With a proud smile, Ranko handed Akane a large black bowl containing still-steaming seasoned pork over a bed of long-grain rice. “Dinner is served, love.”

She took off the black vinyl apron she wore, hanging it on a nail she’d put through the inside of the pantry door. She regretted that she couldn’t wear something cuter on the nights Akane was home; the heavy work apron made her feel like a fishmonger. When she was dealing with hot water, the bane of her feminine existence, resistance to liquids was infinitely more important than appearances, though. A pretty girl in a black apron was still way cuter than a screaming boy in an ill-fitting, soaking wet dress. She couldn’t help but blush every time she found herself regretting not being cuter for Akane. She’d never pictured wanting to be cute for anyone, least of all the biggest tomboy she knew, but something about it felt right to her, especially lately. Akane had made her feel more feminine of late than anything Izumi had done to her, and a part of Ranko wanted her to enjoy the fruits of her efforts.

Akane pulled a bit of pork free from the bowl of butadon with her chopsticks and popped it into her mouth, leaning back in her chair with a quiet moan of contentment. “Ranko, you are getting so good at this stuff. My gods.”

Ranko blushed, flashing a big smile. She had burned the hell out of the pork four times when learning the dish in her home studies class, but she had nailed it when it counted. Hana’s tip to marinate the meat first so it had more moisture to protect it during the cooking process had made all the difference. “I’m glad you like it. I mean, I’ll never be Kasumi, but…”

Akane swallowed awkwardly at the mention of her eldest sister’s name, sitting up a little. “Uhh…”

Ranko swallowed a piece of pork, looking her over, her chopsticks still dangling over her bowl and dripping with a bit of fragrant broth. “Are you okay?”

Looking down, Akane nodded. “I, um, I’m good, yeah.” She hid her face behind her black miso bowl.

Setting down her own bowl with a louder clink of ceramic on ceramic than she’d intended, Ranko looked across their tiny dining room table at her. A flash of concern crossed her face. “Seriously, Akane. What’s this all about? Talk to me.”

Akane tried to smile. “So, I heard from Kasumi today.” She used her chopsticks to fidget with the rice in her bowl, mostly in the hopes of giving her eyes somewhere to go.

Ranko smiled. She really did miss Akane’s sisters. Kasumi more than Nabiki, admittedly. But Nabiki was the only one she’d seen since leaving their home almost a year to the day ago. “Yeah? How’s she doing? Has Dr. Tofu finally worked up the nerve to ask her out yet?”

Akane set her chopsticks down with a quiet sigh. “She’s good, Ran-chan. Real good. And, not yet.”

Ranko sighed and nodded with understanding, resting her chopsticks along the rim of her bowl. “And you haven’t told her about us yet.”

Akane reached over the table, taking Ranko’s hand in her own and giving it a little squeeze. “I can’t. You know I can’t. If I do, our fathers will find out, and who knows what happens after that?” She looked up at her beloved, a guilty expression painting her face.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

“We can’t hide it from them forever. And I do want forever with you.” Ranko sighed, leaning down to the level of the table and resting her forehead on Akane’s hand in hers.

Nodding, Akane sighed heavily. “I know, Ranko. I do too. But what happens then? Your dad shows up here, my dad… who even knows what he’ll do? For all we know, Happosai shows up on our doorstep.”

Ranko sighed. “I know. I’m worried about that too, and I’m perfectly okay never seeing Pop again. But… I just…” She lifted her head slightly, kissing the back of Akane’s hand.

Akane reached over with her other hand, stroking Ranko’s wavy hair down her back over her lavender dress. “I know.”

“I thought the whole point of you taking the dojo from Pop was so we didn’t have to sneak around anymore.” Ranko sighed sadly, nuzzling into Akane’s hand on the table as her scalp was rubbed.

“I did that so they’d stop waiting for Ranma to come home. But as for the fact that I’m with a woman now – any woman, let alone you – that’s gonna be a whole other conversation for them.”

“And why do we care what they think again?” Ranko sat up, fidgeting with her hair idly.

“They’re still my family, Ranko. I love them.” Akane shook her head. “Your new family is supportive of us, but my dad… You know how set in his ways he is. I’m sorry.”

“So, I guess I’m not cooking for three, then. That’s a bummer. I bet she’d be really proud of me. You’re going to cancel with Kasumi, then?” Ranko tried to sound chipper, but she really didn’t do a very convincing job of it.

“Actually, baby, not exactly.” Akane smiled thinly, trying to put as gentle of a touch on the hammer about to fall on her lover as possible.

“So, how do you figure this is gonna happen, then?” Ranko looked over at her love sadly, not much caring that the special meal that she’d spent a week learning to make was rapidly cooling.

“I can’t hide here forever. They’ll eventually suspect something’s wrong and show up unannounced. So we need to let her come. You understand, right?”

Ranko bit her lip sadly. “So, what, I have to hide in the bedroom and not make any noise while Kasumi’s here?”

Akane cringed, squeezing her hand. “It honestly might be easier if you weren’t home at all. Maybe have dinner with your sisters or the guys in the band?”

Ranko nodded slowly, pursing her lips. “I get it.”

Akane stood, sighing in frustration. “Ranko, don’t be like that! We may not like it, but you know this is what’s best.”

“Do I?” Ranko sighed. She stood and walked over to their little refrigerator, opening and placing her bowl in it uncovered.. She’d lost her appetite all of a sudden, but they really couldn’t afford to be wasteful.

“I mean, I hope you do.” Akane walked around the table, trying to put her hand on Ranko’s shoulder, but Ranko stepped out of her reach. “I just want to do what’s best for us. We don’t need all that drama in our lives again.”

“Yeah, I guess not.” Ranko hung her head. Why can’t Akane see how proud I am to be with her? How could anyone even try to hide something as colossal as the way we feel about each other?

Ranko turned her back to Akane, turning the sink on its coldest setting, pulling the sprayer nozzle out of its little socket at the back right corner of the sink, and beginning to rinse the pots from dinner.

“Hey.” Akane walked up behind her, putting her hands on her girlfriend’s hips. “Don’t be mad, Ranko. Please?”

Ranko turned her head, putting on the biggest smile she could manage. Maybe Akane was right, but it broke her heart anyway. She had worked so hard to become the kind of person anyone could love, and harder still to earn Akane’s love and trust. She wanted to shout it from the rooftops, and it killed her that no one in Akane’s life except Nabiki knew about this amazing thing they had built together. But, Akane was doing what she thought was right, and probably didn’t deserve her anger. She wasn’t even sure if she was angry, but she was definitely hurt.

She affected her voice into a higher register, trying to sound gentle and saccharine, just like Kasumi usually did. “Oh, I’m not mad, Akane. I just want to make sure the house is spotless for your guests. That’s what a good partner does, right?”