Genma Saotome spent the last hours of his day in contemplative silence. For the first time in years, he’d worked an honest job and enjoyed himself! While Dr. Tofu and Katsumi handled the chiropractic and administrative elements of Tofu’s clinic, Genma mostly acted as an office assistant, secretary, and aid.

  They were impressed with his knowledge of triage and field medicine, and consulted him on ways to make the office more efficient, but it would have been improper for him to actually treat any patients. That was fine, he still got paid, and it felt good.

  Then there was his son. Ranma was his pride, his joy, and the most important part of Genma’s life. And he was troubled. Thirteen years he’d raised the boy alone, so he knew what to look out for. The fact that this was the third night in a row he got into a fight with the Tendo boy bothered Genma, it signaled he was having difficulties fitting in.

  He also knew when Ranma blustered to hide his true feelings. The boy liked to cook, he never made a secret of it around Genma, so it was confusing that he would hide behind his family “honor” in front of the Tendos, especially considering how supportive they all were.

  Not for the first time, Genma wondered if staying here was a good idea. He didn’t have any alternatives lined up, but they’d been wandering for two years already and could make do until an opportunity presented itself. Ranma just seemed to have trouble around boys his age, and bringing him to a household with three didn’t seem to be working.

  As they were getting ready for bed in the guest room, he figured he had to address it. “Close the door, son, we need to talk.”

  Ranma, who had just walked in, loudly groaned and angrily shut the door. “Whaaaaaat?”

  “Mrs. Tendo said you and Akio were fighting again, and judging by the bruise on your stomach,” Genma poked to make his point, which made Ranma wince. “It wasn’t friendly sparring. Why don’t you tell me what that was about?”

  Ranma rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, but guiltily hung his head as well. “We already talked about it and we’re good, ain’t that enough?”

  “No, because you and I haven’t talked about it. If you’re having trouble getting along with our hosts I need to know so we can find somewhere else—” Ranma’s panicked yell shocked Genma.

  “What!? No, I don’t wanna leave!” Whatever composure he had was gone in an instant at the idea of moving and Ranma’s plea almost turned into a bow as he threw his hands on the floor in front of him.

  “Okay, then what’s the problem? I’m not trying to punish you, son, I’m worried .” He put a reassuring hand on Ranma’s arm. “I want to know how I can help.”

  For a moment, he thought Ranma would actually open up, the way his eyes shimmered. But that defensive attitude snapped back up before he could press further.

  “You could start by layin’ off, old man. Akio ‘n me are just…figurin’ each other out, okay?” He sniffed and looked out the window, once again crossing his arms. “I really get along with Naoki and Katsumi is actually okay when he’s not bein’ a jerk, Akio’s just…”

  By this point, Genma was aware of the chemistry his son had with the youngest Tendo boy. There was some sort of connection, maybe even an attraction, so it wasn’t wholly surprising the way Ranma trailed off and started blushing. The last thing Genma wanted to do was call attention to that though and risk setting Ranma off.

  “We’re too alike, yeah? Same age, martial artists, carryin’ on the legacy of our dads and stuff.” Then he chuckled, which set Genma’s soul at ease. “Can you imagine if he’d been a girl? Maybe we coulda actually got engaged or whatever like you and your friend wanted. Martial artist wife would be pretty cool.”

  Genma guffawed and realized he’d been right on the money. Clearly his son was dealing with an attraction he didn’t know how to handle, just like with that friend of his a couple years ago, and that girl he liked when he was 6.

  The problem was that Genma had no idea how to broach that topic with him. He didn’t have any issues with his son being attracted to another boy, but having that discussion about girls a few years ago was hard enough. He couldn’t talk to Hana about it either, since it involved one of her sons.

  Maybe Dr. Tofu could give him some advice tomorrow.

  “That makes sense, I suppose. And I’m glad to hear you already talked to him. Sparring is fine: in fact, since I’m gonna be working, I think it’s great that you have a new training partner. But you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

  Ranma probably wouldn’t want to talk about anything more tonight, but he had to make sure that was out there.

  “Sure thing, pops. Thanks.” Genma almost started crying at the sight of the first unguarded smile he saw on his son’s face in years but kept his composure.

  “No worries. Good night.”

  It was bittersweet, how the lack of a Horde of challengers reminded Akio that his freshman year of high school was almost over and he was only just now able to experience a normal morning. The bruises from last night’s fight against Ranma reminded him that it was probably for the best that he wasn’t fighting anyone today though.

  There were, however, a couple boys waiting for him. One with straight, black hair, parted in the middle, Shingo, and one with shaggy brown hair, slightly taller, Kiichi. They were two of Akio’s closest friends in junior high, and tried to stay friends with him at the beginning of the year but were understandably scared away by Kodachi’s escalating antics.

  “Hey man! Congrats on freedom!” Shingo yelled as he went for a high five.

  “And congrats on landing a babe!” Kiichi followed up, which made Akio scowl. He didn’t land Ranma, he just…well okay, landed wasn’t the worst way to describe the Saotomes arriving at their doorstep three days ago, but he knew what Kiichi meant by that.

  “Hey guys, good to see you again,” he said, going for the high five. “Ranma isn’t…I didn’t land her, the whole engagement thing is overblown. It’s mostly an excuse to unite our families’ martial arts schools.”

  He couldn’t deny the engagement, but he’d do whatever he could to downplay it. His friends wouldn’t give him much to work with, however.

  “C’mon man, you don’t have to lie to us,” Kiichi needled him as they walked into school. “Everybody knows you liked Kodachi ‘til she got all crazy, it can’t be coincidence you got another brawler chick comin’ after you.”

  That bothered Akio more than he could admit. Ranma definitely didn’t like him, not after all the fights they’d gotten into, and just because he was cute — as a girl, of course — didn’t mean that Akio liked him.

  “I didn’t even know she existed before Sunday, you guys, we barely know each other.” Akio deposited his shoes in his locker and casually strode to his first class, which he didn’t share with the two knuckleheads shadowing him.

  “She lucked out gettin’ you in the engagement then, didn’t she?” Akio wanted to knock the smirk off Shingo’s face. “Did you guys draw straws or something?”

  “It wasn’t random, I was the obvious choice and she picked me!” Too late Akio realized his mistake as he opened his classroom door. For one, that was a lie, Naoki more-or-less took the decision away from Ranma and Akio when he “leaked” the engagement to Kodachi. But more importantly, not only had he just told his dumb friends that Ranma wanted to be his fiancée, but Hiroko and Asami, who were already in their seats, absolutely just heard him proudly declare it.

  Naoki would be furious, but he was already wincing at the pain Ranma was gonna inflict on him once she found out.

  “Oh that’s great! She knows you better than you think, then, you’re a catch, dude!” Kiichi’s sincerity did little to distract Akio from the heat in his cheeks or the pit in his stomach.

  He didn’t even get a reprieve once they left, because the girls were on him in as soon as he was seated.

  “How long did she have to choose you? Was it love at first sight?” Hiroko asked with sparkles in her eyes as Asami spurred him on.

  “No, I just meant…Katsumi and Naoki don’t really practice the Art, you know? Since this whole thing is just some weird dream of our dads to unite the schools, I was the only one who made sense.” The sadness he added to his words did seem to have an effect on the girls who gasped and whispered to each other conspiratorially.

  “Don’t be sad Akio, she fought Kodachi to defend your engagement,” Asami reached out a comforting hand to rest on his arm. “She wouldn’t do something like that if she wasn’t serious, you know?”

  Wow, Naoki was spot-on about how people who aren’t involved would insist on making it their business , he lamented. These girls barely knew him, and knew Ranma even less! He was glad today was a half day, class hadn’t even started yet and he’d already added fuel to the fire.

  For Ranma’s first quiet morning since they’d arrived, he allowed himself to sleep in a little. His dad’s arm still wasn’t totally recovered, and Ranma's stomach still hurt where Akio kicked it. Breakfast was quiet but at least dry, and he went to the dojo after everybody had gone to work or school to do some relaxing slow forms.

  Eventually, Mrs. Hana came in brandishing a full laundry basket. “Ranma, any chance you can give me a hand with this?” She asked in a sing-song voice and he wondered what had her so chipper today. Hopefully it wasn’t their shopping trip later, he wasn’t in the right headspace to handle that much cheeriness.

  “Of course, Mrs. Tendo. Saotomes aren’t freeloaders, after all.” Just a few years ago he couldn’t have imagined ever saying something like that, because for most of his life the Saotomes absolutely had been freeloaders, or at least moochers, deploying their martial arts skills to acquire the things they needed to survive without paying for them.

  Plus, he liked spending time with Mrs. Hana. She was really nice, and full of advice and stories, mostly about her sons. Especially while they were going through clothes, Ranma had no idea how she remembered so much just from looking at t-shirts and pants but just about every piece had a story attached.

  Things took a turn once they started hanging wet clothes, though. Ranma was listening to a story about Naoki playing baseball when he was 10 and absent-mindedly handing her things to hang, when suddenly he realized he was holding some of her underwear.

  His face turned the color of a tomato and he tried to look away while also handing it to her, but instead of taking it she laughed. “Ranma you’re going to have to get used to seeing and handling those, I’m afraid. Why don’t you hang that one up?”

  The frozen look of betrayal on his face must have been obvious because she rolled her eyes. “You understand you’re going to have to change in the girls’ locker room for gym, yes? And you’ll probably see much more risqué things than my high cut panties.”

  Ranma’s brain stopped functioning at that point as all the blood in his body rushed to his face. At least she mercifully took the verboten item out of his hands and hung it herself, leaving him to quietly wish for death.

  As she put up more unmentionables, Mrs. Hana was deep in thought. “Hmm…speaking of which, are you going to be able to wear the gym uniforms?”

  It took a minute to process what she asked. “Uniforms, plural? Aren’t they just, like, a t-shirt and shorts? That’s fine.” Sure, his entire legs would be on display but that would just let him show off his lean, muscular physique.

  “And the swimsuit?” Hana turned and looked at him with concern. He supposed his reaction to the dress was extreme enough to warrant it, but honestly he didn’t care as much about the gym uniforms. They were practical, casual, and designed for athletics.

  “Yeah, that’s fine too. I worked hard for these muscles, I don’t mind showin’ ‘em off!” Ranma flexed and hoped Mrs. Hana would see the definition he’d strived so hard for.

  She tilted her head a little but did it with a smile. “That’s good, I was worried about inviting you and your father on our annual family beach trip this summer. Maybe we’ll even pick you up a swimsuit today.”

  …He wanted to say that worried him, that wearing a girl’s swimsuit in front of his hosts was more embarrassing than the idea of wearing one in front of hypothetical schoolmates, but he just couldn’t bring himself to care. That worried him a little, did it say anything about him? “No thank you, I don’t wanna get somethin’ like that until it’s absolutely necessary.”

  Mrs. Hana tittered as she hung up the last of the wet clothes.

  Ranma noticed Akio seemed disappointed when he and Naoki came home. The middle Tendo son dashed up to his room without even saying hello, just a hurried, “I’ve gotta get ready!” as he sprinted up the stairs.

  “You okay, man?” Ranma asked Akio, who flopped his shoes off in the genkan with all the enthusiasm of a wet cat.

  “Eh, I was excited about training this afternoon but Naoki just told me you all were going to the store for clothes. If he’s there it’s gonna take forever .” He was so bummed it made Ranma feel guilty, the trip was for his benefit after all.

  “Well…do you wanna come with us?” Ranma suggested. “Might be a little more fun than a solo jog or workout, right?”

  “Nah, I’d just sit there while he threw a bunch of different outfits at you.” He waved his hand dismissively as the two chilled in the living room. “It’s fine, I trained by myself for years before you showed up, I can manage a few more hours.”

  “Well, actually, you could make sure he doesn’t put me in anythin’ too girly.” Ranma found himself weirdly excited about Akio coming with them. As a fellow martial artist he’d be able to analyze what they got for weaknesses that Naoki and Mrs. Hana wouldn’t notice.

  The idea seemed at least a little appealing. “Well, that’s true. Aren’t you just getting simple stuff though?”

  “Your mom said stuff for guys and girls, plus maybe a swimsuit. I said no but she just chuckled.” Ranma took a long drink of water to hide his blush, which meant he failed to notice Akio’s face all the way to the tips of his ears turn bright red.

  “Wh-why’d y-you…whaddya need a swimsuit for?” Akio stammered for some reason.

  “She said something about a yearly family trip to the beach. I guess since it’s March swimsuits are still cheap so it’s better to get one now.” Ranma shrugged. When Mrs. Hana made the suggestion it didn’t bother him, so now they just might get a swimsuit. He didn’t need to wear it any time soon anyway.

  Naoki practically leapt into the living room and Ranma’s jaw almost dropped. The boy completely transformed himself for a simple shopping trip, and Ranma understood Akio’s trepidation if his brother was going to be this serious about it.

  His short brown hair was spiked back instead of combed to the side, save for a plumage-like curl that shot out of the front of his hairline. He wore several clashing necklaces atop a black t-shirt with the romaji words “ANGEL’S EGG” written on it in large, white letters. His jacket was a garish, pink sukajan with sakura blossoms on the back, but it was so large he wore it down around his elbows. While both his shirt and jacket were oversized, his jeans were tight and tucked into boots that ended halfway up his calf.

  Ranma thought he knew how to project confidence, but Naoki’s effortless swagger put him to shame. “Ranma baby, you’re not gonna see this side of me too often. I want this trip to be a learning opportunity for you: watch how I carry myself and remember our first lesson.”

  If Naoki tried to put Ranma in anything like what he was currently wearing, Ranma wasn’t sure how he’d react. But the clothes themselves likely weren’t the lesson Naoki was trying to teach. “Yes, Naoki- sensei . I’ll be mindful.”

  Mrs. Hana appeared with her purse and a much more sensible outfit for running errands and smiled at her sons. “Well Akio, you’ve got the run of the hou—”

  “Actually, I wanna come with you, if that’s all right.” Akio interrupted with odd determination while looking at Naoki and Ranma. “Uh…Ranma asked if I’d help.”

  Naoki snickered but Mrs. Hana nodded. “Of course, Akio. Is everybody ready?”

  The one really frustrating thing about traveling with the Tendos, especially as a girl, was how they were all taller than Ranma. It wasn’t as bad in their house, he was starting to get used to it, but out in the world with other people to compare them to, it just reinforced how dainty— compact he was.

  A small part of him considered perching on Akio’s back so he could see over the crowd, but he’d already asked him to come along on an errand he didn’t enjoy, and having someone sitting on his shoulders probably wouldn’t make that any more comfortable.

  It didn’t help that he also didn’t wrap today, and after yesterday he realized just how big a difference having support made even when doing something as simple as walking around. The longer the trip lasted the more he just wanted to get to the store and grab a sports bra already, his chest was starting to ache .

  Malls were something of a mystery to Ranma. He wasn’t a stranger to them, but he and his dad rarely had a good reason to enter one. Once inside, Mrs. Hana turned to him and smiled. “Okay Ranma, there’s two major stops we have to make, bras and clothes. You and I will start with bras while the bo— my boys will start picking out clothes.”

  Ranma’s mouth was dry as Mrs. Hana led him to the escalators and the second floor. Most of the shoppers up here were women, which immediately made Ranma feel out of place and nervous. At least there were fewer of them in general.

  They approached a shop absolutely plastered with soft, pastel colors. “Fair warning, we’re going to talk to a sales associate and get your measurements. She’ll probably make all sorts of suggestions for things you don't need. Just nod and say thank you, you don’t have to try anything that you’re not comfortable with.”

  A spark of defensive anger fired off in the recesses of Ranma’s psyche, but he was able to halt the charge before it amplified into a flash of fury. “Okay, thanks for the warning Mrs. Tendo.” He reminded himself that the salesperson would just see a normal girl, and wasn’t insulting his masculinity.

  The crushing din of the mall quieted to a muffled hum once they were inside the shop, and immediately some of Ranma’s anxiety subsided. Compared to the mix of natural and fluorescent lighting of the main shopping area, the store was lit with warm bulbs that put him at ease.

  Mrs. Hana patiently waited for one of the few saleswomen to finish with the woman she was helping while Ranma let his eyes wander. He didn’t feel any voyeuristic thrill in the boutique, just curiosity tinged with the nagging feeling he shouldn’t be here.

  It’s fine, you’re a girl right now, it’s fine to be here, Mrs. Hana wouldn’t have brought you if she didn’t think it was okay. He tried not to pay too much attention to the lacier, racier options that adorned some of the mannequins and focus on the plainest ones.

  Something clicked as he scanned the other shoppers, all of whom were utterly indifferent to his presence. This was normal . It was fine that he was here. She was just a girl who needed new bras.

  She tugged Mrs. Hana’s sleeve and whispered “Lemme handle this.” The older woman nodded and stood back to watch Ranma work.

  Once the saleswoman, whose tag read Megami, was done Ranma stepped forward. “Hi! I need my measurements taken, please.” She didn’t give her biggest smile but the polite smirk of a girl who’d done this before and didn’t want to take up too much of the woman’s time.

  “Sure thing, darlin’,” Megami led the pair to the private fitting rooms in the back. Ranma didn’t expect to have to take her shirt off but figured any nervousness would be perfectly natural for any girl in this situation.

  After Megami measured twice and rattled off a set of numbers and letters that Ranma had no idea how to interpret, she let out a low whistle. “Growth spurt?” She asked with mild interest.

  Ranma pulled one of the corners of her mouth to the side, nodded, and replied with a mixture of pride, resignation, and banal irritation. “Yep.”

  And that was the whole interaction! She didn’t even make any recommendations, just asked Ranma if she needed anything else and went on to help the next customer when Ranma said no.

  Mrs. Hana beamed at her when she came back and whispered the size she’d been given. Other than a slight widening of the eyes, Mrs. Hana’s only response was to nod. “Perfect, the sports bras are over this way.”

  She led them to a corner of the store that didn’t have any mannequins, just shelves with what looked like the binders Naoki offered her. Mrs. Hana picked a few out and handed them to Ranma, who impressed herself by not blushing or getting nervous. Mrs. Hana’s exposure therapy must have helped.

  “Are we getting these?” There were three bras in her hands, with slightly different styles.

  “No, you’re going to try them on and figure out which ones fit you the best.” Mrs. Hana answered softly while looking toward a different part of the store with a thoughtful expression.

  Tilting her head, Ranma asked, “Wait, didn’t I just get measured for that?”

  “It’d be nice if it was that easy,” Mrs. Hana sighed. “Women’s clothing sizes are…inconsistent. But sports bras typically use a different measuring system. Knowing your measurements is important for finding the closest size.”

  Glowering at her first step into the complicated, frustrating world of women’s clothes, Ranma started shuffling back to the fitting rooms. “I’m already regretting this…” she muttered.

  A few minutes later, Ranma was struggling with the pads in her first bra. Once she pulled it over her head like a tank top, the loose pads inside the bra…folded up or something? She could tell they needed to lie flat and it was tight enough that the lump created by the fold was uncomfortable. Her strategy was to try and massage the pad back into its proper shape while she was wearing the bra, but that was tricky and frustrating.

  “Ranma?” She heard Mrs. Hana call for her.

  “In here…”

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  “How’s it going?” The older woman spoke softly through the door, responding to the clear distress in Ranma’s voice.

  “Uhhh…there are these pad…things that got all twisted up.” She didn't like admitting defeat, but she'd been ineffectively massaging herself through the bra for the last five minutes to no avail. If she thought of Mrs. Hana…no, Tendo- sensei as her…Anything Goes Girlhood instructor then she could ask for training.

  The thought sent a chill down her… his spine. What was he doing? He didn't need to learn how to…to be a girl. He let himself get talked into wearing a bra and whatever Akio and Naoki were picking out for him elsewhere. He already had those wraps, they held up just fine for him against Kuno, he didn't need this .

  Ranma yanked the sports bra off with a grunt and started redoing his tangzhuang. He'd apologize to the Tendos for wasting their day later. He was already committed to cooking their dinner, they'd get over it.

  “Ranma, would you like some help?” Mrs. Hana’s voice, nurturing and kind, cut through the red haze. “I promise you're not the first…child to have trouble with their first bra.”

  He…he couldn't…he wasn't a girl, he didn't need help, it was fine that he didn’t know how to wear a bra. This was all pretend, just a way for him to get through school without worrying about boys teasing him and making fun of him and…annnnd that's exactly what Mrs. Hana was talking about.

  If he didn't know how to pretend to be a girl he'd stand out, not just to the other girls but to the boys. It'd be junior high all over again, if not worse because his “deception” would be found out.

  “Y-yeah, thanks.” Mrs. Hana didn't trick him into anything, she wanted to help. She recognized his ignorance about girls and was helping him shore up his defenses, just like a martial arts sensei.

  She slipped in to the changing room and looked at Ranma, who hadn't finished tying his shirt back up. “Oh, you haven't started yet? You know, if you’re uncomfortable we can just go home.”

  Just like that, she was giving him an out in a way that let him save face. They could call the day here and he didn’t have to feel guilty about wasting everybody’s time. Hell, Naoki probably enjoyed just getting dressed up.

  All he needed to do was take her offer. Looking at the pile of unworn sports bras, he realized…he really couldn’t handle this today. It was too much, too fast. He hadn’t even had his curse for a month and he was already trying on girl's underwear and looking at swimsuits, how much longer until he was wearing makeup, dresses, and going on dates with Akio?

  Boys, rather. Not Akio specifically, though any boy was equally unappealing, even Naoki.

  “Before you make your decision,” Mrs. Hana began, with a wholly calm, reassuring voice. “I want you to know that I'm very proud of you. Very few boys are brave enough to do what you're doing.”

  Her words and smile pierced deep into Ranma's memories and unlocked a moment he could barely remember, of a red-haired woman beaming at him. “I'm so proud of you, Ranma!” she said before the memory looped. In that moment he realized he couldn't let Mrs. Hana down: if she was proud of him he'd get through the day!

  He felt his eyes watering but before tears could appear, he slipped out of the emotional almost-girl he was developing and back into his true, proper persona. “Nah, it ain't nothin',” he dismissed her praise with a wave of his hand. “Th-thanks though. I jus’ couldn't figure out these pad things.”

  She took the bra from him and pointed to two holes on the inside of the strap. “You can grab the pads through here, which makes the process much simpler.”

  Handing the bra back to Ranma, she dropped a few more items on the pile. One was a plain, burgundy piece of fabric that held its shape. “This is a normal bra.” She warned him. “You do not have to try it on. But, since we're here, I thought you might want to see what it's like.”

  She did say something about a normal bra, didn't she? Ranma regarded the support garment somberly. He couldn't let himself spiral again, not when Mrs. Hana’s approval was at stake, but he found it difficult to focus while it was here in the room with them. He either needed to ask her to take it away or get it over with and try it on now.

  “No worries,” he boasted as he picked it up and examined it. “Pops’n me hiked in this big forest up in Hokkaido during a blizzard once, I can handle it.”

  “Well, if you need help with it let me know,” she smiled again and stepped through the curtain to give Ranma back his privacy.

  Hana was prepared for today. The whole point was to give Ranma, a boy, the necessary tools to pretend to be a girl, because he was, in fact, a boy. That included approval and gentle encouragement since, as a boy who'd been exclusively raised by his father and didn't have many girl friends growing up, which was normal for boys, he knew very little about what was expected of him while pretending to be a girl. Since he was a boy.

  It didn't matter what he came out of the girl's fitting room wearing, he would be a boy, and— Oh gods she looks so nice!

  Ranma opened the curtain and presented herself to Hana expectantly, even pleadingly, rosy eyes searching Hana’s face for any sign of disappointment. They found none, because Hana's face was the epitome of motherly joy, even though Ranma was not her daughter. Child. Son .

  Still, it was clear Ranma didn't know what he was doing: the straps were too loose and flesh was spilling out of the sides of the burgundy cups. “Very good, Ranma! Let me just adjust a few things for you, if that's all right.”

  Once Ranma had her tangzhuang tied back up she inspected herself in the mirror. Hana marveled at the subtle difference: a simple T-shirt bra didn't make her seem any bigger than she already was, but it shifted things around and even with the boy-sized Chinese shirt she was wearing it emphasized her feminine figure.

  And, Hana noticed, she didn't find it objectionable.

  “Yanno, it makes sense that the fine stud that I am would look this good as a girl.” He boasted quietly enough not to be heard outside the booth, and flashed Hana a cocky grin.

  She was happy and devastated she didn't bring her camera, because she wouldn't have been able to resist snapping a picture. Maybe Naoki brought his? “You figured it out very quickly, did it give you any trouble?” Hana decided if she talked it would stop her from thinking.

  “At first, then I remembered that thing you did with the apron last night and figured it'd work the same.” Ranma gestured at himself and stuck out her chest for emphasis.

  Hana could not stop herself from wrapping the girl up in a tight hug. “Oh I’m so proud of you! If you apply yourself this well to your studies I’m sure you’ll be top of your class before long.” She beamed down at Ranma, her enormous smile practically reflecting on the girl’s shimmering eyes.

  Ranma slowly raised her arms up and returned the hug and leaned into Hana. The older woman realized she shouldn’t have done that, Ranma wasn’t her daughter after all, but now that she was returning the hug it was clear she appreciated it.

  He appreciated it. Dammit, Hana was doing such a good job, she prepared for this. And now she was mid-hug with her friend’s son. “Oh, so sorry Ranma, I get a little emotional during big milestones. You should have seen how much I cried when Katsumi graduated last year.” She giggled to relieve some of her tension, and that signal convinced Ranma to disengage from the hug.

  He let out a little sniff and turned to grab one of the sports bras from the pile. “Uh-uh huh, d-don’t worry about it,” he replied shakily. “I-I’m gonna try these on now, I’ll be done in a minute.” Hana didn’t need the mirror to tell her that Ranma was fighting back tears, and guilt wracked her as she stepped back out into the hallway.

  Fortunately, Ranma’s emotional episode didn’t last. After a few minutes Hana heard a light thump from the fitting room. Then another, then several in quick succession, accompanied by a light giggle. “Mrs. Hana!” Ranma exclaimed as she burst out of the curtain just in a black sports bra. “Look at this!” She cartwheeled and flipped up and down the hallway, eventually landing on one hand, and looked up at Hana with glee. “They’re barely movin’!”

  Ranma’s childlike joy was contagious and Mrs. Hana forgot her worries. “I’m so happy for you! How does it feel? It doesn’t look too tight.”

  “Nah, this is like the third one.” She switched to her other hand and started doing pushups. “They’re even better than the wrap, it moves with me and doesn’t feel like it might come undone any second!”

  Hana nodded. “That’s the idea. If you’re ready we’ll grab a few and head out, I’m sure Naoki has Akio carrying half the store at this point.”

  Ranma giggled and rolled back into the changing room, emerging after a moment with the sports bra she’d been wearing and the normal one. “We don’t have to get that one today if you don’t want to, Ranma.” Hana wanted to make sure the gir— boy didn’t feel pressured, but he shook his head.

  “I ‘preciate it Mrs. Tendo, but I’m good.” He pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes as a thought tumbled into his mind. “It’d be weird if a girl didn’t have at least a couple regular bras, yeah?”

  With a smile, Hana was delighted that her new ward was such a quick study. They grabbed a few more sports bras and two more t-shirt bras in white and black, Hana explaining that bras had an unfortunate tendency to show through clothes so Ranma needed options.

  They made their way downstairs to one of the mall’s anchor stores, a multilevel department store. Akio was standing near the escalators and, exactly as Hana predicted, was holding an enormous stack of clothes. He looked miserable, but brightened up considerably when he caught sight of Hana and Ranma.

  Ranma, still excited from earlier, called out to him. “Akio! Check this out!” She cried and sprinted toward him, somersaulting and flipping through the air. A few shoppers stared and Hana blushed a little, but he covered the distance so quickly it wasn’t worth saying anything. Ranma landed in front of Akio who, like Hana, had been captivated by the joyous expression on the younger boy’s face.

  Standing on the tips of her toes, Ranma whispered something into Akio’s ear that made Hana’s youngest son blush but he responded with a hearty, “Congrats!” Ranma started quickly chatting about how much easier it was going to be to train and fight, and she wouldn’t need to take so long wrapping up.

  Briefly, Hana saw the two of them tousling a little pink-haired boy’s hair while Hana held their second child instead of a bag of undergarments, a black-haired little girl who wasn’t quite old enough to run around unattended like her brother, and Hana had to stop and repeat the now-familiar mantra Ranma isn’t a girl, Ranma is a boy; Ranma isn’t a girl, Ranma is a boy; Ranma isn’t a boy, she’s a gir—dammit, he’s a boy, not a girl, to herself.

  “Akio, where’s your brother?” Hana asked, shifting focus to her own children to get her mind off hypothetical, impossible grandchildren.

  “He’s upstairs. This is all stuff we picked out from the men and boys sections.” The mountain of clothes in his arms jiggled for emphasis. “I think it’s all for Ranma…” He sounded unsure of his words.

  “Well, if either of you find anything you need let me know, it’ll be summer before long.” Hana reminded him, “Do your swim trunks from last year still fit?” Akio blushed, which Hana expected. What she didn't expect was to see Ranma blush. Hana smiled, remembering the swimsuit conversation earlier.

  “Uhhh, probably not, I haven’t had a reason to wear them since August but I did have a growth spurt this year.” Akio mumbled and Ranma’s blush intensified as she distracted herself by picking at some of the clothes in Akio’s arms.

  “Good point! Since we were talking about getting one for Ranma, we’ll have you boys try on some swim trunks as well.” That pushed Ranma over the edge, who practically jumped to the escalator.

  “Hey I’m gonna go find Naoki and see what he’s doing I’ll see you guys upstairs bye!” The words tumbled out of her mouth at speed and Hana couldn’t help but titter.

  Akio watched Ranma run off before turning to Hana and quietly admonishing her. “Hey, mom, he’s sensitive to that stuff, you didn’t see what set him off last night.”

  Hana wasn’t used to Akio, of all her children, pushing back against her. Heck, she wasn’t used to him disagreeing with her. He was well into his teens and never “rebelled” against her in the same way both of his brothers did in their own ways. Despite the fact that she should have been shocked, scandalized that he was doing it now…

  He was doing it in defense of Ranma’s feelings. Hana’s jaw sagged but she kept her mouth closed, and Akio looked mortified that he’d said anything but didn’t apologize or walk it back, just stood his ground and stared at her.

  “...Thank you for reminding me, Akio.” Hana responded softly. “Ranma did a very good job earlier and I let that get to my head a little.” Her boy was going to make some woman very happy one day, and it definitely wasn’t going to be Ranma who was, Hana reminded herself, actually a boy.

  They ascended to the second floor and Hana instructed Akio to go wait near the changing rooms. “But mom, those are the women’s changing rooms,” he quailed, understandably worried about being seen skulking around them.

  “If you’re holding a stack of clothes people will assume you’re shopping with your mother or your girlfriend, which in this case is true.” She tried not to notice his blush at “girlfriend”. “Just don’t get too close and don’t look in their direction, I want to make sure we can find you.”

  She decided to indulge a little and see if there was anything she’d want, so she wandered over to the dresses and skirts section. Despite her preparations, there was no way she could have defended herself against what she found.

  Turning a corner, she saw Ranma standing stock still. The boy didn’t notice her because something had his attention. His cheeks were practically glowing red and Hana followed his gaze and saw…a mannequin wearing a simple light blue sundress. It had a white ribbon belt tied in a bow on the back.

  Hana’s eyes went wide and she instinctively stepped back behind a rack of clothes, peering just enough to see what Ranma would do. It felt wrong to spy on her…him…her(?) like this, but she didn’t know the right thing to do either.

  A sales associate walked up to Ranma, who squeaked a little in surprise but didn’t immediately try to get away. Hana couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but she did catch “and we’ll hem it in if you don’t like the length.”

  At that point Hana had to leave. Conflicting, contradictory feelings flashed through her mind. Ranma…stopped and looked at a dress all his-her-his…herself, and at least listened to the associate’s sales pitch. All the fantasies and urges she’d been fighting, not even successfully, roared back to the forefront of her mind, though now her future daughter-in-law was wearing such a pretty dress.

  She didn’t even hear Naoki’s voice until he walked in front of her and clapped. “Mama! You okay?”

  Mouth dry, she looked at her middle son with confusion. “Hmm? Oh, Naoki! There you are, sorry, I was just…” Desperate for something to distract herself, she looked down and saw the couple of skirts she’d picked out. “Doing a little shopping for me.”

  Smirking, he thumbed through the items hanging on her arm. “Well, you are the best-dressed mother I’ve ever known,” he said charmingly, and it brought a grin to her face.

  “Th-thank you. Have you seen Ranma? Sh- he came up here to find you a few minutes ago.”

  “Oh good, I’ll keep an eye out. I saw Akio near the changing rooms.” He flashed a V-sign at her and pushed her toward the next aisle. “You go do your shopping, I’ll find our little lost boy and take over for you. Have fun, mama!”

  Hana stood frozen while she thought about what to do next.

  Ranma was exhausted. After leaving the dress (and politely explaining to the sales associate that “Auntie Hana” was handling the money and didn’t want Ranma picking up anything so expensive) and wandering back toward the sportier part of the store where the women’s suits and trousers were, Naoki found Ranma and guided the pair to the changing rooms.

  He took several minutes showing Ranma the different outfits he’d put together (there was so much flannel) eventually catching the attention of a (thankfully) different sales associate. “Excuse me, miss, my cousin needs her measurements taken, we’ve gotta put her together a whole new wardrobe!” he said with glee, and Ranma was once again taken to a private room while a salesperson measured body parts. At least she could take Ranma’s measurements over the clothes.

  But Ranma still wasn’t done after that: Naoki somehow found even more clothes in the few minutes Ranma was getting measured and described another handful of outfits, the reasoning behind them, and how each choice was going to completely masculinize Ranma’s figure.

  Once he’d explained everything, he shoved all of the clothes into Ranma’s hands and pointed back to the changing rooms. “Just try on everything the way I explained it, but experiment a little. Leave anything you don’t want in the room and we’ll see what we’re working with when you’re done.” He flashed two V-signs and grinned wide, which Ranma half-heartedly returned.

  The problem was that Ranma couldn’t stop thinking about the blue dress. Ranma didn’t want to try on a billion different trousers and pants and jackets, especially with the summer coming up. It’d be hot, and they should be buying clothes that would breathe, not multiple layers.

  After the twelfth or so outfit, Ranma heard someone hang something next to the privacy curtain and walk away. Not thinking anything of it at first, once it was clear they weren’t coming back, Ranma peeked out and gasped: the blue dress was hanging right there. The sales associate must have found one in the right size.

  Grabbing the dress and bringing it into the room, Ranma’s heart began to race. Dresses were never something the Saotomes paid much attention to, but Ranma always thought they looked very pretty. Once again, the image of the frumpy school dress uniform came up, and Ranma grimaced at the thought of it. No school would have anything like the blue dress, but there were so many cuter options than the Furinkan pinafore.

  It’d be rude not to try it on, at least. Ranma removed the most recent of Naoki’s suits and took a deep breath before pulling on the dress. The bow was sewn into the dress so thankfully there was no need to tie it. Ranma smoothed out the creases and realized it was difficult to look at the mirror. The dress felt so tight it had to look silly on a boy’s body…right? Could Ranma handle it if it did?

  Eyes closed, Ranma turned and faced the mirror, counted down from ten, then opened—

  The girl in the mirror looked back at her, and her breath caught in her throat. She was so…pretty. Color theory was a foreign concept to Ranma, but she knew that women liked to wear lighter colors during spring. She looked like she was ready for a picnic in the park, maybe she’d walk flower-lined paths with a parasol, enjoying the breeze through her hair, wrapping her arm around Akio’s…

  With that thought, reality snapped back into place: his reality. In a panic, he practically clawed the dress off and threw it to the ground, refusing to look at the mirror any longer. His breathing was ragged and tears flowed freely down his face, but he wouldn’t let any of the sobs out. He saw red in the corners of his vision and counted down from 50, trying to bring his anger back under control. Causing a scene right now would just get him in trouble, the associate was just trying to help.

  Obviously the dress was a mistake. Just looking at it was a mistake, because he liked how she…he…he liked how the girl in the mirror looked. But he wasn't her, he didn't want to be her, no matter how good it felt. No matter how much it hurt that he wasn't.

  Nobody would understand. Not his dad, not Mrs. Tendo, not Naoki, Katsumi, his new friends at school, Kodachi…

  Not Akio, he definitely wouldn't understand, he'd think Ranma was a freak just like every other boy. He probably already thought that, probably hated that he was gonna be fake engaged to a boy, probably hated that Ranma was gonna be pretending to be a fake girl.

  Because Ranma wasn't unobservant: he noticed how flustered Akio got around Ranma's girl form. That had to be tearing him up inside, knowing the hot girl was actually a paragon of manliness. So Ranma wouldn't make that worse for him by prancing around in girly clothes.

  Sighing, he gathered the outfits he didn’t hate and left everything else in the room, never letting his eyes settle on the dress. He was pretending to be a girl, but he was, in fact, a boy, and he couldn’t forget that. Couldn’t let himself forget that.

  Mrs. Hana was waiting with a small stack of clothes for her and her sons when he came out, and they gushed over the outfits he’d picked. He tried to match their excited energy, but when Mrs. Hana observantly asked him if everything was okay, he put on a tired grin. “It’s just been a lot today, I’m ready to leave I think.”

  Everyone agreed and they got in line to check out. Ranma’s heart almost jumped out of his chest when the cashier pulled the blue dress out of the pile. Had he accidentally picked it up? He didn’t have it after he’d left the changing room, then how…

  “Mama, that dress!” Naoki exclaimed. “Are you getting fancy for any particular reason?”

  Mrs. Hana chuckled. “I’m allowed to buy something nice for myself every once and a while, dear. Akio, Ranma, what do you two think?”

  The younger boys shrugged and mumbled something along the lines of “It looks fine,” though Ranma swore Mrs. Hana’s smile faltered a little when she looked at him.

  Hana noticed Ranma regained some of his energy while they cooked dinner. It was going to be a little late, which meant Mr. Saotome could help, so the work went fast. She wondered if she should talk to Ranma’s father about what happened today. On the one hand, she should probably tell him how his son was doing, but on the other she wasn’t entirely sure how he was doing.

  Instead she focused on the mahi mahi. Grilling fish was her specialty, and it gave her something to distract herself with. Ranma handled the kakiage, once again using the technique for determining the perfect oil temperature, always turning to give her a proud smile whenever he got it right and excitedly showing his father.

  Even better, he had a chance to teach her something afterward. “What are you doing with all the oil?” he asked.

  “Normally once it’s cool I pour it into a can and throw it out.” She replied.

  “Nah, you can keep it, this much oil has to be expensive.” And he was right, there was at least half a liter left in the pot. “Once it’s cool we’ll strain it with cheese cloth a few times to get all the burnt stuff out. You can reuse oil three or four times that way!”

  Genma flashed a thumbs up to confirm. “Helped us keep our pans seasoned and rust-free.”

  Hana brought the Saotomes into a group hug and squeezed. “Ah, you both are so nice! You've been wonderful guests, I hope we've been half as good as your hosts.”

  Ranma laughed nervously and started rinsing greens as soon as she let go, while Genma chuckled with a thoughtful expression.

  “Actually, I have a request, Mrs. Tendo,” Genma began hesitantly. “I haven't talked to Ranma about it, but…would it be too much to ask if we could use your second guest room?”

  Ranma dropped the cabbage into the sink in shock, and looked at his father with a cross between betrayal and fear.

  “Well, we haven't been using it, but could I ask what for?”

  “Yeah, pops, what do you want it for?” Ranma spat.

  Genma sighed. “Ranma, you haven't had your own room in five years. A young man should have his own space.”

  Hana realized Ranma was objecting to getting his own room and immediately took Mr. Saotome's side. “Oh he's right, Ranma. Especially with all the clothes we got today, you'll need a desk for your schoolwork, and…” she almost suggested a vanity, but after today she wasn't sure how to approach that topic anymore.

  “Not to mention now that I'm working I'll need my own space too. A single room is just not big enough for two people,” Genma reasoned.

  Anger burned in Ranma's eyes. “I don't need any of that stuff, I can do homework in the livin’ room or the dojo or somethin’, o-o-or we could just set up a desk and closet and stuff in the spare room like an office.”

  Her sons begged her and Soun to let them have their own rooms, back when they used the extra space for storage. It seemed so odd that any child wouldn't want that.

  “Well, Ranma, I'm sorry but I have to insist. I know I have a tendency to talk in my sleep and that disturbs your rest.” Hana hadn't seen Genma pull out his stentorian, fatherly voice yet, she sat back to watch her fellow single parent in action. “Since it seems like Mrs. Tendo is fine with it, I will be moving into the downstairs guest room on Saturday.”

  Hana nodded in agreement.

  Ranma glowered at them, but Hana was long inured to the sight of an angry teenage boy, and Genma could clearly handle his own son. “Fine! Whatever, I don't care, it's your life!”

  He whipped off his apron and tossed it on the counter as he stormed out of the kitchen. “Boy, where are you going?” Genma demanded.

  “Dojo!” His son angrily barked back, refusing to elaborate.

  Hana patted Genma on the back as he let out an exasperated sigh. “Well fought, Master Saotome,” she mockingly took on the voice of a wizened old martial artist, sagely congratulating a fellow master, and Mr. Saotome chuckled.

  “Thank you for allowing us to take up even more of your home.” He gave Hana his biggest grin and bowed at the waist, arms at his side. “And for covering Ranma's clothes today, I could tell he was excited when I got home.”

  She looked away with a little guilt, using the food as an excuse to avert her eyes. “No worries, I know you're good for it. And you wouldn't be trying to put down roots here if you were planning on running out.” She said the last part with a knowing wink, assuring him it was a joke.

  To her relief he chuckled. “He needs stability in his life, space to be his own person. I should have never taken him on the trip…” The weight of old sins crashed down on him and Hana gave him another comforting pat.

  “My door's open if you ever want to talk about it." She offered, and he smiled.

  Naoki was overcorrecting, Akio concluded. Since Ranma definitely didn’t want to be thrown and caught, Naoki wanted to see how high Ranma could throw Akio, then leap up and fight in mid-air like he did with Mr. Saotome. He wanted this to happen at least six times in the ten minutes Naoki thought they could keep a bunch of high schoolers entertained.

  Akio had to repeatedly remind his brother that he didn’t know how to fight in the air at all, which didn’t seem fair for an exhibition that was supposed to showcase both Ranma and Akio’s skills. Naoki’s idea of compromise was five times.

  Fortunately, Ranma came into the dojo where they were having their…discussion. Un fortunately, Ranma was clearly upset, and Akio didn’t want to end the evening with another fight against the black-haired boy.

  “Oh, you two are here. Akio, I’m takin’ a couple’a cinder blocks, I need to break somethin’.” Akio hadn’t seen Ranma’s simmering, growly anger yet, and had no intention of getting in his way.

  “Whatever, man. You wanna help out when you’re done?” So far Ranma had let the Tendos handle all the exhibition planning; Akio at least wanted him to be aware of the plan.

  Ranma let out a noncommittal grunt as he started stacking bricks. Akio kept his eye on the boy, wanting to know just how many bricks he was going to stack. Normally anger made him sloppy, but did quiet rage focus him?

  Four bricks. Akio’s warmup, more than Ranma had ever broken in a single strike. He took a deep breath, centered his fist, and let out a surprisingly high-pitched “ Kiai! ” as he punched straight down.

  The tower shattered completely, much to Akio’s chagrin. Either Ranma lied to make him feel better or his anger was giving him necessary clarity. Still, it wasn’t Akio’s maximum.

  “Good job, Ranma.” Akio stood and approached Ranma as he rubbed his wrist. “Wanna try for five?”

  Ranma’s glare gave Akio pause. Maybe he needed some time, maybe he thought Akio was trying to sabotage him by giving him more than he could do, maybe he was just snapping at the nearest thing. “...No, that hurt.” He sniffed. “Y’all plannin’ for Friday?”

  Akio nodded. “That’s right, right now Naoki has you throwing me and jumping up so we can fight mid-air a bunch.” Given how angry Ranma seemed, and the fact that it gave him the focus he needed to perform feats of strength, Akio hoped it could be directed to productive rather than destructive ends. Especially since they really needed to get everybody’s mind off…the engagement.

  Groaning, Akio knew he needed to come clean about the mess he made this morning, the shopping trip occupied much of his attention once they were out of school. He considered waiting until tomorrow, but he didn’t want to forget again and he figured Ranma would be way madder if he found out from someone at school instead of Akio.

  “Ugh, before we get into that, I might have messed up a little today. People were asking me questions and I might have made it sound like Ranma… chose me to be his fiancé.” His eyes were locked on Ranma in the hopes that he’d be able to block any rage-powered punches from that direction.

  Surprisingly, Ranma just tilted his head in confusion. “No offense to your brothers, but doesn’t that make the most sense? You’re the only one who practices martial arts.”

  Letting out a sigh of relief, Akio vigorously nodded his head. “Yes! That’s how I explained it, yes, thank you Ranma.”

  Naoki even seemed impressed. “Whoa, good job, bro. Lemme guess, you blurted something out that sounded romantic but thought of something plausible after the fact?”

  “I…yeah that’s what happened exactly.” How’d his brother always know exactly what he was thinking and doing?

  Both of the other boys nodded and let out little gasps of “Ah,” which only creeped Akio out a little; Ranma was so much like his brother sometimes. This actually helped when Akio was felt weird about being attracted to Ranma’s boy form by serving as a reminder that he shouldn’t be. Not because being gay was a bad thing, but Akio didn’t think he was, he’d never been attracted to other boys in the past.

  Granted, that was equally true of girls, and now he was confused again. Why did Ranma have to be so…so…cute?

  “You know, this might be a good time to finally teach you some acting skills baby bro.” Naoki sidled up and put his arm around Akio. “Maybe next year you’ll finally get to play Romeo!”

  Citing one of Akio’s childhood dreams, Naoki knew exactly how to both snap Akio out of the emotional whirlpool he was caught in and redirect his energy entirely. Who cared about the exhibition? This concerned the rest of his high school career!

  Having something to throw himself into made him forget all about the confusing thoughts he was having about Ranma as the three boys went over improvisation drills, trust exercises, and even voice training. Naoki mostly had advice for long-term social engineering whereas Ranma had more experience with fast talking and quick thinking. Both emphasized the usefulness of speaking with confidence and committing to the bit.

  They were interrupted far too soon by his mom’s voice shouting that it was time for dinner, though Ranma stayed behind and sulked. “Aren’t you coming?” Akio asked, not wanting to make his new friend stay in the dojo alone.

  “Nah, I got mad at pops an’ yer mom earlier, I’m just gonna stay out here.” He moseyed over to the cinder blocks and started setting up another stack.

  “Well whatever they did I bet they deserved it. I’ll stay here with you.” Akio came over and started helping him stack blocks, noticing a slight blush on the other boy’s cheeks. And just like that, all the confusing thoughts came rushing back and Akio wished he’d just gone to dinner. He couldn’t now, though, not after what he said.

  “Y-you did a good job with the bricks earlier, you wanna watch me do some, get some pointers for doing four again?”

  Ranma rubbed his wrist and nodded. “Better’n me doin’ it and hurtin’ myself.”

  “Oh, that reminds me!” Akio rushed over to his school bag and brought out a spare gym towel. “Lay this over the bricks next time, it’ll protect your hands. I used to do this all the time when I started.”

  Ranma stood opposite Akio and watched the taller boy square up against the four-block tower. Normally four blocks was Akio’s warmup, so he wasn’t too worried, especially with a towel, but then Ranma smiled at him, like he did on Monday, and Akio felt his insides melt.

  He didn’t want his sudden, intense blush to be obvious so he coughed and quickly started measuring out his punch. Too quickly, it seemed, since when he punched instead of shattering the tower he only smashed the first two, cracked the third in half, and left the fourth wholly intact.

  Akio audibly winced and started rubbing his hand. “Wait, don’t rub it like that,” Ranma held his hand out and gestured for Akio to let him take a look.

  Hesitantly, Akio put his hand in Ranma's, who started gingerly rubbing and pinching each individual bone in Akio’s fingers. All he could do was hope Ranma didn't notice his escalating heartbeat. “Don’t worry, it’ll only hurt if there was a fracture, and if there was we’re gonna want to make sure it’s treated properly.”

  Once he made sure Akio’s fingers were fine he moved to his hands, then his wrists. It was too quiet as Ranma moved up his arm, and Akio heard his breathing quicken.

  Ranma was being…sweet right now. He hadn't seen this side of him yet, just the explosive anger, the bubbly joy, or brief glimpses of vulnerability. He didn't want to snatch his arm away, but he was worried he was gonna do or say something that would set the other boy off. He needed to talk to Naoki later and—

  Akio winced as Ranma's fingers brushed over his forearm just above the wrist. “Okay, I'm gonna massage this a little and make sure it's not broken, ‘kay? You got lotsa little bones in your hands, breakin’ ‘em is a real pain.”

  He walked forward, cradled Akio’s arm, and pulled the two down to their knees. Akio was, at this point, just so much clay in Ranma's hands. All he could focus on was staying as still as possible and letting Ranma finish his examination.

  His ministrations were painful at first, but as time went on the soreness faded and only hurt when Ranma touched that very specific spot.

  “Great! You probably just need some ice and I wouldn't punch anything tomorrow, but it should be—” Akio looked up at Ranma’s face and saw barely-concealed anger and tightly drawn lips.

  Akio wasn't sure what happened, but as he turned to leave he saw Mr. Saotome standing in the doorway. “Hello Akio. You should go eat, your mother is waiting.” Genma said, not looking away from his son.

  Despite the fact that he was Ranma's dad, Akio felt an urge to stay and defend his crus-his fianc-his good friend from whatever argument they were having. He felt his blood start to boil, he stood up, and…

  Ranma gently squeezed his hand and shook his head. “Go eat dinner, Akio.” Ranma hissed.

  Not wanting to be told a third time, Akio walked out past Mr. Saotome. He hoped Ranma would come join them after they were done.

  Ranma would not be the first one to talk, he decided. If his dad wanted to speak to him, he’d have to initiate the conversation. Ranma had all night and Thursday, his dad had to go to work. It wouldn’t be the first time the two of them stood all night, sometimes their training got very strange.

  After a disappointingly short time, however, Genma sighed and took a seat on the dojo floor. “Why don’t you want your own room, son?” He had the temerity to ask.

  Of course, he asked because Ranma could never tell him the truth. That he was terrified his father was just going to disappear in the middle of the night, that he’d wake up an orphan, or that his dad’s sleep talking was actually soothing because it reminded him that his dad was still there.

  That his dad was all he had and he couldn’t lose him.

  “C’mon, you and I both know we’re not gonna be here much longer. We’ve got martial arts to master, temples to visit, monks to beat up. No need makin’ ‘em rearrange their lives for a couple’a wanderers, yeah?”

  Genma shook his head. “This morning you literally begged to stay. Do you want to try that again?”

  Dammit, he had said that. He cursed his own sloppy work, especially after Akio's acting lessons. He blamed it on that mushy crap he'd just done, he didn't need to be doing that with another boy. Shoulda just sent Akio to his mom, she'd have taken a look at his hand, it would have been fine.

  But he couldn't worry about that now, he needed to get his dad to stop being so infuriating.

  “I just…we haven't been training the past few days, and I know that's just ‘cause you're injured, but I'm worried we'll do it less and less if we're not in the same room.” A weak defense, but it was something Genma couldn't immediately disprove.

  Though he could nullify it. “We can just go to each others’ rooms, you know? Is training really what you're worried about?”

  Hanging his head, Ranma floundered for something, anything he could use other than the truth. It finally hit him: the nightmare he'd been having since he was ten.

  “No. What if…what if a cat shows up and you're somewhat else?” Paydirt. Genma immediately softened and looked ashamed.

  “I see, now it makes sense.” His father sighed. Ranma didn't like playing that card, but it was his dad's fault anyway. “Thank you for being open with me. I still think you should have your own space, but we'll have a longer discussion about it tomorrow, okay? I need to sleep on this. You should come eat dinner, though: it's getting cold.”

  Sighing, Ranma only felt a little guilty.