise my daughters here. Genma, on the other hand, felt it best to raise his son on the road. Time rewarded my domesticity for the most part, but taught Genma that the road was where a martial artist like him - like his son – belonged." He leaned back, and looked up at the ceiling. "I really wish I had a cigarette right now."

"Father!" That last statement renewed Kasumi's ire.

Soun simply chuckled in reply, but there was no mirth in it. "Yes, I know, Kasumi – I know. It's just that, well… this is not an easy subject to talk about." He looked Ranma in the eye. "I didn't see it until the two of you had arrived here. You were... you were a child of the road, Ranma. Absolutely perfect in the Art. But bringing you and Genma back to us... back to society... that was a far tougher challenge, especially for your father. For you, it was actually somewhat straightforward - you discovered what it was like to live with other people, to interact with others. It took time - and, well, changes - but it shaved some of the rough edges off. But Genma..." His face twisted in pain. "I tried what I could. Tried to make him comfortable here, almost sedate, even, while every instinct of his had him wanting to go back to training. Encouraged him to get a job with you, Toufuu, so that he could go back to a day-to-day routine. Fought off the old master as much as I was able, to keep him - keep both of you - grounded here. Even sent a note to your mother informing her where the two of you were." Ranma blinked in surprise and glanced at her mother; Nodoka nodded in reply. "I didn't know about the seppuku pledge, and how that would complicate things. Genma... he was married to the road. Nothing could keep him away for long." He looked away. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry."

Ranma looked over at her mother, a sick feeling in her stomach. Nodoka was crying, but made no move to disagree with Soun's words.

Ranma's hands were shaking. She desperately needed to get out, to practice, to immerse herself in her Art until she forgot that she even existed. She wanted to stop being Ranma, stop being anything for a little while, and her Art was the best way to do that.

Ranma's face turned downward to her own meal. After sukiyaki. Kasumi's sukiyaki, even salted with a few tears, was worth it. And given how hard she planned to work herself, she needed all the energy she could get.

One of the things Nabiki had come to love about her family and friends was the way they moved. All of them, herself included, had received some martial arts training; it provided a surety to their movements rarely found outside of the family. Daddy and Ryouga moved with the effortless power of a glacier, Kasumi and Toufuu with the easy flow of water. Even her nieces and nephews moved with purpose and grace, even if still somewhat unrefined.

The ultimate expression of that purpose and grace made itself known in front of her, a lost heir to the School dancing in the middle of the dojo in a basic black leotard.

Ranma flowed through her dance, her eyes closed, some unknown song playing in her head. She moved from position to position, a predictable, pleasing rhythm, likely a number from one of her many performances. It was a litany of perfection, every move calculated to the millimeter, yet somehow given a beauty more appropriate to the arts than to the Art. It was Kasumi's flow and Daddy's power, all in one lithe package. About the only issue with it was that it technically wasn't martial arts at all.

The dance reached its climax; Ranma was on her knees, hands splayed out around her, a dazzling smile on her face. Nabiki couldn't help herself; she started clapping.

"Bravo, Ranma!" Nabiki applauded.

Ranma turned around to face Nabiki. In an instant, the smile was gone, replaced with an embarrassed self-consciousness; she adjusted the fit of her leotard. "Thanks. Ever since I got in this business, well... let's just say that martial arts aren't the only art that I have to maintain."

Nabiki's eyebrows shot up. "Oh? What else have you been up to?"

"Well..." Ranma closed her eyes for a few seconds, let out a deep sigh, then opened them. Suddenly, Ranma's blue-eyed gaze hit her with the full force of a sledgehammer. So much pain, so much agony; for a moment, Nabiki felt like she was facing the seventeen-year-old that she and her sisters had talked back into living.

Nabiki's eyes widened. That was exactly what she was looking at – a seventeen-year-old Ranma, trying to find a reason to live. That year – Ranma's seventeenth, Nabiki's eighteenth – had not been a good one. She struggled to breathe as Ranma began to sing.

" This was who I once was
Nothing left of then
Time's run out for you and me
Only question's when
I know I don't deserve a thing
Not after all I've done
Every title held is gone
No father, man, or son
I'm not who I once was before
But who I'm going to be
I haven't got the faintest clue
So please, won't you show me?"

Ranma reached out desperately to clasp Nabiki's hands, pleading as though her life depended on it. Nabiki shivered at the touch, every instinct urging her to run, but at the same time unable to turn away. She understood; it was Jekyll and Hyde all over again, a character with far more of Ranma than anyone outside of the family would realize.

Nabiki's heart dropped to the floor as she realized: her sister Akane had likely faced this exact moment – only without the tune to accompany it. She wondered how stark, how raw the moment had been for the two of them: two kids, at what should have been the beginning of their lives together, instead facing the end, wondering how to salvage the pieces of their relationship.

"Forced here under circumstance
We tried to get along
We fought and argued all the time
So silly now, so wrong
I've treated you so horribly
Despite all that, you stayed.
You kept your faith and hope in me
Even when I strayed.
You've gotten what you once desired
Our ties are cut, you're free
But if the love we held was real
Just one more time – show me!"

Ranma's shaking fingers reached up to caress Nabiki's face. Her hands traced the curve of Nabiki's cheekbones and neck before returning to her original position, gently holding Nabiki's chin, trembling as though she was arguing for her very life; as they faced each other, a single tear rolled down Ranma's cheek. Nabiki's eyes were round as saucers as she took in Ranma's gaze, her heart pounding in her chest, her own tears threatening to join Ranma's. Ranma had always been intense, but this...!

"We had the world at one time
The folly of the young
Arrogance stole what we had
But maybe we've begun
This new world scares me to the core
No past, just future time
But what that future holds, my god!
No reason, sense or rhyme
I can't ask more than what you've done
But please, just hear my plea
I know I don't deserve you, but
This one last time… show me."

Time stopped as the two stared at each other. At that moment, it was as though a fog had lifted from Ranma's eyes; Nabiki could see the other parts of her coming back to the fore as Ranma pulled herself away from the song.

Ranma blushed, and turned away. "S... sorry about that. When I get up on stage, I tend to be... intense." She self-consciously adjusted a leotard strap - something Nabiki was noticing was a nervous habit with Ranma. "Some of the other actors... well, let's just say I've made a few enemies because I tend to expect them to be the same way." She managed a weak smile. "Thanks, by the way. I needed to stop being me for a minute."

Nabiki tried to catch her breath. She had her suspicions as to where the song had come from; however, she had to know for sure. "What song was that?"

Ranma blushed. "Um… I wrote it. Been writing a production based on what we went through. Suspect I'll have to get permission from some people to use their likeness if I ever want to see it performed on stage. But, well… remember what I was like, just after Herb?"

Nabiki nodded jerkily, still shaken by Ranma's performance. "You mean… you…"

Ranma's smile morphed into a relaxed grin; she was clearly in a positive mood, but lacked the bluster common to the old Ranma. "At the 'zuka school, we had to learn just about everything with regard to the stage. Dancing, singing, and acting are what our fans see, but that's only a small part of what we need. For instance, to understand music, we each had to learn how to play a couple of musical instruments." Ranma shifted from Japanese to English, spoken with only a slight British accent. "We had to take several foreign languages and master them to fluency; English was a given." She switched between several other languages; Nabiki couldn't understand what was said, but knew enough to recognize French and Italian. Ranma then switched back to Japanese. "We also had to take courses in writing, in stagecraft, and in music theory so that we wouldn't just understand what to do, but why as well. All of that… well, all of that led to what you just saw." She sighed. "And, well, that takes practice to maintain. Singing and dance are every day, just like martial arts; I'll generally practice with the musical instruments several times a week."

Nabiki blinked. "Wow." That Ranma had grown from beyond the sixteen-year-old ragamuffin that showed up on the Tendou doorstep was obvious. That Ranma had developed so beautifully, into a complex, refined, and frightfully intelligent being with layers upon layers to explore, she was just beginning to appreciate. She thought about Ranma's language skills, and another question came to mind. "Have you ever been outside of Japan?"

Ranma nodded. "Sort of. We did a tour of the United States a couple of years back. Was nice, but I probably drove a couple of people crazy over there. Somehow, I don't think they were used to martial artists like me." Her smile twisted slightly. "The muggers certainly weren't."

"Well... you can't expect the world to be like Japan," Nabiki replied. She thought of the places she'd visited over the years. "As for me, well... been to a couple of places here and there. Los Angeles, Sydney, Singapore... friends have been to Hawaii and keep telling me to go, but..."

"I know." Ranma's voice was tight, her smile vanished. "Had to play Honolulu as part of the tour. I basically practiced - all the time. Everyone else thought I was nervous about the show." She grimaced. "I just didn't want to be reminded of the Kunous. Yeah, pineapple-head wasn't the one that did the deed, but..."

Nabiki found herself looking away. "Kasumi and Toufuu went to Honolulu for their honeymoon. Granted, part of that was so they'd be out of town when things went south, but..." Her voice took on a brittle edge. "Never had the urge to go there. Don't even want to think about there."

"Yeah." Ranma pursed her lips. "Mom told me about what was planned, with the wedding and blood feud and all." Nabiki startled as Ranma wrapped her arms around her. "Sorry to put you through that."

"Y..." Nabiki didn't say a word. She didn't trust herself to speak. Ranma just held on to her; Nabiki slowly inched her arms up Ranma's back as she took in the scent of Chanel and vanilla. Words tumbled from Nabiki's lips, words she'd written into rice paper and later mounted on her apartment wall, words burned forever into her psyche.

"Kingin wa
chi to hikaku shite
nanimonai."*

*translation: Gold and silver are nothing when compared to blood.

Ranma's breath hitched at the words, clearly understanding the meaning. "Death poem?"

Nabiki nodded, fighting back tears. "Thought about my life, when all that was going on. Didn't like what I found. If my life up to eighteen was it, if had to leave a final message... well."

"I... yeah. I understand that." Ranma took a deep breath, relaxed their embrace, and stared Nabiki in the eyes.

"Akai hana
fuyu ne tooketsu
haru ni saku."*

*translation: Red flower, frozen in winter, blooms in spring.

Ranma and Nabiki stared at each other, unable to turn away, the tears welling in their eyes clouding their vision. After a moment, Ranma forced her gaze from Nabiki, clearly embarrassed as she scratched the back of her head.

"I... I'd better get some sleep if I want to cook breakfast in the morning."

The impulse hit Nabiki before she could stop herself. "Can I join you?" Nabiki stopped and blushed, realizing the possible implications of what she'd just said. "I mean, to help cook."

Ranma stared at her for a long moment, as though weighing her martial arts skill. Finally, a gentle smile reached her features.

"Yeah, Nabiki. I'd like that a lot."

nightelf

September 3, 2018