Playing House

[TravestyHat]

It was a week ago that Happosai died. He was an old man and it had been natural causes, albeit under circumstances sufficiently embarrassing that nobody was eager to discuss them. The service was a modest one: to say that he was a controversial figure in the community was putting it mildly, but on the whole everyone agreed that he had lived a full, fulfilling, frustrating, sad, creepy, obnoxious, unpleasant and wholly inappropriate life. But with his passing came the need to see to his effects, and today was the day for that to happen.

When Ranma opened the door to the downstairs guest bedroom, he and Akane were hit with a gust of stale air. "Oh god, it reeks in here! When was the last time the little creep cleaned up this place?"

Akane just rolled her eyes and pulled a cloth over her nose and mouth. "Like he'd ever do his own cleaning. Kasumi hasn't had a chance to come in here for months."

"Okay but I don't see why we have to do it."

"The same reason we have to do everything: our parents made us."

"Sure, but they're not here right now." And they weren't: they'd delivered their lecture to Ranma and Akane about needing to stand together in the face of adversity with backpacks slung over their shoulders before walking out the door to honor the master's memory with a training trip and, presumably, drinking.

Akane prodded Ranma with the roll of trash bags. "Will you quit complaining and just get in there already? You're in my way."

As they entered the room they took a moment to survey the damage. It wasn't minor: empty bottles and incense holders lay everywhere, not to mention the pile of women's underwear that had been pushed into one corner like nothing so much as the largest hamster bed in Tokyo. Thankfully the sliding doors leading outside had been left open a crack - a thoroughly overflowing ashtray lay next to them - but the late afternoon August air was still and hot and a fug hung over the room.

Ranma rolled up his sleeves and opened the doors all the way before grabbing a garbage bag. "All right, let's split this up. How about I take care of the magazines and you take care of the bottles and clean the ashes out of the incense holders?"

Akane snorted. "Oh sure, leave me with most of the work while you look at perverted pictures."

"It ain't like that! Do you wanna pick up his porn?"

"Of course not! But that still doesn't mean you can foist all the work off on me just because I'm a girl!"

"I didn't say it was- you know what, never mind. I'll take care of the bottles too. And let's make a pile for weird junk that might be worth something."

"You mean antiques," Akane scoffed, already dumping ashes into a bag.

"Right, those." He sighed and got to work, letting the clatter of glass on glass fill the icy silence that followed. Eventually he felt like he had to say something, so he did. "He really let this place go, didn't he? And now we're the ones who've gotta pick up after all of it."

Akane added a scroll to the pile by the door, alongside two small pots, a lacquered comb and some assorted netsuke of varying quality. "Do you really want to talk about that, Ranma?"

"What? C'mon, you know what I mean. He could've done something , right?" But he could feel Akane's mood darkening from across the room: this was the wrong thing to say.

"You're right, he did leave us with a mess to take care of. But you are the last person I want to talk about that with!"

Ranma blinked. "What are you talking… wait a minute." Recognition dawned, far too late. "Wait, is this about Shampoo ruining your lunch last month? I told you, she got our lunches mixed up and anyway you didn't wind up eating it." Not that she would have been able to: whatever potion she'd put in had clearly expired and the smell when Akane opened her bento that afternoon had cleared out the classroom.

"No, it's not about Shampoo ruining my lunch. And it's not about Kodachi setting fire to the roof with those fireworks of hers-"

"The Love Whistle Rockets? How was that-"

"- and," she continued, ignoring him, "it's not about that traveling salesman who almost stole our koi pond because of you!"

"Okay I'm still not sure how that was supposed to work ."

"It's about all of them, Ranma!" She angrily dumped out more stale ash. "I don't know if you get this, but things like this didn't used to happen here! People keep showing up at our door with a grudge or a proposal or just some ridiculous scheme, and it's always about you!"

Ranma dropped his bag with a groan. "I didn't ask for any of that, Akane! Do you think I want to have to put up with it? Half the time it's something pops did and I'm just the one they blame!"

"You wish it was half the time." She'd stopped shouting, at least. "And even still, what are you doing to fix any of it? It's been two years, Ranma. We'll be graduating soon, and I don't want to have to be studying for my entrance exams while ducking whoever decides they need to settle something with you. Honestly," she added, sounding more frustrated than anything, "you need to stop resting on your laurels already."

"Hey, I'm cleaning too! I just put it down for a second, is all." Ranma said, pulling a few bottles from a high shelf, adding them to the bag and tying it off before opening a new one.

"I'm not talking about that. You brag about being unbeatable in a fight but what do you even want to do with your martial arts?"

"Do? It's martial arts. You fight."

"For what? If I had your skill I'd try to find something constructive to do with it! I'd teach! I'd go to real tournaments! I'd at least try to settle some of those problems you didn't ask for!"

Ranma just shook his head. "Yeah, well, you don't. Maybe you'll get there in a few years and maybe then you'll get it, but I've been doing this my whole life."

"And you think I ha-"

"My whole life, Akane! Not just after school and on breaks. It's not the same thing."

Akane glowered at him. "Oh, so the reason I couldn't hope to catch up with you is because I have a life? Is that it?" She threw the bag aside and stormed up to him. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe if you helped me instead of just mocking me whenever I tried I could be just as good as you are?"

Ranma stopped picking through bottles and stared down at her, hands on hips. "Oh sure, because we both know there's nothing you like more than taking criticism from me! That'd work out just great!" he said, rolling his eyes.

"Maybe if your criticism wasn't just you being a huge jerk about everything I would!"

A voice spoke up behind the two of them, gently chiding. "Now Akane, was that really called for? I'm sure Ranma didn't mean it like that." Kasumi stepped into the room with a tray, some tea and rice crackers. "I thought you two might want a break so I brought you a snack."

Ranma relaxed and helped himself to a cracker. "See? Thanks, Kasumi. I knew you'd understand me."

Kasumi, for her part, gave Ranma a look of mild disappointment. "But at the same time you really should try to be more thoughtful, Ranma. You're fiancées, after all."

The word hung in the air awkwardly: Ranma and Akane turned and went back to cleaning in tense silence. Kasumi smiled again, the polite smile of a dedicated peacemaker. "Maybe I could help? There's a lot in here, after all."

Akane shook her head, stuffing a tasteless novelty ashtray into the garbage bag before joining the other two. "It's okay, Kasumi, really. You've done plenty around the house: you don't have to do all of this."

"Maybe not, but it's always nice to help out others, isn't it? I could just keep you company. Why don't I start sorting these while you eat?" she said, gesturing to the pile of tchotchkes that had been assembled for later examination.

But the two just made noncommittal noises and sat down, munching crackers, sipping tea and pointedly looking away from one another. A few minutes passed like a few years in this manner before Kasumi began quietly giggling to herself.

"What is it, Kasumi?" Akane asked, looking up from her tea to see that her sister had unrolled the scroll she'd found earlier.

"I was curious so I had a look. It says it's the Kitsune Sutra: the story is… odd," she said, but she was smiling, "but there's a strange drawing here." She held out the scroll and pointed. "Isn't it just the silliest thing?"

Akane obliged her and had a look: it was, indeed, a strange little drawing. 'Drawing' might even have been too strong a word for it: it was nothing more than a crude ink doodle that nonetheless held a prominent space in the text, with everything written around it. It was an animal, that much was clear, but beyond that… Akane blinked, more perplexed than amused. "It's certainly a funny-looking tanuki," she conceded.

"Wait, tanuki? Isn't it the Kitsune Sutra?" Ranma set aside his own work and looked at it over Kasumi's other shoulder. "What're you talking about? That's obviously a kitsune, see? Look at that tail."

Akane shook her head. "Don't be dense, Ranma. There's a tanuki in the story too. See?" Ranma followed her pointing finger. Indeed, the story was a conversation between a kitsune and a tanuki. "And anyway look at the ba-" she said, cutting herself off suddenly and blushing just slightly.

Ranma smirked. "Oh I get it. I guess we know who the real pervert here is, don't we?"

Akane only turned redder and folded her arms across her chest, letting go of her end of the scroll (leaving Kasumi to grab it before it fell). "I'm saying that it's probably a metaphor of some kind, dummy! Not that I'd expect you to understand."

Once again it was Kasumi to the rescue. "Now, now, I'm sure it's meant to be open to interpretation. There's no wrong answer, and certainly nothing to fight over," she said in a reassuring, soothing tone.

The two of them looked to her, then to one another and quickly looked away. "Whatever," Ranma said, holding one arm by the elbow with his other. "It's just a weird drawing."

"I never said it wasn't," Akane said without looking at him.

Kasumi rolled the scroll back up and set it aside. "That's right. Now why don't we try to finish cleaning this up? I'm sure that between the three of us it won't be so bad."

This time nobody argued with her, and indeed while it wasn't the most pleasant of chores they were able to tackle it over the course of the afternoon and then left it behind to enjoy the rest of their respective days.

Unnoticed by any of them, the doodle drew its lips back into a smirk that was just as poorly drawn as everything else about it.

---

It was night, a hot and humid one that offered no relief from the relentless summer. Ranma was grateful that his father was off and away: even when he wasn't a panda Genma was hardly a considerate sleeper and Ranma never liked sharing a room with him. But now he tossed and turned, eyes darting back and forth behind his closed eyelids.

The field behind the school and another duel with Ryouga, the two surrounded by the usual crowd eager to see a fight. "Blah blah blah , Saotome! Today is the day I blah you once and for blah!" the other boy said, a wolfish grin on his face as he launched himself at Ranma, umbrella snapping forward at the last moment in a vicious lunge.

Ranma effortlessly sidestepped the blow, leaving him to slam into a tree. The gathered crowd of amazed students cheered his brilliant feat, murmuring among themselves about how incredible he was. "C'mon, Ryouga, you'll have to try harder than that! Let's give these people a real fight! On second thought," he added with a chuckle, "if you're not gonna try maybe I shouldn't drag this out." He put his hands together, letting the roiling heat of his confidence gather between them into the by now familiar glowing ball of energy.

"Doing a great job there, Ranma my boy! But I think you forgot something." Above Ryouga, sitting on a branch with his feet dangling, pipe in his hands, was Happosai. He smirked at Ranma, a crude, foxy little smile.

"Stay outta this, you old perv." said Ranma, concentrating on holding the accumulated ki together. "I don't need you to tell me how to do this." His classmates all applauded his snappy comeback: he was easily the coolest person they knew.

Happosai nodded, took a puff of his pipe and blew out a ring of smoke. He stretched out, the better to give his enormous ba… undercarriage some room. "I'm sure you don't. I'm sure you know what's best. Only, I wonder…"

"What? Will you spit it out already so I can get back to the fight?"

"If you know what you're doing, why're you wearing Akane's clothes?"

The Moukou Takabisha dissipated entirely as Ranma looked down, horrified. It was true! Here he was in pitched combat with his rival, dressed in one of his fiancée's silk shirts and her baggy black pants, and everyone could see him!

"Ranma, what on Earth were you thinking?" The incredulous crowd parted to let Akane through. "I can't believe you'd do something like this," she said, pointing an accusatory finger at him. "In public, no less!"

Shame weighed down on him and he could hear the whispers and the snickering of the crowd as he tried to think of an explanation. "Akane, I swear I don't know what happened! This wasn't my idea!"

She turned up her nose and 'hmmf'ed. "Oh sure, a likely story. It doesn't matter one way or the other: take it off!"

"You heard her, Saotome!" Ryouga added, scowling with obvious irritation. "Take it off and get out of the way already!"

Ranma backed away from the sheer combined ferocity of the two until his back was against the tree, and still everyone was staring at him. "But Akane, I can't do that here! I'll be naked!"

Just then, Kasumi came into the kitchen, still wearing her gi and with a bundle in her hands. "Ranma, dear? I'm sorry to bother you while you're cooking but I wanted to return these to you." She proffered it to the smaller girl. "It was very nice of you to offer but I just don't think they would fit me. You should have them back."

Ranma turned away from the stove and accepted the bundle: a blouse, skirt and apron, all neatly folded. "Oh, of course," she said, "I don't know why I thought they would. Only… these aren't mine, are they?"

"They fit you, don't they? Who else could they be for?" Kasumi asked with a sunny smile.

They did fit her. And she couldn't keep wearing what she was wearing, after all, especially not with everyone watching. But Ranma hesitated. "No, something about this isn't right."

Akane dodged another attack from Ryouga, tagging him with a rapid series of blows as behind her the crowd broke into another cheer. "What are you talking about? They're obviously yours, Ranma. Stop being a pain and just get changed already!"

Sitting cross-legged on the counter top Happosai nodded along, fluffy but terribly-drawn tail swishing back and forth lazily. "I'd listen to her if I were you. She sounds mad."

"You'll feel so much better in them, Ranma. Don't they look comfortable?" Kasumi took the blouse from her hands and held it up. "Isn't it lovely?"

Ranma nodded sheepishly. "It is, I just don't know that I'm supposed to be…"

Happosai shook his head sadly. "This'll be so much easier if you just play along, Ranma my boy. Oh well," he said, spinning from weary resignation to gleeful mirth without missing a beat, "you'll learn!"

Akane, exasperated, shook her head and stormed away from the fight over to Ranma. "Honestly, we can't wait around all day!" She grabbed her and, ignoring the smaller girl's protests, began unbuttoning her shirt. "If you're going to be ridiculous about this I'll just have to take care of you myself." She began pulling it up over Ranma's head…

---

Ranma sat up on his futon, startled and confused. Already the dream was receding from his awareness, leaving him only a lingering sense of shame, helplessness, and… he shook his head to clear his thoughts. "Been a while since I've had one that weird," he said to nobody in particular.

He stood and, wiping the sleep from his eyes, opened the dresser and decided what to wear for the day. This took longer than usual, with Ranma spending some time looking through his options indecisively before settling on his orange shirt with the red bow tie and his usual black pants. He wasn't really happy about it, though: something about it felt awkward and uncomfortable, out of place.

Then he sat down in front of the mirror he kept propped up in one corner of the room. He noticed that his hair was starting to look a little frizzy. "I gotta stop sleeping with it up." With a sigh he undid his braid and grabbed a simple wooden boar-bristle brush that Kasumi had gotten him: loose, his hair was a little more than shoulder-length. He briefly found himself thinking about how it would look if he left it down or tried something a little more elaborate than his usual pigtail. Maybe Akane might like that?

"What am I thinking?" he muttered: the thought had come from nowhere. He brushed his hair out with long, slow strokes, taking care to start from the ends before working his way up. Like with dressing it took longer than it usually did but by the time he was done he liked the result enough that he took a moment to admire it in the mirror before quickly redoing his braid and heading downstairs.

The dojo was empty when he entered, which was usually the case when his father was away on a trip with Soun. It wasn't anything he talked about but he liked the quiet: it was one of the few times he could rely on having to himself, using the mindless-yet-mindful act of going through kata to help him prepare for whatever the day had in store.

Today, though, Ranma just stood there. For whatever reason he couldn't think of where to start. He knew he should do a warm-up exercise before moving on to the more intense stuff but he was drawing a complete blank. "I didn't sleep that badly, did I?"

After a few more minutes spent in fruitless mental wheel-spinning he decided that he needed to do something to get going, and it was then that he saw the dust on the floor and remembered that they hadn't gotten to this part yesterday. He frowned, grabbed a cleaning rag from the storage cabinet, filled a bucket of water and started cleaning.

It was mindless work, first running from one side of the dojo to the other pushing the rag in front of him and then going back over it with a more careful eye, but like with the kata it was a pleasant sort of mindlessness that helped him compose his thoughts and wake up. By the time he was done with the floor he was feeling energized and pleased enough with himself that he started looking for more he could do.

"You're not finished with practice already, are you?"

Ranma, who had been carefully wiping down the frame for the calligraphy scroll they kept on the wall, jumped in surprise. He'd been so engrossed in the act that he hadn't heard anyone enter, but there was Akane dressed to train. He spun around and composed himself. "Oh! Akane! Practice?" It took a second before he remembered why he'd come in here in the first place and shook his head. "No. I hadn't started, actually: I guess I got sidetracked." He gave a sheepish grin, embarrassed that he'd lost track of what he was doing like that.

Akane looked at him with mild confusion but quickly recovered and started doing kata. "Okay. Are you ready to spar or do you need a moment?"

Ranma paused. He was never all that comfortable with the thought of fighting Akane but right now it didn't appeal to him at all . Was he just in a bad mood, maybe? "I think I'll exercise to wake up first."

With that he began doing some stretches, the two of them once again working alongside one another in silence. Ranma watched Akane move through the stances of one form to the next in quick succession with movements that mingled grace, speed, power and a fierce discipline that made him feel warm and a little flustered.

Eventually she stopped, looking back at him. "Ranma?" she asked, somewhat dubious. "Do you maybe want to move on to something a little more intense?"

"Huh?"

"The stretches. They're a little basic, don't you think?"

Were they? Ranma hadn't thought of that: he'd just gone with the first stretches he could think of, and they felt perfectly serviceable to him. But Akane's expression made him bristle. Who was she to tell him he was doing it wrong? "I know what I'm doing, Akane. Maybe I don't need as much of a warm-up as you do."

"Oh? Does that mean you're ready, then?"

"I mean," he said, off-balance, "yeah, sure." He stopped stretching and the two stood to face one another and bowed. Akane immediately launched herself at him with a fierce shout: Ranma, feeling a sudden and wholly unexpected panic, let out a yelp and held his arms up in front of his face.

This stopped Akane dead in her tracks. "What was that? " she asked, baffled.

What was that? Ranma just shook his head. "I, it was nothing! I was just…" He tried to think of an explanation. "You surprised me! I wasn't ready!"

"Then don't say you're ready! Sheesh!" She stepped away from him, back to where she'd started, then turned and waited. "Whenever you're ready," she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"All right, let's do this," said Ranma and he casually dropped into a ready stance.

At least, he tried to.

He was off-kilter. He shifted his body around, trying to adjust; raising his arms, then lowering them; shifting his weight forward and back. But no matter how he moved it wasn't quite right. He should have felt relaxed and confident, but instead it was more like he was trying to hold an unfamiliar pose he'd only ever watched someone do.

After a minute or two of this he could see that Akane was annoyed and getting more so as she waited. "Well? Are we doing this or aren't we?"

"What? No, I'm ready! Ready if you are." Ranma held out his fists in front of him, then thought better of it and pulled them back to his waist. Still wrong.

"Then come at me already! I'm not letting you get away with saying I started too soon twice, Ranma."

"Okay! I'm coming!" Obviously Ranma was going to have to take the offensive here, but for the life of him he couldn't think of what to do. Some kind of kick, maybe? But what if he missed? And still Akane waited, lips pursed.

Finally Ranma couldn't take it anymore. He ran at her, flailing his arms and giving a half-hearted attempt at a kiai.

Then he was flat on his back and blinking. Akane had seized one of his arms, pivoted and threw him over her shoulder, sending him crashing down.

"Hah! I can't believe that worked," Akane crowed. "You all right?" she asked, over her shoulder. "I tried to make sure you landed okay. That was sloppy , Ranma: keep that up and I'll catch up to you in no time."

Ranma lay on the floor for a second, too stunned to answer her. How did this happen? He could barely follow the sequence in his head.

"Ranma? Earth to Ranma? Are you okay?" Akane was standing over him, waving a hand in front of his face.

"What? I'm fine!" He snapped out of his daze and stood up, pushing away the hand she offered him. "Let's do this again. Round two, okay?"

"I think you mean round three," Akane said with a smirk. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I said I'm fine, Akane!" He wasn't. He had no idea why he was so distracted.

"Look, we can just do kata if you like. You don't have to force yourself if you're not up for it. I had my win today." She was entirely too pleased with herself and not trying to hide it.

Ranma bristled again but then just deflated and sighed. No reason to humiliate himself a third time. "That might be a good idea."

"All right, what do you want to do, then?"

"Oh! What about…" he tried to think of something to suggest but just like when they were sparring he was drawing a complete blank, so he offered her another sheepish smile. "Why don't you pick?"

Akane put her hand on her forehead. "The day you're having I'm thinking Taikyoku."

Ranma gave a quick nod, eager to grasp at a suggestion. "Yes, Taikyoku! That sounds like a great idea." Another silence, just as awkward as the one before. "Could you remind me how that one goes? I must be more tired than I thought."

Akane boggled at him. "Are you serious? It's a basic kata! It's practically the basic kata! This isn't some joke, is it?" Ranma shook her head and so she sighed. "Fine, whatever." She took up a stance. "Like this."

Ranma tried to imitate her, but she groaned, shook her head and nudged his feet with hers and turned his shoulders. "Like this , Ranma. Or do we need to take a day off here?"

He wanted to complain at being manhandled but it did feel more natural. "I can do this, Akane," he said, sullen.

Akane snorted. "Sure doesn't look like it today. Just follow my lead, if you can manage that." She then went into the first position of the kata, crossing her arms in front of herself before pivoting to the left and blocking. "One!" She stepped forward and delivered a punch with her right hand: Ranma followed along.

"Two!" She spun on her heel to face him with another block. But this time when Ranma tried to mimic her his legs got tangled underneath him and he fell to the ground, tripping her in the process. By the time he'd caught up to what happened she was on top of him, barely having caught herself with her hands on either side of his head.

"Ranma, what is wrong with you today?"

"I-" Ranma opened his mouth to speak, but in the jumble and panic all he could think about was how close she was to him, the way she'd managed to perfectly pin him, how warm her brown eyes were and how soft her lips looked. His cheeks burned as he tried to think of something to say, and he could see that Akane was now blushing too.

A minute passed in silence, or maybe a year, staring at one another with her still on top of him. So close. If he leaned up, if she leaned down even a little bit they'd be close enough to

Suddenly there was a scream from inside the house and the moment broke. "Kasumi!" they both said in unison: Akane hastily stood up and offered Ranma a hand. This time he took it and they both hurried back into the house.

---

The kitchen was a disaster when they got there: the counters were a mess, with eggshell fragments and clumsily chopped vegetables all over. Smoke filled the room and Kasumi was at the stove fighting with something in the pan she was holding. Whatever it had started as it was now a burnt, foul-smelling mess that resisted her attempts to pull the spatula free. And Kasumi was anything but her usual serene self. "No, no, no no no let go! "

Akane ran in and turned off the stove, something Kasumi hadn't done yet. "Kasumi, what happened?"

"I don't know !" Kasumi gave up her struggle and put the pan down on an unused burner: Ranma noticed that she'd managed to stain her blouse somewhere along the way. "I decided an omelet might be a nice change of pace for breakfast and I got some ideas for improvements to the recipe, but I just don't know what I'm doing wrong! I was sure it would work out fine!"

Ranma glanced at the counter top and saw the bottle of vinegar and the jars of mayonnaise and sugar laid out. "Are you sure?" he asked, taking the pan from her and busying himself with cleaning it up in the sink. "I don't really see how these would help."

"It just seemed so boring! I thought a little tartness would be nice, and then I realized that if I added sugar it could be sweet and sour."

Akane watched this with a downright flabbergasted expression. "But what about the mayonnaise? How does that fit in? Even I can see that's a bad idea."

Kasumi blushed a little, but then shook her head and scowled. "It was looking a little too thick so I needed something to thin it out, and mayonnaise is made from eggs. It should have worked!" she said, huffily.

Akane sighed and rubbed her face with one hand. "Well, it doesn't look like it did. What are we going to do for breakfast now?"

Ranma stopped washing and inspected the pan: he'd gotten the spatula free but it was going to take a lot of cleaning before it'd be usable. An unfamiliar anxiety gnawed at him: if he didn't do something breakfast would be late and everyone would go hungry. And he couldn't let everyone go hungry. "Akane?" he asked, "Do you think you'd be willing to take over here? I want to have a look at something."

"What? Ranma, help us! Don't just walk away!"

Ranma shook his head and walked away from the sink. "I wasn't going to. Just give me a second, please?" He opened the fridge and had a look inside: Kasumi's experiment had done a good job of emptying it out and so there wasn't much left inside. He rolled up his sleeves. "I'll come up with something. Actually, put the pan away for now: I won't be needing it."

Akane watched him thoughtfully. "…all right, sure, I'll just get out of your way," she said as she left the room.

But Kasumi still looked irritated. "What about me, then?"

Ranma bit his lip, only now realizing that he was banishing Kasumi from her domain. "Maybe you could set the table? Bowls, plates and chopsticks." he offered, politely. That seemed to mollify her: she started pulling things out of cupboards and soon Ranma was alone in the kitchen.

He got to work, taking an apron off the peg and putting it on. Rice and soup stock needed to come first, so he started those before coming back to the refrigerator and taking out what he needed. Something was wrong here: he knew that much. As he started dicing the tofu and the green onions he turned his attention back to his sparring match with Akane.

That's where it all started. How had she beaten him so easily? He tried to picture the fight in his head to see where he'd gone wrong, but it was all a blur to him that was over as soon as he started and he noticed the stock was starting to boil, so he added the tofu and turned down the heat so it could simmer for a few minutes.

Did she learn some new technique, maybe? That might explain why he couldn't figure it out at least, but she seemed just as surprised to win as he was to lose. While the stock was still cooking he went back to the refrigerator and had another look. They were running behind schedule so there wasn't time for anything fancy, so he pulled out the remaining eggs and put them into a bowl for everyone to add to their rice. "Oh! Natto, then. Akane likes natto with her eggs." He got it out and spooned some into a dish and put it on the tray along with the soy sauce, nori and pickles. "That should be enough dishes," he said to himself with a smile.

By this time the soup was getting close to ready, so Ranma scooped out a bit of miso paste from the jar, added it to a ladle's worth of the soup, let it dissolve and had a taste. "Hmm, not quite." He added another dollop, about a third as much as before, and this time when he tried it he nodded. "There we are, much better." He added the mixture back to the soup and threw in the green onion before putting on the tea.

Before he knew it he was finished and everything was ready to be served. He grabbed the tray and carried it out of the kitchen and into the dining room, which was empty. "Breakfast is ready!" he called out as he laid out the dishes and poured tea for everyone, then sat down with a contented smile. He was about to take a sip of his own when there was a bright flash and he heard an all-too-familiar click.

---

"Getting domestic in your old age, Saotome?" Nabiki asked, pocketing the camera. She was clearly still sleepy - Nabiki was simply never a morning person - but the sight before her had clearly perked her up some. "It's a good look for you."

"A good look?" Ranma asked, confused.

Nabiki had a seat and started on her tea. "The apron."

Ranma looked down and saw that, yes, he was still wearing the apron. "Oh! I mean, I was making breakfast and all. I don't suppose you'd know anything about that," he added, testily. Something was nagging at him again: he shifted, trying and failing to get comfortable.

Stretching as she entered, Akane sat down and cracked an egg over her rice with a smirk on her face. "Are you sure you're okay, Ranma? Or did you find a new calling after that last fight?"

"Fighting again ?" It was Kasumi, who had changed into a sky blue blouse that Ranma thought was quite pretty. She looked annoyed. "Honestly, you two need to stop squabbling like children already. You're nearly adults, after all." She sat down and started eating.

"What?" Akane blinked, then shook her head, "No, I meant we were fighting . You know, sparring?" She grinned. "And I kicked his butt: it wasn't even a contest. Not bad, right?"

Ranma looked down into his rice bowl and tried not to blush. "It wasn't that bad," he said, bristling a little. "I'm just having a weird morning or something." It was more than that and he knew it, but he just didn't want to argue with her about it right now, so he switched topics. "And anyway you don't need to gloat about it so much."

"He's right, you know," said Kasumi, primly.

Nabiki, meanwhile, finished her miso soup and gave it an appraising 'hmm'. "I've gotta hand it to you, Ranma, this is good. Why the eggs, though? Were you in a hurry?"

This time Ranma did blush. "Thanks. I, uh, there was a bit of a situation in the kitchen and I had to improvise. I'm glad you liked it, though."

"A situation?" Akane snorted. "Come on, it was a disaster in there. What were you thinking, Kasumi?"

Kasumi, like Ranma, was also turning red, but it was definitely more irritation than embarrassment. "I was thinking people might want to try something new, Akane! Excuse me for wanting to experiment!"

Ranma bit his lip: he didn't like where this was going. "Now, there's no need to…"

But Akane cut him off, ignoring him. "You call that an experiment? Anyone could have told you that it was going to be terrible!"

Kasumi stood up from the table, hands on her hips. "Oh, anyone could, could they? I suppose you know all about cooking, do you?"

Akane stood up as well, and now they were face-to-face, both getting angrier by the minute. "I guess I must know more about it than you , if that's your idea of cooking!"

Ranma tried again, not wanting to get in between them but wanting to bring the mood back to a more peaceful place. "Akane, Kasumi, please! Let's all just have a nice breakfast and relax."

"Could you pass me another egg, Ranma?" It was Nabiki.

"What? Oh, of course." He took the bowl and passed it to her with a smile.

But sadly it seemed Kasumi and Akane weren't done. "I seem to remember a certain someone trying to make a cake for father's birthday that meant we had to call a plumber to fix the sink!"

"I was nine! What's your excuse?"

Kasumi scowled. "Maybe I don't need an excuse! Maybe I'm just tired of dealing with a jerk of a little sister!"

Everyone stopped. Kasumi paled. "Oh, no. No, I didn't mean that. I'm sorry, Akane, I don't know where that came fro-"

"Hey." Two eggs whizzed across the table: one towards Kasumi, who caught it, and the other towards Ranma, who cried out in surprise as it splattered against the apron he was wearing. Nabiki nodded and had another sip of her tea. "Thought so. You three do realize how strangely you're acting, right?"

Ranma looked at Akane. Akane looked at Kasumi. Kasumi looked at Ranma. All three looked at Nabiki: Akane and Kasumi sat down, both sheepish. "I mean," she continued, "I'm used to this floor show by now, but these aren't the parts you usually play. Did something happen?"

"I don't know," said Ranma. "I've been feeling strange all morning, but I just thought I was tired."

"Tired enough to cook Kasumi's miso soup perfectly?"

Ranma didn't have an answer for that. "But I don't understand how this happened! It feels like I woke up this way." He tried to think. "I know I didn't sleep well: I had bad dreams. Did you, Kasumi?"

Kasumi bit her lip. "Now that you mention it, I did. Akane?"

"Don't look at me," said Akane. " I slept fine."

"Of course you did," deadpanned Nabiki.

"What? I did! No bad dreams. Just a weird one about that drawing from yesterday."

Ranma stared. "Wait, the drawing?" He looked at Kasumi, who nodded and left the room.

"You three are really going to have to catch me up here," said Nabiki to her tea.

Kasumi returned a moment later and unrolled the scroll onto the free space on the table. The doodle stared up at them with a (ridiculously bad) expression of self-satisfied mischief.

Nabiki stared, sighed, and drained her teacup. "That is exactly ridiculous enough to be responsible for this." She pushed the cup towards Ranma (who promptly refilled it) and held her head in her hands. "All right, so we've got a cause. I think the next thing that needs to happen is for us to go out to the dojo and for you two," she said, pointing to her sisters, "to have a little match."

Akane blinked. "What are you talking about? What could that possibly prove?"

"I don't know how to tell you this, Akane, but you're definitely affected, and if I'm right the fight will show it."

---

Akane had taken some convincing - she was not at all happy about the idea of fighting her sister - but Kasumi had changed into Ranma's gi and insisted with what was clearly no longer uncharacteristic firmness that they do it. Ranma watched the two from the sidelines with an increasing sense of dismay. The fight only lasted a few minutes and Kasumi did lose, but she fought far more competently than anyone who knew her would have expected and made a decent showing for herself. As for Akane…

Watching her fight was a revelation. Her movements were beyond graceful, more than simply skilled. She was lightning-fast, unreadable, incredibly powerful and yet precise and controlled. Ranma could barely follow her but couldn't look away, either. To his embarrassment he realized that he was blushing and that his heart was racing: was it always like this for others watching him?

He looked down at his hands and tried to remember something, anything about fighting. He knew some things, of course: he knew what strikes and blocks and stances were . He remembered his father and Cologne and Happosai teaching him, and he remembered the many fights he'd been in. But when he tried to think of any details… nothing. He turned pale. Could this really be happening?

"Oh! That was invigorating," said Kasumi when it was over, wiping her brow with a towel. "I see why you enjoy it so much."

"But I don't understand." Ranma felt faint, like the world was ready to slip away from under his feet. It was a good thing he was sitting. "How could this have happened? Why can't I remember how to fight?"

"From where I stand, it seems pretty obvious," Nabiki said. "You don't know how to fight because you know what Kasumi knows about fighting. And cooking. Maybe other things?" She shrugged. "I don't know. I'm not an expert in Weird. Maybe you and Akane should go talk to Cologne about this. Assuming Shampoo doesn't try to carry you off while you're helpless, that is."

Nabiki paused and looked to her other sister, who had been facing away from everyone else and looking down ever since the fight had finished. "Akane?" she asked. "Hey, Akane, you okay?"

"…are you kidding?" Akane turned to them, and Ranma saw the biggest grin on her face that he'd ever seen. "I'm great! This is fantastic! I feel incredible."

She turned back to Kasumi. "C'mon, let's go again!"

Kasumi only frowned. "Akane, please. This is serious: obviously, we can't stay this way!"

Akane was undeterred. "Oh, come on! We all know how this'll work out. It's not the first time something like this has happened, and we've always been able to find a way to fix it. Why not have fun while we can?"

"I'm happy to see you've managed to keep an upbeat attitude about this," said Nabiki with some exasperation, "but we should also probably talk about the behavior, shouldn't we?"

Kasumi bit her lip, looking ashamed. "I'm really sorry about that. I don't know what happened: I was just going with what felt natural and I was so angry all of a sudden, it never occurred to me to stop."

Nabiki looked down at the still-sitting Ranma. "And I bet it felt totally natural to take over making breakfast, didn't it, Ranma?"

Ranma nodded, still stunned. "Yeah. Like, now I can see I was being weird- I mean," he corrected himself, "not acting like I usually do, but when it was going on I was just doing what needed to be done."

"And my dear elder sister would never let the household go hungry if she could help it." Nabiki sighed again. "But if you're thinking about it you know how you should act, right?"

The two nodded and Nabiki continued, "Hey Ranma, when did I have my tonsils removed?"

"What?" Ranma blinked, baffled at the sudden change of topic. "How should I know that?"

" You shouldn't, but Kasumi should, and that's helpful to know: whatever this is isn't affecting your memory. It sounds to me like if you keep your head," she said with a pointed look in Akane's direction, "you can at least act like yourselves. That's good. We still need to figure out how to fix this, of course, but at least we can keep it quiet."

Akane rolled her eyes. "Keep it quiet? Why? It's just some more stupid magic: it's not like we haven't had to put up with weirder before. Who cares if people know I've got Ranma's technique?"

Ranma blushed. "Akane, please. This is embarrassing enough as it is. I really don't want this getting out."

"You know I've never been one to worry too much about Ranma's dignity, but what if somebody decides to take advantage? I wasn't kidding about Shampoo: as it is, she could carry off Ranma and be on her way to China before we could do anything about it." A beat. "No offense, Ranma."

Ranma, who had gone pale at those words, only nodded.

"Sure, but even if he can't protect himself now I can, right?" Akane folded her arms. "Seriously, it's not a big deal; I can do this."

Kasumi groaned. "Akane, this is serious! I don't want people to know about this, either!" She stopped and took a deep breath, collecting herself. "Don't you think I'm embarrassed, too? Please, Akane. Let's just all agree to try to keep this a secret. We'll do our best to act normally and we won't tell anyone what's happened until we're ready, all right?"

Ranma nodded again. "Agreed. Let's try not to stand out."

"Fine, whatever. I just think it's stupid," Akane said, arms still folded.

Nabiki shrugged. "So long as you agree. As for me," she added, heading towards the door, "I'm going to head over to the photography lab. It's nice having a professor who doesn't mind me using it while classes are out," she said, holding up her camera with a smirk.

But Akane held out her hand. "Oh, what now?"

"Give it here. If we're not supposed to be letting people know you can't be taking advantage of Ranma like that, either."

Ranma blinked, startled. He'd forgotten about the photo she'd taken earlier, and he certainly wasn't expecting Akane to come to his rescue. Nabiki, for her part, just raised an eyebrow before nodding, pulling the film roll out of the camera and handing it over.

"Fine, take a girl's enjoyment out of this. I'll just have to be content in the knowledge that I'm the only adult in the room. You kids be good, okay? Don't do anything you wouldn't do."

With that she departed, leaving them alone together.

"You're welcome," Akane said, glowering at Ranma. "I swear, she's always planning something . I'm going to go out for a jog and I'm gonna be a while. I hope that's okay: I wouldn't want to stand out too much or anything," she added, storming out of the dojo.

Ranma watched her leave with a mix of emotions and only one way to express them that felt right. "Oh my."

---

After they left Kasumi had gone to take a shower and change, and so Ranma had relocated to the living room with a fresh pot of tea and the scroll to see if there were any hints in it as to how this had happened.

It wasn't fruitful: the text was a conversation between a kitsune and a tanuki, discussing the concepts of envy and obsession and arguing over which one was a bigger impediment to enlightenment, but the philosophy was only marginally better than the drawing. Both characters were readily persuaded by whatever arguments the other offered, meaning that who was defending what position kept changing, and the whole thing ended on a note that made it entirely unclear what conclusion if any readers were meant to make.

Making matters worse, Ranma still couldn't get comfortable. He'd sat on the couch but soon found himself pacing the room, restless and anxious. He tried sitting on the floor next to the coffee table, but that wasn't any better, and he was back to pacing a moment later. He tried not to think about the possibility of being stuck like this. There had to be a way to fix it; there just had to.

Finally Kasumi returned, wearing her own clothes. It really was a lovely outfit: a pale blue button-down blouse with puffed sleeves, a white collar and cuffs, worn with a calf-length violet skirt. Simple and elegant, pretty but not showy, perfect for wearing around the house or for errands in town. But her hair was in a higher, tighter ponytail than usual and tied off with a scrunchy rather than one of her hair ribbons, and Ranma could see that she hadn't redone her makeup after showering. If it were him, he would've taken the time to redo it: it might be extra work but it was important to look his-

No.

Oh, no.

The color rose again in Ranma's cheeks, a scarlet heat that threatened to make him faint dead onto the floor. He tried to deny it, but it was true: incomplete as she was, Kasumi was nevertheless well-coordinated and perfectly presentable, and next to her Ranma felt coarse and improper and… unladylike .

"Ranma?" Kasumi regarded him, head tilted slightly. "Is something wrong?"

"Wh-what? No! No, of course not. Or, well, yes? Something's wrong, but just the thing we already knew was wrong."

He was babbling and he knew it. He tried to breathe and to turn his attention away from Kasumi's charming (and so comfortable-looking) attire and back to the scroll.

"This is all so strange. I can't wait for this to be over."

This much, at least, was true.

"Did you find anything in the scroll?" Kasumi asked, smoothing out her skirt before having a seat on the couch. He stopped pacing and sat down next to her, stopping himself just short of mimicking her gesture when he remembered he was wearing pants.

"I don't think so. The drawing hasn't changed any and the story's just the two of them talking about enlightenment and stuff. You know," he said with a shrug far more casual than he felt, "a sutra."

She pulled the scroll over closer to her and he poured her a cup of tea, watching her while she read. It was no good: now that he knew what was wrong he couldn't ignore it. It was an itch in his brain and he had to scratch. Kasumi said something. His shirt was okay - the bow tie was cute, if a little immature, and he'd prefer something more billowy - but the pants were just wrong . "Ranma?" The fabric was heavy and rough, designed with durability and practicality in mind, and he hated the way the ties on the ends made them cling to his ankles. "Ranma." He wanted something loose, something flowing, something that would swirl around him like a playful breeze with each movement. "Ranma!"

Ranma blinked and shook his head to clear it: Kasumi was impatiently tapping the grinning doodle with her finger. "I'm sorry, I got distracted. What did you say?"

"I said , I think that's what caused this. Think about the story: they're arguing, and while they argue their viewpoints keep changing back and forth." She paused, but when Ranma didn't say anything she sighed and continued. "Remember? You and Akane got into an argument about what this drawing was…"

"…and then you tried to get us to stop by saying it could be a third thing. You don't think it could be that simple, do you?"

"Like Nabiki said, it's exactly ridiculous enough to be responsible. Whatever this spell is, it's triggered by argument. Maybe that's the way to fix it, too?" She cleared her throat and pointed at the doodle again. "This is a kitsune. It has to be a kitsune."

After a moment of silence she cleared her throat a second time. "Oh! Right, sorry. Can't you tell that it's a tanu-" Ranma trailed off: no sooner had he started talking than did the doodle shift and change again, turning up its snout and sticking out a squiggly little tongue at the two of them. "Doesn't look like it."

"It was worth trying. Maybe Dr. Tofu would know something? It's probably not a good idea to let Cologne know about this unless it's necessary, so…"

She stopped and pinched the bridge of her nose. "What is it, Ranma?"

"What?"

"You're staring at me. You've been staring at me. What's wrong?"

Ranma shook his head, looking away from her. "It's nothing! Everything's fine."

" Ranma. This is awkward enough without you beating around the bush. Spit it out, okay?"

Ranma wrung his fingers into the fabric of those awful, awful pants and tried to think of something to say. Anything but what he was thinking.

"It's only… it's your hair. You did it differently than you usually do."

"My hair?" Kasumi fingered her ponytail and wrinkled her nose. "I did, but just because it's less work this way."

"Okay, but what about your makeup?"

"Makeup? What does that have to do with anything? Let's focus on fixing this."

He tried smiling. It didn't help. "I know, but what if guests showed up?" The blush was coming back. It'd be better if he dropped the topic but now that he had started, he had to finish the thought. "Wouldn't it be nice to look your best for company? We did say we would try to act normally, didn't we?"

"Honestly, Ranma, we don't have time for this!"

Ranma cringed at the sudden outburst and Kasumi closed her eyes and silently counted to ten.

"Okay," she said. "Obviously, we're not going to get anywhere with this right now. In that case, can you look in the kitchen and write me a shopping list? I can go out and buy groceries while you clean up after my-" and now it was her turn to blush, "- experiment and do whatever other chores need doing."

Ranma opened his mouth to argue but no, that sounded good. Soothing, even. And he needed something soothing.

"Let's do that."

The list didn't take too long to make - the hardest part was deciding what to make for dinner and even that was only a matter of brief consideration - and in short order Kasumi was putting on her shoes, shopping bag under one arm. She opened the front door but paused on the threshold.

"You know, Ranma," she said, apropos of nothing, "I don't think I picked up my room today. Maybe if you have a moment you could take a look in there and do some tidying for me? Whatever you need to do to get everything the way it's supposed to be."

She left before he could reply.

---

Ranma stood alone in the entryway, mortified. She knew. She as much as said so and more, she'd given him permission. All he had to do was go upstairs and- he shook his head. "No way. Bad enough this spell took away my martial arts, I'm not gonna let it turn me into some girly-girl housewife wannabe. Nabiki was right: if I keep my head I know how I should act. I don't need the right clothes to clean." He turned on his heel and marched into the kitchen to better survey the damage now that the smoke had cleared.

It was extensive. He knew that the counters and stove top were a mess but the stains had run down the side of the counters as well, and when Ranma walked over to inspect the pan he stepped in a splatter of egg that had landed on the floor. With bare feet. "Oh, gross !" He grabbed a paper towel from the roll and wiped it off. "Okay," he said after taking a second to breathe, "I need house slippers."

One round trip to the entryway and back later he was back and had the pan in the sink again. Leaving this alone all morning had been a mistake: Kasumi's failed omelet had thickened and congealed into a scorched, rubbery mass. He had to get it off but he couldn't scrub too hard or he might ruin the pan. He tried using the spatula to scrape it off but it wasn't budging. When he pushed harder the spatula sunk into the mass… and got stuck again.

"DAMN IT!" He threw the pan into the sink with a clatter and gripped the counter top until his knuckles were white. He hated this. Everything was wrong. He didn't know what he should know, and what he did know was trivial and demeaning and… he stopped himself and slowly exhaled the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. What Kasumi did every day, without complaint and with every sign of satisfaction.

Right now, she couldn't do it and he could. Right now, he wasn't comfortable and he could be, if he'd stop fighting and just did what felt right. He tugged at his bow tie, trying to loosen the collar, and then finally he gave in. "Just this once, while nobody's here to see me."

"First thing's first, water." He filled a glass to pour over himself but stopped before tipping it out. It wasn't that he wanted to be a girl, he wanted to dress like Kasumi did. Her clothes would fit him better in his boy form than his girl form. And if nobody was here to see him did it really matter which form he was in? He just wanted to be comfortable.

Soon enough he was standing in front of her bedroom door, staring at the duck-shaped nameplate. After hesitating on the threshold for far longer than was necessary, throat dry and cheeks hot, Ranma stepped inside. He'd never been in Kasumi's room before and it had always felt off-limits to him in some unspoken way that he never felt the need to challenge. It was pretty much what he expected: a plush white carpet, a bed in one corner with white sheets and a purple comforter loosely folded at the foot, a vanity behind the door and a dresser next to that with family photos arranged on top. Beneath both sets of windows were a few well-kept houseplants and on one wall hung a beautifully-dyed bolt of silk. If she was telling the truth about not having picked up today it didn't really show, so he took a moment to properly fold the comforter before opening the closet.

Kasumi wasn't as much of a clothes horse as Nabiki or even Akane was, so her collection was limited both in size and variety. But she knew what she liked, and what she liked was modest but undeniably feminine: skirts, blouses and dresses; florals, pastels, the odd jewel tone; most of them cotton or simple blends, all utterly domestic.

And Ranma couldn't decide what to wear. Usually he would just grab something to wear for the day and put it on without thinking about it too hard, even when he was dressing as a girl. But instead he went over her wardrobe carefully, examining each item in turn and trying to figure out what he wanted to try on most. He was only going to do this once, after all.

What was strange was the way everything felt familiar to him. He knew which colors would go well together and which would suit his skin tone, his eyes and his hair. He admired the fabrics with a critical eye, noting which were good for hot days like today and which were better for when it was colder. And he found that he could quickly tell what was fine for a day when he didn't have anything planned from what was suitable when they were expecting guests from what he should wear if he was hoping to impress someone.

He wasn't hoping to impress anyone but he did want it to feel special, so the outfit he picked was in that last category. It came in two pieces, an apron dress and another dress to wear underneath it. The under-dress was pale yellow, with a rounded collar, long and billowy sleeves and a softly pleated calf-length skirt. The apron dress, meanwhile, was a little shorter, so that both skirts could be visible. It crossed in the back and was lavender, with a pattern of tiny white flowers and the most darling little ribbon in the front right beneath the bust.

Oh right. That. Ranma glanced over from the closet to Kasumi's dresser. He hesitated, but she did say whatever he needed to do to make things right, after all, and so he opened the drawers until he found her underwear, picked out a matching set that looked nice and a white slip, stripped and then put them on. The fit wasn't perfect - he and Kasumi were the same height but their builds were a little different even when you ignored the obvious - but a little improvisation with some socks gave a decent illusion of breasts and already he felt better enough that he finished dressing without any more delays and had a look at himself in the mirror.

It was a start, but knew he could do better. He had a seat at the vanity, undid his pigtail, brushed his hair out again to straighten it, took a lilac satin ribbon and used it to tie his hair off in a loose plait that draped over his shoulder. Next came makeup: it took a little while but finally he gave a contented sigh and admired his handiwork. The job was subtle, the foundation evening out his (admittedly already clear) complexion, and he was particularly pleased with how the pearl pink lip gloss he'd chosen went with his nail polish. Now he was done.

He looked at his reflection, startled by how thoroughly he'd transformed himself without needing so much as a drop of water. That was him he was looking at, sitting there appearing for all the world to be a demure and proper young lady. He was smiling, he noticed. He felt… good. Relaxed. Pretty. And at that moment he liked feeling pretty. He still knew who he was: he was Saotome Ranma, heir to the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts, man among men and fiancée to more women than was good for him. And he knew that he shouldn't be happy to be dolled up like this, that a spell had given him someone else's tastes.

But he also knew that after a morning where he'd been anxious, lost, hopelessly confused and unbearably uncomfortable he was, at last, perfectly at ease. For the first time since he woke up, everything was right and he was ready to take care of the household.

---

With that taken care of, Ranma went downstairs to return his attention to the kitchen. Things went much easier this time: unburdened with that nagging sense of wrongness he was better able to focus on the task without getting frustrated. In fact, it didn't take long for him to realize that he was enjoying himself: far from being tedious drudgery the act of cleaning was a straightforward, satisfying thing to do. The counters were dirty. He could tell he was finished when they were pristine and sparkling in the afternoon sun. It was simple, but that simplicity was the charm. Even the pan he'd been fighting with earlier was no match for patient and persistent effort.

Once he was done in the kitchen he put a load of laundry in the washer before moving on to a little dusting in Soun's room and then sweeping the floors, following a daily routine that was second nature to him despite never having done it before. So this was the secret to Kasumi's tranquil, easy-going nature. He was happy to experience it for now but he hoped they'd be able to fix this soon: now that he knew what it was like he felt bad for having taken it from her. He wasn't the only one being put in an awkward place by the spell.

Soon enough the ground floor was finished and Ranma was ready to go upstairs. His room made the most sense as a starting place: he knew that he and his father weren't the most cleanly of people. Not slobs , mind you - at least, he wasn't - but still the sight of his futon lying out in the middle of the day, blanket haphazardly strewn over it, made him sigh, so after some miscellaneous tidying he carefully folded up both and put them in the closet next to his father's futon.

…his father. How would he react when he found out what happened? Not that it was hard to guess: probably by hollering and lecturing him about unmanly behavior with a mouth full of the dinner he'd made. Honestly he wasn't worried about it. Ignoring his father when he was on another tirade was something both he and Kasumi had mastered by now, and if he got out of line he was sure Akane would take care of it.

Akane's room wasn't as well-kept as Kasumi's but was still fairly clean, so there wasn't much to do in there. But still he busied himself with what he could find, vacuuming the carpet dusting surfaces and straightening shelves. He was making her bed when he caught sight of his reflection again. His hand went to his cheek and he fussed and tugged at his outfit for the best fit. What would she think if she saw this? He knew it was silly but he hoped she'd like it. He put a lot of effort into getting everything just right, after all.

Would their parents try to use this as an excuse to get them together? He wouldn't put it past them. 'You need to see to his protection until we can get you all back to normal,' Soun would say. 'It's shameful to see my son behaving in such a fashion, but try to make the most of it: Kasumi gives good backrubs, after all!' his father would add, guffawing. If his mother was there she'd probably just say something about engaged couples being allowed to do whatever they wanted.

And he'd smile and listen while they discussed what to try next, refill their glasses when they finished the beer they were drinking, and excuse himself to keep an eye on the meal he had cooking. Maybe Akane would come in at some point, desperate to get away from them. She'd sigh, and because he could tell she was tired he'd say he couldn't give her a proper back massage with food on the stove but he could at least rub her shoulders to do something about all that tension. And when he was done she'd take his hand and she'd smile at him, that smile that made him so glad to be hers. Then she'd lean in to kiss him and say…

He shook his head, snapping out of his reverie. What was he thinking? "She'd tell me not to be a pervert, that's what she'd say." And if they did get married it wouldn't be like that. He sighed. He was finished in here and he needed to be moving on.

Nabiki was the least inclined to help out around the house of the three sisters, so it was hardly surprising that her room was the one that needed the most picking up. There were photographs of him out on her desk, pictures he recognized as having been taken over the last few weeks, no doubt intended for sale to Kunou or whoever else was interested. He thought of the picture she'd taken of him this morning and Akane taking the film before she could develop it.

What would happen if this got out? Everyone would want to come see Saotome Ranma, homemaker among homemakers. Even after they cured this Ryouga would never let him hear the end of it. Neither would Mousse. Or… a lot of people, really. And that's without mentioning, as Nabiki already had done, all the people who'd show up to whisk him away for marriage whether he wanted to or not. Clearly this needed to be fixed as soon as possible, no matter how much he was enjoying himself right now.

But he could worry about that later. He glanced at the clock: the laundry would be ready to go out on the line about now, and then he could fix a quick lunch for when everyone was home. He should probably change back into his own clothes, just in case Akane or Nabiki came back, but the idea was… "After I put up the laundry," he said. "That should be fine."

A basket full of wet laundry turned out to be heavier than he remembered it being - another effect of the scroll, maybe? - and so carrying it outside took a little longer than he expected, but nonetheless his earlier worries quickly melted away and he found himself humming a cheerful little melody to himself as he hung clothes out to dry. He was most of the way done when he heard the front door open. "I'm home!" Kasumi called out.

"I'm outside!" Ranma called in reply, carefully hanging up one of Akane's blouses.

"Let me put these away and I'll come help you!"

"Thank you! I'm almost done but that'd be nice!" He went back to humming and a few minutes later he heard her approaching and turned to greet her. "Were you able to find every- oh my goodness ! Kasumi, what happened? Is everything all right?"

She was drenched in sweat, as was her blouse. Her hair was windswept, not exactly wild but very much out of place. Her cheeks were flushed and she looked to be catching her breath. And she was smiling, no, grinning, positively beaming with delight. "I ran here. At first I was going to just jog back, but once I started it was so nice that I wanted to see how fast I could go. I had no idea how much fun that could be, Ranma!"

"Kasumi, we were supposed to be keeping this a secret!"

"I know what we said, but I couldn't help myself. I'd never tried that before. I can't believe I'd never tried that before! And once I started I just had to keep going. Speaking of," she added, eyes twinkling, "you look nice. Is everything where it should be?"

Ranma blushed and absently toyed with the outer skirt. "Thank you. It's… it's where it goes for now, at least." He took a moment to compose himself and let that sense of scandalized dismay dissipate: he really wasn't in a position to judge. "This is going to take more than just trying not to, I guess. Now let's both go get changed before-"

But it was too late. The rear gate opened and in walked Akane, with Shampoo and Ukyou in tow. "C'mon, hurry up! I don't want them to see either of you here. And try to keep your voice down," she said, looking back to them. "We'll just go into the dojo so I can show you and then you two can leave before we run into…"

Finally she took in Ukyou and Shampoo's disbelieving expressions, turned and followed their gaze. She stared at Ranma, eyes wide, blushing, dumbfounded. "…Ranma?"