The dojo doors were open to let in a cool breeze on the hot summer day. Classes began early in the morning and ended an hour before dinner. Some of the students would stick around most of the day, helping around the house, assisting the teacher, and training to become a sensei themselves. It had come naturally to Ranma when he started off. There were a few hiccups in his methods, but after a few months things started getting into a good groove. Ranma couldn’t use the harsh training methods of his father, though he did find some very good alternatives. His students didn’t get the same results as Ranma’s training, but no one should have to train like that.

Lunch break would be coming up soon. Ranma had been teaching classes since he had weaned Hiro from breast-feeding. That had hurt; the kid seemed to enjoy biting. Perhaps he could talk Soun into taking over for the day. He enjoyed spending more of the day with Hiro and it was really time to begin his son’s training in earnest.

Last fight, Ranma thought as he took a glance at the clock, just have to make it quick. His last opponent, student, was a young girl, Sakura. She wore a formal kimono everywhere she went and so she wore it to class. Ranma had made sure his students understood the need to train in their regular clothes. Some of the kids got real creative with the applications of some of their clothing.

Sakura had long brown hair tied in a ponytail, much like Ucchan, and had a determined glint in her eyes, very much like Ucchan. Thankfully, this girl did not carry a spatula or want him for a husband. Her technique was a little shaky and a bit too defensive, but not bad for a fourteen-year-old.

The fight was quick, by choice or not. The girl was simply too timid. She would spend so much time blocking she would miss the easy shots and then rush for one finishing technique, slow and sloppy. Ranma had his three points in while going as easy as he could, and it still looked like a royal beating.

“Alright, class.” Ranma barked out as he helped Sakura to her feet. “That’s it for today. Let’s bow out.” The routine was short and simple since the grand master of the art, him, did not like formality much.

The class left for the changing rooms that had been installed three years ago when enrollment started to pick up. Giving his students one more farewell, Ranma began to pick up the extra equipment then headed off for the house.

A glass of water he had left on the living room table was still waiting for Ranma. He upended the glass over his head and continued on to the kitchen, barely minding the change. She started preparing herself some lunch for three, expecting Soun to be back anytime now.

The plate in her hands cracked as she thought of him.

Oh, how that man infuriated her! He didn’t have to press the issue like he did. Three and a half years may be a long time to hold a grudge, but Soun binding him like this was disgusting! Screw honor! If she had her way, she would’ve... would’ve...

Ranma deflated and set herself down at the table next to two empty seats. It was that old argument again. Ranma had tried to leave once, but a pregnant woman could only get so far before someone found her.

She returned, and at the threat of a katana skewering, married. Ranma didn’t wear the ring. It rested on a nightstand next to her bed, beside a picture of her child, resting in her arms and Soun with his hand on her shoulder.

Ranma wiped the tear away from her eye and began to eat slowly. What was honor without her dignity, she thought bitterly.

The front door opened and a child’s voice sounded through the halls. Hiro ran into the dining room, skidding to a halt before his mother. She sat quietly and stiffly as she always did, but there was always the hint of danger about her that was to be respected. His mother didn’t frighten him, but her presence seemed to demand respect. The katana she sometimes carried only heightened the idea.

Ranma paused in her meal as she felt Soun and Hiro stir nervously behind her. Soun, she understood with a grin, was frightened of her. How else could you feel around a sexually frustrated and incredibly powerful martial artist?

“Lunch is ready.” She said it without directing the statement to anyone. Ranma had chosen to not talk to her husband unless it was necessary. Hiro took a seat across from her while Soun sat down in his usual spot at the head of the table.

Soun had changed a little over the years. After the first couple of months of their... union, he became a bit more animated about the house. Most of the time, Soun was nervous to even be in the same room as Ranma, but he refused to release her of the shotgun marriage. There was no love here, nor would there ever be.

Those first months, Soun had gone slightly crazy, as Ranma recalled. He didn’t act affectionately towards Ranma, but listed her faults and his expectations of her. Ranma refused to be changed and forced to become the reincarnation of his dead wife. All of her protests just made him more insane. It drove Nabiki and Akane out of the house as soon as high school was finished for them.

Despite the pain of feeling their angry scowls on her back, Ranma would have preferred it to the solitude living with Soun provided.

It was a forced isolation.

Kasumi moved in with Toufuu, stopping by occasionally to help out around the house and give Ranma lessons in lammasse. So most of her day was spent slowly moving about the house, cleaning and cooking, while bearing the burden of their child. She couldn’t bare to hear the sound of Soun’s voice any more than she needed. In those months, she talked little and smiled less.

It was probably true that Ranma didn’t smile again until sometime after Hiro’s birth. The operating room had been quiet, like a crypt in the middle of winter. The doctors and nurses remained silent through most of her labor, feeling the awkward coldness between the couple through what they believed should have been a happy occasion.

That was the first time Dr. Toufuu refused Ranma and the Tendou’s business.

“This looks wonderful, Ranma. Thank you.” Soun’s smile wavered and finally fell as he watched the redheaded young woman continue to eat without acknowledging him in the slightest. At least she will open up to Hiro a little more.

After Soun had spoken, Ranma got a bad taste in her mouth and left the rest of her meal untouched. Time to find a distraction, she decided. “How was your day today, Hiro-kun?”

“Good, Okaasan.” Hiro replied cheerily. “Otoosan took me to the park and they were having a fair and I got to watch a clown perform. He was really funny!”

Ranma smiled again when she held her son, alone in her recovery room. No one came to see her again while she was in the hospital for the next two days. It gave her time to study her baby. His eyes were a dark brown like Soun’s and her daughters. Hiro didn’t do much those two days but sleep, suckle, and get his diapers changed by the nurses. He didn’t cry though, never cried. Ranma thought it strange. It was like Hiro was unconsciously trying to make his mother feel more comfortable.

It felt wonderful to hold the small child in her arms. A piece of her self she could protect from the hell life threw her way.

“Yes.” Soun nodded in agreement. “He was a prop co-”

“That’s nice, Hiro-kun.” She interrupted. Why did that man have to talk so much?! Everything he did made her feel nauseous. “Why don’t we go shopping for your new clothes after lunch? Your father will take over classes for the day.”

Sighing, Soun nodded acceptance, though no one had really asked him anything.

Hiro smiled nervously, looking back and forth between his Okaasan and Otoosan. He wasn’t quite certain how it worked, but Okaasan could get Otoosan to do things without really telling him to do anything. It was scary in a way. It was like Otoosan wasn’t really there for her. Hiro tried hard every day to make sure Okaasan noticed him. He had nightmares where she ignored him the same way she ignored Otoosan.

“New clothes already?” Soun asked. “I forgot how quickly kids seem to grow.” He tried to add on a chuckle of amusement, but it ended up sounding like a stuttering car engine. Pulling out his wallet, Soun placed a good amount of money on the table for Ranma’s shopping; she didn’t like to touch him if she didn’t have to.

When the meal was finished, Ranma picked up the dirty dishes and cleaned them with her martial arts speed. She returned to the dining room and walked to the mantle in the living room to retrieve her katana before holding out her other hand for Hiro. Soun’s money remained where it was on the table as she led her son out the door. It didn’t have quite the dramatic affect Nodoka got in her kimono, but Ranma was quite a deal more lethal.

Outside and a distance away from the dojo, Ranma did become more animated. She smiled as her son jumped about the sidewalk, hopping over the little obstacles and balancing on short fences. Ranma held his hand through much of it to help Hiro keep his balance. Some people scoffed at her for letting Hiro run so wild, but shut their mouths quickly when Ranma looked in their direction.

“Okaasan?” Hiro bound in front of her, skipping backwards and giving her his best puppy dog eyes. “Can we visit Obasan on the way?”

Ranma looked about the neighborhood and realized they were down the street from her mother’s home. Hiro liked visiting his grandmother because she spoiled him, in Ranma’s opinion.

While she seemed heartless at home, Ranma would never deny her son anything, he asked so little of her. Though their relationship had run sour, Ranma had kept a dialogue going between herself and her mother, as a child should for their parent.

“Of course, Hiro-kun.” Ranma strained for a smile to keep up pretenses. It wouldn’t do to get Hiro upset over something that didn’t involve him.

They arrived at the Saotome household a few minutes later. Nodoka answered the door like always. Can’t send a runaway husband to get the door. Genma was still afraid of the seppuku contract, which Nodoka would probably force him to fulfill regardless now. Hiro instantly sprung himself into Nodoka’s arms when she opened the door. “Obasan!”

“And hello to you, Hiro-kun!” What a wonderful and vibrant young man, she thought. Ranma was quite another matter these days, Nodoka noted sadly. “Come on in, dear. How about some ice cream?”

“Ice cream!” Hiro cheered.

“None for me thanks.” Leaving her shoes at the door, Ranma followed her mother into the kitchen and sat at the table as Hiro requested a double scoop of chocolate that Nodoka always had available for her grandson.

Once all were seated, Nodoka gave her son turn daughter a good once over. “How are you today, Ranma-chan?”

“Soun bought another bottle of sake earlier this week.” Ranma answered somewhat cryptically.

“Oh?”

A nod and frown, Ranma continued. “I think he plans on having a drink tonight.” This was really an old dialogue the two of them had worked out so as not to tip off Hiro. Soun used to enjoy drinking sake with Genma, just for fun. Now he bought it for Ranma, to get her in the mood. To dull her mind, Ranma thought sourly.

Three years he had been using her and still the buffoon couldn’t take a hint. Ranma refused to participate or find any satisfaction in the act each time.

After a moment’s pause, Nodoka sighed regretfully while looking at her daughter. “It is a wife’s duty, Ranma.”

“So you say.”

*       *       *

Ranma and Hiro returned home at 5:30, half an hour after classes ended. The sun was just beginning to set over the mountains, setting the few clouds over Tokyo on fire with its refracting rays. A cool breeze settled over the house as they walked in.

Soun was sitting at the table, finishing the last bits of his newspaper. Of course, he wouldn’t think of actually preparing dinner himself. Setting the katana back on the mantle, Ranma escaped his gaze via the kitchen door. She set about to preparing their meals.

“Look what Okaasan got me, Otoosan!” Hiro held up his very first gi for Soun’s inspection.

“How wonderful, Hiro. Be sure to tell your mommy ‘thank you’.” Soun strained to keep a pleasant attitude. He knew, however, that Hiro’s gi was anything but good. Ranma made it a policy to train people in their normal clothes to make them better prepared for real situations. “Go put it in your room and come back down for dinner.”

“Hai!”

Ranma listened to her husband’s footsteps as he walked into the kitchen. She figured Soun would guess the meaning behind the gi. “Hiro is not going on a training trip with you, Ranma.” He commanded.

The grip she had on the kitchen knife tightened somewhat, but Ranma did not look in his direction.

“I have already begun to train the boy in the Art.”

It was so tempting most of the time. Her skill in the Art was far superior to Soun’s. The number of real challenges to her ability dwindled after her pregnancy, but Ranma was certain she had what it took to beat the man senseless. She knew how to maximize his pain and prolong his suffering if she so desired. At the moment, her thoughts ran along a comfortable scenario of swift, precise motions to bring the blade slicing through the area of his throat.

Setting the knife down beside the chopping block, Ranma turned to face her husband with cold eyes. It was time to get her two cents in. “Train? Ha! It will take me months to fix the damage you have caused!”

This time, Soun did not back down. “I know you plan to take Hiro for a long time like your father did with you, and I will not allow it! As long as I am here, you will not take Hiro.” Folding his arms over his chest, Soun dared Ranma to disobey him. He knew that Ranma’s honor and understanding of duty would be on his side once the command was given.

Ranma glared at her tormentor with eyes promising pain in the future. “So be it.” She snarled, blue flames burning in her eyes.

Dinner passed quickly and quietly. Hiro made sure his mother talked to him again, running through various subjects like what he wanted to learn in martial arts and how good he was going to be. He became a little concerned when she wouldn’t give him an answer for when they would start training. Soun had taken over from there and said that he and father would begin tomorrow morning.

Looking back and forth between his parents, Hiro eventually agreed numbly.

“Good. Now why don’t you go wash up before bed? Mommy will be up in a few minutes to tuck you in.” Hiro nodded quickly and ran off for the bathroom.

Soun stared at his wife from his seat at the table. Ranma was busily cleaning the dishes and sealing the leftovers in Tupperware. Opening a wooden cabinet in the corner of the room, Soun removed a full bottle of sake and two glasses. “Would you like a drink?” He asked, holding up one of the glasses filled with the brown liquid.

Ranma did not respond.

Frowning a little more, Soun poured a second glass anyway and forced it into Ranma’s hand. “It will help get you in the mood.” He tried to add helpfully.

Ranma held the glass up to Soun’s face and poured it slowly onto the ground. “I have to go check on Hiro.”

“I’ll be waiting for you.” He commented dryly, downing his glass in one gulp. Soun watched Ranma walk off for the bathroom, a drunken smile beginning to pester his lips.

That night, Ranma envisioned all of her katas behind closed eyes to block out the moans Soun made above her. Silently, she thanked the doctor who taught her about birth control. She was not going to have another one of this bastard’s children.

 

Three years later...

‘As long as I am here, you will not take Hiro’, that’s what Soun told her. Ranma spent every day since then praying for his death. She would do nothing to cause it because she was not a killer, but she would not try to prevent it either. He understood quickly when Ranma deigned to not warn him of a stray katana that had slipped out of a student’s hand. After some quick surgery, the hole in Soun’s stomach was patched and his life had been saved.

Ranma claimed she was in shock so her students had to make the emergency call.

With Soun’s forced inactivity, Akane returned home to begin her sensei training with Ranma. Cursing as she stepped into the dojo, Akane found Ranma taking his younger students through kicking drills.

“I’m back, Okaasan.”

She cringed again as she spoke Ranma’s new title in her family. Father had told her to refer to Ranma in such a way, and it just felt strange. Ranma, who she used to call iinazuke, was now her mother.

For Ranma’s credit, he, or was it she now, acted just like Auntie/Grandma Saotome. Always proper and stiff, holding honor above all else except his/her son, Ranma even carried a katana about when she was not at home.

That was another thing. Soun had ordered Ranma to remain a woman in the house, to keep Hiro from becoming confused, he said, though Hiro had seen the change plenty of times. Akane wasn’t so easily fooled. Living with the odd couple, Akane had heard everything that went on between them, it wasn’t much. Ranma barely talked to Soun, except to insult or order him. She had been very upset at her ‘mother’ and even tried to hit Ranma with her mallet. Unlike before, when Ranma was her fiancée, Okaasan would not tolerate her ‘foolishness’.

Ranma had become an exceptional sword fighter, better than Grandma Saotome had. Akane didn’t even see the swing of Ranma’s arm as she cleaved her mallet in half. The only indication that Okaasan had used the katana at all was the snap of the blade being locked back into the scabbard.

She was still angry for having her mallet sliced so easily, and held the grudge for the next week, asking her ‘mother’ to spar with her every morning. This time, Ranma would fight her, and beat her without a thought. This was no longer Ranma, but a harsh woman who demanded respect.

It was with great control that Akane finally began to accept that the Ranma she knew was gone, replaced by this new person daddy called his wife. The idea was never so strongly enforced into Akane’s mind than the first time she saw her father drink a whole bottle of sake.

Terrible was not the word for it. All night she heard daddy’s moaning. The bouncing bedsprings and rocking of the bed frame seemed to resonate through the house, invading her sleep. Akane cried that night as she was forced to listen. At no point did she hear Ranma utter a sound of pleasure or protest; it was as she said, ‘a wife’s duty’.

The next morning, Akane found Ranma just as silent and cold, like the katana she wielded. Hiro was the only thing in Okaasan’s life that gave her any joy.

Akane would never again question Ranma’s actions.

“Something wrong, daughter.” It wasn’t really a question, but an observation. Daughter, Ranma called her daughter now. There seemed to be no limit to the indignity Soun would mount upon her. Ranma had even been forbidden to become a man while teaching classes now.

“You could say that. Kuno is still following me around.” She replied, making the name seem more like an insult as she said it.

Ranma nodded his understanding and spoke nothing of it for the remainder of the morning. It wasn’t proper to talk about family issues during class; this was the student’s time.

Akane had learned quite a lot from Okaasan since she started assisting classes. Besides the sensei training, Ranma was giving her quite a workout every morning.

As lunchtime started to roll around, Ranma stopped class and let them bow out. She watched them slowly leave the dojo while cleaning up the extra equipment. Akane followed her into the house, no longer startled by Ranma’s acceptance of the change. Rather like she was acting on autopilot, Ranma started making lunch, teaching Akane as she went.

Never question Ranma’s actions, Akane told herself. She was pleasantly surprised to see her cooking ability improve the more Ranma taught her. If only she had listened to her fiancée all those years ago, maybe none of this would’ve happened. It was my fault, Akane believed. If I hadn’t gotten mad at Ranma after he ate my food, I wouldn’t have hit him with the frying pan and...

When Ranma had asked what happened, Nabiki had told her that she went mad, hitting anyone that got in her way. Ranma had instantly latched onto Soun like her life depended on it. They tried to stop the redhead, but she was too powerful. It was during the height of Ranma’s ecstasy that Akane had gotten close enough to hit her with the pan again. Ranma hadn’t stopped though, even lashing out at her, knocking her sisters unconscious. When they came to, Ranma was stumbling towards them, then collapsed onto the ground.

They had been so afraid of her then, not knowing what to do.

This had been all her fault. It was her cooking, her frying pan, and her temper that caused all of this.

Akane paused in her stirring and watched the miso soup begin to settle in the pot. There were still old regrets, things that would never leave her so long as she had to see Ranma with Soun. The spark in the cursed boy’s life was all but gone, not a trace of his arrogant or chauvinistic character remained. Akane would’ve called him a real momma’s boy and laughed at the irony if it didn’t pierce her heart each time she thought of Okaasan.

“Do you want to talk about it, daughter.” It never sounded like a question, always a statement like Ranma wasn’t truly conscious of her surroundings.

Akane felt the tear move slowly down her cheek. She let it fall, to distraught to dare touch her pain. “I . . I sometimes think about what I could have done differently. I wish that...”

“But this is life, daughter. Wishes are for fairy tales. What is done, is done.” There was finality in Ranma’s words, like she had signed her last will and testament and was simply waiting for her time to come. An accurate assessment of Ranma’s life, Akane thought.

“That can’t be all there is to it. Ranma I-”

“Daughter!” Okaasan snapped at her. “You will stop your foolishness and not speak of this again!”

A long silence followed.

“Wife, how is lunch coming?” Soun called from the dining room.

Okaasan said nothing, but returned to her preparations. Akane watched her for a few moments before stirring the soup once again. “In a minute, Otoosan.” She answered for Ranma.

And that was how it was. Akane did not speak of it again and life went on its precarious path for the Tendou’s once again. Soun either ignored it or did not care so long as Ranma did as she was told. Hiro somehow remained his cheerful self, being instructed by Soun and starting classes at Nerima Elementary.

This went on for another few weeks, interrupted by another night of sake drinking and a class testing in the dojo. It was a Saturday when the family got together again to celebrate Okaasan’s birthday.

Everyone attended as they always did. Ranma never called anyone, or told anyone her birthday was near, they just came, gentle smiles in tow. Akane was already present, a young man at her side this time; he was a new boyfriend that Ranma hadn’t yet met. Nabiki was still single. For some reason the middle daughter never had the strength to look Ranma in the eye. Kasumi, who had married her Dr. Toufuu, was their in all smiles. Taking care of her family for twenty years, Ranma understood Kasumi’s relief to finally have a life of her own. Kasumi’s children were younger than Hiro, but they played in the backyard when they were together.

The only other person was Grandma Saotome. Genma had not been seen of again since Ranma had been dragged back to the Tendou’s that five and half years ago. Nodoka carried her katana, wrapped in silk, in her right hand. The understanding she now had with her daughter was outstanding and quite a deal terrifying.

“Blow out the candles, Okaasan.” Akane tried to cheer her ‘mother’ up just a little. This was her birthday after all.

Ranma stood up to stare at the simple, elegant chocolate cake before her. The candles sparkled, lighting her face up like an evil spirit. She raised her right hand up before the cake, feeling the heat off of the flames. Before anyone could ask, Ranma waved her hand once, extinguishing the twenty-five candles with the simple movement.

No one spoke except for the children. Hiro giggled and whispered to his niece. Nodding at the little girl’s response, Hiro smiled at his mother. “That’s not how you blow out the candles mom!” The children giggled a little more.

Ranma let a hint of a smile corner her mouth. “Oh?” She asked in an affectionate tone. “How do you blow out the candles, Hiro-kun?” Ranma waved her hand once more, lighting each of the candles once again.

Hiro and Kasumi’s two girls, Kei and Yuri, stood on their seats and leaned over the table. “Like this!” They chanted at once, sucking in a deep breath. They blew as hard as they could, but the candles remained lit. Eventually, the three blew on each candle individually until the candles were out once again.

Around the table, adults were laughing and smiling at the children’s antics. When the three finished, there was a round of clapping and Hiro made some exaggerated bows, mimicked by his nieces. “See?” Hiro smiled at his mother.

Ranma let her smile grow a little more as she sat down. “My way was easier.” She teased.

“But ours was more fun!” Kasumi’s twins chorused.

Ranma nodded, slowly dropping her bright face to the expressionless husk it normally was. She watched as Nodoka and Kasumi passed out the pieces until a tug came from her kimono’s sleeve.

“Momma?”

“Yes, Hiro-kun?”

Hiro got closer and whispered into her ear. “What did you wish for?”

A sly glance to her son and Ranma whispered back, “It’s a secret.”

“I promise not to tell.” Hiro piped up, catching the attention of the others in the room.

“Well, if you promise.” She smiled. Out of the corner of her eye, Ranma saw Soun watching her with worried interest. Probably thinking I wished for his death, she thought. “I wished to see you in the new gi I bought for you.”

Hiro smiled. “I can do that, momma! I’ll be right back!” He ran off for his room, Nabiki’s old room.

Most of the adults gave her curious glances, but it wasn’t their attention she cared for. Of the people in the room, only she and Soun understood the true intent of her wish. Ranma looked Soun straight in the eyes with the same burning hatred she had held since their marriage.

Soun swallowed and tried to concentrate on his cake. He choked for a moment, getting a pat on the back to dislodge the food he had swallowed. Soun choked some more.

When the coughing continued for another long moment, it caught everyone’s attention. Dr. Toufuu was at the Tendou patriarch’s side immediately. The Heimleich maneuver didn’t work and Toufuu tried some quick pressure points, still no change. Whatever was going on, the man was not choking on anything but air.

Soun continued for another minute, being set down on his stomach while the doctor checked him over more closely. After a long pause, Toufuu stood up and asked for some help to carry Soun into his bedroom.

Ranma remained behind, slowly taking bites from her cake. She was feeling better by the second.

*       *       *

Upon Soun’s request, Ranma found herself in the master bedroom, alone with her husband. They stared at each other for a few minutes in silence. Ranma held her arms crossed over her chest as she stood at the foot of his bed.

“Dr. Toufuu tells me my condition is the result of poisoning. There is nothing that can be done to save me he says.” Searching her eyes, he continued to talk with an edge in his voice. “Is this your doing?” He demanded.

“No.” Ranma answered simply. “I was not the one to poison you.”

“Who?” He demanded again.

Ranma gave him a twisted little smile and slowly started for the door. Before she left, her voice carried to his ears, light and playful. “Rice makes a healthy dinner, but a poor drink.”

The door slid shut quietly. Dr. Toufuu was waiting for her on the other side, a disapproving look on his face. “If you knew, you should have taken him to a doctor.”

“I did nothing to hurt him, Son, as he did nothing to help me.”

The past three years she watched Soun’s aura turn a dark green, consistent with the poison that was slowly eating away at his system. The sword wound had done wonderfully to speed up the process of his deteriorating health. Each bottle of sake he drank brought him that much closer to this day. A little nudge to his anxiety, like a celebration, and she was given front row seats to the very moment Soun’s life was thrown into the abyss.

Ono nodded. “It was his own fault then, I suppose.”

*       *       *

“What happened?” Akane asked, though she was more interested in finding out how soon her father would be dead. She watched the doctor take his wife’s hand and indicated that they should go. “Where’s Ranma?”

Dr. Toufuu’s jaw muscles tightened at the thought of what must be going on. “Your father has asked Okaasan”, emphasizing the title, “to comfort him in his final moments.”

Akane’s hand came to her mouth as she gasped in surprise, reflexively gripping her boyfriend’s shirt tighter. She gazed about the room to see if she had heard correctly. Nabiki’s face had turned green and she hurried off for the bathroom. Kasumi tripped on a piece of carpet, catching herself on the couch before her daughters would tumble after her. Nodoka... A frightening look came over Grandma Saotome’s face as she tightened her grip on the katana in her hand.

A few minutes later, everyone had left the Tendou dojo, seeking refuge from the terrible visions in their heads within the safety of their homes. Having no place to go, Akane took Hiro to the dojo, protecting the young boy from his mother’s screams. They spent the night there, Akane crying and holding Hiro closely.

Just die, you bastard, Akane prayed. DiediediediedieDIEDIEDIE!!!

*       *       *

Back in the master bedroom, Ranma was glaring at her husband in silent hatred. He had ordered her to strip and was feeling up her body with his disgusting hands, pinching and groping as he went. He covered every inch of her body with his vile taint, mauling her breasts with strong hands and slobbering mouth.

She closed her eyes as she usually did, moving through her katas in her mind, but he wanted her to suffer much more this time. Ranma had to bite her tongue to keep from screaming the first time he bit down on her nipples. His right hand was playing roughly with her sex, digging into her with his fingers like he wanted to pull her inside out.

When Ranma could no longer block the pain, she began to curse him quietly, still refusing to scream though the pain was becoming terrible.

Soun tried to silence her with a firm grip around her throat and plunging his tongue into her mouth.

Ranma snapped, drawing blood from the invading organ. He tried to pull out, but Ranma tightened her hold on him, blood dribbled down her chin and dripped off of her chest.

Soun screamed and pulled futilely, finally settling for hitting her across the face.

Landing with a thud, Ranma felt dazed for a moment, long enough for Soun to get between her legs. She felt his penis press against her dry sex and press into her. This time, the pain was overwhelming and she let out a scream.

The bouncing and pistoning motions of his hips, caused Ranma breasts to bounce and Soun dropped his mouth back onto each fleshy mound, pulling and pinching with his teeth. He loved the sound of the redhead’s scream. This was how it should’ve been from the beginning, he thought bitterly. Always being gentle with this bitch when I should have been making her scream.

“That’s it!” He bellowed. “Scream you bitch!”

Through gnashed teeth, Ranma snarled at her tormentor. “You bastard.”

Soun laughed and kept up his abuse of her body, causing Ranma to scream throughout the night. He used her as he had dreamed of since the first time, taking her from behind and punching her in the face when she bit.

The night resounded with Soun’s roars of pleasure, coming in sync with Ranma’s howls of pain.

*       *       *

The sun rose slowly over the horizon, bathing the city in a new light. Things seemed brighter and more alive than they had in a long time. It was as though the morning was washing away the filth with every penetrating ray of light.

Akane came out of hers and Hiro’s impromptu camping trip in the dojo to see Ranma. The redhead had her eyes closed as she stood, feeling the caress of the day’s heat upon her body. She was dressed in her simple nightgown, large purple and black bruises riding up along her arms and across her face.

Akane wanted to cry at the pain Ranma had to endure in her life. She did her best to hide her tears behind small hands. It didn’t help to stifle the sobbing, but Ranma continued to relax before the sun. Her father’s death should have been a sad occasion, but Akane wanted to celebrate and jump up in joy.

Okaasan had won her life back again!

Taking a deep breath, Ranma relaxed her body entirely. The pain she felt made it hard to walk, sit, or even breathe, but she had never felt so wonderful in her life.

Soun had been yelling at her as he raped her from behind when he suddenly fell quiet. His weight suddenly crushed her weakened body onto the ground and she could feel his heart through her back. It was a sweet, silent drum, slowly coming to a stop. She listened to its final beat, savoring the freedom she had prayed for for so long. Finding new strength in her body, she pushed the dead body off of her, knocking it to the floor like a pile of garbage.

Covered in his fluids, Ranma stood up to glare at the man who had denied her for so long. She spat in his face and made a quick walk to the furo, pouring bucket after bucket of cold water over her body and scrubbing all over with a strong bristled brush.

Every stroke to clean herself of his filth represented another layer of pain she endured in his servitude. Everything she had to give up for honor and duty was obvious in each bruise upon her body.

Ranma scrubbed harder, bleeding her wounds until the brush was stained red through bristle and wood handle. When she finished, Ranma had shed a layer of skin so thick she could finally weep. It was a wonderful day when she no longer had to live under Soun’s thumb.

Opening her eyes again, seemingly for the first time in years, Ranma smiled as she twirled about the yard, crying tears of joy as she went. Becoming dizzy from happiness, she collapsed onto the ground, laughing and crying into the sky. “Go to Hell, you bastard!” She screamed. “Go to Hell and burn!”

Unable to hold back any longer, Akane started to weep openly. “O-Okaasan!” She ran to Ranma’s side and picked the redhead up in her arms, hiding her face in Ranma’s neck. Together they cried and shouted their curses to a dead man.

*       *       *

“What will you do now?” Kasumi asked as she helped Ranma pack her backpack. The first thing Ranma wanted was to take her son away from this place. There were too many bad memories within these walls.

She was still wearing her nightgown as she went about, pulling out things to take on her trip. Finally, she and Hiro would go on a long training trip together until they found their place in the world. It wasn’t here any longer, that was certain.

Ranma smiled as she found an old pair of black pants and a silk Chinese shirt. Laying them out reverently on the bed, she let her fingers trace the dragon design along the fabric. “I will raise my son to be a happy and strong man.” She announced with determination. Ranma would give her son everything she had not gotten, a real life. She would not engage him off like Genma had done to her and she would protect him from curses and forbidden training techniques. Hiro would be a disciple of the Art, not its slave.

Picking up the old clothes, Ranma ducked behind a changing screen. Akane happened to be at a good angle to see her ‘mother’ change in the mirror's reflection. There were more bruises along Ranma’s back and particularly nasty wound along her side, like a rib was broken. Her grip on the back of a desk chair became tight and strained. They had each seen the bruising along Ranma’s arms, face, and neck, and had speculated that it hadn’t stopped there, but to talk about it and see it were two different things.

“Akane, what’s wrong?” Nabiki asked as she sidled up next to her sister. Following Akane’s gaze, she and Kasumi gasped in surprise.

The shock had registered with Ranma and she whipped about to see what was going on. As she turned around, the Tendou sisters received a full, unobstructed view of Ranma’s front. The chair snapped in Akane’s hands.

“Okaasan!” They each cried and turned around to face Ranma with very worried expressions and not just a little bit of disgust for their father.

Ranma frowned and pulled the changing screen around a little further to hide herself better. With her privacy returned, she gave her body a good look over. Most of the bruises were painful, but temporary. The cracked rib on her side would take a while to heal and may not do so properly, but there was nothing that could be done. The cold shower and fierce scrubbing she had given herself had washed away most of the sperm, blood, and sweat, but their causes were still quite obvious. There were vicious bite marks around her nipples and vagina; they had bled the worst. A field of welts crossed over her chest and stomach, trailing down to her sex and all along the junction of her legs. Soun had left scratch marks along her thighs and the sides of her breasts. She looked horrible.

Much more somberly, Ranma pulled on her old clothes, grunting in pain when she had to move a particularly battered part of her body. Taking a deep breath when she finished, Ranma stepped out from around her screen and sat down at her vanity mirror. It was more like a shaving mirror, but Ranma didn’t wear make-up except for the times Soun ordered her to.

She combed her hair slowly, working out each of the knots then pulling all the hair back to tie it up in a pigtail. When Ranma finished, what she saw looked wrong, a faded memory of a woman that had died a long time ago. “This is no longer me, is it?” She asked herself out loud.

“It can be, in time, if you want.” Kasumi tried to sound supportive and encouraging, but it sounded hollow and broken. None of the girls seemed to be holding up to well after seeing the results of their father’s... of Soun’s despicable nature.

The girls were clinging off of each other like a security blanket. Ranma could see that. Though she hadn’t gotten a lot of time to be a mother to her daughters-in-law, she had some idea of what to do after raising Hiro. “If you promise not to squeeze to hard, I could use a hug.”

Trembling slightly, the sisters took a few steps to their ‘mother’. Akane began the first tentative attempts to embrace her Okaasan. When Ranma didn’t pull away, she latched herself onto the redhead and cried. The other two followed soon after and Ranma found herself surrounded by people who loved her and cared for her.

*       *       *

She stood at the front door, a new set of clothes accompanying her new life. Her daughters had said there good-byes and enjoyed one fine day together, hoping that it would not be their last. Ranma had her hair cut to a short cut of spiky tufts so that it would all grow out evenly as the years passed, the pigtail no longer suited her. Akane, Kasumi, and Nabiki helped her find a new training outfit, consisting of black slacks, white t-shirts, a comfortable jacket with adjusting straps, and a dark spandex suit for underwear that would support either form.

The katana she continued to hold in her right hand, the leather strap of the scabbard wound multiple times around her palm. It was the only weapon she would ever carry, her mother’s strength and honor. The backpack had a few changes of clothes, tent and sleeping bag, cooking utensils, toiletries, and various bags of dry foods.

*       *       *

Akane sat down with her sisters in Kasumi’s home; no one had wanted to return to the dojo. She had in her hand a note, written earlier that week by Ranma. Okaasan, a title she now hated and cherished, wanted to leave quietly in the morning to start off her new life. A life filled with happiness and health, something she wanted Hiro to enjoy and to relive her childhood through her son’s eyes.

The message on front of the envelope was simple and sweet. Each stroke of the character had a tender heart behind it. Reverently, she opened the letter and began to read it out loud for her sisters.

*       *       *

“Hiya, mom!” Hiro rushed into the front hallway, a smaller yet stuffed backpack on his shoulders. He had never seen his mom so vibrant and alive. Father had died, he knew, but Hiro felt no sadness, instead it was like a weight had been lifted.

Ranma smiled at her active child, eager for the new adventure his mother was going to lead him into. His new gi made Hiro look so strong and sure of himself, ‘manly’ as her mother would say. “Good morning, sweetie. Are you all ready?”

The little boy nodded and tightened the straps around his shoulders. “You look different, Okaasan.”

“Do you like it?” She asked, posing for a moment, one hand behind her head and the other resting on her hip.

“Yeah! I think you look cool! Like those guys in the arcade games!” Hiro’s eyes gleamed as he pictured his mom as the greatest fighter in the world. That was what all of his sisters said she was. They would tell him, ‘Hiro, our mom used to be the greatest fighter in all of Japan’, then in a lower voice, ‘but I think she’s the best in the world. Don’t tell her that, though. She might get a swelled head’. Hiro hadn’t understood the last part, but he knew it was true. His mom was the greatest martial artist in the world!

*       *       *

She began:

“Dear Daughters,

For the longest time, my life, was never truly my own. It had been one trial after another, and for some purpose I could not understand when I was younger. There were many times I wanted to give up and let the pain of my life consume me. Each time I stopped or faltered, death would gain ground in our race. But each time I found strength from you, my friends, and now, my child. I stood back up and stared at life head on; I would never let any of you down.

I thought my life had truly ended that day I was married to Soun. Though I can not come to call that man your father, I do know that who he was and the man I married were not the same people. There was nothing I could do to find out why he had changed, I can only hope the real Soun Tendou never meets the monster we lived with.

Every day of our marriage, I fought. It was a long and silent battle, but each day I gained new ground. Stripped of my dignity and my identity, I struggled on, fighting for the day I would see my torment ended.

Know that I never blamed any of you. Akane, you likely saved your brother’s life by bringing me back, so do not cry. Kasumi, I know you feel guilty for leaving, but I understand why. Take care of Toufuu and make the most of your life. And Nabiki, each time I see you, it is behind a veil of regret and remorse. Whatever sin you believe you have committed is in the past. The past, my daughters, can not be changed, but it can be forgotten, now. I love you all, my daughters.”

*       *       *

Mother and son walked into the brisk morning. The evening dew, having settled on the ground, gave the streets a newly polished look.

“Where are we going first, Okaasan?” Hiro asked, his hand clasped in hers.

She answered pointing with her finger in the right direction.

“The mountains, Hiro-kun. In the North.”

“Why?”

Ranma closed her eyes as she felt the morning breeze sift through her hair. “They are a place of new beginnings, where you will begin to learn of your destiny and the person that makes you, you.” To herself, Ranma added, “A place where the past can be buried as we train to rise above it all.”

Days later, someone would tell Ranma that Soun was buried with a single witness to his funeral, a gravedigger. To which she would simply smile and respond, “You are mistake sir, for I felt him buried long ago.”

*       *       *

“I was born a boy and raised to be a man, spending sixteen years of my life in that pursuit. Having lived a third of my life as a woman, wife, and mother. One time, I would have called you sisters or even fiancée. Now, I call you daughters, as anyone would be proud to do so. I used to dream of a day when things would return to the way they were, but my heart has changed, brightened by your smiles and filled with your love.

Perhaps someday, I can find myself becoming the Okaasan you girls deserve.

Love,

Ranma Tendou”

Akane stood up, handing the letter over to Kasumi as she finished. Walking resolutely to the corner of the room, she hefted a large backpack and headed for the door.

“Where are you going, Akane?” Nabiki asked, clearing the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her shirt.

Out the window, Akane could see the northern range, capped in snow and providing visions of destiny for those who gazed deeply enough upon them. “I’m going to make sure she knows the way back.”

“Do you think that is what she wants?”

“Of course.” Akane replied with great faith.

Looking up from the letter she still held, Kasumi asked, “How do you know?”

Opening the door and stepping out into a cool breeze, Akane breathed in deeply before answering. “She’s Okaasan.”

The sisters smiled at Akane’s determination and devotion and watched her set off into the world, to follow in her mother’s footsteps. She headed North.