Chapter Twenty Seven – How (Not) to Parent Your Transsexual Daughter
[TW] Suicidal Ideation, Transphobia, Child Abuse, Mentioned Forced Sterilization. Also Genma Saotome, because really Genma deserves his own trigger warning at this point.
Ranko
Ranko crept down the dojo hallway, still trembling from the cold even after shedding her coat and entering the heated interior. She didn't know if Pops was home, and she didn't know if Akane was sleeping. She stalled at the door to Akane's room – her room, their room – and peered inside. Silver moonlight fell over Akane's tendely slumbering face; Akane slept on her side, one arm lying over the empty space in their bed where Ranko was supposed to be.
Joining her fiancee should have been the easiest thing in the world.
Transsexual daughter, Ranko thought.
All Ranko had to do was go inside. Go get in bed with her fiancee, give her a big old hug, maybe steal a few kisses too, and everyone would be happy. What Pops didn't know wouldn't hurt him.
She doesn't know, Ranko thought. She doesn't know, she didn't know, she doesn't recognize me…
It would be so easy.
Seppuku, Ranko thought.
Ranko clapped a hand over her mouth, choking back a sob. Her back hit the dojo wall.
She was fine. She was fine. She had to be fine, because if Ranko Saotome wasn't (a man-among-men) fine, then that meant- that meant that she wasn't fine, Ranko wasn't okay, and if- No, it was unthinkable. But if Ranko wasn't fine that meant that Pops had failed, that meant that Pops had- Pops was- But she loved Genma. She had to love him, he was her Pops, and now Nodoka was going to kill him- A horrible little squeak of terror escaped Ranko's lips, and tears sprang to her eyes. Ranko shook her head against the dojo wall, staring up at the ceiling, and clamped her hand down harder, as though she could muzzle herself. Muffle herself, quiet herself, make herself good, she could be good – no, she had to be, she had to be the best, and Ranma was the best, he was a man-among-men-
But Ranma was gone.
Ranma was dead.
Jusenkyo had stolen that illusion from Ranko, and now Ranko was all that Ranko had left.
Maybe it would be better-
No, Ranko thought ferociously, ripping herself away from the way and stumbling to the other side of the hall, pressing her back to the plaster with flat palms. Her breath quickened. No, no, no. I won't, I'll never. It didn't matter what her honor called for her to do, Ranko would never-
But what if her mother was the one who handed her the blade?
She said she would never kill her daughter, Ranko told herself, even though it couldn't stop her arms from shaking. She promised. She wouldn't kill me. She would just kill Pops.
But if Nodoka had cared then she wouldn't have let Genma take her away-
Whimpering, Ranko sank down to the hallway floor, curling into a little ball.
"Ranko?"
Ranko jerked her head up in terror, recoiling away from Kasumi's form in the doorway to her bedroom. Kasumi wore nothing but her nightgown, her hair a little disheveled and her eyes heavy with sleep, but she had her gaze fixed on Ranko, intent with a concern that make Ranko really want to freak. Ranko held herself as frozen as possible, the rapid rise and fall of her chest her only movement. She stared at Kasumi – but her true gaze felt fixed behind her, hyperfixated on the doorway to where she knew her father to be.
Kasumi lifted her fingers to her lips in surprise, disgust? No, concern. "Ranko?" she repeated, her whisper thick with fatigue.
Ranko trembled, shaking her head as rapidly as she dared.
Glancing around with worried eyes, her gaze noting Akane, fast asleep in the other room, Kasumi inhaled quietly and tried to step closer to Ranko. Ranko flinched away. What was wrong with her? She was supposed to be- No! She was being so stupid. Just a stupid, weak girl who couldn't even keep her- her- God, Ranko didn't even know what, but she was doing a terrible job at keeping it to herself. Kasumi swallowed.
"Should I get Akane?" Kasumi whispered, one hand falling over her nightdress, fingers curled against her breast.
Ranko shook her head.
Uncertain washed over Kasumi's face, and it struck Ranko that he had never seen Kasumi act with anything less than self-assurance, not even when Kasumi had tried to prod at his curse. It didn't suit her, the lack of confidence. "You're shaking," Kasumi breathed, drifting to Ranko's side, where she went down to her knees and reached out to touch her shoulder.
"'Sumi," Ranko choked out. She buried her face in her knees. "Big sis."
"Hey," Kasumi said. "Hey, hey, hey… Shh…" When Ranko whimpered, Kasumi shot a wary glance toward Genma's room.
Rather than trying to coax Ranko into motion, a resolved expression crossed Kasumi's face. With the same ease as a basket of laundry, Kasumi scooped Ranko up into her arms. Ranko eeped in surprise, so startled that she forgot to panic, and stared wide-eyed as Kasumi effortlessly carried her into her room, toeing the door shut behind them.
Kasumi deposited Ranko onto her floral bedspread, brushing off her hands in satisfaction.
"What?" Ranko asked weakly.
The look that Kasumi gave Ranko wasway tooreminiscent of Nabiki, and Ranko gaped at Kasumi's satisfied little smirk. "Who do you think was the martial artist in the family before Akane?"
The confession, for all that Kasumi's humor remained an unexpected surprise, still made Ranko melancholy, and Ranko picked at the little yellow embroidered flowers on Kasumi's bedspread, the dark night painting the room in grayscale around her. She forgot, sometimes, that the Tendos had lost their mother too. Only Nodoka wasn't lost – she lived less than a ward away. Ranko could have run tearfully into her arms; she could have confessed everything, could have put Genma on the chopping block and told her everything, and the only thing standing between her and the mother she had always longed for, but only vaguely remembered, was a discrete question to Nabiki asking for Nodoka's address. But Kasumi and Nabiki and Akane would never get their mother back. She was dead.
I could have my mother back, Ranko thought, then shook her head at her own idea. But she'd hate me. She'd hate me. She wants her son, not- not whatever this is.
A stray tear came away damp on her fingers.
Kasumi stood in the center of her room for a long minute, watching Ranko and waiting for her to say something. She looked uncertain again; it was such a startling look on the other girl. Kasumi was elegance, she was put-together – when Ranko managed to fight around her lifetime of anti-feminine conditioning, she admired Kasumi for it. So seeing Kasumi in her own sanctuary, hair down, makeup free, freely allowing her into her room when they both should have been sleeping – it gave Ranko a whole new perspective of Akane's older sister. Because Kasumi wasn't a housewife-in-training, Ranko suddenly realized, not the demure picture she presented to the world, not the endless reservoir of grace and steel that provided the backbone of the Tendo household.
Kasumi Tendo was just a girl.
And somehow, that changed everything for Ranko.
Oblivious to the epiphany Ranko was having, Kasumi gave up on waiting and heaved a gentle sigh; she walked over and gracelessly flopped back onto her bed, lying a few feet away from Ranma to stare at the ceiling. Ranko peeked a sidelong glance at Kasumi, blushing despite herself. Kasumi was pretty too – even though Ranko was pretty sure she only though that way because she looked like Akane. Her skin was soft, and caught the moonlight. Kasumi raised her hand above her, toyed with her fingers like there was nothing she'd rather be doing in the world. She looked relaxed.
"You're different like this," Ranko said quietly, earning a curious glance from Kasumi. Ranko gave Kasumi a weak smile. "You seem happier."
Kasumi made a pensive face, tilting her finger against her jaw. "You think?"
"Yeah," Ranko whispered. "It's nice. I like it. You, I mean. I like it when you're happy."
A gentle smile crossing her face, Kasumi reached up to toy with the end of Ranko's braid. She let her fingers fall, and they stared at each other for a moment – it felt to Ranko as though they had a silent conversation, but Ranko didn't have the slightest idea what was said. "You're a sweet girl, Ranko-chan," Kasumi murmured, her eyes drifting shut as though she hadn't made it sound like there was more to be said.
Yeah, Ranko thought bitterly, remembering the callous way she had torn her mother's vulnerable hopes and regrets to shreds. Sweet.
The bed shifted. Beneath her, the bedspread twisted as Kasumi climbed beneath her sheets, knees bent, head on her pillow as she laid on her back. Kasumi closed her eyes with a tender exhalation; for a moment, Ranko was frozen. Was Kasumi just going to go to sleep? Did Ranko need to leave? Newfound tears of frustration sprang to her eyes. I'm being weird, Ranko panicked, hopping to the edge of the bed. She doesn't wanna have you slobbering all over her bed, ya dummy! That's what 'Kane's for. Thatthought made Ranko feel even guiltier, and she went to slip away – to sleep in the dojo, maybe, even though it was December. They wouldn't be the worst conditions she had ever slept in. At least the dojo was dry and had a roof.
Before Ranko could make her grand escape, a hand reached out to snag hers.
"Where are you going?" Kasumi asked sleepily, holding her other hand over her mouth to cover a yawn.
Ranko swallowed.
"Dunno," she whispered.
Kasumi yawned again, shaking her head, and gently pulled Ranko closer. Ranko let herself be pulled, shrinking in on herself the closer she got to the bed. Akane was one thing; Ranma was supposed to sleep with Akane, she was supposed to give her cute kisses at school and let Akane touch her, because Akane was her fiancee. But Kasumi was Akane's sister; she wasn't being some kind of perfect fiancee, or perfect anything. They couldn't sleep together. It would be weird and gross and then Kasumi would hate him and call him a pervert, just like that time he had dressed up as a girl when he was little to sneak into a village sleepover, and then Pops had stolen the village bell and ripped the little wig of his head, and all of the village girls had screamed when they'd found out he was a gross perverted boy- Huh, Ranko thought, her thoughts stalling. That anecdote had never felt quite so… terrible when she had told it to herself before.
"Little sister," Kasumi said, breaking Ranko out of her spiraling thoughts. Kasumi's eyes shone with sympathy. "You're thinking too much."
Ranko shook with shame. "'Sumi."
In her simple way, Kasumi hushed Ranko from her fear, tugging her until Ranko had no choice but to climb beneath the covers and bury herself in Kasumi's floaty floral perfume. Kasumi smelled so good. Like fresh laundry, like home. Nodoka smelled good too. As her exhaustion overtook her, helpless tears escaping her as she laid her head down next to Kasumi, Ranko wished that she could smell good someday too. "Sleep, Ranko," Kasumi whispered, running her fingers along Ranma's cheek and draw the covers up around them. "It's okay. You're safe here with me."
Ranko wanted to smell good. She wanted to wear pretty kimonos and to smile like steel and for Akane to tell her that she looked pretty, and she wanted to love all those things without hating herself for it. She wanted her mother to love her. Was that such a childish imagination? Was that so hard to make herself believe? Because Ranko loved Nodoka; suddenly little wisps of ancient memory had been made present to her, made apparent, and Ranko saw that things she had searched for her entire life, little flutters of femininity, her small rebellions against Pops and his cruel training methods, they had always been things which had reminded her of her mom. Ranko wanted to be like Nodoka. Ranko had always wanted to be like her mother, hadn't she? So why did that thought hurt so much?
Nodoka had claimed that Ranma had always idolized Genma. Ranko hadn't been brave enough to tell her mother that she had idolized her too.
"I like it when you're happy too, Ranko-chan," Kasumi whispered into the small space between them.
And as they drifted off to a wearied sleep, a small thought occurred to Ranko- Something little, tentative, like a sprout first watered. It wasn't a mighty thought, it couldn't truly stand against the crushing weight that Ranko felt looming around her – but there it was, sprouting all the same:
If Kasumi Tendo was just a girl, then maybe Ranko Saotome could just be a girl too.
Kasumi's fingers tightened in her grip.
Akane
Akane Tendo was in a foul mood.
So her therapist wanted her to moderate her anger – Akane was having a bad day, so sue her. It wasn't her fault that Ranko hadn't come to bed last night, leaving her waking up periodically through out the night, searching for a nice warm fiancee who wasn't there. Ranko had promised her that she wouldn't run off again without telling her. And Akane knew that Ranko must be having a problem, she knew that Ranko was probably off with Ukyo, sleeping at Ucchan's, but it pissed her off all the same.
She scowled as she put on her uniform. She scowled as she did her hair. She scowled as she stomped across the room to throw her schoolbooks in her bag, and Akane still wore a dark scowl when she flung open the door to her room to find a surprised Kasumi standing on the other side.
"Get out of my way," Akane growled, exuding a dark aura.
Kasumi shook her head and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. Akane was feeling about as hospitable to whatever her sister wanted as a bulldog with a splinter. "Akane," Kasumi murmured. "I know you're worried about Ranko."
"That jerk?" Akane scoffed. She spun on her heel, stalked away to sit on her bed when it became clear that Kasumi had no intention of leaving without a conversation. "I don't care where she slept last night. She can tell me herself when she comes crawling back to me again."
A disappointed frown crossed Kasumi's face. "That's not very kind to Ranko," Kasumi said shortly. "You don't know why she didn't sleep with you last night."
Akane huffed, turning up her nose. "I don't care. I'm not some two-timing good-for-nothing jerk like my stupid fiancee-"
"Ranko slept with me," Kasumi said sharply.
Her angry words died on her tongue.
It had been a long time since Akane had seen Kasumi so on edge. Kasumi walked stiffly across the room, her hands clasped together before her apron, and settled primly down on the messy edge of Akane's bed; there was fire and brimstone in her dark eyes. Akane edged away from her older sister – Nabiki's anger was cold and calculated and ruthless, but at least Nabiki was predictable with her fury and easy enough to talk down. Akane couldn't remember the last time she had seen Kasumi truly angry.
"What?" Akane asked in a faint voice, sitting back against her desk.
Kasumi looked down at her folded hands in her lap, her silent rage directionless and helpless. "I found Ranko on the hallway floor, panicking at one in the morning," Kasumi said. "I don't know why. But she was too scared to wake you up. I managed to coax her into my bed, but I believe that- I believe that if I hadn't, Ranko-chan might have gone and slept outside, or worse. I don't-" Kasumi's voice broke, and she looked away, an astonishing red fury molding her features. "I don't know how to help her," Kasumi said angrily. "She wouldn't tell me what was wrong."
"Kasumi," Akane said, astonished by the hidden anger in her eldest sister.
"I want him gone!" Bursting to her feet, Kasumi began to pace across Akane's room, fuming. "I want that horrid man out of my house! That- that- that panda is nothing but rotten, Akane – rotten to the core!"
Coming from Kasumi's mouth, that was practically an indictment. Akane shifted uncomfortably, all of the wind deflating from her sails, lost when Kasumi stomped across the room and sat down on her bed, suddenly on the verge of tears. Kasumi sniffled, looking away out the window with burning eyes.
"Onee-chan," Akane whispered.
Kasumi's lip wobbled. "He's an abusive piece of shit, Akane," Kasumi whispered. "I thought you, of all people, might understand that."
Shame welled in her chest, and Akane hung her head. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize to me." Kasumi's gaze softened, filling with helpless worry. "What can we do? We can't- We can't let him keep hurting Ranko this way."
Akane swallowed. Kasumi was right, of course; it wasn't like Akane hadn't seen it, it wasn't like she hadn't acknowledged what had been happening under their own roof ever since Genma and Ranko had arrived that summer. The way that Genma Saotome treated his child wasn't right, and they all knew it – and yet, despite it all, nothing had changed. Ranko might have stopped letting her father spar her in the morning, and Genma's brute violence (and wasn't it disturbing, putting all those fights in context) had shifted to an icy cold verbal abuse, but Ranko was no less under her father's thumb than she'd been three months ago, and no closer to open acceptance of her- her natures than ever. And Akane was ready to blame Ranko for her own suffering, again. Was this what her therapist meant? Did Akane really have such little empathy for her own girlfriend, that she wanted to blame Ranko for being affected by her lifelong abuse?
"What can we do?" Akane asked quietly, hopelessly. "Ranko is a minor, Kasumi. If we try to push too hard, then the stupid Panda could just take her away again. You know what happened to Ukyo. As long as Daddy tolerated his presence in our home, what can we do?"
Kasumi clenched her fists. Outside the window, a lone bird fluttered by in the cold December air. "I don't know."
Nabiki
Nabiki Tendo was a suspicious person.
Hell, suspicion was the name of the gig when Nabiki worked with people as shady as some of her clients. One didn't deal with the Yakuza without watching their back all the time. So when Nabiki's instincts started screaming at her, Nabiki took note.
Things were shifting in the Tendo household. Nabiki had heard Akane and Kasumi talking in Akane's room earlier that morning – she hadn't meant to eavesdrop, persay, but given the subject matter, Nabiki hadn't really had a choice not to. The conversation had left all three sisters in a foul mood, because Akane was right; if Genma decided to yank Ranko out of Furikan and whisk her away, there was almost nothing that Nabiki could do to stop him. It wasn't that she hadn't considered the issue – of course Nabiki Tendo had made such an obvious asinine consideration, she'd thought about it for weeks, and it was a source of great frustration for her that she didn't have an answer.
Creating a fake legal identity for Ranko was easy enough. But trying to make Ranko an emancipated minor? That was an entirely different can of worms. No matter how many strings Nabiki pulled, there was no real way that she could get Ranko free from Genma without getting the courts involved; and Nabiki wasn't rock solid on Japanese laws on transsexualism yet, but from what little she had found, she had a sinking suspicion that Ranko would have a rocky time. Because Nabiki had gotten Ranko's name forged in her family registry, a forgery that for all intents and purposes should be rock solid, Ranko could live legally as a cis woman; but if Ranma went to court… And Genma used Ranko's transsexualism as his defense… And god forbid, Ranko's curse were revealed to the government…
They would be lucky to lose without further prosecution, Nabiki thought uneasily. She had already resolved to herself that she would take the fall for her own impulsive actions, but if the law got wind of Ranko's situation – living as a women, partaking in a homosexual relationship, illegally changing her gender on the family registry – Ranko could be just as liable as her to go to jail. Ranko and Akane could both face severe consequences for their relationship, or, worst of all, the government could decide to sterilize Ranko- Nabiki shuddered at the thought, a bleak despair filling her chest at the thought. What had she done? Their one saving grace was that Genma had a criminal history long enough to land him life in prison, which Nabiki could exploit if she needed to; but it would be far easier to drive Genma away from the Tendo household through blackmail and threats than it would be for the man to see any legal consequences for his actions in court. But, if Nabiki was being honest with herself, pursuing a child abuse case for Ranko had never been an option. Even if Ranko didn't have her transsexuality working against her, Genma would sooner flee the country and take Ranko with him than face a single damn consequence for his actions.
No, it was an impossibility. For a matter of Ranko's safety, Nabiki had to keep the government as far away from the Tendo Dojo as physically possible. So that left her with two options: either Nabiki had to come up with some way to make Genma leave their home without Ranko, ideally through some particularly creative form of blackmail, or Ranko would simply have to endure three and a half more years of her father's cruelties until she gained her majority at age twenty.
Neither option seemed ideal, but the second was completely untenable.
Nabiki brooded at the breakfast table, kicking herself for pulling the family registry trigger too soon; it would have needed to happen eventually, certainly, and Genma didn't know about the change yet, but Nabiki hated that her own haste to forge Ranko a proper identity – which was, in retrospect, an emotional decision fueled by her desire to make things right with her newfound little sister – had potentially placed Ranko in an even more unstable position legally.
Across the table, Genma was pouring over a book of Chinese characters, which was strange, a small pair of glasses balanced on his nose. Nabiki watched Genma suspiciously. What could possibly be possessing the man to learn to read Chinese now? Nabiki wasn't sure, but she didn't like it one bit. At the other end of the table, Ranko sat in a little ball in front of her breakfast, which was nearly untouched, her eyes glazed over like the icy pond outside. It was tense at the table, too, and Nabiki wanted nothing more than to kick the panda to the curb and force Ranko to eat a real meal. But as things stood, Nabiki could do nothing but brood.
"The hell d'ya think you're reading that for anyway, old man?" Ranko scoffed, as though registering for the first time that Genma had a book before him.
Genma glanced up at his daughter, and for a brief moment, there was nothing but cold malice in his eyes, a lecherous judgment that bit through Ranko like a physical force. Ranko's brashness instantly receded; Ranko glanced back down at her uneaten food, her fighting spirit silenced. Dangerous, Nabiki thought in alarm, her heart racing. He's not just cruel, he's dangerous.
"Don't you know, boy," Genma simpered, glancing over at Soun, who was steadfastly ignoring the happenings of breakfast, pouring over his shogi board with his fingers stroking his beard. "Martial Arts Language Acquisition is a noble and ancient martial art, known only to the great ancient masters-"
Three months ago, Ranko might have jumped at the implicit challenge. Now, Ranko only rolled her eyes. "Aw, jeez, lay off it, would ya?" Ranko snapped, an unusual caged anger brewing in her submissive gaze. "Martial Arts Language Acquisition my ass. Maybe ya could have mastered that one before we went to China."
Genma blinked as though the possibility had never occurred to him. "I suppose that would have made sense," he mused.
"Yeah, you think?" Ranko said bitterly. Nabiki watched the conversation like a tennis match, wide awake at the sudden shift in Ranko and Genma's dynamic. What had happened last night? "Maybe you'd've thought twice about taking me to Jusenkyo if you'd read the damn pamphlet. Stupid panda."
Huffing at her insolent tone, Genma leveled Ranko a flat look. Ranko froze.
"Yes," Genma said quietly, his voice running like a river rushing to sea, deathly serious. "I would have."
Genma went back to reading his book. Ranko went back to staring blankly at her breakfast, not quite able to hide the tremble in her hands. Nabiki sat silently between them and did her best not to scream her frustration to the world.
They needed to get Genma out of the Tendo Dojo and away from Ranko, stat. Pronto. Last month, or preferably from the beginning of Ranko's life.
But how?
Nabiki scoured her brain for something, anything she could do to get Ranko out from under Genma's thumb, save hiring a hitman to assassinate the man (a possibility that grew more appealing every day). There had to be something. And then, like an epiphany, Nabiki knew exactly what it would take to free Ranko and get Genma Saotome out of her life.
When she had gone about forging the paperwork for Ranko, Nabiki had deliberately avoided looking into Nodoka Saotome out of respect for Ranko. Nabiki wouldn't make the mistake of taking such life altering action in Ranko's life without Ranko's consent again. But maybe, just maybe… It wouldn't hurt to send out a few feelers, take the temperature… and figure out just how Nodoka Saotome felt on the issue of transsexuality.
If nothing came of it, then Nabiki would go back to Plan A, which was to blackmail the living hell out of Genma. No harm, no fowl. But just maybe…
Maybe Ranko Saotome still had a chance to have a loving parent in her life.
[A/N] I'm back!
Well, really I had the most garbage six months of my life, which is I suppose what losing a parent will do to you… I won't restate it here, but if you've been following me for a while you probably know exactly how young I am, so you should know how much that especially sucks. Moving forward is hard, but hopefully 2023 will be less shitty than 2022.
Anyways, perhaps unsurprisingly, it's pretty hard to find accurate information about Japanese law around trans issues before the 21st century? Like Japan created Gender Identity Disorder as a legal construct in the late nineties, and passed a big (problematic) law on trans people in 2003, but there's very little on the Western internet about trans law in Japan before that. There's some stuff about trans rights during the AIDS crisis, but since this story is set in the amorphous space from like 1978-1982, that's before Japan's big boom and opening to the West. What I did find is a very nasty history of forced sterilization, which is what Nabiki references in the last scene here, and a general cultural consensus of transphobia at the time – legal transition was completely illegal before 2003, but I'm not quite sure if there were no laws around transness, or if the laws were actually actively discriminatory. In short, I would probably need a legal degree and a considerably larger amount of research to make sense of it, probably the ability to speak Japanese too, so I hope the inferences I draw here aren't too far of the mark. If anyone has specific knowledge about any of that (you guys always surprise me with the most random bits of knowledge) please leave a comment to let us all know :D
I know the tone of the story is a little dark right now; I promise it won't last, but I would say that there are somewhere between two and four chapters left before things start to lighten up a bit. We're very close to the emotional low point of the story – but nobody can keep Ranko Saotome down for long! Hopefully moving forward I can do better than two chapters a year too lmao.
Also I finished my third draft of my book! And I've gotten another big project off the ground, and that's gone great too :). I've finally finished my pivot from fanfic to original fiction – in 2020 I was writing 2/3rds fanfic, 1/3 original, and now I'm writing 9/10 original, 1/10 fanfic, which makes me much happier; I'm gonna write draft four in the spring, and then my 2023 goal is to try querying for the first time! Super exciting. And I'm really happy with how much I've grown as a writer over the last few years.
Thank you to FaithfulHealer, DianaBialaska, NobleHeroine, irisvirus, ayellowbirds, JaquiK, DaphneDi, Lukkai, Therandompers, LittleLunita, lexcia, SilkySelkie, Sub_Rosa, Supervivens, Beedok, Foxy Engineer, 5th Dimension, ClassicalGal (which eeeeeeeeeeee Genma's Daughter is literally my FAVORITE aaaaahhhh I LOVE YOU SO MUCH), schwartzy, Muminpappan, Tac Elf, and Chelsea2valve for commenting and reviewing! Y'all know how much your feedback means to me. I've been writing this story for six years now and I remember back when any feedback was like dopamine heaven to me – the fact that now all of the authors in this fandom that I read read my work too is so cool, you guys. Makes me feel like a celebrity. I mean, what's next, is Ozzallos or Innortal gonna come drop me a review? I think I would actually faint lol.
Okay wait all you fandom newbies or people who have only read on Archives of Our Own, you have to go and read Genma's Daughter and all its wonderful sequels by ClassicalGal if you like trans!Ranma. It's more of a "Actually a Girl" premise, but they're still phenomenal and have very trans vibes. They're on Fanfiction dot net, and they're the absolute best. I also highly recommend Happily Married by Kirinin, which is fabulous.
I love you all, I'll try to get the next chapter out before next summer.
Cheers, Allie