Akane stared forward blankly, mindlessly fiddling with the strap of the brown school satchel that lay across her lap. Her mind raced with the new reality of the last few days. Not only had she learned, after months of worry, that Ranma was alive, but that he - she - was actually thriving! When she had last seen Ranma, that night at the dojo, she was dangerously depressed at the idea of having to live life as a woman. She had literally been concerned that Ranma would try to hurt herself. And here she was, with a closet full of dresses, singing onstage for strangers! And happy about it! It was almost beyond comprehension.
She looked up, just for a moment, as she felt the brakes of the bus release with a loud hiss. The vehicle lurched forward, direly in need of maintenance as it was, but Akane was already lost in her thoughts again. What would she say when she got home? She couldn’t tell anyone at home about Ranma – Ranko, she mentally admonished herself. Only Nabiki knew where she was, and she had made it abundantly clear that she didn’t want the circle getting wider. Their fathers and Happosai were definitely out, and nothing good would come of Ranma’s old frenemies or suitors knowing where to find her. Ranko had briefly considered entrusting Ukyo and Kasumi, but she couldn’t be completely sure Ukyo wouldn’t involve herself somehow, and Kasumi would have innocently spilled the beans within a week. Akane decided it best to tell a nugget of truth - she went to visit a girl she went to school with last year, who moved to Tokyo before the start of the new semester. She’d probably need to come up with a name in case further questions were asked, she thought. She smirked, imagining that this was the same sort of delicate dancing around the truth upon which Ranko had built her backstory.
But more importantly, what now? She had told herself before she left home last night that she was going to see Ranma one last time. She would see for herself that he was alright, give him an earful for leaving like that, and say her goodbyes. Her plan lasted until they made eye contact, and then everything else faded and Akane was just glad to see her again. It was so good to have seen her so happy.
Even before the whole thing with the Phoenix Pill, Ranma had always been a little disconnected. He’d never really seemed comfortable in his own skin, and Akane guessed it had started about the time a certain cursed spring in China gave him an alternate skin to wear. He kept everyone at arm’s length, and didn’t ever really want to talk about his feelings. After having spent so much of his childhood traveling alone with the father of the century that Genma was, Akane doubted Ranma had ever really learned how.
This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
She’d never shared it with her sisters, but Akane had often wondered in their time apart if Ranma would have stayed if she could have found a way to be more supportive. If Ranma hadn’t felt like he was going through everything alone. But now, she was almost glad Ranma left. Had he – she, Akane mentally corrected herself again – stayed, she’d likely have remained in that dark place, with everyone constantly reminding her that something was wrong with her that would never be fixed. She would never have had the chance to build a new life while trapped in her old one. Akane didn’t like it, but she understood.
And her new life, wow. Her new wardrobe? New mannerisms? Working in a bar, with two other girls that called her their sister? Learning to cook? Singing? In public? Who was this person? Was it even still Ranma? The ever-present cocky attitude was gone, and instead there was equal parts quiet confidence and timidity. The alpha-male rudeness had given way to kindness and consideration. Everything that had made her want to punch Ranma before had been replaced by something softer. Something sweeter.
She smiled as she thought of the way it had felt to be taken care of, even if it was something as simple as a fried egg and a bowl of rice. She had been raised to expect that everything domestic in a relationship would fall to her as a function of her gender whether she had any talent for it or not. There was a constant pressure to master all of this stuff if she ever hoped to have a real relationship, and try though she might, some things she knew she just wasn’t cut out for. She shook her head, remembering all the times Ranma had gotten sick eating things she’d tried to cook, and how it always made her worry that no one would ever want to marry her.
She blushed, remembering the rush she got when she peeked as Ranko changed. She’d never experienced that in all the many times she’d seen Ranma’s body, in either form. Why now, when she was all but permanently female? What did that say about her? She’d never felt that way about another girl before. She hadn’t felt that way about anyone at all since the brief crush she had on Dr. Tofu.
She doubted Ranko felt the same way, not after everything. Ranko was barely in a position to understand herself, let alone relationships with anyone else. She wouldn’t dare tell Ranko; it would just be embarrassing for them both, and an unnecessary complication in a life Ranko was desperately trying to simplify for herself. But she couldn’t deny it. What if she felt it the next time they saw each other? She couldn’t just not go back, after all. Maybe it was best to just pretend not to feel it. She could try to ignore it until it disappeared. But, as wrong as it felt to Akane, it felt right, too.
Her introspection was interrupted by a tinny chime overhead. “Now arriving, Nerima Station.” The brakes squeaked to a stop, and Akane stood, shouldering her bag. Figuring out the future would have to wait for now.