Iris Again

The clothes were primarily hand-me-downs, mostly from Kasumi, but a few items from Akane and even a fair amount from Nabiki (although what her mother and Kasumi had done to pressure Nabiki into giving something up without compensation, Ranma had no desire to find out). They were all conscious of the decision she'd made in the hospital, and had done their best to choose clothes they thought she'd approve of. But yet, Ranma still wondered if, after all this time, any of them had so much as a clue as to what sort of a person she'd become. Many of the items in the closet -- frilly blouses, the odd skirt or dress, and just about everything that was pink -- she had no intention of ever wearing, and only tolerated their presence in her closet because she hadn't yet thought of a tactful way of returning them. It was as if, upon learning that she had decided to accept The Change, they had all assumed she was also going to become more like them, which was most definitely not the case. That, she thought, might be the hardest thing for them to accept.

She thought back to the previous day, when Mom and Kasumi had taken her shopping. Granted, shopping trips had happened a few times before her... suicide attempt (Call it what it was, Ranma. Face it, and don't ever try to pretend it was anything but.), but the results then had always been mixed. Boys, or at best androgynous, clothing were the usual end result, something which always disappointed Mom. But this time... this time it had been at her request, and she greatly underestimated the enthusiasm with which the two women would embrace the idea. The gist, as far as Ranma was concerned, had been to gain a much-needed education in how to navigate the world of women's apparel -- learning about measurements, sizes, and the whole body of everyday details she had once purposefully ignored but now needed to know. But as far as the older women were concerned (especially her mother), it was as if the prodigal daughter had returned, or at least come to her senses. There hardly seemed a dress or a skirt Mom did not point out or even hand over for her to try on, and the disappointment in Mom's eyes was painfully apparent, as only slacks and the plainest of shirts and blouses made it to the fitting rooms. Kasumi, bless her soul, at last was able to console Mom by pointing out that, at least she'd chosen clothes appropriate for her current gender.

She didn't avoid all of it, though. After a day's worth of disappointment, Ranma finally conceded to grant her mother one indulgence: she'd let Mom drag her off to the cosmetics counter. The first thing she did when they got home was to scrub her face until it was almost raw.

(Don't they get it?) she wondered, for the umpteenth time. (I said I had come to accept this. I didn't say I was going to go completely femme on them. I'm not going to change myself, or my interests, or the way I think, just because everyone thinks a girl has to act differently from a boy. If the last few months have taught me anything, it's that I can accept it all on my terms, not theirs. The mind hasn't changed, only the body; I am still Saotome Ranma, no matter what has happened. If they can't accept that, well, that's their problem, not mine!"

And yet...

There was another problem lurking just below the surface. She could feel it, but couldn't quite put her finger on it. Her acceptance, the self-use of the feminine pronoun, even the clothes, were all pointing to a growing awareness of her female self. So... if she had become that much acclimated, maybe the deeper question remained of just how much of her newly formed feminine personae she was willing to let become, well, truly female.

To her mind, the future was marked by two extremes. She could, on one hand, be female but ignore all the stereotypes and just go on as if she'd never been forced to endure a gender change. She'd probably end up being deemed "butch", and might even end up a lesbian. Under the circumstances, her family and friends would hardly blame her, (although she suspected some would be disappointed), and she had to admit that the idea held a certain amount of attraction to her. But yet, she also found that there was a fair amount of distaste as well, as if a residue from her great gender identity crises. If she took this position, wouldn't she in fact be taking the same stance she had held previously, almost terminally? Would she one day find herself returning to the same kind of nether hell from which she had only recently surfaced? Or would she just become old, living her life as close to its uncursed form as she could manage, but finally wishing for a taste of some of the roads that had not been taken?

But on the other hand -- if she couldn't be a man (at least not the kind her parents though of), could she... would she... SHOULD she... let herself become... a woman?

Was she, now that she had resigned herself to a female future, on the way to adopting the feelings and desires of one as well? Could she, for instance, allow herself to someday find men attractive? Could she even -- and the thought still made a curious tightening in her stomach -- find one with whom she could fall in love, marry and raise a family with? Could SHE... Saotome Ranma... allow herself to become so female as to become a bride, a wife, even... a mother?

Her hand reached out for one of the articles of clothing Nabiki had given her -- a black party dress that was anything but demure. She picked it up by the hanger and regarded it. ( Is the day coming when I might wear this, and not think anything of it?) She looked around the room, and found the make-up kit Mom had bought the day before, exiled to an unused corner. (Am I going to soon be using that stuff, just because I'll decide I like the way it makes me look?) She looked once more at the dress. (If I resist this, do I put myself back where I started? Do I even want to resist it?)

She thrust the dress angrily back into the closet. (No! This is stupid. I can choose my own path. I can choose what I want to accept, when I want to accept it -- and I am most certainly NOT going to second-guess myself!) The dress fell to the floor, where she purposefully ignored it. (Dammit, it's not as if I am the only female in the entire world. Millions have come before me, and they've lead just as fulfilling a life as I intend to lead, without all of this crap to contend with. There is nothing that says I have to keep to their rules.) Her hands found two articles of clothing, a blouse that used to be Nabiki's and a pair of new slacks she'd bought the day before. Then, furtively, she glanced down at the dress on the floor. (OK,) she conceded, (If it happens, it happens. There's no use getting worked-up about the future, because it'll be here no matter what I do.) She looked at the clothes in her hands, and felt a smirk form on her mouth. (Besides... none of this can possibly be worse than death -- and I've already faced that down.)

There was a knock on the door, followed by Kasumi's cheerful voice. "Ranma... are you ready yet? We're running late!"

"I'll be there in a minute. I'm just getting dressed."

"Do, um, you need any help?"

(What, do you think a girl can't dress herself?) "No, I'll be fine. I'll be downstairs in a few."

Ranma put on the blouse, momentarily forgetting that the buttons were on the opposite side from which she -- as a he -- had been used to. The slacks came next, and as she zipped them up she found herself once more conscious of the differences female clothing on a female body felt. Unlike the male slacks she'd been used to wearing, which were designed for hips and waist of about the same size, female slacks took into account the fact that her waist was trimmer than her hips, and so did not always feel as if they were about to slip off. Another bit of comfort she did not have to deny herself anymore. As had been her wont of late, she shook her head. "If it happens, it happens." she muttered to herself.

She quickly put on a pair of sox (white, with some pinkish edging), and gathered up the few items (money, identification) she wanted to take with her. Once gathered, she looked at them, contemplated putting them into the pockets of her slacks, then stopped to reconsider. (Oh, to hell with it.) She hurriedly picked up a small purse that had once been Akane's, threw the items into it, then thrust her arm through the purse-strap and onto her shoulder. (I never liked carrying things in my pockets anyway.)

Kasumi greeted her as she came down the stairs. No one else was around, thank goodness, because if Kasumi's subdued reaction to the clothing were any indication, she'd have probably gone back upstairs and changed immediately. (At least she's trying to pretend there's nothing unusual here.) "Ready?" the older woman asked.

"Yes, I'm ready." Ranma said, resolutely.

The drive to the hospital was thankfully quiet. Kasumi tried some small talk, but after a few moments mercifully left Ranma to her thoughts. She was conscious that there were some things about the new her that they didn't quite understand. But then again, there were some things she was still finding out herself, so she supposed the confusion was understandable.

Tatewaki was one of those things. In what was probably the most surprising development of the year, the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High School had suddenly emerged as possibly the closest friend she had. They'd found things in the other that they needed for themselves, and as a result had managed to bring each other back from the brink of oblivion. Of all the people in the world, she'd found he was the only one with whom she could discuss some things; not even Akane could claim the same, and they'd grown incredibly close. No, Tatewaki and her had managed to face down the same demons; it was important now that each continued to do so.

Which was why she'd gone to such great lengths to secure him a teaching job at the dojo. Which was also why she was now on her way to greet him on his release.

Most of the others, thank goodness, were prepared to accept at face value her word that all of this was important. Akane undeniably did, although Ranma knew that deep down her former fiancee certainly didn't, not really. (I'm sorry, Akane, but there are some things I cannot explain, not even to you.) After all, she mused, it was hard enough explaining some of these things to herself...

Then, in a moment of sudden clarity, she realized what the problem was that had pricked at her unconsciously all morning. She stared ahead, silently, stunned.

(No... no, I can't have come that far... can I?)

She knew how Tatewaki thought of her, even now. She had, in a way, almost encouraged it this time, because by doing so it had brought them together when they needed each other the most. But what she hadn't quite thought out, what she hadn't quite thought through, was the impact such closeness might be having on her. Still be having on her.

She began to shake. With an effort, she willed herself to stop, and covered her change in mood by turning to stare out the passenger window. They were getting close to the hospital now; she could even see the roof of the main building in the distance. She continued to stare out the window, and realized that she could see a reflection of herself in the glass. She concentrated on her image, on what she saw.

Saotome Ranma, young female. Yes, she knew that.

She thought about who was ahead. Kunou Tatewaki, young male.

She thought about the implications of such a combination. Once more, she began to shake. (Dear God... am I ready for this?)

She thought back to the day's trains of thought. Female body, female clothes, female personae... female emotions? Female feelings? Female... desires?

Was she ready for this?

(No.) a voice told her, inside.

But then she felt another voice, just as loud, just as insistent. A voice she had sometimes suppressed. (Yes. Yes, you are.)

They were pulling into the parking lot of the hospital. She realized that time was running out. She also realized that the tightening in her stomach had returned.

(If I continue this, where will it end? Do I want Tatewaki as a friend, or... as something more? Can I even let myself go far enough for it to be possible?)

(Can I afford not to?)

A part of her could see it, she realized. A part of her could easily imagine a scenario that involved Kunou Tatewaki as the lover of Saotome Ranma... more dimly, fantastically, could even glimpse a distant figure named Kunou Ranma... and could do so without qualms, or shakes, or stomach turns. And what frightened her the most, what made the whole prospect so mind-numbing, was that this part of her didn't find the prospect frightening at all.

Saotome Ranma, man in woman's body, or Saotome Ranma, woman?

She'd crossed the line. She was female now -- so she told herself, constantly. But was it only now that she was beginning to see what that truly meant?

And all at once, the answer came to her.

"If it happens, it happens." she said to herself.

Kasumi glanced to her. "Pardon?" she asked. The car pulled to a stop in a parking spot.

"Sorry. Nothing." She met Kasumi's questioning gaze. "Just a random thought."

As she stepped out of the car, she found the shakes had stopped and her stomach was no longer doing somersaults. What was more, a curious calm had descended.

(If it happens, it happens. If one day I decide that I like Tatewaki enough to want him, well, then so be it. If not... the point has always been that it is my life, not anyone else's. I can make decisions and mistakes just like anyone else. What I can't be is afraid... of the change, of the future, of anything. I have the rest of my life to be happy with, and what matters where I find that happiness, so long as I do?)

As the two women walked into the visitor's area, an older gentleman held the door open for them. He tipped his hat. A younger man, an orderly that Ranma remembered, stood just inside the doorway. He obviously did not recognize her as a former patient (Must be the shorter hair., she thought), for he gave her a quick but appreciative once-over. Ranma found she didn't mind that quite as much she once would have.

She looked around the room, and breathed a sigh. Some, most, of the people around her she recognized from her institution. If she needed any motivation to stay her course, she had but to look around. (Yes, there really are fates worse than death.)

There was a mirror in the lounge area, and as they took seats she found herself examining her reflection. (So there are still issues I haven't quite resolved. Fine. Guess what? None of them can change the central fact that I AM going to get on with my life. Everything else is just... details.)

Kasumi excused herself to find a washroom, leaving Ranma to her thoughts. After a long stare she finally turned her attention from the mirror and to the doorway, from which she knew he'd be stepping from. The wait was longer than they'd told her it would be; paperwork, offerings upon the altar of medical bureaucracy, were evidently holding things up. The additional moments gave her more time to prepare for the meeting to come -- and all that would come after.

(I have to be honest with him, at least until I've sorted it all out. We're going to be working together, after all, now and for the foreseeable future. I suppose that also means I have to watch myself, not let him expect anything more than what I've already promised... correction, will promise -- I forgot, he doesn't know yet about that college scheme Nabiki's cooked up.) She took a deep breath and could hear movement in the next room over. (Right now, I need a friend I can lean on, and for better or worse Tatewaki is now it. As for what that might lead to... well, the future will see to that.)

From the other side of a door, she heard a familiar voice. Immediately, she jumped to her feet, and found herself stealing a quick glance at herself in the mirror, running her hands through her hair one last time. She abruptly stopped and looked at her reflection. Then she laughed quietly to herself. (Stop it. There are more important things to worry about.)

The door opened, and Kunou stepped out. He didn't notice her at first, and in that split moment she had time to look at him from a new vantage point.

(You know, you can almost see why the girls at Furinkan thought he was cute.)

(Almost.)

She smiled, gave him a shout to attract his attention...

...and stepped into the future.