Phoenix

Book One: Ashes

Ranma sighed to herself, distantly fidgeting with the last few grains of rice in her bowl with a chopstick. Everyone else had long since left the breakfast table. It had been like this for weeks now, this constant haze of hopelessness and dread. It felt like walking through quicksand every day, and all she’d have to do was hold still for just a minute and it would swallow her whole.

Five months. Five long months since “it” happened. Everyone in the Tendo household tried not to say it out loud, but despite their efforts, Ranma never let it out of her mind for a second. Stupid old ghoul thought it’d force her to marry Shampoo. Boy, did that backfire. Just when she’d mastered the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique and thought she was getting her life back, too.

Ranma replayed it in her thoughts for what must have been the millionth time. All of it. The ghoul sneaking up from behind, a little poke with a stick, and that was that. The Full-Body Cat’s Tongue pressure point. Ever since, every nerve she had was turned up to maximum volume; the slightest touch anywhere on Ranma’s body could cause unbelievable agony. She couldn’t take a hit anymore – even a punch from a weakling like her father felt like a wrecking ball. Most days, she could barely concentrate on anything but the ever-present scratching of her clothes on her skin as she moved.

Worst of all, the sensation of temperature was amplified too, and that meant hot water – the only thing that would give her back her true form, let her be a guy again – was intolerable. She’d tried. For days she tried to force herself. It’ll only hurt for a minute, she thought, but how wrong she was. Once, her father held her down so she couldn’t escape the kettle, and Mr. Tendo poured it over her head. She was a boy for about two whole minutes before Akane doused Ranma with a bucket of cold water and reversed the effect. Akane knew she wasn’t supposed to, that it wasn’t what Ranma wanted, but she couldn’t just stand outside the bathroom door and listen to him scream.

And then, up on that mountain in the snow, Cologne balancing precariously on her walking stick, dangling Ranma’s salvation -- a little pink locket holding the cure – over a small campfire. All Ranma had to do was snatch it from her hand, and everything would be back to, well, as close to normal as anything that’d happened since Jusenkyo.

She cracked her knuckles. I can do this. I’ve trained for it, Ranma thought to herself, her steely gaze daring the licking flames to challenge her. This is going to hurt like hell, but only for a second.

With a determined kiai, Ranma began her assault, her hands flashing over the flame almost too quickly to see, but the ancient Amazon was keeping pace, for now. She winced as the heat of the fire prickled at her skin, but she had to put it out of her mind; the end was in sight now. She swung wide with her right arm, forcing her adversary to lean closer to dodge. As Cologne drew closer, she rocketed her left arm forward and felt her fingers strike porcelain. She clenched her fist and pulled back, breaking the chain that held the tiny ampule around the witch’s neck. All she had to do now was swallow it, and…

“Saotome!”

So focused had Ranma been on her objective that she failed to notice the slender man in the white robe ascending the slope to her left. In an instant, a barrage of chains bearing blades, claws, and a wooden duck for some reason, rained down toward her. “I will not allow this! Shampoo is mine!”

Ranma lifted her arm instinctively to protect her face, and a sickle-shaped barb caught the underside of her wrist, slicing deeply into her flesh through her shirt. The nerves in her arm reacted with an involuntary spasm, causing -- just for a moment -- her fingers to unclench. Just for a microsecond. Just long enough to make her drop the Phoenix Pill into the fire. As the little pink vial popped open, Ranma watched in slow motion as her life as she knew it ended. The incineration was immediate. Not even the Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique would have granted her the speed to save it.

Since then, she’d tried everything to find another way to reverse the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue. She’d pleaded with Cologne for another pill, but she swore there were no more and the formula to produce them had been lost to the ages. Dr. Tofu had tried every pressure point and acupuncture technique he knew, but it had been no use. Nabiki, who’d just graduated from Furinkan, took her to the community college so she could use something called the outer- ... no, inter… web? Net? Anyway, it was supposed to be, you type your question in the computer and it finds the answer. Turns out those science dweebs didn’t know anything about ancient Amazon medicines, though. As a last-ditch attempt, she’d even asked Happosai for help. He’d admitted he had no idea how to reverse the effect of the pressure point, though not without first extracting a price Ranma paid in shame.

Suddenly, Ranma’s haunting reminiscence was shattered by a familiar voice. “Ranma! I heard what happened!”

She looked up into the open doorway and recognized the silhouette of Ryoga Hibiki against the rising sun. She looked up, but said nothing. Maybe he’d come in friendship? She sure could use a friend these days. They were frenemies at best, but they’d generally been there for each other when it really counted.

“So, it’s true then?” Ranma could only nod.

“So that means…”

Ranma nodded again, looking away just in time to miss a toothy grin start to crack Ryoga’s mask of concern. “That means you won’t be engaged to Akane anymore! And she and I can…” The rest of the sentence was lost to a somewhat maniacal laughter, as tended to befall Ryoga whenever he thought of Ranma’s fiancee.

Her melancholy quickly gave way to fury. How dare he, at a time like this? “I may be a girl, but at least I can talk to her, P-chan.”

Ryoga glowered, clenching his fist. “And you, trying to deny her happiness! You know you can’t give her what she needs, and yet you won’t stand aside for a real man! You’re the pig!”

An audible gasp from the kitchen doorway split the tension. Kasumi, broom in hand, glared at Ryoga with what could only be described as motherly disapproval. “Ryoga Hibiki! You should know better! Ranma is a lady now, and I will not have her spoken to that way in this house.”

The massive man in the yellow shirt snickered darkly – in trying to protect Ranma, the gentle Kasumi had actually driven the knife home. “Of course. My apologies, Kasumi.” He turned back to Ranma with a sadistic jeer. “I am terribly sorry if I offended you, miss.”

He bowed emphatically, turned on his right heel, and exited back through the doorway to the side yard with an unmistakable bounce in his step.

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Ranma sat on her bedroll in the Tendo guest room, hugging her knees and resting her chin on them. Ryoga’s words echoed in her mind. He was such a jerk, but maybe he was right. He would be able to take care of Akane and the dojo in ways that she no longer could, and there was no denying he really cared about her. He’d intended to head out to the dojo to talk to Akane, probably to say as much or fall on his face trying, but that was twelve hours ago now. When he would actually show up was anyone’s guess.

She looked away from the doorway, where the current object of her dread hung. Though it was bright white and teal, to Ranma, it might as well have been the black shroud of Death itself.

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When “it” happened, Ranma had no choice but to stop going to school. Most of the school, for reasons that utterly escaped her, had never put two and two together about the nature of Ranma’s curse, and so suddenly showing up like this would have been, well, awkward. For months now, she had focused all of her time on finding another cure and resuming her life. So much for that now. Mr. Tendo and Kasumi, the de facto parents of the household since Genma was always too aloof to care, had apparently decided that it was time for Ranma to try to move on, to try to find a new normal somehow. To them, that meant returning to Furinkan for the upcoming school year. As a girl.

Everyone would know what had happened. Worse, because she missed so much time the year before, she would have to repeat her classes. If she were being honest with herself, she’d have known that was a risk anyway; a childhood spent traveling the world learning martial arts techniques had left her severely disadvantaged in academics. Akane would be an upperclassman to her now. Her own ridicule she could find a way to survive, but the thought of Akane being teased for having been engaged to a girl – let alone one who couldn’t even keep up with her class – turned her stomach like sour milk. The daily trial by combat for the right to date her would no doubt resume, and in her condition, Ranma would be able to do naught more than watch with the other twittering girls as Akane fought for her own hand. And then she’d graduate, and Ranma would be left there. Alone.

Kuno, who had graduated with Nabiki, was planning to stick around the school as an associate kendo instructor. Having your dad as the principal had its perks, apparently. Their family certainly didn’t need him to rush into a real job, and Kuno wasn’t leaving as long as he thought there was a chance with Akane. No doubt his hounding of her would be worse than ever now that the vile Saotome was no longer an obstacle.

Akane wouldn’t be the only girl he’d be chasing every day with free run of the school, either. Now that the “pig-tailed girl” was here to stay, there was no avoiding it. Only her martial arts prowess had protected her from his wandering hands before, but now? For a split second, the face of Mikado Sanzenin flashed in her mind. The feeling of being picked up against her will… kissed against her will. Ranma’s first kiss. Taken. Stolen. By a guy.

She swallowed hard, forcing herself to look back up at the doorway, where Nabiki’s hand-me-down Furinkan uniform hung pressed and ready. Ranma’s uniform, now. The first day of fall term was tomorrow. The last day of the life she knew was today. Ranma wondered if she could get away with calling out sick if only she gave in to the overwhelming urge to throw up.

Her further descent into despair was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Ranma? Can I come in?”

A quiet “I guess” was all she could manage.

The door slid open, and in stepped Akane, a concerned look on her face. “You didn’t come out to dinner. We’re all worried about you.”

Ranma buried her face in her knees. “I’m fine.”

Akane sighed with concern, crossing her ankles and dropping to sit beside her. “You’re not fine, Ranma. Everyone knows it. I know things are hard, but…”

Ranma exploded from her balled-up position, turning on her. “You know it’s hard? You don’t know anything. None of you do! None of you have ever had your whole identity snatched away in a blink. Everything you’ve ever done, erased. You don’t have the slightest idea what it feels like!”

Uncharacteristically, Akane responded not by riling her temper to meet Ranma’s, but with a soft hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “You’re right. We don’t. But we’re here for you anyway.”

Ranma recoiled, ashamed of herself for having snapped when Akane was just trying to help. She finally allowed herself to make eye contact, and in an instant, she knew what had to be done. For all her anger issues, all her un-cute mannerisms, Akane was a good and kind person. She deserved better than this. Better than she could give.

“Can I have a few minutes more alone, please?” Akane nodded, standing. “Of course. Whatever you need.” She exited through the door and slid it shut, pulling the dreaded school uniform back into Ranma’s view.

“To hell with this,” Ranma said under her breath, standing and making for her closet. She opened it, looking over its contents. After staying so long with the Tendos, she had accumulated more belongings, but not much of consequence. Her wardrobe was more girls’ clothes than guys’ at this point, the product of a combination of shenanigans pulled to get free octopus puffs or gain advantages in a fight, and Kasumi’s relentless determination over the last few months to get Ranma to embrace femininity. Ranma’s entire female persona had long been a sort of mask, like a Halloween costume she put on when it suited her needs. It was the only way she’d been able to make peace with it. Now, the mask was permanent, whether she wanted it or not, and the person she had once been was the one that felt more like a fantasy.

Avoiding the dresses and the ridiculous bunny suits, she stuffed a few days’ worth of relatively androgynous clothing and a map into her huge beige hiking backpack without bothering to fold either. She tightly wound her bedroll and strapped it to the top of the pack. Slinging it over one shoulder, she headed through the door toward the hall. Her pack pushed through the curtain of the hanging white and blue dress as she passed, and it fell to the floor. She saw no need to pick it up.

"I'm leaving."

Mr. Tendo leapt up from his shogi board. Ranma's father also looked up, but not before rearranging a few game pieces behind Soun's back. "What are you talking about? It's a school night." It was only then that Soun noticed the backpack. "Oh."

Ranma nodded. "You only asked us to stay here so I could marry one of your daughters, and well…" She gestured to her body, letting her form finish the sentence her words could not. "I don't even know who I am anymore, but I know I don't belong here."

Akane entered the dining room from the hallway, immediately taking in the gravity of the scene. Her hands flew to her lips in horror. "Ranma, no. You can't! You just can't leave! Where will you go? How will you… how will I…?"

Soun held up his hand, gesturing for Akane to stop. "Son, I know you are confused right now, but think this through. You know you will always be welcome here with us."

Genma, having finished his cheating and made his way into the room from the porch, clapped his hand roughly on her shoulder with a confident laugh. "Ranma, my boy, don't be rash! This will all blow over, I'm sure of it!"

With a shriek that sounded less like a battle kiai and more like a primal roar, Ranma grabbed the first thing she could reach and in one deft motion, swung and released. Soun managed to duck before his dining room table flew past his head. Genma was not so lucky.

"Don't you get it?! I'm not your son, and I'm not your boy. Not anymore, and I'm never gonna be again. Ever! This is it now. This is who I am and I hate it! I HATE IT!" She turned slightly to face her father as his head poked out from beneath the splintered furniture.

Her eyes flashed darkly and her chest heaved with every ounce of anger, and hurt, and fear, and everything else she’d put on a brave face and bottled up these last five months. "And YOU! You and your stupid training did this to me. You stole EVERYTHING from me! My life, my family…" Her voice cracked slightly, swallowing back her sadness. "Two families now. This is all your fault, old man, and I will NEVER forget it!"

Her breathing began to slow as her rage subsided. The furious expression on her face melted into one of broken emptiness, as if she had shot her whole heart out of her chest like a cannon and there was nothing left inside of her to fill the space. Kasumi and Nabiki watched from the kitchen door, transfixed but wordless. Akane started to approach, but Ranma’s hollow words froze her in her tracks.

"I just can't do this anymore. I'm sorry. Akane, I… I'm sorry."

Without another word, she snatched her bag from the floor, slinging it over her shoulder as she ran. She sprinted through the side door and vaulted high over the wall into the street beyond. Akane burst through the front door in pursuit, but the smaller girl was far too fast and had too great a head start. "RANMA, WAIT! Come back!"

Ranma did not turn. She just kept running. She had to. She had one shred of dignity left, and she was determined not to lose it.

Akane would not see her cry.