At your request, a recap of the events in this timeline:
Ranma and Ryoga were fighting as usual, when Ranma hit his head on a rock in the koi pond. Ryoga thought he had caught Ranma’s hand to prevent the fall, which looked nasty, but that was not the case.
Ryoga, despondent because of Akane’s ire, visited Ranma. Once Ranma woke up, she babbled seemingly incoherently, then kissed him in full view of Nabiki. Because of some quick thinking and a lot of luck, Ryoga managed to keep this a secret from all but Nabiki and Ukyo. The last thing he wants is Akane to know anything about this!
Nabiki observed that Ranma is very different from the Ranma she knows and l-... well, okay... tolerates... when she talked to Ranma that night.
Ranma taunted Kuno in new and ingenious ways, namely with his hair. (Don’t ask, just read.)
Akane noticed the alteration in Ranma as well, calling this new Ranma ‘sneaky’, or maybe it’s that he’s more mature?
CHAPTER SIX: 1998
Advice from a Tendo
When Akane saw that they were passing through the park, her worries began. When they reached the door to the Cat Cafe, they multiplied.
“Hang tight, Akane,” Ranma said. “I gotta ask
Akane hovered nervously. Inside, she could see Shampoo sweeping the floor; several customers were placidly sipping soup and dining on Chinese delicacies.
Akane reflected back to her last encounter with Shampoo. It had been
humiliating, to say the least. Not only had Shampoo denigrated her and her
family with her insults, but she denigrated all weak, stupid Japanese women,
followed closely by all of
“Er... I’ll just stay out here,” she finally replied. “Unless... it’s what a friend would do?”
Ranma smiled at her and placed a gentle hand atop Akane’s head, for all the world like he was a teacher and Akane was a slow pupil who’d finally caught on. “You’re a sweetheart, Akane. You don’t have to, though. There are a couple of shops you could look at, or something.” Ranma disappeared into the Nekohanten with a smile and a jaunty wave.
Akane flushed, first from anger and then from embarrassment. I’m a sweetheart? She paced back and forth, not quite knowing what she wanted to do. Something felt wrong about leaving Ranma alone at this time; but she also didn’t want to get trounced, which was undoubtedly what would happen if she entered the cafe. She settled for peering through the windows by some convenient hedges.
As Akane watched, Cologne and Shampoo were having some kind of heated discussion. Eventually, Shampoo nodded submissively and headed up the stairs, presumably to her room. Akane blinked. For some reason, Ranma didn’t want Shampoo to hear the question he had for Cologne, or Cologne didn’t want her great-granddaughter to hear it.
He didn’t have a problem with my being there... Akane thought speculatively. I wonder why?
Several minutes passed by, with Ranma speaking, Cologne looking surprised, confused, and grim by turns. Although Akane crouched very close to the glass window, she could not hear a word that either of them were saying. She began to wish she’d followed her erstwhile-fiancee into the Neko, but was too embarrassed to come in now. For a minute, she stood by the door, her hand pressed against the wood.
All of a sudden, the sound returned to the scene before Akane; but all she saw was Cologne laughing as hard as she’d ever seen the old woman laugh, looking like she was about to fall off of that stick of hers. Ranma, by contrast, was waiting with a long-suffering patience. Whatever the joke was, Ranma didn’t seem to appreciate it.
“So that’s it,” Cologne said, finally regaining her legendary poise. “If it weren’t so completely out of character, I’d swear you must be joking.”
“Gee, thanks,” Ranma said, with all appearance of sincerely. “You make me feel ever so much better about the whole business.”
A moment or two later, Ranma emerged and moved unerringly for where Akane was crouched in the bushes. “Hiya,” he said gently.
Akane jumped. “Well... h-how’d you do that, anyway? I only heard the tail end of that conversation...”
“I used my chi to put a dampener around myself and the old ghoul,” Ranma replied casually. “It worked like soundproofing. Even people at the next table couldn’t hear us. Sorry.”
Akane shrugged uncomfortably. “Don’t apologize to me because I couldn’t eavesdrop on you well enough. Did... did talking to her help?”
“All she said was that I should get Nabiki to help me, that I needed someone devious and inexperienced.”
“Nabiki? But what can she do?”
“I dunno. But she’s still the smartest person close enough to tell,” Ranma replied.
“Hey!”
“No offense, Akane. She’s smarter than me, too.”
Akane subsided into grumbling. “Why do I feel like I’m following after you today? You keep doing these unexpected...” Akane’s voice trailed off as she caught sight of a familiar figure. “Ryoga!”
Ranma froze. “Aw, shit,” he moaned quietly.
Akane did not hear him. “I’m gonna go get that jerk for leaving us just when we needed help!” she cried, and took after the bandanna’d boy like a shot.
“Akane, no!” Ranma called.
It was too late. Akane had reached Ryoga; Ryoga was being led back to Ranma. The bandanna’d boy’s posture was hunched and apologetic as Akane obviously was berating him the moment he’d appeared.
“Ranma,” Ryoga greeted cautiously.
Ranma’s body untensed. “Yeah, hi,” he replied morosely, surrendering himself to the chaos that was indubitably about to ensue.
Akane blinked, glancing back and forth between the two boys. She wasn’t the best judge of mood, but she wasn’t blind, either. “Did something happen?”
Ryoga shook his head wildly. “N-no. Nothing! Nothing whatsover happened! Right, Ranma?”
Ranma’s eyebrows lifted. “Uh... oookay.”
“What the hell is up with the hair?” Ryoga demanded, suddenly catching sight of Ranma’s long, flowing locks.
“Geez!” Ranma exclaimed. “It ain’t that big a deal. Give me that knife you keep in your pack.”
“The knife I...?”
Ranma had already moved behind Ryoga, and was sorting through the Lost Boy’s ever-present pack, tossing things left and right.
“Wait. Huh?” Ryoga demanded, attempting to twist around to see what Ranma was doing behind him. Since Ranma was reaching into Ryoga’s pack, the pair danced entertainingly enough to make Akane forget their troubles for just a moment and grin.
“Ah ha!” Ranma announced, after removing a spare umbrella, a coat rack, a leisure suit and a rubber duck. He flicked open a medium-sized bright silver blade, decisively grabbed his long hair in one hand, and pulled.
“Ranma!” Akane exclaimed, but before she could move – or decide what she was going to do once she reached the long-haired martial artist – Ranma was holding a long, streaming mass of shiny, black hair in one hand.
“Whew! That’s much better,” Ranma announced, running his hands through his now-short hair to release the curl. “Hmm, I kinda like how it feels. Maybe I’ll keep it this way.”
Ranma handed the blade back to Ryoga. “Thanks.”
By now, Ryoga had realized that there was something wrong with the normally-pigtailed martial artist. “Uhh...” he murmured. “No... no problem.” Staring openly at the other boy, Ryoga tucked all the items back into his pack.
“Wow, Ryoga,” Akane breathed. “I didn’t know you could do that. Sort of like Mousse...”
“And you, with that mallet,” Ranma tacked on, sticking his tongue out at the youngest Tendo.
“Ranma, don’t treat Akane like that!” Ryoga ordered automatically.
“Akane knows I’m just teasing her,” Ranma defended, wrapping a casual arm around Akane’s waist. “You do know that, right, Akane?”
Akane nodded dumbly, flushing bright red.
“The way I tease you,” Ranma tacked on, turning his attention to the Lost Boy. “That’s how I’m friendly with folks, you know?”
“That’s how you’re... what!” Ryoga demanded.
“Friends,” Ranma repeated gamely. “You know... friend...” he drawled slowly. “Like when two people have fun hanging around each other...”
Ryoga hit him in the back of the head. “I know what the word means... fool.”
“See?” Ranma inquired cheerfully. “You do it the same way!”
Akane viewed the exchange with a growing smile. “So you two are finally admitting it!”
“Admitting what?” Ryoga wanted to know. He had a very confused expression on his face.
“That you’re best friends!” Akane added with a giggle.
Ryoga’s face drained of color. “Ranma and I aren’t any kind of friends! We’re... we’re worse off than strangers!”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” Ranma snapped. “If you won’t even admit that much, I don’t know what I’m doing talking to you.” He tugged on Akane’s waist. “C’mon, Akane.”
The two made brief progress, Akane looking back at him with an apologetic expression on her face, before Ryoga caught up to them.
“I... I c-can’t let Akane-san walk home with the likes of you for company,” Ryoga stammered.
“Whatever floats your boat, pig-boy,” Ranma tossed condescendingly over his shoulder.
When Ryoga looked up to retort, Ranma wiggled his eyebrows in Ryoga’s direction in a way that was teasing/suggestive.
Despite Ryoga’s lack of experience in these matters, he managed to catch the implication right away. To his surprise, he felt his face heat, and he almost fell over just putting one foot in front of the other. What the hell was Ranma thinking?
After he’d become more conscious of the world around him, Ryoga had decided that Ranma’s... initial reaction to him had been the result of Ranma’s having a vivid dream due to being knocked on the head. Akane had once told him, in the strictest confidence, that Ranma had more than one screaming nightmare about falling in love or being bound to some man – usually Tatewaki Kuno, but that didn’t mean there hadn’t ever been one about him.
Come to think of it, there had probably been several.
What had pained him most at the time was the fact that he couldn’t use this against his rival; Akane had made him swear again and again to never repeat what he’d heard. He had to respect her wishes.
Now he began to seriously wonder, head knock aside, if he’d ever really been right to try treating Ranma just like any other guy. Ranma had a girl’s body half the time. Half the time! Although it wasn’t like Ryoga’s curse made him part-pig, or anything, perhaps it was all in how you were treated: he knew he’d been influenced by becoming Akane’s pet, for example. He knew he worshipped the ground she walked on, and also knew it wasn’t all about the way she paid attention to him like most girls didn’t. It was inextricably wound about being her pet whenever he saw her, subservient, small, but beloved. Even as a man, he was stuck in this pattern with Akane.
Ranma certainly had been spending a great deal of the past nine months as a girl. People had to have been treating him like a girl part of the time, too, then. Part of Ranma might always be a girl, even if he were cured today, the same way part of Ryoga would always belong to Akane in that same small, subservient way.
So treating Ranma like any other guy wasn’t just stupid, it verged on dangerously stupid. While he wasn’t about to start buying Ranma chocolates and roses to give to Ranma’s girl form like Kuno (the jerk!) he knew he couldn’t treat Ranma quite the same ever again. It could even be that the whole... -gulp-... kissing debacle was because Ranma fought against his girl side so hard that any weakness released it...
No... that can’t be right... can it?
“...and then they asked me to play a boy, believe it or not,” Akane was saying to Ranma.
The martial artist snickered. “There’s some priceless joke in there someplace,” he replied.
“Aw, shuddup with the tomboy comments.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“I know what you’re thinking, Ranma. Anyway, they said I did a good job. A great job! They said if any girl had played a guy more convincingly they didn’t know about it.”
Ryoga watched Ranma cautiously, waiting for the insult.
Which never came. Ranma, to Ryoga’s surprise, continued looking interested and faintly amused. “And? So what’d you say?”
Akane looked relieved, and a little surprised that he hadn’t taken the bait. “I told him that they were wrong – that I knew a girl who acted the part of a boy way better...”
Ranma threw back his head and laughed. “Okay, okay.”
Akane’s pleased and nervous little smile made Ryoga’s heart drop into his toes. She really loved him, didn’t she? His heart of glass was threatening to shatter.
“Ryoga,” the object of his affection began, suddenly recalling his presence. “Why don’t you stay for supper?”
The easy smile on Ranma’s face faded for a moment before flickering back into place, slightly more forced than before.
Ryoga didn’t notice. He’d whirled around to realize that they’d somehow reached the Tendo Dojo.
That was odd. He’d been certain that it was at least an hour from the school; he always wondered why the pair walked. “Uhh... sure. Far be it for me to turn down Kasumi’s cooking,” he managed.
Ranma’s expression was bordering on bleak. “Sure,” he said, with the best false smile he could muster. “Why not?”
Nabiki rolled over onto her stomach. It was always a good idea to let the pigtailed – er, ponytailed... wait a moment, where did that hair go? Never mind. It was always wise to let Ranma get a good view. It distracted him, and she sensed with the acumen gained in over three hundred dirty deals over the years that he was there for business.
Ranma immediately slid to the floor. “Yo,” he began.
“Hiya, Saotome.” She grinned her best Tendo grin. “Mind telling me what you’re playing at with my favorite sucker?” Good girl, go on the offensive.
Ranma chuckled. “That’s my business, isn’t it?”
Nabiki’s smile dropped off her face. “When it cuts into profits, it’s my business,” she replied, giving the word an entirely new meaning.
“Cuts into profits? Don’t tell me he doesn’t like Ranma or Ranma-chan,” Ranma stated with a hint of inquiry in his voice.
“Nooo,” Nabiki drawled. “He wants a group shot.”
“So doctor it!” Ranma ordered impatiently. “I know you can.”
“The point is that you interfered,” Nabiki growled, “in a business transaction of mine. I won’t have it. In case you missed it, a house is expensive to run, and...”
“I won’t buy it,” Ranma murmured.
“Huh?”
“It may be expensive to run a house; that may be how this started. But... even if we were suddenly to become as rich as the Kunos themselves, you’d keep on blackmailing and manipulating. You just like it.”
Nabiki paled. “What!” Point, Saotome, she acknowledged begrudgingly, even if only to herself.
“Eh, you heard me. Whatever, there ain’t nothing I can do about your turn-ons, Nabiki.”
Nabiki blinked. Somehow – especially seeing how thrown Ranma had been the day before – she expected this new Ranma to be no less canny in business than the old.
“Besides all that, I came to ask you a favor.”
“A... a what!”
“A favor,” Ranma repeated. “A deal, if you wanna put it that way.”
“Does this have anything to do with that kiss you gave Ryoga?” Nabiki wanted to know. She was determined to make money off of that somehow.
“Sort of,” Ranma replied cautiously. “I need your help, but I need you to keep very, very quiet about it.”
Nabiki frowned. “Not a chance. You want to tell me something, expect me to use it.”
Ranma grinned. “I did mention a deal.”
“Yeah. And?” Nabiki did her best to appear utterly uninterested, rotating her hand on her wrist in a well, get on with it, time is money motion.
Ranma ran his hands through his short hair. “And I’ll owe you.”
“You’ll owe me?” Nabiki echoed with a faint frown.
“That’s right. I’ll owe you one favor, anything you like.”
Nabiki’s face seemed to lose all warmth and color. “Anything...?”
“With a couple of provisos, of course,” Ranma tacked on, almost as an afterthought. “No nude shots.”
Nabiki blinked. “How do you know I want pictures?”
“That’s what you always want.”
“I’ve never taken nude pictures of you, Ranma.”
“There’s no reason to start, then,” Ranma countered rapidly.
“Three favors,” Nabiki replied, holding up three fingers. “I mean, pictures are one thing, but what about if I get in a tight spot at school? It could be useful to have you on my side...”
“Two favors,” Ranma said.
“You’re killing me here, Ranma...”
“Two favors or I’ll have to resort to my ace-in-the-hole, Nabiki.”
Nabiki smiled. “I’m pleasantly surprised, Ranma. You’re being so... professional... about all of this.”
“I learned from the best.”
Nabiki’s smile widened. “Well, now. I must admit my curiosity concerning your ace, but I’ll fold for today. Now – what is it you want to discuss? It’s Akane, isn’t it?” She manufactured a sympathetic smile, her question more of a statement. No matter what Ranma said, his problems always came down to one thing: women.
“Where can we go where there aren’t any cameras or tape recorders? You’re mine for the next hour or two,” Ranma replied flatly.
Nabiki shivered, beginning to believe for the first time that not only had Ranma come back different; he had come back dangerous. She swatted the thought away; Ranma was Ranma, harmless as ever. “We... could see if we can’t find the park...”
“Too public. There’s always the chance that someone I know might hear us. This is a private matter.”
Nabiki stared at him, at his dark, intense eyes, a small frown on her face. “Ranma...”
“I’ve got an idea,” he said suddenly, his brows lifting, looking almost normal for a moment.
Something in Nabiki quietly relaxed as the stormclouds on his face lifted. She’d never been worried about teasing Akane’s fiance, before. After all, he was a patsy – useful for fighting and sometimes for making her little sister feel good, but not much else. So far as Nabiki was concerned, he was far more trouble than he was worth, and it was up to her to balance the ledger a little by exortion and minor torture. Being unsure of what Ranma would do next was like waking up one day to wonder what color the sky was. He’d been a determined quantity for so long that any alteration was off-putting.
Ranma nodded resolutely to himself, obviously making a decision. He stood, grabbed Nabiki’s wrist and pulled her to him. Putting a silent finger to his lips, he scopped her up in his arms.
Nabiki blinked. “Um...”
Ranma opened the window and braced himself on the sill.
“...Ranma...?”
“Eeeee!” Nabiki exclaimed as Ranma swung himself up onto the roof. “What are you, an ape!”
“I told you to shush!” Ranma reiterated. “It’s Saturday, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” Nabiki had regained her cool rapidly. “I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”
“If it’s Saturday around dinnertime, no one should be at Furinkan, with the exception of the staff and perhaps the Principal...”
Nabiki nodded, but before she could open her mouth, he was off, leaping from building to building with her snugly in his arms. She buried her face into his shirt; no matter how many times he’d done this, she never quite got used to it. She’d seen Akane in a similar position, but the dark-haired girl seemed to enjoy it, or at least tolerate it; and the times when she did scream seemed mostly for show.
Nabiki didn’t like leaping around in someone else’s arms – the tug of gravity, the sudden stops, the feeling of the world trying to drag you back down every time. She also didn’t like to have to rely on Ranma, and she didn’t like not being in control of where she was going.
A small, funny thought occurred to her: perhaps, if she could steer Ranma like the horse he was named for, this wouldn’t be so... traumatic.
When Ranma finally set her back on solid ground, she was still giggling slightly at the thought. Ranma patted her comfortingly on the shoulder, and she opened her eyes.
“Ahh.” They were standing on the roof of one of the towers of Furinkan. She hadn’t been here for a long while. She liked coming in the early spring, when it was nice enough to hang out but not warm enough to draw the sunbathers. Right now, with school out, it was truly a fine and private place.
Ranma had surprised her so much that she didn’t have any of her recording equipment on her. It was all tucked safely away in her bedroom. She wanted to stamp her foot in a fit of pique, but that just wasn’t her style. Nabiki observed the roof, nodded thoughtfully, and turned to frown at her abductor.
Ranma had moved to the railing that separated the edge of the roof from the plain air. He was gazing blankly out at the city, a small, faraway smile on his face.
The view was good, Nabiki admitted, striding a bit closer to take a look. The sun was low in the sky, already turning it to a warm pink. A flock of large birds, gulls maybe, winged their way across the sky. If Nabiki had been the susceptible type, she would have fallen under the spell of Ranma’s strangeness, his dark and unpredictable moods, in such an atmosphere; she could feel a pull to him, one she’d never noticed before. This new Ranma was someone she could fall for. She decided then and there not to let it happen, for a variety of reasons.
Nabiki watched Ranma’s eyes cloud. Yes – she definitely wanted to comfort him, ease that expression off of his face – even pull him away from the ledge. She’d never seen him despair before. Then she remembered what he’d done to get her here and her resolve returned with ease. “All right then, out with it. You’re not Ranma. Who are you?”
“Don’t be stupid,” he retorted harshly, glancing back at her with a frown, the dreamy sorrow fleeing from his features. “Of course I’m Ranma. I just...”
“You’re some version of Ranma. Some Ranma from elsewhere?”
Ranma tilted his head to one side in consideration, as if pondering whether this was an accurate description of him. “In a way. That, or I’m your Ranma, and I’ve smashed my head open one too many times. For all I know, this is a grand illusion.” He gestured out over the city with one, sweeping arm, his eyes flickering to Nabiki and away again so rapidly that the open gesture seemed both forced and wasted.
Nabiki’s brow furrowed as she realized that for once, Saotome Ranma was genuinely serious. “Grand illusion?”
Ranma nodded. “Yes; there’s always the possibility that I’m simply dreaming the whole business from my contusion. It’s all unreal. I could push you off the roof and it wouldn’t make a difference...”
The middle Tendo daughter froze for a split second, her mind racing as she realized she was alone atop a deserted building with an unstoppable martial artist who was quietly informing her he was going insane. What had possessed her to come with him? The lure of his favor, freely given? Why hadn’t she noticed the smudges under his eyes, his stiff stance, his darting pupils, before? “Ranma...”
Ranma blinked at her in slow-dawning surprise, before smiling and barking a humorless laugh. “I’m sorry, Nabiki. I wouldn’t throw you off the building. What if this is real? Where would that put the both of us? Besides, I wouldn’t want to kill you, even in a dream. It would be... it would be unpleasant.” He was smiling at her now, gently, but still in a way that Nabiki classified as not-quite-all-there. His words were meant to put her at ease, but they had the opposite effect. The more he talked about things not being real, the more convinced Nabiki became about his unstable state of mind.
“What would make you think this is a dream, Ranma?”
Ranma considered her question carefully. “I don’t know. It all seems so much like a memory. Sometimes we dream what we remember. I’ve dreamed about the second failed wedding attempt many times, and–”
“The what?”
The short-haired martial artist blinked at Nabiki. “There was the first wedding attempt, then another. I dream about them both all of the time, especially the second one. But it’s a memory; the past. That seems to be what this is.”
“What what is?”
“This,” Ranma replied, making another grand gesture, one which took in the city, the building – and Nabiki herself.
“Wait just one minute,” Nabiki began. “You mean everything here is a construct – including me? I just represent some abstract concept in somebody’s dream? I mean, I have my own thoughts, and feelings, never mind that everyone calls me the Ice Queen – they still exist. Cogito ergo sum, and all of that.” This conversation had begun to take on dreamlike qualities to the middle Tendo daughter. Imagine, debating my very existence!
“And if all you say is just an expression of my memory of you?” Ranma rocked on his heels, calmly awaiting her answer.
Nabiki frowned, but she was still far more in her element, discussing things rationally or arguing them out. “So what, so I’m an expression of your logical side?” She smirked. “We’ve already proven we’re not in a dream, Ranma, as you don’t have one.”
“Clever quips won’t work here, Nabiki,” Ranma admonished gently. “For all I know, that was an expression of my subconscious trying to keep me here until I’ve worked out whatever I’m meant to work out.”
Nabiki’s logic immediately moved to counter him. “Ah! Ask me a question – one where you don’t know the answer. Something – something provable... like... like how old my mother was when she died.”
“Provable here? That proves nothing; not to me.”
Nabiki growled. “Look, there are things that are real, that are provable with only logic, that you don’t know yet. I’d stake my life on that.” She gulped then, trying to forget Ranma’s earlier comments about roofs. “If I can talk to you about one of those things, you’ll know I’m real, and that street is real, and this roof is real... although why you’re questioning that in the first place, other than for an existential lark, is more than I understand...”
Ranma took a deep but shaky breath. “Sorry. I’m going about this in totally the wrong way. I should have told you at first or not at all, but I need the help. And I’m terrified.”
The fact that he was willing to state this, and to her, brought Nabiki crashing back to earth from her intellectual musings. “You said it might be a dream because it’s like a memory?”
Ranma turned to face her, nodding carefully. “I know a lot about you. And Akane, really, and Kasumi. And Ryoga,” he tacked on, and a note entered his voice which Nabiki didn’t quite recognize. “And Kuno, too.” He scratched the back of his neck anxiously. “I know more about everyone than I did yesterday, from one point of view. Far more.”
“Anyone else you wanna mention?” Nabiki inquired ascerbically.
“No. Those are the people I know best,” he admitted. “I know everything about you girls. I know you the best.”
“Me?” Nabiki felt her face flush a bit, and her eyes skittered away from his. “Why would you know the most about me?”
“Akane’s away most of the time; Kasumi’s always busy.” His blue eyes briefly met hers before easing away again. “You stuck around.”
“Away? I don’t understand,” Nabiki said. Actually, she thought she was beginning to understand, but the thought that was coming to her stress-beleaugered brain was both too unlikely and too crazy...
“Know Kuno pretty good too,” Ranma added, “for the same reason. He’s always around, whether you want him to be or not.”
Nabiki blinked. “That’s always true.”
“But more true as time goes on.”
“More true?” Nabiki repeated slowly. “What are you telling me here, Ranma? That you know what’s going to happen? That you see the future?” She tossed her head, tsking in amazed derision. “Right, then. Tell me who to bet on in the races and I’ll make you a billionaire.”
Ranma frowned at her. “It’s not like that, Nabiki. I don’t tell the future, or anything. I’m not a prognosticator. I’ve seen my own life. Just... just my own.”
Nabiki’s brows raised slightly, her mind racing for what to say or do next. For the first time in a long time, it was blank; or, rather, too full to draw anything coherent from the mix. He’s crazy. No, not crazy, he’s behaving a little weird, that’s all. So he’s functional. What would make him develop such a delusion? What if it’s not a delusion? Assuming it’s not, what’s really happened, here?
Nabiki swallowed as she caught his dark blue eyes. He was waiting; waiting for her reaction and her answer. He doesn’t expect me to somehow solve all of this, does he?
She did know a way to test his delusion. People could only create worlds in their mind to a certain degree. If she asked questions that were specific enough, it might break through to him, tell him that what was real was right in front of him.
“So how’s my father in the future, Ranma? Doing well, I hope?”
“Gone. Said he went to look for the cure, but I doubt it. You three were pretty pissed at him, and so was I.”
Nabiki shook her head; the answer was vague, but maybe the question hadn’t been specific enough. “When’d he run off, then?”
“Right after the second failed wedding, of course,” Ranma replied dreamily, his gaze distant and slightly bitter. “Just when we needed him most.”
“What did your father say about being left in charge of the house?”
“Pops?” Ranma snorted, his eyes focusing immediately on Nabiki, brought back to the present by surprise. “You were left in charge of the house. D’you think your dad would even think of letting Pops take over your home? He’d have sold Akane’s virginity and begun to rent out the dojo and maybe spent all your savings on one big sake-binge. You must be joking.”
While Nabiki had to agree, she still had a question, maybe specific enough to cut through this strange dream of Ranma’s. “I took over the household?” she inquired sweetly.
Ranma nodded absently.
“What about Kasumi?”
The dark-haired boy blinked at her for a moment, amazed. “Well...”
“Or even Akane. You’d think they’d trust Akane more than a shark like me.”
Ranma’s eyes softened. “You’re more trustworthy than you let on. Anyway, Kasumi and Akane were both occupied at the time. Kasumi... well, it’s still her secret, so I can’t say much right now, but she was out of the house a lot. Akane got a job with an acting troupe the year before, and she was always traveling around. Saw her once in Twelfth Night – she got one of the lead roles and brought down the house.”
Nabiki felt herself begin to doubt. Ranma was not this good a liar. He was not. She knew him, knew he would not even consider trying to fool her... he really believed all of this.
And it was specific, down to the name of a play her sister supposedly starred in.
“Which role?” she inquired.
“Olivia,” he replied, frowning at her. “Why are you asking me all of this, Nabiki? Are you calculating the likelihood of these events? Honestly, it’s not like you’ve got a computer for a brain. There’s no way this can help either of us.”
“How can you be sure that’s not all a dream?” Nabiki demanded.
“Ah, and now we’re back where we started. I can’t. I can’t tell this isn’t, either.”
Nabiki’s eyebrows lifted and her face relaxed. “Oh. I have an idea.” She smiled gleefully at Ranma and punched him in the gut.
The dark-haired boy’s brooding expression smashed into a thousand pieces as he hunched over in pain.
When Ranma stayed down, Nabiki approached him in amazement, putting a careful hand on his shoulder. “Ranma, I didn’t mean to hit you that hard...”
After a moment, Nabiki realized that the strange, strangled noises he was making were helpless giggles.
“Why... didn’t... I think of that?” Ranma demanded. When he rose to wipe a tear from his eye, he was grinning at the dark-haired girl, a rueful grin that looked a lot like the one she remembered. “Thank you, Nabiki.”
Nabiki returned the smile. “No one’s ever thanked me for hitting them, before.” She huffed with false exasperation. “You can pay me later. But now you know this, in any case, isn’t a dream. As for the other... I have no way of telling, Ranma. You may have to wait around to find out, to see if anything you’ve dreamed comes true.”
Ranma nodded solemnly, but his lips were still twitching with humor, and he was shaking his head at his own foolishness.
“Maybe I’ll notice something you don’t, Ranma. Why don’t you tell me everything you know about this new world of yours? What about Ukyo, for example?”
Ranma flushed. “Uh, well... she still has the restaurant, if that’s what you mean.”
“More, Ranma. I need more than that.”
Ranma gulped, suddenly completing his transformation back to the Ranma of yore. A small sweatdrop decorated him.
“Ehhhh?”
Ranma sighed. “Okay, okay. Ukyo and Akane seem to be seeing one another. Both of them deny it’s anything serious, but c’mon. They’ve known one another since they were kids. What is it now, seven years? They can’t pretend that they’d enter into something like that so lightly. ‘Friends with benefits’ my ass...”
Nabiki tried her best not to stare. “Excuse me?” She cracked her knuckles, an old habit of hers that she thought she’d abandoned in junior high. “By ‘seeing one another’, you mean...?”
Ranma grinned wryly at her. “Who thought you’d be such an innocent, Nabiki? I’ll tease you once...” He deflated suddenly. “If... if I ever get back.”
“You’re allowing this to happen!” Nabiki demanded, leaning on her hands to face him. “She’s your wife!”
Ranma blinked. “You’re talking in present tense, Nabiki. You believe me?” He grinned, the new grin, the false one. “That’s nice. But she’s not my wife. Never was.” He held up one hand in apology, the other scratching behind his neck. “Sorry. After the second failed wedding, I told her it just wasn’t... wasn’t working out.”
“Oh.” Nabiki’s shoulders drooped. “I always thought that the two of you would get it together, someday. I’m... I’m sorry, somehow.” She sighed, feeling like Ranma’s depression was beginning to effect her. “There’s a whole history here, isn’t there, Ranma?”
Ranma nodded. “Akane took it pretty good. She said she knew it and just like that things kind of relaxed between us. The romantic tension died.”
For a long moment, Nabiki absorbed this. “I’m sorry, Ranma.”
Another small smile broke out onto the pigtailed boy’s face. “You don’t have to keep apologizing, Nabiki. I’ve had a good life, up ‘til now. Some of the insanity even seemed to be coming to an end. It’s felt good these past couple years, just kind of living for once instead of running all the time. Should’ve known it was probably too good to last.”
Nabiki felt the strange urge to comfort him again, but he wasn’t looking dejected or upset, despite his words. Ranma still had that strange, small smile on his face, like he’d enjoyed that life while it had lasted rather than mourned its passing. Paradoxically, it made her want to touch him even more. She clamped down on the desire. “So what has your life been like, then? Who else is important to you, and what do you know about them?”
“Well. There’s Ryoga...”
Nabiki smiled. “Ah, I knew that something had to be up between you two. What about him?”
Ranma drew up short. “It’s – well, he’s...”
“Dead?” Nabiki could imagine that Ranma might kiss a friend, if he saw a friend he thought to be deceased. Especially while in his girl form – especially after being hit on the head.
“Not dead.”
“Missing? Uh, seriously injured?” Nabiki got awful pictures of Ryoga living somewhere as a vegetable in a long-term care facility and shuddered.
“Nothing like that. Married.”
“Married?”
“Married.”
“Akane married the jerk!”
“No.” Ranma closed his eyes tightly. “Me.”
“I thought you said Akane hadn’t married you,” Nabiki cut in impatiently.
“He’s married to me,” Ranma repeated, his eyes still tightly shut.
“No he isn’t,” Nabiki said suddenly. She clapped a hand over her own mouth. That hadn’t been what she thought she was going to say.
To her own surprise, Ranma’s eyes met her own, and they were filled with humor. “A little... it’s a little strange, isn’t it?”
For a moment, Nabiki was silent. “So you... so...?”
Ranma shrugged. “Just kind of happened. First we weren’t exactly enemies. Then, for awhile, we were friends. I started noticing he treated me different when I was a girl. It started making me feel weird. Uncomfortable. It wasn’t the way he treated Akane or anything... I don’t know. It was... different.
“There was this one time when we were sparring, and he kissed me. I hit him. He yelled at me. I yelled back. For a long time after that, we didn’t talk. Then he shows up three months later with this crazy look in his eyes and he says to me that he’s gotta talk. Well... what am I supposed to do? I guessed I might’ve kissed him back, and if I’d done that even for a second, then I was at least partway to blame. So we talked for a long time, admitted we’d liked it, and tried it again.”
“Where was Akane in all of this?” Nabiki demanded, finally finding her voice. “You were running around on my little sister! You’re no better than Kuno!”
Ranma flushed. “I’d told Akane we weren’t going to get married long before that.”
The rooftop was silent for a moment as Nabiki absorbed this. Finally, she shook her head in consternation. “How long was it?”
“Six years,” Ranma replied. “Or something like that.”
“So you ‘remember’ the next six years,” Nabiki repeated.
“That or dreamed them,” Ranma replied quietly, “from a bump on the head...”
The implications began hitting Nabiki one after the other, each with the force of a physical blow. Ranma felt like he’d lived those six years. Could she imagine being married... apparently happily... and then waking up and having her husband hate her guts? In the dream, Ranma’s admittedly confused sexual orientation had switched. In effect, he was now ‘back in the closet’. He suddenly once more had four fiancees. He was still attending high school, when...
“Are you out of college?” Nabiki inquired absently.
“Uh huh.”
...when he’d already been through undergrad! Akane was still in love with him.
Only, that could all have been a dream. Just yet another thing messing with Saotome Ranma’s head. Which would mean that those six years he’d lived and loved were simply a hallucination induced by the very man who’d been the object of the dream.
That, or the far worse implication: that it was all true. That Ranma had somehow moved through time and was... trapped here.
In that case... where was sixteen year old Ranma?
Probably someplace beating up her concerned husband. Could that be true?
“Double major art/phys ed.,” Ranma continued just as absently. Obviously his mind was elsewhere, and the answer automatic from many years of having been asked that very question.
“What... what about the agreement?” Nabiki finally whispered, reaching desperately for something to say. “Between our families?”
Ranma’s expression once more grew faraway, and he took a deep, strengthening breath. “Maybe it was selfish of me an’ Ryoga to disappoint all of my fiancees, but we were young and stupid. And, besides, after all the ways Dad’d bent honor to suit him, I wanted nothing to do with his version of it: marrying somebody I didn’t love just so I could say I had a good name. Honor isn’t always right, Nabiki, and it isn’t always fair.” His eyes met hers. “Is it?”
Nabiki felt like the rabbit caught in the eye of a hawk. She wondered how much Ranma knew about her own personal struggle with honor; her attempts to balance integrity with necessity left her shaken, especially when she took pleasure into account as well. Ranma was right; she liked those shakedowns, the scams. When they worked well, it was like poetry or fast music, it moved through her and left her feeling heady and brilliant, a step ahead of the rest of the world. Maybe a step above.
Nabiki scrambled around in her mind for something pertinent to say. Something he’d want to hear, something to make him forget this line of questioning. “There’s another possibility you haven’t considered, you know. You could have developed some kind of telepathy or precognition from the bump.”
“You think?”
Nabiki, who had anticipated having to explain those two terms, was brought up short. “Could be.”
“So do you swear on your honor you won’t utter a word about this to anybody?” Ranma demanded.
There’s that word again, Nabiki pondered quietly. But her honor still meant something to her, even if it didn’t to Ranma; then again, when had Ranma ever staked his personal honor on marrying her little sister? Not once. In fact, he’d gone out of his way, along with Akane herself, to point out that it was their parents’ idea they even be engaged. Perhaps Genma had dragged the family name through the mud so often that Ranma didn’t count so much on its worth.
Nabiki sighed.
“If you’re correct about all of this, you’ve got too much on me for me to betray you in any way, shape or form,” she replied, “and you know it. I imagine you find out quite a bit about me in your supposed future?”
Ranma shrugged. “Yeah... including that thing you did on Halloween last year...”
All the color fled Nabiki’s face. “Ranma... that was before you even arrived in Nerima. So I told it to you, huh?” She stared at Ranma. “That was your ace-in-the-hole! You jerk – you were going to blackmail me!”
“Turnabout’s fair play,” Ranma returned with a small smile tugging at his lips.
Nabiki gulped. “So it is real. Some of it’s real. Because there’s no way you could know that, Ranma...”
“I know that.” He took in a deep breath, held it for a moment as he held some question in his mind. “I think I’ve known all along, in a way, that this is real and that is real and they both exist together, somehow...” Ranma shook his head. “Somehow I’ve traveled from there to here. But I don’t understand. I wasn’t doing anything special, just cleaning up Akane’s old room because she was coming for a visit. I decided to nap awhile, but then I woke up here.”
“No wonder you’re acting so different,” Nabiki said as gently as her voice ever became.
“Yeah, but I’m still no good at hiding anything. Even Akane said I was acting deceitful, like a sneak.”
Nabiki blinked. “She picked up on that? If you hadn’t been dropping so many hints, I wouldn’t have caught on. If you’d just acted morose, I’d assume it was over Ryoga beating you. Just try and be quiet a little more often. People might think you’re upset, but it’s better than discovery. Right?”
Ranma nodded morosely. “Absolutely right. I can just imagine a teenaged Ryoga’s reaction to this one.”
Nabiki took in a deep breath. “Heh. He might just kill you, Ranma.”
“Or leave for good.”
Nabiki frowned; she could make out a faint depressive aura around the dark-haired boy. “Ranma...”
Ranma looked down at himself and blinked in amazement. “Whoops.” He closed his eyes and concentrated, his expression shifting to serene. “Better?”
Nabiki wasn’t sure about that, but she couldn’t see an aura anymore.
After Ranma had dropped Nabiki back at her room, he swung himself up to the dojo roof; it wasn’t his usual spot, but maybe that was for the best. If nobody came looking for him, nobody would see him cursing himself creatively under his breath.
He was sure he trusted Nabiki. He was sure! After all, he’d known her for almost seven years, a third of his time on the planet, and she’d been nothing but good to him – eventually, anyway, once she was certain that he was going to stick by her no matter what she did. Winning Nabiki’s trust was difficult, but, once accomplished, worth every moment spent.
Only, he was back to square one. And he obviously didn’t trust this Nabiki as much as he’d thought. He hadn’t even arrived at the worst part of his tale.
The truth was that it was now slipping from him, leaving him, this memory of the future, piece by piece. As he’d told his story to the middle Tendo daughter, he was certain, absolutely certain that the story about he and Ryoga becoming closer gradually was true. But after he’d finished speaking, the conviction had gripped him that he’d told her a blatant lie – he and Ryoga had become closer with an almost unnerving speed, like the affection between them had been there all along. That, more than anything, worried him, made him think he was simply losing his grip on reality. A stable future-vision was easy to understand; a shifting one, on the other hand...
He’d been in a deep depression when he’d fallen for Ryoga, except that he’d been perfectly happy at the time. He’d kissed Ryoga first, but Ryoga had first kissed him. He told Akane gently that he wasn’t going to marry her at the second failed wedding; he told her long before then that he hated her guts and wished he’d never even met her. He’d bought and avidly read a book on causality, only... why had he bought it? What made it interesting, when all of this couldn’t have happened yet?
Ranma’s eyes widened in sudden understanding. “Not... happened... yet. That’s right. At first, the future didn’t shift much. But now... now I’ve gone and... been nice to Akane and Ryoga. Told Cologne and Nabiki all about this. Messed with Kuno.” He sighed, letting the air out of his pursed lips in a low whistle. “I see. No matter what I do, I can’t act the same way as the old me. No matter what, things will change. And once they do, they will have always been that way, for me – they’ll be in my past. Which means I’ll remember them.” He shook his head in consternation. “But which is which? Which one is the new future and which is the my original future?”
No matter how hard Ranma concentrated, the details of his life with Ryoga faded in and out like sound from a bad transistor.
AUTHOR’S NOTES:
Sorry for the wait; and sorry this one’s so long.
So, what exactly did Nabiki do on Halloween? Hmm, I know, but I’ll let y’all use your imaginations. I’m sure you can come up with better than I. ;)
There really are far too many unpublished stories gathering dust in this computer... I really ought to fix them up and post them all. But I have to admit it: I hate editing when a fic is already through. Doing stories the way I do now really is perfect for me. I write the whole story (which usually goes thru a couple of drafts) and then I post the first chapter. As I go along, I always end up changing a great deal. This all has the effect of polishing as I go. Dredging up old stuff – no matter how entertaining the writing may be to me after so many years of leaving it alone – sucks. I can see all the flaws, and, in some cases, can’t imagine what would set them aright.
To answer some particular questions: fuzzy causality! As if there’s any other kind! ;) Actually, I spent a some time studying causality recently, both for the sake of this story and for a class I was giving. It’s messy, nasty stuff, and quantum physicists still tend to disagree with one another. It’s so young a science that I can almost do whatever I like and then say, “’cause quantum physics sez so!” Which turns out to come in handy...
And now here’s your answer about the books. I wouldn’t have listed them if they weren’t significant. Although the Piers Anthony reference is more of a joke than anything else – read the book if you want to find out. Sometimes I think Anthony is a psuedonym for Takahashi...
TSAG status... hmm. How shall I say this? There’s a big chunk of story that no longer has a home. I love that chunk. It’s awesome. It may be – no, is – the best stuff I’ve ever written, Ranma/original, whatever. And it no longer wants to click into the main storyline anymore.
Somebody shoot me.
If I leave that out (it’s maybe three chapters) then all that’s done is the
first and second chapters. The first chapter opens up on Akane, still in Nerima
– easy enough. But when we get to Ranma and Co. tramping through the mountains
of
Probably once I hit the new school year (Sept. 1 or so) I’ll release the first chapter, followed by one per month after that. That will allow me to keep my promise to limit it to a year while still having the time to tie up loose ends, if necessary.
Let’s just hope it’s not a trilogy, okay? ;)
K
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