17

I don't know what you want out of this time with me (but please be sweet)

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

The black rotary phone which sat at the foot of the stairs on a small cabinet had not rung for a long time, but suddenly it's trilling, nostalgic chime could be heard loud and clear from throughout the household.

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Most of the rooms were unoccupied, however, and had been for many years. There was nobody around to hear the phone ringing, nobody to pull the receiver up off of the lever and cease the noise. Nobody, save for one.

Through the intermittent ringing of the phone came the sounds of the TV from the washitsu, currently in the middle of a commercial break from whatever programme had been playing. And between the chatter about skincare products and the latest car models, there was snoring.

Ranma lay slumped over at the kotatsu, fast asleep.

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Chriiii-iiiiiing!

Suddenly, Ranma awoke with a loud snort and jolted upright, the sound of the phone finally reaching his ears. In his sudden movement his arms swept across the table top, sending about five empty cans scattering to the tatami, joining the dozen or so others that littered the floor already.

Uncaring of the mess, Ranma blearily pulled himself to his feet and stumbled unsteadily out of the room and down the hall towards the shrill ringing that was quickly fixing to give him even more of a headache than what he could already feel forming.

Scrubbing the sleep crust from the inner corners of his eyes with the pad of his thumb and forefinger, Ranma snatched the phone up roughly with his other hand and brought the receiver up to his ear.

"…What?"Ranma groused, voice croaky and thick.

There was no response for a beat on the other end of the line, the only sound Ranma could make out was someone's ragged breath that was making the line turn to static.

"…Ranma, i-it's me. It's Ryoga."

Ranma's eyes slowly dragged open, staring at the blank wall in front of him, and he said nothing in response. There was more rough breathing on the other end, and then one large, steadying intake of air before Ryoga spoke again.

"Pl-please don't hang up,"Ryoga begged, voice cracking with emotion, "I…I wouldn't bother you like this i-if it w-wasn't i-important…"

Ranma continued to stay silent, as Ryoga's rapid breathing grew even more distressed as he spoke, until he was hiccuping on nearly every other word.

"…A-are you there?"

Ranma rubbed at his brow bone with the heel of his palm, as though he could massage out the stabbing pain that was radiating out from the middle of his forehead.

"…Yeah," Ranma muttered, "I'm here."

"I…I need your help,"Ryoga said urgently, "I-It's Shirokuro. Something…something is wrong with her."

"So take her to the vet." Ranma said bluntly.

"I…I…can't,"Ryoga forced out, "I…I don't kn-know…how…I w-won't be able to find it on my own, a-and—and she—sh-she—"

Ranma closed his eyes as a loud sob broke out of Ryoga, causing the line to break up again.

"Ryoga…" Ranma began, voice flat.

"Sh-she's throwing up, she's—she's not eating—sh—she—th-there's blood, I don't—I don't know what to do, I c-can't, I can't—!"

"Ryoga," Ranma said again, a little bit louder and firmer, but Ryoga's panic only continued to build.

"I j-just need help to g-get her t-to the vet. Pl-please, Ranma, I-I w-wouldn't be doing this i-if it—"

"Ryoga." Ranma repeated, as loud as he could manage without it feeling like it would crack his skull in two. His brow still furrowed in pain as his eardrums felt like they were rattling from the rise in volume, even though he was still hardly speaking in even an inside voice.

Regardless, it had been effective enough to get Ryoga to stop his panicked tirade. All Ranma could hear were some soft sniffles.

"It's fine," Ranma said, "I'll be there in a bit."

And then he hung up the phone before Ryoga got a chance to respond.


Ryoga wouldn't be surprised if there would be a permanent imprint in the carpet from how much he had been pacing the floor.

Poor Shirokuro watched on from her dog bed as Ryoga moved back and forth in an anxious lap around the living room.

It had been over an hour since he had called Ranma. Obviously he couldn't exactly comprehend the actual distance from his house to the Tendo Dojo, but it shouldn't be taking this long, right? Ranma should have been here by now!

He hadnotsounded good over the phone, and that was only adding to Ryoga's already frazzled mental state. There was something about Ranma's voice that had just seemed…off. Which was saying something, considering ever since Ryoga had gotten back, Ranma usually maintained a voice that was fairly monotone and completely unlike how he used to sound when they were younger. But what had used to sound flat and jaded now seemed…hollow.

Beneath the constant anxious hum in Ryoga's brain for concern for his dear canine companion, there was a thick tar coating his innards and turning them sour. Guilt ate away at him like a flesh-eating miasma swallowing him whole.

Buried beyond that wallowing shame and guilt was also anger, pale in comparison to what he was accustomed to, dull and grey and drowned out by every other emotion. He had tried several times to grasp at that feeling, try and hone in on it more than the others. But it had only continued to evade him no matter what he did.

Logically, Ryoga knew that anger wouldn't be helpful to him right now. He needed Ranma's help, and showing him hostility certainly wouldn't get him that.

More infuriating was the fact that the same logical reasoning was also constantly reminding him that what little anger he felt wasn't really anger at all.

He was just hurt. And when he was younger, he would latch onto rage when his heart was aching. Back then, he would have just cursed Ranma's name and vowed to make Ranma feel the same anguish that he did.

It would all be so much easier if he could just hate him.

Ryoga's pacing came to a sudden stop as he heard a distant rustling from the front door. Even the weary Shirokuro's ears had perked up slightly in intrigue. Ryoga headed out to the foyer and looked in surprise as the front door opened. He could have sworn he had locked it.

In walked Ranma, wearing his usual combo of borrowed clothes from Akane's boy wardrobe of a dark hoodie with the loud colour-block windbreaker. He usually paired this look with some jeans, but today he was wearing some grey sweatpants that Ryoga knew Ranma to pretty much live in around the Tendo Dojo, but didn't typically wear while out in public.

In Ranma's hand was a set of keys, and it was then Ryoga recalled having given Ranma a key to his house several years ago. After all this time, Ranma had kept it. There was some kind of keychain adorned to it, which reminded Ryoga of one of those soot sprites from the Ghibli movie he had watched with the twins several weeks ago.

Held in Ranma's other hand was a small, brightly-coloured can which Ryoga initially assumed to be a soft drink of some kind. But when Ranma brought it to his lips after closing the front door behind him, Ryoga recognized the branding as Strong Zero.

Ryoga found himself rooted in place, and his tongue heavy in his mouth. He did not move as Ranma toed off his sneakers and walked over to him. He couldn't get his mouth to move and form any kind of greeting, but it seemed that Ranma wasn't about to give him one, either. He didn't even give Ryoga a glance as he walked past and headed into the living room, where Shirokuro still lay curled up on her dog bed.

When Ryoga got his feet working again and followed Ranma back into the living room, he found him squatting next to Shirokuro. She was looking up at him, her head still resting on her front paws, but her large bushy tail was gently thumping against the edge of her dog bed. Ranma murmured something, but it was so low Ryoga couldn't make it out.

Then, for the first time, Ranma looked up and met Ryoga's gaze.

"Can she walk?" he asked.

His eyes were as hollow as his voice, Ryoga thought. They were also rimmed with a tinge of red, but not in a way that looked like he'd just been crying. Not like how Ryoga's own eyes surely looked at the moment.

There was a thin glaze that seemed to dull the colour of Ranma's irises, turning them into something more like murky grey than their usual blue.

"She's a bit weak, but yes, she can." Ryoga replied, "I can carry her if she gets too tired."

Ranma looked back at Shirokuro, watching her for a long beat and then taking another swig of his cherry-flavoured chuhai. He gave Shirokuro a rub atop the head, and then pushed himself to his feet.

"Okay, pooch," Ranma said, and then he clicked his tongue, "C'mon, up ya get."

Shirokuro got to her feet and then stretched out her back and hind legs before stepping off of her dog bed. She looked up at Ranma, her tail slowly swishing in the air.

Ryoga tried not to take it too personally that his pet was wagging her tail more for Ranma than she had for him.

Finding himself once again with a body that refused to move, Ryoga watched on as Ranma walked back out to the foyer, with Shirokuro at his heels. Catching up to them, Ryoga saw Ranma go over to the peg on the wall and gather up Shirokuro's collar and leash, briefly setting down his Strong Zero can in order to affix the collar to Shirokuro's neck.

Ranma mumbled something else to Shirokuro while he was squatting down clicking the leash onto the collar, once again in a voice so low it was for Shirokuro's ears only.

Ryoga had been fretting about this encounter for a myriad of reasons. He had wondered if that dull anger he felt would bubble up to the surface and explode once he saw Ranma's face. He wondered if he would break down into blubbering hysterics again like he had embarrassingly done so over the phone earlier. He had come up with so many variables, had rehearsed so many speeches and greetings, had tried his best to mentally prepare for whatever outcome would occur once Ranma showed up on his doorstep.

But he had not accounted for feeling like a third wheel. He had not anticipated forthatof all things to be what his stupid brain decided to latch on to.

He would have preferred the blubbering hysterics route. Even that would feel less shameful than getting jealous over the strange little bond that Ranma and his pet seemed to mysteriously share.

Ryoga couldn't even find it in himself to find any annoyance for Ranma's blatant drinking. He was clearly doing it to prove a point, to perhaps try and get a rise out of Ryoga. But Ryoga didn't feel bitter about any of that.

He'd had no right to comment on Ranma's drinking before. Even with all he had seen Ranma drink in his time staying with him, he'd never seen Ranma like this, his hair limp and unwashed, eyes watery and bleak, skin pallid.

Ryoga had always thought it strange that for all he had seen Ranma drink, he had never really seemed all that drunk; not in his appearance or his actions, at least. He would usually coast on several beers throughout the day without slamming them back one after the other in quick succession. It had been subtle enough that it had taken several days of living under the same roof for Ryoga to even start to call it into question, for it to start pinging an alarm in his mind that the amount was concerning.

Ranma had essentially told Ryoga back then that Ryoga hadn't seen anything yet. He had thought the kind of drinking Ranma had been doing up until then had been enough for Ryoga to intervene and tell Ranma to ease up, but he had been an idiot.

The worst part was knowing that even what he was seeing now was still surely not as bad as it could get. Or perhaps as bad as it had been in the days Ryoga had not been present to witness it.

And it was all Ryoga's fault, so he couldn't even say a damn thing about it.


The walk to the vet was cold and quiet.

It was a bitterly chilly afternoon, and Ryoga's exposed hand holding onto Shirokuro's leash was red and numb.

Ranma finished off his can of Strong Zero and deposited it in the next trash bin they came across during their journey. When they arrived at the train station, Ranma helped himself to some more at one of the vending machines as they waited for the next train to arrive.

After just a few stops on the train, and another fifteen-or-so minutes of walking, they arrived at the veterinarian clinic. Ryoga paused outside the main entrance, and looked at Ranma.

"They probably won't let you drink that in there," Ryoga said, nodding towards the can currently being brought back up to Ranma's lips.

Ranma watched Ryoga over the rim of his can as he finished his sip. When he lowered the can, he said nothing in response, and his expression maintained its usual neutral, unreadable stoniness.

"Either finish what you've got left or toss it," Ryoga told him, "Otherwise, wait out here."

Without waiting to see what decision Ranma would make, Ryoga headed inside, eager to get his dear pet some help. The front counter was thankfully in direct line of sight from the entrance, so Ryoga was able to make it there without any concern.

He introduced himself and Shirokuro, explaining her recent symptoms.

"Is she up to date on her vaccinations?" the receptionist asked, "It doesn't look like we have a record for her here. Were you taking her to another clinic?"

Ryoga paled. He wasn't sure if his parents hadeverbrought Shirokuro to a vet before. "Um, I'm not sure, honestly."

"Well, it might be best to get her the basics, if she's never had anything. Rabies, distemper, that kind of thing. We can complete those along with her check-up today."

Ryoga nodded along, holding back a wince. That was likely all going to add up the bill, which was going to come out of Ranma's wallet, since Ryoga still had no money. "Yes, that's fine, whatever she needs."

"We'll take good care of Shirokuro. We can take her back right now and run some tests, if you'd like to take a seat? We'll call you back once we've completed her examinations."

"Yes. Okay. Thank you."

Ryoga bowed gratefully to the receptionist and the vet assistant who came to collect Shirokuro, who was led into the back room. With no choice but to wait, Ryoga lowered himself down into a chair in the small waiting area, his knee already jittering anxiously.

He wished that Ranma had come in with him. Even if he was honestly pretty shitty company at the moment, it still would have been nice to havesomeoneto wait with him. Ryoga leaned back in his chair, staring with eyes that still ached slightly from crying and sleep deprivation up at the bright fluorescent lights in the ceiling above.

Just then, there was a digital ping from the sliding doors at the entrance to the clinic, and in walked Ranma, who ignored the receptionist altogether and headed right into the waiting room. He no longer had the can of booze he'd purchased at the train station, Ryoga noticed. Whether he had decided to throw the rest of it out or finish it off, Ryoga didn't know (though it was more likely the latter).

Ranma plopped down heavily into the seat next to Ryoga without a word of acknowledgement, his hands stuffed into the front pocket of his hoodie. He grimaced hatefully up at the glaring white fluorescent ceiling lights, sinking low in his seat and closing his eyes.

Less than three minutes later, Ranma was asleep, and snoring. Loud enough that the receptionist was peeking over at the waiting area periodically. Ryoga offered her a sheepish smile on one of the occasions where their gaze met.

He was thankful that they were the only ones in the waiting room. And that his legs were no longer shaking.

After around twenty minutes, Ryoga's name was called, and he left Ranma to his noisy nap in the waiting room chair to go back to the front desk.

"I can bring you to the back to speak with the veterinarian," the vet assistant explained. She looked over Ryoga's shoulder for a moment before saying, "Would your friend like to join you?"

"No, that's alright," Ryoga said. He spared another sympathetic glance at the receptionist, however. "You're welcome to muzzle him while I'm gone."

The receptionist let out a shocked giggle, her hand flying up to her mouth to suppress the noise, a kindness given to the one sleeping in the waiting room that Ranma himself was not returning, this inconsideration punctuated by another loud snore.

The vet assistant led Ryoga into one of the exam rooms, where the vet was waiting with Shirokuro, who was sitting atop the exam table. Her tail was swishing lazily back and forth, but quickened slightly when Ryoga entered the room.

So she can still wag for me, after all. That's a good sign."I hope you were well behaved for the doctor, Shirokuro."

The vet smiled warmly at Ryoga. "She was perfect. You have a very sweet and smart dog, Mr. Hibiki."

Ryoga scratched Shirokuro on the back of the ear as he gave the vet a small smile in return, anxiousness still licking at the edges of his features. "Is she alright? Is she pregnant again?"

The vet blinked slightly in surprise. "No, she's not pregnant."

Ryoga's eyes widened. "She's not? But I could have sworn…well, then, what's going on with her?"

"Shirokuro appears to be in good health for the most part, but she does have a urinary tract infection," the vet explained calmly, "It's fairly common for older dogs, and easy for us to treat, as well. She'll need to be put on a short round of antibiotics, and should be back to normal within a week."

The vet picked up a bottle of pills from the counter at the back of the room and brought them to Ryoga. "Typically UTIs can clear up on their own without medication, but considering her other symptoms and her age, it's good you brought her in to us."

Ryoga stared down at the bottle in his hand, then looked back up at the veterinarian. "What would have caused it? Was it something I did?"

The vet shook his head. "It wouldn't have been anything you did, no. It's usually caused by faecal matter or similar bacteria coming into contact with the urethra. As I said, it's fairly common, especially with female dogs. Sometimes when they get older, they find it more difficult to keep up proper hygiene. With her long coat, it may be a good idea to give her routine grooms to help her keep clean. A trim around the sanitary area that can help keep faeces and urine from getting stuck in her hair."

Ryoga nodded along in understanding. "Yes, of course. I'm just glad it wasn't something more serious."

"She's clearly well-loved, and quite the lover herself. Tail wouldn't stop wagging even while she got her shots."

"What a brave girl," Ryoga cooed, and Shirokuro's tail sped up.

"She's a tough one. I'm sure she'll make a quick recovery. Just keep her hydrated and comfortable, and give her the antibiotics every morning with her food. Any issues or questions, don't hesitate to call."

"Thank you so much!" Ryoga said gratefully, "Tell the nice doctor 'thank you', Shirokuro."

Shirokuro let out a politeboof, and the vet laughed.

The vet led Ryoga and Shirokuro back out to the entrance, where Ryoga's bill was no doubt in the works of being tallied up by the receptionist.

"How would you like to pay today?" The receptionist asked.

"Uh, just a moment, please." Ryoga said quickly.

He went into the waiting room where Ranma was still dozing in the chair. He shook Ranma's shoulder slightly, but that didn't seem to phase him at all.

"Hey," Ryoga said, "wake up."

Ranma continued to snore.

Ryoga rolled his eyes, and then reeled back his foot and delivered a swift kick to one of the legs of the chair Ranma sat in.

"Oy." Ryoga said brusquely.

Ranma's head just lolled to the side and he continued to sleep.

Ryoga let out an agitated sigh. Then he reached over and scrubbed his hand through Ranma's hair, ruffling it roughly.

Ranma's snoring was cut out with a grumble and a snort and suddenly Ranma bolted awake, looking around in confusion before shooting a dirty look at Ryoga. Though it was hard to take it all that seriously when his hair was sticking up in multiple directions.

"Shirokuro is done," Ryoga said, "I have to pay her bill."

Ranma scrubbed a hand through his now-even-messier hair as he dragged himself to his feet. "Yeah, yeah…"

Letting out a long yawn, Ranma approached the front desk and pulled out his wallet from the pocket of his jacket. "A'right, gimme the damage."

The receptionist handed Ranma the bill, and Ranma looked over the charges before pulling yen notes and counting them out on the counter. Some of the notes were fairly well worn, faded and weathered around the edges with deep creases. After collecting his change, Ranma turned and walked out of the clinic, leaving Ryoga to quickly gather up Shirokuro's leash, thank the receptionist and wish her a good rest of her day before hurrying back outside. Ranma was lingering just outside the front doors, waiting for him.

"I'll pay you back when I can." Ryoga said.

"I did it for her, not you." Ranma said, "So, what's up with her?"

"A urinary tract infection," Ryoga explained, "She just needs to take some antibiotics for the next week, and it should clear up."

"Oof. Those are a bitch." Ranma looked down at Shirokuro. "No pun intended, eh, girl?"

Shirokuroawoo'd. Ryoga wished she wouldn't encourage him.

"Alright, let's get her home so she can have her first dose of meds." Ryoga said. The sooner Shirokuro was feeling better, then the sooner he would, too.

They headed off back to the train station. This time, Ranma didn't purchase a new drink from the vending machine there, nor one from the station they got off at, either. Before long they were back at Ryoga's house, back out of the cold. Ryoga made quick work of getting Shirokuro her first round of antibiotics, slipping the pill into a glob of peanut butter she was more than happy to lap off of his finger. Ranma had followed them into the kitchen, but hung back by the doorway, hands still stuffed into the front pocket of his hoodie.

"You haven't turned over the calendar." Ranma said.

Ryoga looked over to the wall that held the calendar, which sure enough was still set to show November. Ryoga stepped over and flipped up the page to December.

"Hey."

Ryoga looked over his shoulder, and jumped in surprise to see something flying at him. His instincts weren't quite as sharp as they used to be, but Ryoga still managed to whirl around and catch the incoming object before it could hit him. Something plastic crinkled between his fingers.

Ryoga looked down at what he had caught, blinking curiously at the wrapping. It was a bun wrapped in clear plastic wrap, and labelled with a sticker.

"…A red bean bun?" Ryoga mumbled, reading out the sticker.

And then, it clicked.

Ryoga looked up at Ranma, then back over to the calendar, then back to the bun, then back to Ranma.

"It's December 4th." Ryoga said softly.

"Yep." Ranma said.

"It's my birthday," Ryoga said, awed. He looked back at the red bean bun.

He had been so caught up in his worry over Shirokuro, it had entirely slipped his mind that today was his birthday.

He had completely forgotten. But Ranma had remembered. And not only that, he had gotten Ryoga the very same thing he had gotten him the very first birthday that he had known him, although Ryoga hadn't known it to be a present at the time.

It was the only one I let you have, remember? When it was your birthday.

Wait a minute, youletme have it?

Well, duh. How else did you think you managed to get it?

Ryoga looked back at Ranma. Even after all the horrible things Ranma had said to him the other day, he was still giving Ryoga a present for his birthday?

Or was itbecausehe had said those awful things? Was this less of a birthday gift, and more of an apology? One that provided Ranma a way to not have to utter the words, which were harder for him to say than the cruelty that had fallen from his mouth so easily just days before.

Ryoga would be fooling himself to hold out on hope of receiving any kind of verbal apology from Ranma. But, now that the thought crossed his mind, he had gotten one from him, the very same night he had walked out.

Sorry for taking off like that.

Ryoga had been caught so off guard by it at the time, the fact that Ranma had apologised at all in that moment had entirely left Ryoga's mind. And Ryoga had apologised then, too, for always pushing things onto Ranma. But then, practically in the same breath, he had shoved his foot into his mouth.

But, Ranma…you're not happy.

Ryoga could still recall how Ranma's expression had gone instantly cold at those words, and the words that followed it were equally chilling.

Of course not. My wife died, what'd you expect?

They had both messed up that night. Perhaps Ryoga's words weren't as cold and callous as Ranma's had been, but they had still been ignorant, and had caused Ranma to lash out the way he had in the first place.

Ryoga looked Ranma over, from his messy and unwashed hair to his hazy eyes rimmed with red and bagged with shadows. What cruelty Ranma had given Ryoga with his words, Ryoga had returned with his response to them by leaving Ranma when he was so clearly in a fragile state, made even worse by Ryoga's absence.

"Shirokuro needs to be given these antibiotics for the next week," Ryoga said, "But I…I want to come back to the dojo."

Ranma said nothing to that, but raised an eyebrow slightly.

"It doesn't seem like either of my parents are going to make it home anytime soon, and…and I, um…well, I was making some decent progress with my training, so…" Ryoga trailed off for a moment, rubbing at his neck awkwardly. After a moment he steeled himself and forced the rest out. "So I'd like to bring Shirokuro with me, if that's alright."

Ranma looked to be mulling it over, his mouth puckering slightly as he looked from Ryoga to Shirokuro. After a few moments, he waved a hand through the air as he turned on his heel and left the kitchen. "Do what you want."

Ryoga stood rooted to the floor for a moment, as Ranma's words echoed through his mind. The same four words he had said when Ryoga told him he was leaving. And it is only in hearing them again that yet another realisation dropped onto Ryoga like a pile of bricks.

Ranma had never told him to leave.

Despite all the venomous words he had spat at Ryoga that night, he had never told Ryoga to get out of his house. Perhaps such a thing would be simply implied, if it weren't for those four words. If Ranma had really wanted him to leave, then when Ryoga had said he was going to, he might have said something more like 'well what are you waiting for'or 'it's about time'. But instead, Ranma had said 'do what you want'.

He had never told Ryoga to leave.

Perhaps it had been a test. Ranma had tried to send him away, to upset him enough that Ryoga would choose to leave of his own accord. And it worked. If it had truly been a test of Ryoga's endurance, then he had failed.

He had already felt guilty about leaving since the moment he set foot out the door that night. And he thought of nothing since he had left than about turning around and coming back.

You never should have left.

It was not his own consciousness that berated him, but yet again Ranma's voice conjured within his mind, reminding Ryoga of their talk in the furo from several weeks ago. Ranma had been talking about Ryoga leaving for China then, but there was a double-meaning to the words now.

He never should have left.

Even if Ranma had told him to, no matter what Ranma had tried to do to get him to leave, he should have never given in.

But perhaps it had never been a test. It might have just been that Ranma had said something terrible in the heat of the moment, and regretted it. Why else would he come to Ryoga's aid today to get Shirokuro to the vet? Why else would he not only remember that today was Ryoga's birthday when even Ryoga himself had forgotten, but also think to get him a present? And not just some random thing, but something thoughtful, a reminder of their past. A past which Ranma so often refused to linger on, which he deemed better left buried along with his old self and his late wife.

Maybe, just maybe, Ranma actually wanted Ryoga around. And despite all of his screw-ups up until now, he really was helping Ranma get better, little by little.

Perhaps that was all just wishful thinking, a fruitless hope that Ryoga had no choice but to learn when he had been stranded for all of those years. By now it was an old habit, and those were notoriously hard to kill. But Ryoga didn't want to snuff out that hope, as meagre and foolhardy as it might be. Hope had kept him alive and eventually gotten him home. It had taken six years, but it had happened.

He couldn't expect Ranma's healing to happen overnight, or to be remotely linear. He had learned during those weeks sharing his space that Ranma went through good and bad days, and perhaps that was regardless of Ryoga's presence. But Ryoga had to hope that maybe there were a few more good days with him around than there were before. And even if it took ten years, Ryoga wanted to see it through, to ensure there were no more bad days for either of them.

They had both had enough to last a lifetime.