"Your mother is something else," you murmur to your child, who is conveniently asleep, head on your shoulder as you carry him. You feel a puddle of drool seeping through your red shirt. You step through the entrance with the automatic sliding doors, fluorescent lights hitting your face in an instant that cause you to squint. With your child still in your arms, you bend over this way and that to grab a shopping basket stacked high from the floor.
Your eyes scan the grocery store until you see the sign for aisle 5: COOKIES, CRACKERS, CANDY, SNACKS.
After a few minutes, you adjust your son in a better position to keep him from slipping. He stirs in his sleep as you reach for a package of dried cuttlefish at the bottom shelf. Successfully, you toss the package into the basket. You smile in satisfaction, but it quickly dissolves as no one is around to praise your ability to juggle a son, a basket, and junk food around.
"Ranma," you hear a familiar voice. You can't quite wrap it around your head. "Ranma, is that you?"
Turning towards the voice, you instantly recognize it. Ukyo. You rack your brain, trying to remember the last time you saw her. It must be years ago, you decide, because she wasn't at the wedding. Well, you snort inwardly, at least not the successful one. "Ukyo." Not Ucchan. Ukyo. The name is foreign to your tongue, but you realize she hadn't called you Ran-chan, either. Your son whines in protest at the noise.
"Oh, wow," Ukyo breathes. "Who—who's this?" She's two feet away, her stare fixated at your son. You can't quite read her eyes. Is it a combination of regret and curiosity?
"This is Satoshi," you say after a moment's hesitation. "He just turned three." You watch her, taking this all in. She's the same, really. Has the same long brown hair, sports the exact clothes she wore when you were in high school. It's her eyes, though, you notice, that have changed. They're more peaceful and wiser now, less angry. "What brings you here?" you bring up. After all, it's nearly eleven, well past Satoshi's bedtime.
She holds up a carton of milk; you suddenly remember to pick up a carton of milk before you leave the store. "You?" she asks. Her eyes stray to your basket full of brightly colored packages of black licorice, barbecue rice crackers, chocolate covered almonds, and the likes.
"Just snacks." You laugh.
"H-How's Akane?" she asks hesitantly.
"Great. Pregnant," you blurt out. Actually, it's the reason you and Satoshi are here in the first place. Irritated with you, your wife kicked you out with your son, telling you not to come back until you brought her the snacks she so desperately craves. She was near tears when she found the package of cuttlefish empty. These days, anything and everything will set your wife off to waterworks.
"Congratulations," Ukyo exclaims happily, though her smile doesn't quite reach her eyes. "Listen, I just moved back in town," she continues. "We should get together sometime."
"Definitely," you agree, but neither of you makes an effort to exchange contact information. You suppose, if she really wanted, she could drop by the Tendo residence. It's the place you've called home ever since you were sixteen.
She makes the first move to leave. "It was good seeing you. Fatherhood suits you, Ranma," she adds a moment later. Ukyo walks off.
You feel a twinge of guilt that it was so awkward between the two of you. But you really don't have time to dwell on that. Your wife is expecting you to bring home the cuttlefish and milk any moment now. After adjusting your son once more and kissing him atop his head, you set out for the dairy section.