Chapter Eighteen – Take One For The Team
Ranma
Ranma's game with Kasumi fell apart later that week when Kasumi took things too far.
For starters, today was a Saturday, and Ranma was about ready to collapse. School was exhausting when he constantly had to watch what he said and did, and the grind of secrecy had begun to wear on him. Genma was going harder in their spars than usual; Ranma had to pull himself out of bed, sore, every morning. Akane's room was panda-free, an absolute mercy. Akane was his sanctuary, a single point of calm and constancy in the chaos, but even she was running out of patience.
For example:
Ranma slipped out of bed, crawling over Akane and leaving the room with careful steps. When the covers rustled behind him, he winced, turned around, and grimaced at Akane. "Morning?"
Akane glared at him, draped in covers, her eyes burning with the fires of Hell. Ranma laughed and backed against the wall as she rose. She growled something incomprehensible under her breath, of which Ranma only caught "sleep" and "stupid idiot," then swept past him out the door. Ranma didn't move again until he heard a slamming noise came from the furo.
Therapy had done wonders for Akane's temper, but Ranma knew better than to test his luck. The last time Akane had slugged him, he'd had a black eye for days.
Secondly, Ranma's internal thoughts got more and more conflicted with every passing day. Some days he hated going to school as a girl, hated Ukyo, hated everything, to the point where he questioned why he didn't just march into the okonomiyaki shop and rip the band-aid off once and for all. Even worse, he was simultaneously having the time of his life at school. Now that Sayuri and Yuka knew, the four of them (plus Ukyo) were closer than ever before.
Ranma had come to realize that the exhilaration was nothing more complex than having friends – real friends, not rivals or allies. Ranma liked eating lunch with the same people every day and having people to ask about homework. He liked how Yuka and Sayuri cared, but didn't pry. Hell, he just liked being friends with girls for once, and avoiding all of the stupid posturing and cruel jokes Hiroshi and Daisuke wasted their time with. Ranma had always had trouble making friends with other guys – it had never occurred to him that the solution was to hang out with girls instead.
He wasn't supposed to like those things, though. It wasn't manly. And for all Ranma was coming to realize his old man was full of shit, he couldn't divorce himself of the thought.
And the third reason was simple: he had a nasty headache, and didn't want to deal with the world today.
Standing at the furo door, Ranma rapped on the wood, his annoyance beating out his fear of Akane. He had fallen asleep as a girl last night, and he wanted the weight off his chest. "'Kane, hurry up!" he called. "I ain't gonna stay like this all morning."
The door yanked open. Akane stood behind it, wearing nothing but a towel, and glared at him. "Then stop whining and do it," she snapped, spinning on her heel and marching back in.
"Bu-" Ranma flushed, looking away. We can't use the furo at the same time!
"Come in and get it over with!" Akane's voice echoed off the walls. "Are we engaged or not?"
Fine. Be that way.
The hot water splashed over the porcelain, slowly warming up to activate Ranma's curse. Ranma and Akane stood at opposite ends of the furo, avoiding looking at each other. He had to fight to keep his eyes off the mirror. This is so embarrassing, he thought, ignoring the burning in his gut. I mean, we're engaged, but we're not engaged engaged – or are we? And if we are engaged engaged, then should we be doing more engaged engaged engagements? Am I engaging her enough?
Engaged doesn't even sound like a word anymore…
Thoroughly confused, Ranma felt the transformation wash over him, and sighed in satisfaction at having all his bits back in the right place. Shaking his hand to get the water off, Ranma turned to come face-to-face with a very naked Akane.
He stared, forgetting to look away. Akane stared back, making no move to cover herself up. She looked just as shocked at he felt.
Ranma had seen the female body naked, obviously. Seeing somebody else naked was a whole different ballgame, and when that person was Akane… Akane blushed, searching Ranma's eyes for something. Biting his lip, Ranma hesitated; for some reason, he felt like breaking eye contact would break something more, something fragile, and whatever it was, he didn't want to let go. He knew he was blushing too.
"You should be more quiet when you wake up," Akane said, her voice quiet, as she moved to cover her chest with one arm.
"You should move faster in the bathroom," Ranma responded. Akane cracked a little smile, and he smiled back. Ducking his head, he swept past her back to their room, leaving her to finish washing up.
So there. Maybe Ranma had a fourth thing on his mind too.
In any case, the glass of cold water right to the face wasn't appreciated. Ranma spluttered, clawing away droplets from his eyes, as Genma guffawed by his game with Soun. Kasumi's too-sweet smile swam in his blurry vision. Kasumi leaned forward, reaching over to brush red, bedraggled bangs out of his face. "Oh, dear," she said. "I'm afraid I-"
"Cut it out, alright?!"
Ranma slapped Kasumi's hand away with an audible crack. The entire room winced. Kasumi recoiled into the silence as Ranma breathed heavily, trying to control himself against the rush of grossness the transformation brought on, his throat thick with discomfort.
Kasumi recovered first, and went back to her business. Gulping, Ranma forced himself to return to eating. He disliked the frown Nabiki directed at him, or the way her eyes flicked between him and Kasumi. She knows something. What does she know?
"The boy's getting disrespectful, hitting girls," Genma muttered. Ranma chose to ignore his father.
"You know," Kasumi said, her tone conversational as if he hadn't yelled at her. "I could use help around the house again today, Ranma. You were so helpful last time, after all."
"Sure," Ranma grumbled. "Whatever. But I ain't gonna go near water, ya hear me?"
"Oh, of course. Now, just wait a second..."
Kasumi knelt down and pulled something out of the cupboard. Smiling, she held it out toward Ranma, who frowned and eyed it balefully. The thing was made of some sort of green fabric, with little bits of white lace visible. To Ranma's horror, when Kasumi unfurled it, it turned out to be a frilly green dress, exactly the sort of dress Kasumi or Akane might wear but even more feminine. Her next words dawned on Ranma before she said them.
"I'm sure you wouldn't mind wearing one of these while we do the housework, then," Kasumi said. "If you wear one of these, you'll be safer whi-"
Ranma jumped to his feet. "That's it. I'm done with this shit. Gimme that." Stalking across the room, he snatched the dress from Kasumi and started walking away. "I ain't a girl, alright? I ain't gonna wear your stupid dresses and I don't know what your problem with me is, but why don'tcha leave me alone for a change!?"
To her credit, or maybe detriment, Kasumi's expression turned guilty. She opened her mouth to speak, but Ranma was already walking away. "Where are you going? You haven't finished breakfast..."
Almost feeling bad, Ranma gave her a murderous glare and brandished the dress. "I'm going to burn this," he snapped. "Don't bother me."
And Ranma stalked away up the stairs, past a very confused Akane, and slammed the door to their room behind him. For a long time, he stood in the center of the room, holding the dress. His fury battled with his logic, which eventually won out. He wasn't a freeloader – the dress was nice, made of high-quality fabric, and probably did belong to Kasumi. He wouldn't destroy her clothes out of petty anger. Disgusted with everything, Ranma flung the dress into the closet, back where Akane kept her bin of old shoes, and bit back a cry of frustration.
After a while, he climbed back into bed and pulled the covers over his head. What was the point of changing back into a guy if the world was conspiring for his curse to make his life miserable? Maybe if he went back to sleep, all his problems would go away.
Kasumi
Kasumi, lying on her bed on her back, didn't bother acknowledging Nabiki when she entered her bedroom. That wasn't a unique occurrence – Nabiki spent more time in Kasumi's room than her own, preferring Kasumi's often-quiet presence to solitude. Kasumi didn't blame her either. Nabiki's room was cold, impersonal, with stark walls and neatly ordered dressers, and her little sister already had enough ice in her life. Aside from the occasional visit from Tofu or one of her old school friends, Kasumi didn't have anyone but family either. When Nabiki wanted to open up to her, she welcomed it and never turned her away.
Today, though, she was the one who needed to open up.
"You've got to stop," Nabiki said in a disinterested voice. She sat at Kasumi's desk, feet kicked up on her bed, clicking a ballpoint pen every few seconds.
Kasumi closed her eyes. "I know."
"Regardless of how you feel about it, Ranma's curse is affecting him more than he lets on. I know it. You know it. Akane knows more than both of us. You're hurting him, and I've never seen you like this before. It's not like you to take things so personally."
"I'll apologize tomorrow."
"Nevertheless." Nabiki leaned forward, wrapping her arms around her legs and pulling her chest to her knees. "That's a solution. I want answers. Otherwise, I can't help you, and I hate being useless."
The bed was so soft after making it. Smoothing out the comforter always pushed the fluffy parts to the center of the mattress, where her head rested. "Mmm..."
"Kasumi-nee."
Fine. Resentment rose like bile, such an ugly feeling – but Kasumi could show it to Nabiki. She trusted Nabiki. Without Nabiki, Kasumi didn't know who she could confide in, and trust decayed without exercise. "I don't get it," she said softly. "I don't get why he would want to be a girl."
Nabiki held up the pen and inspected it, her face betraying nothing of her thoughts. "So you see it too."
"Of course I do. We all can, even Daddy and the panda." Kasumi shifted, searching for a more comfortable position. "Why?"
The clicking stopped. Nabiki laughed a little, her chin perched on her knee, gazing out the window. She seemed years younger, affixed by some childish amusement like a bug in the backyard or a loose cable poking out from the wall. "Why do you think?" she asked. "Ranma's been cursed; maybe it's the magic? Magic, sis. If Jusenkyo could turn him into a girl physically, then why not mentally too? Or maybe he felt that way before, and this unlocked those feelings. I would believe it if all of his crazy manliness ideas came because he was trying to keep the rest of his feelings down."
"I prefer the first," Kasumi murmured.
Nabiki agreed. "So do I. The second... To feel that way your whole life and lock it away, only to receive such a curse would be cruel. With a father like his..."
Kasumi's eyes drifted back open, the creamy white ceiling coming back into view. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, trying to hide her deep frown. "This can't last," she said. "Ranma won't want to stop attending Furinkan as a girl. He'll realize his feelings soon, and then-"
"Genma Saotome would never stand for a pervert as a son," Nabiki muttered darkly. "Even if that son is his biological daughter."
They locked eyes, their thoughts traveling along the same paths. Nabiki pursed her lips, leaning back in the chair. Footsteps passed by in the hall outside, punctuating every word hanging heavy in the still air.
"We'll take care of him."
"We will."
"No matter what."
"Yeah."
"I didn't come in here to talk about Ranma, though," Nabiki said. Of course she hadn't. Kasumi knew Nabiki had known exactly what she had wanted from the moment she had walked in the door, and she wouldn't leave until she was satisfied. Nabiki was an unmovable force; Kasumi would bend in the breeze for anything, even if nothing was able to touch her back. No, she was protective, she would defend her family, but within the walls of her own home…
Kasumi sighed. Change was coming, and she had been resisting it – too much so. Now she would give in. "I think I already know what I'm going to say to Ranma. You might as well hear it too."
Akane
Yawning, Akane put her toothbrush back in its holder, rubbing at her tired eyes. She lingered at the sink, uncertain of how to approach Ranma. He had locked himself in her room all day, and she'd only managed to piece together a partial picture of what had happened. Nabiki had said something about a dress? Akane knew how unwise it could be to push Ranma when he was hurting – the last thing she wanted was for him to turn his anger on her. She had stayed away, hung out with Yuka for a few hours, and waited for his pride to heal to the point where she thought he'd let her help him.
He should be alright now though, right? Akane wondered, brushing her thumb under her nose aimlessly. Nabiki made it sound like Ranma finally shut Kasumi down. Although, I still don't know why she's been… trying to make Ranma more girly? More like her? Some of the weird stuff they've been doing around the house isn't feminine at all.
Folded towels by the furo door every day was always welcome. Akane held a deep appreciation for her sister and everything she did for their family. I wonder… She pushed away from the mirror and started to wander back toward her room. It's clearly got something to do with Ranma's curse and housework. Maybe she wants more help? I could try to cook sometime, I guess.
Yeah. Akane would cook dinner one night and give everyone else a break. It was the least she could do.
She stopped at her closed door at the end of the hall. Rapping her knuckles against the wood, she murmured. "Ranma? Can I come in?" When nobody answered, Akane waiting for a few agonizing seconds, tapping her foot. "Are you okay?"
Rustling noises came from inside the room.
"Ranma, you've been in there all day. I just want to talk."
After a long pause, the quiet murmur came from her room. "Come in." Frowning, Akane pushed the door open and stopped in her tracks.
The window was open, letting the cold winter air into the room. The streetlamp outside cast light through the gap. In the middle of the room, Ranma stood with his arms crossed one over the other, shivering. He wore a green and white dress with ruffles that looked like it could have belonged to Kasumi, short-sleeved, and his goosebumps on his arms were pronounced enough for Akane to see. His cheeks were rosy, flush from the cold, and messy red hair, wild and unkempt, spilled over his shoulders and into his face. The chill had reached her eyes; Ranma stared at her, unmoving, his expression scaring her with its dead intensity.
"Ranma?" Akane whispered.
Ranma stared back. Cold wind spilled into the room, blowing over the dress. The only sign she could find that he had acknowledged her was the trembling of his lips, as if he was trying to find words to put together and coming up short.
"It- It's freezing in here." Akane rushed over and yanked the window shut, closing it too forcefully. The glass rattled in the panes. Turning back, she tried to approach Ranma but he pulled away. "How long have you been standing there? Are- Are you okay?"
Starting to shake, Ranma looked down. Akane had never seen him without a ponytail or a braid; unbound hair made him younger. More frail. Blue played at the edges of his face. "This isn't what it looks like," he whispered, nearly too quiet for her to hear. "I'll take it off. I'll take it off. I'll-"
Akane didn't know what it looked like. She only knew the cold.
When she moved, Ranma shut up. He watched her like a ghost as she went to her closet and pulled an old varsity jacket off a hanger, a relic from middle school sports. It didn't fit her anymore, but it would fit Ranma. Akane approached him with caution, trying not to spook him, and gently slipped the jacket over his shoulders. He flinched at the touch.
Their eyes met. Akane gulped, feeling like whatever she would say would make a big difference in how Ranma reacted. "Do you want to take it off?"
Ranma shook his head and gave her wide, fearful eyes. He asked, "What's wrong with me?" and looked at her. As if he expected an answer. As if Akane was his last hope.
Nothing. Akane took in Ranma's dress one more time, trying to keep her thoughts of her face. There's nothing wrong with you, Ranma. I think you know that too, somewhere. This is… this is what he wants, and I- I can't be the one to give him, give him permission. I-
So she didn't answer. Taking Ranma's icy hand, she pulled him into their shared bed, stepping over his futon which was slowly gathering dust. Clothes on, dress and all. He didn't protest when she tucked him in next to her and hugged him like his life depended on it. Akane almost wished he would cry – anything would have been better than the vacant stare – but he didn't. He fell asleep before her and his breathing evened out, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
It took Akane a long time to drift off to sleep that night.
[A/N] We're getting somewhere with this, I promise. Ranma's pretty close to a point of realization, and everyone knows it. Nothing lasts forever under immense stress, although ignorance is more powerful than some. The human will is a fickle thing.
Sometimes when you feel like your actions are out of your control, little things can help you feel grounded. Of course, crazy martial artist he is, Ranma's 'little thing' is standing in the late Fall night chill. He didn't feel it much, but Akane sure did. Brr.
All in all, a pretty dark chapter. I'll do my best to get the next one out soon! Nothing'll cheer Ranma up quite like the, ah, unique experience that is Akane's cooking. Good thing Ukyo runs a restaurant...
Thank you to Beedok, Alucard, CHPrime, Katt, Keeper, LycanRed, roxas, Compucles, gort, psychicshipping, elusivetruth, Ergoemos, and HelloElmore for your wonderful reviews. I've always loved Kasumi and I find that she, of all the female influences Ranma has in his life, is the one he imprinted on in 'Am I Pretty?' fascinating. It makes my heart glow that y'all thought I did her justice.
As always, much love,
Allie