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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. She had been like this for weeks, living in a 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 she’d punish me and force me to marry Xian Pu, Ranma thought. Boy, did that plan backfire.

Ranma replayed it in her thoughts for what must have been the millionth time. All of it. The old witch sneaking up from behind, a little poke with her walking stick, and that was that. Xian Pu’s grandmother had triggered the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue pressure point. Ever since, every nerve in Ranma’s body was turned up to maximum volume, and the slightest touch anywhere on Ranma’s skin 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 Cat’s Tongue meant the sensation of temperature was amplified too, and that meant hot water was utterly intolerable on her skin.

Of course, the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue wasn’t Ranma’s first curse. No, before that, there had been Jusenkyo - a little backwater training ground in northwestern China, in the Qinghai province. It was a little, hidden place with a huge secret: its many cursed springs. Each of the little pools of water had seen some manner of creature drown in it over the millennia. Upon falling into one of them, any unwitting victim would be doomed to take the form of the last being to drown in that particular spring whenever they got wet. Both Ranma and his father had been afflicted when they had gone there to practice aerial combat. In the case of Ranma’s father, it was a giant panda, and in Ranma’s… well, she saw the result every time she looked in the mirror and remembered the boy she used to be.

She would retake her natural form if splashed with warm water, but only until the next time she encountered cold or room-temperature liquid. Going back to being a guy sounded so easy - just a tea kettle away - and yet, the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue made it entirely unbearable to consider. That was the true torture of the situation - knowing she could have her old body back any time she wanted it; all she would have to do is endure feeling as if every cell of her skin was being burned alive.

She’d tried. For days, she tried to force herself to suffer through it. It’ll only hurt for a minute, she thought, but how wrong she was. Once, Ranma’s father had held her down so she couldn’t escape the kettle on reflex, and Mr. Tendo poured it over her head. She changed back into her original masculine form, but the searing agony of the warm liquid on her hypersensitive skin felt as if she were being boiled like a lobster.

After two minutes that felt like an eternity, Akane had burst into the bathroom and doused her fiancé with a bucket of cold water, bringing an end to the burning sensation ravaging his skin, but also rendering Ranma’s suffering meaningless as her girlish form returned. Akane knew that Ranma didn’t want her to intervene, but she couldn’t just stand outside the bathroom door and listen to him scream any longer.

Ranma, upon coming to terms with the fact that enduring the curse of Jusenkyo and the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue combined was unbearable, eventually relented and accepted Koh Lon’s terms, agreeing to train with her. The old witch had demanded that Ranma learn the powerful Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire technique to prove her worthiness to marry her granddaughter - regardless of the fact that Ranma had no interest in doing so. After weeks of practice, and countless hours of unspeakable pain, Ranma had finally mastered the art of punching at sufficient speed to snatch a chestnut from a flame without being burned. She just had to prove it.

Her mind flashed back to that mountain in the snow, Koh Lon balancing precariously on the end of her walking stick, dangling Ranma’s salvation – a little pink vial 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 had happened since her visit to the training grounds of 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. Utilizing the powerful technique she’d mastered, she snatched time and time again for her objective at superhuman speed, but Xian Pu’s grandmother kept pace. Ranma winced as the heat of the fire prickled at her skin, but she had to try and put it out of her mind; the end was in sight. She was moving too fast to be burned, but the Full-Body Cat’s Tongue’s sensitivity made even the ambient warmth of the fire all but unbearable. Ranma swung wide with her right arm, forcing her adversary to lean closer to dodge. As Koh Lon drew closer, Ranma rocketed her left arm forward and felt her fingers strike porcelain. She clenched her fist and pulled back, breaking the thin chain that held the tiny ampule around the witch’s wrist. All she had to do was swallow the Phoenix Pill within, and…

“Saotome!”

So focused was Ranma on her objective that she had failed to notice the slender man in the white robe ascending the slope to her left. In an instant, as she turned her eyes to the man screaming her name, a barrage of chains bearing blades, claws, and a wooden duck, for some reason, rained down toward her from the voluminous sleeves of her assailant’s robes.

“I will not allow this! Xian Pu is mine!”

Ranma lifted her left 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 Koh Lon 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. Akane’s elder sister Nabiki, who’d just graduated from Furinkan High, took her to a college she was applying to in the Minato district to help her try and use something called the outer - no, inter - …web? Net? Anyway, it was supposed to be, you typed your question in the computer and it would find 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. Her father’s ancient martial arts master had 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! I came the minute I heard!”

It was months ago, asshole. She looked up from the dining room table into the open doorway and recognized the silhouette of Ryoga Hibiki against the rising sun. Ranma said nothing. Maybe he came in friendship? I sure could use a friend these days, she thought hopefully. They were frenemies at best, but they’d generally been there for each other when it really counted. She hadn’t seen Ryoga in months, not since before “it” happened, but that wasn’t especially surprising. It wasn’t at all uncommon for him to get lost for months at a time; indeed, their rivalry had only begun when Ryoga issued a challenge over a lunchroom disagreement and then arrived at the designated location for the fight several days late.

“So, it’s true then?”

Ranma could only manage a sullen nod.

“And that means…”

Ranma gave another sullen nod, looking away just in time to miss the toothy grin beginning 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 fiancée.

Her melancholy quickly gave way to fury. How dare he gloat, 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 Akane 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!" It never failed to rile Ryoga up when Ranma brought up his own secret Jusenkyo curse, and how it transformed him into the little black swine that Akane had taken to considering an on-again, off-again pet.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

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 be ashamed of yourself! Ranma is a lady now, and I will not have her spoken to that way in this house!”

The massive young man in the yellow shirt snickered darkly – in trying to protect Ranma, the elder of Akane’s two sisters 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." Ryoga 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 through her black gi pants. 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 Ranma no longer could. Despite the arrangement between Ranma’s father and Mr. Tendo, merging their families and the two branches of the Anything-Goes Martial Arts tradition through their marriage no longer seemed a viable option. Ryoga had intended to head out to the dojo to talk to Akane, probably to finally admit how much he cared about her, or - more likely - fall on his face trying, but that was twelve hours ago. When - or if - 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.

When “it” happened, Ranma had no choice but to stop going to school. Most of her schoolmates, for reasons that utterly escaped her, had never put two and two together about the nature of Ranma’s gender-swapping curse, and so suddenly showing up in her current form 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. Mr. Tendo and Kasumi, the de facto parents of the household since Ranma’s father Genma was always too aloof to care, had apparently decided that it was time for Ranma to try to move on, and to try to find a new normal somehow. To them, that meant returning to Furinkan High for the upcoming school term. As a girl.

Everyone would know what had happened. Worse, because she had 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 Akane would no doubt resume, and in her condition, Ranma would be able to do naught more than stand there in her dress and 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.

Tatewaki 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. His wealthy 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, considering that the vile Ranma Saotome could no longer be 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 mysterious pigtailed girl Kuno was equally infatuated with was here to stay, there was no avoiding it. Only Ranma’s superior martial arts prowess had protected her from his wandering hands before, but without it? 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. It still gave her nightmares from time to time, and just thinking about it made her skin crawl.

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 she could pretend to cling to 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 of the unfurnished guest room. “Ranma? Can I come in?”

A quiet “I guess” was all the sullen girl sitting on the bedroll could get out.

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

Ranma buried her face in her knees, hugging her legs tight. “I’m fine.”

Akane sighed with concern, crossing her ankles and dropping to sit beside her betrothed on the floor. “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 raising 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 the uncertainty of Ranma’s new reality. Better than Ranma 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 muttered under her breath, standing and making for her closet. She opened it, looking over its contents. After staying so long with the Tendo family, 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 accept her femininity. Ranma’s entire female persona had long been a sort of mask, like a Halloween costume she could 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 boy she had once been was the one that felt more like a fantasy.

Avoiding the dresses and the ridiculous bunny suits, Ranma 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 formed by 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 resolutely. "You only asked me and Pop 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 can't just 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, made his way into the dining room from the porch and 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, her chest heaving with every shred of anger, and hurt, and fear, and everything else she’d put on a brave face and bottled up for the 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 over the garden 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.