Ranko rolled her eyes, throwing her hands up. “Come on, Akane! Are you gonna spar, or what?”
Akane shrugged in frustration, kicking at the grass with her bare right foot. “I can’t.”
The redhead groaned. “How are you supposed to keep up your skills if you don’t train?” True, Ranko hadn’t been training either, but she could forget half of what she knew and still be a pretty gifted fighter. Plus, she wasn’t anywhere near as invested in it as she once had been.
Akane reached out, tucking the tip of her middle finger behind her thumb. She shook her wrist once to build momentum and flicked Ranko on the shoulder. Ranko yelped, rubbing her arm. “Hey! That hurt!”
Akane nodded. “Exactly. How am I supposed to spar with you when I know I’ll hurt you?”
Ranko dropped out of her fighting stance, putting her hands in her pockets with a furtive sigh. “You’re supposed to trust that I’m good enough to defend myself and come at me anyway. I know the risks I’m signing up for when I spar with you.”
Akane scoffed lightly. “Oh, that’s rich, coming from you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Ranko stepped forward defensively.
With her fists on her hips, Akane leaned forward until her face was just centimeters from Ranko’s. She put a mocking twinge in her voice as she responded. “I. Don’t. Hit. Girls.”
“Don’t be stupid, Akane! We’re both girls now. It’s different.” Ranko stepped back.
“Is it, Ranko? Tell me. Why wouldn’t you hit a girl before?” Akane crossed her arms.
Ranko’s face took on a thoughtful expression. “Well, it ain’t polite.”
“Why not?”
The redhead shrugged, as if exasperated to have to explain so simple a concept. “Because it ain’t right for guys to hit girls, that’s all.”
She blushed a bit. It had never occurred to her before that when she accessed the thoughts and memories of her time as a boy, her speech patterns tended to change. She was more crass, used more slang. As a girl, she was generally more proper and eloquent. Gods help me, I’m becoming a lady, she thought with a mental cringe.
Akane stepped forward. “And why not? Go on, Ranko. Say it.”
Ranko thought for a moment, her mouth falling open with the mind-bending realization of what Akane was trying to make her understand. “Because… they’re weaker.”
“And now? You are the weaker of us, because of the Cat’s Tongue. But ask yourself - how does it feel to have someone refuse to spar with you because they think you’re too weak to defend yourself?”
Ranko let her legs fall out from under her and she plopped down into the grass. The epiphany had literally floored her. She’d always considered what she was doing to be chivalry. Politeness. She’d never considered that to Akane, it had felt like chauvinism. And now that she was on the receiving end, now that she’d had her share of life experiences that had put her in the position of feeling lesser because she was now a woman, she was truly disgusted with herself.
“Akane, I… I never realized that’s how it felt. I never meant to insult you. Never. I thought I was doing it because I cared. I… I’m so sorry.”
Akane offered Ranko a hand up to her feet and then wrapped her in a hug. “I know. It’s how you were trained. It’s how that asshole panda raised you. I forgive you. But it’s important that you understand. That’s how it keeps happening, when we do what our parents taught us and don’t ask ourselves whether it’s right or not.”
Ranko bobbed her head. “You’re right. I really am sorry, Akane. I never meant it like that, I swear.”
Akane smiled disarmingly. “I know, baby. You, of all guys, I was pretty sure would eventually figure out how it felt to be a girl.”
With a sly smirk, Akane dropped into a tiger stance. “Now, get your hands up. I don’t wanna mess up that pretty face of yours.”
For a few moments, the pair traded blows, Akane always pulling her punches at the last second to keep from hurting the woman she loved. She did finally land a solid one, and Ranko rubbed her arm with a wince, motioning for a break.
“You good?” Akane walked over gingerly.
“Sure. Stings a little, but it’ll be okay in a minute.” Ranko gave her a smile. “Nice one, sensei.”
Akane smiled at the word. She couldn’t deny, after all her training, after all the times she’d been put down for being a girl and a martial artist at the same time, it felt good. “You know, you’re right, Ranko. I think I’m gonna do it.”
Ranko sat on a green rubber-coated steel bench in the little grassy patch behind their apartment building. Having no other gi to train in, she wore the red silk shirt and black gi pants that were once all but her uniform. Ranko smiled a little wistfully. “I’m glad. I’m proud of you, you know.”
Akane nodded, walking the two steps to the bench and putting her arm around Ranko’s back. “It’s gonna be hard for you, though, isn’t it?” Man, she wished Ranko would get rid of that outfit. It reminded them both too much of what she once was. When Ranko wore that shirt, Akane had to try hard to remember not to call her Ranma out of habit.
“It’s not for me. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine, love.” Ranko leaned her cheek into Akane’s hip, nuzzling her gently. It did bother her, but not in any way that would be Akane’s responsibility to correct. “I believe in you, sensei, and I would be honored to be your first disciple.”
Akane pursed her lips quietly. Ranko didn’t like to talk about it, but Akane knew how much she missed martial arts. She didn’t want it to define her life like it used to, but she didn’t even get to spar anymore, really. They both feared her skills would eventually atrophy from disuse. Akane had seriously considered giving it up as well, just so as not to have to do it in Ranko’s face and remind her of what she lost, but Ranko would not hear of it. You worked just as hard for this as I did, and you shouldn’t lose it just because something happened to me, she’d always say. Akane admired how brave she’d been when it came to letting it go, because it had once been such a huge part of her identity. Just like so many others Ranko’d had to leave behind to become who she was now: the girl Akane loved.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.
Akane smiled. “Then I guess the Minato chapter of the Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts is going to happen!”
Ranko cringed. “Could we please not use that name?”
“That’s the only one I’m technically in charge of. And that, only because you don’t want it.” She sighed.
“Yeah,” Ranko mused, “but you’re at least a master of the Tendo School. So you can use that. You can call it whatever else you want, too, just please let that name go.” Ranko looked up at her with a slight smile, her cheek still resting on Akane’s hip. “Besides, even if the school were mine, it would still be yours, because I am.”
Akane nodded, thinking for a moment. “Okay. Let’s go with the Unified School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts, then. Combine the schools like we always meant to.”
The redhead looked down at her hands, sighing heavily with a resolved nod. “Sure.”
“Ranko?” Akane sat on the bench next to her, rubbing her lover back gently through her sweaty silk shirt. “What’s on your mind?”
“Can’t you just… not do that?” Ranko looked up, rolling her eyes at a duck that walked through the little park in search of bread crumbs and idly rubbing the raised etching of the dragon coiled around her left wrist.
“But, it’s your legacy. It has to be honored even if the two schools merge.” Akane leaned over, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.
“I guess. You just… you don’t understand.” Ranko rubbed her arm idly where she’d been punched, speaking in a sullen undertone.
“Ranko, baby, this is important to me. And I can tell it’s important to you. If something about this is bothering you, I don’t want to not hear about it until it’s too late to do something about it. Please tell me?” Akane pursed her lips in worry. This is why I didn’t do this before.
“It ain’t my legacy, okay? It never was.” Ranko stood, pulling gently out of Akane’s arms and pacing a bit in the grass. “I mean, it’s not like fifty generations of Saotomes passed this down or nothin’. My pop learned it from the old freak, same as yours.”
Akane nodded, loosening the belt of her gi slightly. “But still, you trained hard for it, and you deserve that to be honored.”
Ranko shook her head, raising her voice slightly and stomping her foot emphatically. “No, I don’t. Nothing about it deserves to be honored, Akane! I mean, look at you. You learned from your dad, right? And you got to have a house, and a family, and friends, and school… only one crazy arranged marriage to a jerk fiance…” Here, she did manage to crack a little smile. “Balance, right? Isn’t that what martial arts is supposed to be all about?
“And even though I did all that training, all that torture, for all those years, sure, maybe I know a couple more random, obscure techniques I’ll never use, and that I could easily teach you, but am I that much better of a martial artist than you for it? Not really, no! And in trade, I had to give up my whole life. The training methods of the Saotome School killed the only student the school ever had, Akane!
“But, that’s not gonna be how it goes with you. Starting now, you’re gonna have students. And they’re gonna have students. And they’re gonna have students. And whatever you decide to do right now is gonna be at the root of that tree forever, and it’s gonna have your… our… name on it. Please don’t put that poison into it. Don’t taint your legacy with that rot for my sake. Like you said, let’s stop doing stuff just because our parents thought it was a good idea. I don’t need it, and I don’t want it. I’m begging you. Just let it go, baby. Please.”
Akane nodded with a smile, standing. She understood. She knew what she had to do. She raised her left palm to face Ranko’s, slapping it with her right. “C’mere. Let me see you punch.”
Ranko groaned dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Really?”
Akane snapped back sternly. “Hey! Am I your sensei, or not? I said, let me see you punch!”
Blinking, Ranko walked within range of her girlfriend, a curious look on her face. “Umm, okay…”
Ranko balled her right hand into a fist, throwing it half-heartedly at Akane’s palm. At the last instant before their hands collided, Akane dropped her arm, letting the punch connect with her ribs. It was a glancing blow at maybe a quarter of Ranko’s strength, but Akane crumpled to the ground with a loud groan as if she’d been shot.
“Akane?! Are you okay? I didn’t think I hit you that hard…” Ranko offered Akane a hand, which she took and got to her feet. She didn’t appear injured in any way. This was really starting to get weird.
Walking to a small patch of damp dirt a meter or so away, Akane picked up a mossy stick that had fallen from a nearby tree, scratching a few lines into the wet soil. Ranko craned her neck to see what she was doing, but couldn’t really get a clear look.
Finishing her work, Akane turned, bowing deeply to her girlfriend. “I yield. You have defeated me. In accordance with tradition, the Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts is yours. Here is the sign of my dojo.” She rose from the bow, motioning to the scratches in the dirt, the serious expression on her face replaced by one of love and support.
Ranko shook her head in disbelief. “Are you serious with this?” There was no way that could be classified as a real challenge. For one, she’d never issued one, and for another, that was nowhere close to a real fight. Ranko knew that, because as sad as it made her to think about it, she knew she’d never stand a chance of beating a fighter of Akane’s caliber in a fair fight again. “It’s cute what you’re trying to do, and all, but…”
Akane held up her hand to hush her girlfriend. “Ranko, I mean it. It’s yours, as it always should have been. This shouldn’t be my decision. We’re a team, you and me, but this is from before our time together. Before Ranko’s time. Deciding what to do with it isn’t my place. It belongs to you by right. And now that it’s yours, you can do whatever you want with it.” I won’t erase your legacy, Ran… Ranma. But you can, if that’s really what you want.
Ranko nodded, her eyes widening a bit with the sudden realization of what Akane was giving her the opportunity to do. She bit her lip, looking down at the damp patch of soil, a tear welling in the corner of her eye. “You… you mean it? You think?”
Akane nodded. “Whatever you think is best, Ranko. I support you.”
So, this is how it ends. Here, in a little strip of grass behind a parking lot, where Mr. Gao takes his dog out to do his business.
Ranko reached out, taking Akane’s hand for strength, and put her foot down on the little spot of dirt, just to the left of the topmost kanji her girlfriend had scratched into the earth. It may be mine to do, but we’re still doing it together, Akane. For both of us. For our legacy.
“I… Ranko Tendo, hereby… disband the Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts.”
With a flick of her ankle, the word Saotome vanished into the dirt.