Painted Smile


by Richard Lawson



Ranma stepped out of the house and walked along the covered walkway. It was quite cold outside, and a brisk breeze caused goosepimples to appear

wherever the gi didn't cover flesh. Ranma quickly entered the dojo which,

although it wasn't any warmer, was at least protected from the wind.


And then into the kata, the smooth flowing from one form into another. A

particularly difficult and energetic one today; Ranma felt the need to be

distracted. And yet, no peace of mind was to be found in the kata. When it

was done, Ranma felt no better than before.


Growling, and then a running jump into a kick, attacking an imaginary foe.

If only Pop was here. But he was spending the night in the Saotome home,

helping Nodoka prepare for today's events. Preparing for what was going to

happen to Ranma today.


*Today*. It was happening *today*.


The familiar nausea struck. Ranma grimaced and fell to the ground. Oh God, not today, not now, I need more time. Not *now*. I'm not ready to get

married.


The door slid opened. Ranma looked up to see Akane enter. Akane smiled and walked over to sit on the ground next to Ranma. "How are you feeling?"


Ranma swallowed. "Better."


"You're still getting nauseous?"


"Yes."


"It'll pass."


"So I've been told." Ranma sat up. "Wanna work out?"


Akane looked dubious. "Will it make you feel better?"


"Probably not. Dammit, did it have to be now?"


"It had to be sometime. We all agreed the sooner the better."


"Yes." Ranma sighed. "Yes, we did, didn't we?"


Akane shifted a little uncomfortably. "Would delaying it help?"


Ranma frowned. "I dunno. What do you think?"


"I think... I think that no matter *when* the wedding is, you'll go through

this again. Delaying it will only prolong the agony."


"Agony." Ranma pounded the floor once. "That's a good word. Agony.

Dammit, why the hell did I agree to this?"


Akane chuckled, reached over, and kissed Ranma lightly on the forehead.

"You know why, silly."


Ranma turned to study Akane. "I forgot... this is probably hard on you,

too."


Akane shrugged eloquently. "Not as hard as you might think. I've already

gone through my personal hell."


Ranma frowned at the expression on Akane's face. Despite her assurances,

there was definitely something inside Akane that was struggling with the

day's events, too. Ranma sighed, the weight of so many pains pressing.

This day was getting off to a horrible start and going downhill.


Akane started slightly at the sound of the sigh. She put a smile on her

face. "Come on. It's not good for the bride to be sitting here

melancholy." Akane stood and offered her hand. "Let's go inside and get

some breakfast."


Ranma grabbed her hand and stood. They turned towards the dojo door and

began to walk slowly back into the house.


Ranma sighed again. "Akane?"


"Yes, Ranma?"


"Could you do me a favor?"


"Anything. Name it."


"Could you please not refer to me as the bride?"


Akane reached over to put her arm around Ranma's shoulders. "Of course. I

understand."


Ranma closed her eyes, for a moment basking in the warmth of Akane's body and friendship.


---


Breakfast was cold. Breakfast was *always* cold. Ranma lifted up her

teacup to stare into the less-than-tepid water inside. She was really

coming to hate cold tea.


"Ranma-chan." Ranma flinched slightly; that's what Kasumi had called her

for the past month or so. Ever since she'd found out. She'd actually been

the first, before even Ranma knew. "You really should eat some more."


Ranma glared at Kasumi. The last damn thing she needed was

Kasumi-the-mother.


Kasumi looked back at her serenely, smiling in reassurance. Ranma kept her

gaze even for another few seconds to let Kasumi know she was not at all

intimidated, then put her teacup firmly on the table. "I'm done."


"Great, Ranma," Nabiki said dryly. "Take it out on all of us. That's what

we're here for. Your personal little punching bags. Please, feel free to

treat us as rudely as possible. We certainly deserve it for the horrible

way we-"


"Stow it." Ranma rose to her feet. "I'm going to take a bath."


Nabiki languidly stood up as well. "I'll help."


"I don't *need*-"


"Stow it."


Ranma locked her gaze with Nabiki's. Nabiki's gaze was by no means serene, but it was steady and even and contained no hint of judgment other than a slightly raised eyebrow.


Ranma growled and spun on her heel. She stalked down the hallway to the

bathroom, Nabiki following somewhat more slowly behind her.


She slid the door open firmly and walked over to the hamper. She

unceremoniously stripped off her clothing as the sound of water filling the

tub echoed off the walls. Frowning, she turned. "What the hell good is

that going to do?"


Nabiki shrugged. "When's the last time you soaked in the tub?"


"We shut off the hot water, you know."


"Despite what your statement implies, I'm not stupid or unobservant."


"You're a real jerk, you know that, Nabiki?"


"And you're not exactly bringing tears of joy to my eyes, Ranma. Wash up."


Ranma growled and sat on the stool. She suddenly felt quite self-conscious.

Modesty was something she'd never been big on, but for some reason today was different. This situation was different. Why, she couldn't guess.


She washed her body efficiently, determined to get this over with as soon as

possible. She began to lather up her hair when the tub's faucet was shut

off with a screech. Nabiki came up behind her and put her hands in Ranma's

hair. "Let me."


Ranma began to protest, then let it go. She lowered her hands and Nabiki

began briskly scrubbing her scalp. Ranma almost begrudgingly enjoyed the

sensation.


"You know, you've actually got attractive hair." Nabiki's voice was

conversational, if a little wary. "Of course, anything was better than that

stupid pigtail."


Ranma grunted. "Are you capable of giving a compliment without adding an insult?"


"Are you capable of accepting one without lashing out at the giver?"


She grit her teeth. "You have no idea what kinda hell I went through over

my hair."


"You mean that Dragon Whisker thing?"


"No. I mean living in a women's dormitory with a bunch of people who made fun of the way I acted. The way I dressed. The way I styled my hair. The way I *was*. I changed my hair in the stupid hope that they'd stop

teasing me over it. All it did was give them more power - if they could get me to change *this*, what else could they make me do?"


Nabiki's hands had slowed during the narrative. "I had no idea."


"Of course not. Why should you? You were off at your own college having a normal social life."


"Not so normal as you might think," Nabiki said quietly. Her hands began to move more quickly, this time rubbing the shampoo vigorously into the strands of Ranma's hair. "So how'd you win them over? You seemed pretty popular at graduation."


"I didn't win them over at all. *He* did."


"He? He who?"


"*Him*. When they saw that I was... *with* him, they suddenly decided I

was... that I was... *normal*. Whatever the hell that means."


Nabiki's hands moved away. Cold water began to pour down Ranma's body as Nabiki rinsed her hair. Ranma began to stand up but a hand on her shoulder stilled her. Something cold and thick was poured on her scalp. Ranma grimaced. "One shampoo is enough."


"I quite agree. This is conditioner."


"Conditioner?! What the hell-"


"Because I said so. Because I'm your older sister."


"You are *not*-"


"Close enough." Nabiki worked the conditioner into Ranma's hair. "Stop

giving me grief. Just this once you're going to do what I say without

complaint."


"What gives you-"


"Without complaint, I said." Nabiki removed her hands. "Now, sit still for

a couple of minutes."


Ranma peered at Nabiki over her shoulder. "What are you doing to me?"


Nabiki looked frustrated. "Preparing you for your wedding, idiot."


Ranma studied her for a minute, then heaved a huge sigh and faced forward.

"You... you're being nice, Nabiki."


"A pleasant thing to say. I may die of shock."


"I mean it." Ranma shifted slightly in her seat. "I... somehow you seemed

like the last person in the world to be helpful."


"Ah, insults, *that's* the Ranma we all know and love."


"Shut up, Nabiki. I'm doing my best to be grateful. You... you've been

the... the only one who... who never treated me differently. You don't know

what... what that meant to me."


"I was just..." Nabiki trailed off, and the teasing faded from her voice.

"You're welcome."


An uncomfortable silence was finally broken by Nabiki turning on the

hand-held shower and once again pouring cold water on Ranma's hair. After a minute of thorough rinsing, Nabiki rubbed a few strands between her fingers and grunted in satisfaction. She produced a towel and patted some of the water away before wrapping Ranma's hair in it.


Ranma blew out a peeved breath. "Now what?"


"Now you get into the tub."


"You want me to take a cold bath?"


"Thought you'd be used to them."


"Cold showers, yes, after a fashion. But... well, have you ever tried it?"


Nabiki crossed her arms and tapped her foot. After a second, she shook her

head. "All right, if that's what it takes." She began to shrug out of her

tee-shirt.


Ranma reached over and grabbed Nabiki's forearm. "Stop that." She turned

away and lowered herself gingerly into the bath. It was awful, chilling her

in a second. And there was something... slimy... in the water. "What'd you

put in there?"


"Bathing oil. Scented and all that." Nabiki knelt so that she was directly

behind Ranma's head. "Try and relax."


"You ever relax in cold water?"


"Give it a rest." Nabiki began gently kneading Ranma's shoulders. Ranma

closed her eyes and bit her lip. She let her muscles loosen and she lay

limply in the tub, but she wasn't exactly relaxed.


The moment went on and on. Nabiki moved her massage along each of Ranma's shoulders and down her arms, working the oil into her skin. Ranma

cooperated listlessly, simply moving her arms into whatever position Nabiki

required.


Nabiki continued, having Ranma sit up as she worked on her back. "You know, Ranma, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."


"You told me to, didn't you?"


"Not this. The wedding."


Ranma laughed, a cold laugh devoid of humor. "Yes I do."


Nabiki finished the back and lowered Ranma into the water. She began to

work on the chest and abdomen, giving Ranma some awkward, uncomfortable moments. She then moved down the tub a little ways, lifting one of Ranma's legs out of the water and working on it as well. From this vantage point she could look into Ranma's eyes. "Why do you say that?"


Ranma shrugged. "Because it's true?"


"It's not true." Nabiki looked concerned and puzzled. "You've got a choice

here."


Ranma laughed again. "I don't have a choice. I *never* had a choice."


Nabiki pushed Ranma's leg back into the water with more force than was

strictly necessary. She lifted the other leg, at the same time growling.

"Yes you *do*, Ranma. Say the word and I send everyone packing."


Ranma shook her head with a smile. "You don't get it, Nabiki. All my life,

I've been doing things out of necessity, not because I wanted to. Dad

trained me from birth to be a martial artist - never mind whether or not it

was something I'd've liked to have chosen for myself. He'd take me from

place to place, on one training mission or another, and damn what I thought

of it. Hell, it never occurred to me to object. Until Jusenkyo. By then,

of course, it was too late. I'd been cursed, something else I didn't

choose.


"Then all of a sudden he tells me I've got a fiancee. A *fiancee*. I was

engaged to be *married* and he never told me. He did that to me twice. So

we had to live here and I *had* to be engaged to Akane and Ukyo. And then Shampoo and Kodachi came along, and never mind that I didn't want them to be my girlfriend. What I wanted was never an issue with either of 'em."


Nabiki lowered Ranma's leg gently into the water, her face quiet. "And then

Herb."


Ranma nodded. "Now you're getting it. And then Herb. He decided I was

going to be a woman forever - never mind what it would destroy my life; if

*he* was going to be stuck, *I* was going to stuck, too. He was petty and

spiteful, just like everyone else.


"Then Akane and I began to drift apart. And it wasn't what I wanted. I...

I wanted us to be together but... but I couldn't stop us from breaking up.

The only one of my fiancees I really cared for. And because of that, I had

to leave the only home I'd ever known because it was too damned painful on

everyone for me to stay there."


Nabiki lowered a corner of her mouth. "You're not being entirely fair

there, Ranma."


"Fair?" Ranma snorted derisively. "Whoever said anything about fair?

Life's not fair; why should I be?"


Nabiki clenched her jaw. "Kentaro. You chose him."


"Oh, Nabiki." She shook her head again. "You were doing so well. What

kind of choice do you think I had? He was the only person who even showed me the least amount of kindness. I was so lonely I snapped to it like a starving man to bread. Of course, he didn't want *me*. He wanted *this*." She indicated her nude body laying in the water. "If I'd been a guy, he'd never have given me a second look."


Nabiki was looking more and more angry. "Ranma..."


The smile on her lips began to fade. "And then, after he'd gotten me

hooked, after I couldn't go on without his friendship, he suddenly decides I

have to be his girlfriend or nothing at all. Never mind what I want. Never

mind that he was my last link to sanity, and that *he* was being unfair as

hell by using that to force my hand. Either I let him... kiss me... *touch*

me... or... nothing. Or I die. And he knew that."


"Ranma!" Nabiki took a couple of deep, angry breaths. "You know perfectly well it was nothing at all like that."


Rage suddenly flooded Ranma. She could feel her face turn red. "AND DO YOU KNOW WHY I'M GETTING MARRIED?!" She surged out of the water, managing to get Nabiki very wet. Ranma poked herself in the navel. "It's because of *this*! I didn't choose it! I didn't want it to happen! But it did so I have to get married so DON'T YOU TELL ME I HAVE A CHOICE!"


Nabiki's mouth was open. She stared at Ranma in angry shock. Finally, she

slowly rose to her feet, actually trembling in anger. "Go to hell, Ranma.

If you really believe that, then you can go to hell." She whirled and

stalked towards the door. She paused halfway there, picked up a large white

towel, spun, threw it at Ranma's face, then turned again and left.


Ranma let the towel hit her face and held it there, letting her own hot

breath suffocate her. Damn it all, it didn't have to be like this.


Did it?


With a sigh she stepped out of the tub and unfolded the towel. It turned

out to be by far the largest towel she'd ever used; it could substitute for

a bedspread. She pressed the towel against her skin and felt the water

almost sucked away by the soft luxuriousness of the cloth. Ranma slowly

dried herself, letting the towel warm her skin and the silence of the moment

calm her mind.


"Ranma-chan." Kasumi's voice drifted from the bathroom door. "Your parents are here."


Damn. She should have known the moment would be all too fleeting. She

wrapped herself in the towel and stepped out into the hallway, to be greeted

by the beaming image of her mother.


"Ranma!" Nodoka hugged her closely. "Oh, I'm so excited." Indeed, she was quivering slightly as she held Ranma. "Come, come, we don't have much time!" She ushered Ranma down the hall.


Ranma grit her teeth, determined not to make a sound, afraid of what might

come out. Instead, she allowed herself to be almost pushed up the stairs to

the master bedroom. Her father was just carefully laying a white dress on

the bed. He looked up and his eyes met Ranma's. There was something

inscrutable in them before he ducked his head. He walked out of the

bedroom, squeezing Ranma's arm in passing.


Nodoka immediately began straightening the dress where it lay. "Okay, dear, let's begin."


Ranma wondered exactly what was going to 'begin'. She sighed and wandered over to the bureau. It was filled with her clothes, placed there last night in preparation for the time when this room would be hers. Today, after...


Ranma squelched that train of thought. She reached into the drawer and

quickly put on some undergarments while the towel was still draped over her.


"Over here." Ranma turned to see that Nodoka had unpacked a great deal of

cosmetics onto the bedside table and had pulled it over to the full-length

mirror on the wall. "Really, dear, you should get a vanity."


"A vanity?!" Ranma dropped the towel to the floor. "What do I need one of

them for?"


Nodoka, for her part, looked just as shocked. "What are you wearing?!"


Ranma glanced down. "I'll take off the tee-shirt when we put on the dress,

Mom."


"No." Nodoka pointed. "*Those*. My daughter is *not* going to get married wearing boxer shorts."


"Mom-" Ranma snapped her mouth shut and took a breath. "They're more

comfortable."


"They are not appropriate for the dress."


"They're not gonna show through."


"Dear-" Nodoka took her own deep breath. "Just- please, sit over here."

She indicated a chair she'd also placed in front of the mirror.


"Mom, I ain't gonna wear makeup."


"Please do try to talk correctly today, Ranma."


"Mom!"


"Ranma. I am allowing you your idiosyncrasy. Please allow me mine."


Ranma stood her ground for a moment, then slumped her shoulders. She slowly walked towards the chair and sat on it, feeling as if she was about to be electrocuted.


"Thank you." Nodoka unwrapped the towel that still covered Ranma's scalp.

She took a brush off the table and began to vigorously brush the still-damp

hair. "You smell nice, dear."


"Nabiki's doing. She rubbed some sorta- some bath oil on me."


"I see." Nodoka paused in the brushing long enough to finger Ranma's

shoulder. "It feels quite soft. She did an excellent job."


Ranma shrugged her shoulders, dislodging her mother's hand. "I guess."


Nodoka resumed the brushing. "I don't think we should be too elaborate with your hair. Your natural style fits you very well. I would like to curl it

slightly in the back so that the ends don't show. Perhaps a bit of mousse

so that it doesn't become too unruly."


"Whatever, Mom."


Nodoka finished the brushing, then picked up a strange instrument Ranma had never seen before. It was plugged in, and as it was carried past her cheek she could feel heat coming from it. Something was clamped on Ranma's hair, and she was not at all reassured by the smell. "Mom!"


"Relax, dear." Nodoka's voice was smooth and reassuring. "It's normal."


Ranma looked at her mother's face in the mirror. She was serene and

actually seemed to be enjoying herself. Ranma swallowed in an attempt to

keep herself from speaking.


The curling iron was used in several different places. Nodoka then switched

it off and set it on the table. She picked up a can and sprayed something

that looked like whipped cream into her hand. She lightly rubbed her hands

with it before running her fingers through Ranma's hair, spreading the

mousse throughout.


Ranma couldn't help smile. "Shampoo and conditioner and mousse? Do you do this every day, Mom?"


"Every day."


"Do you wear cologne, too?"


"Perfume, yes, on occasion. When I am working."


"Hmm." Ranma decided to keep the joke to herself.


Nodoka took a comb and began to carefully style Ranma's hair. Ranma watched as her hair was almost sculpted into place. She couldn't help admiring the end result. Never in her whole life had her hair looked as good as it did right now. So clean, neat, and... orderly.


Nodoka's smile grew wider for a moment. Then she reached over and opened a jar. She scooped out a bit of cream and reached towards Ranma's face. Ranma flinched away.


Her mother sighed. "Dear, please try not to move."


Ranma steeled herself. "Yes, Mother." She locked her neck in place as

Nodoka rubbed the cream along her cheeks. There followed a strange kind of powder - almost a paste - that was also applied to her cheeks. Ranma did

her best to keep her skin from crawling.


She couldn't help herself. "Mother?"


"Yes, dear?"


"It's not an idiosyncrasy."


Nodoka didn't answer except to apply yet another layer of makeup, this time

with a brush.


"Mom?"


"I heard you, dear," she said in a noncommittal tone of voice.


"Do you know what it means?"


"Dear." The brush slowed slightly. "Please. I'd rather not."


"I'm a guy. I'm your son."


"Ranma-"


"Mom!" Ranma saw her cheeks flushing in the mirror. "I can't be your

daughter. I know that... that you need to pretend that because... because

of today. But... but I'm not."


"Ranma." Nodoka set the small brush down. She picked up an even smaller

brush and turned Ranma's head so that they were eye-to-eye. She made a

stabbing motion towards Ranma's left eye, and Ranma closed it reflexively.

Something began to brush her eyelid, and she found the sensation quite

disconcerting.


"Ranma." Nodoka's voice had a hint of panic in it. "Why are you doing

this?"


"Because, Mom... I mean, I know what it's like to live a lie. I was Ranko

to you for so long. Every time I lied to you, it hurt. A lot. If you lie

to yourself, it's all gonna come crashing down on you and... and I don't

want to see that. I mean, hell, at one point you were going to make me kill

myself because I wasn't manly. What will you do to me later, when you can't lie to yourself any more?"


The brush moved to her other eye. "I am not lying to myself."


"Mom! You keep calling me 'dear' and treating me like a woman and calling

me your daughter."


"And what's wrong with that?"


"It's not who I am!" Ranma drew her head a little back and opened her eye.

"Paint me as much as you want, it don't change nothin'!"


Nodoka turned towards the table again. She picked up yet another brush, a

small stiff one the curved slightly. "Try not to blink." She began to

brush Ranma's lashes.


Ranma was getting more and more angry. Again. "Are you listening, Mom?"


"To every word."


"Then tell me who I am. Acknowledge who I am."


"Do you remember, dear, the story you and your fiance told me about how he found out you were pregnant?"


At the mention, a wave of nausea swept over Ranma. She swallowed several times, at the same time keeping her eyes frozen open. "Yes." Kentaro had told the story to her parents about a month ago. He wasn't particularly good at recanting anecdotes, but his bland delivery had somehow made the tale hilarious. The four of them had laughed for a long time.


"He told me that a bowl of soup flew towards you, and you leapt out of the

way."


"Uh... yes."


Nodoka finished with the eyelashes. She now picked up what looked like a

pencil. She began to draw around Ranma's eyes and eyebrows. Ranma was

afraid to ask what she was doing. "Why did you leap out of the way?"


"Umm..." Ranma wasn't sure how to answer. The question was so awkward

and... and *personal*. And embarrassing. Rather like, Ranma was forced to

admit, the questions she herself was asking her mother.


Nodoka didn't try to wait her out. "A sense of panic? Dread? A kind of

horror that had you reacting without thinking?"


"Umm..." That was actually an eerily accurate description. "Yeah."


Nodoka nodded. "Well, Ranma, my dear child, *that* is who you are to me."


Ranma's jaw dropped open. "I fill you with dread?"


"Don't be obtuse." Nodoka examined Ranma's eyes closely, then took the

pencil away and set it on the table. She returned this time with lipstick,

Ranma's mouth conveniently positioned for her to begin applying it. "I

would give my life for you. In a peculiar sort of way, I already have."


Ranma wanted to reply but couldn't because of her mother's hands maneuvering her lips around. Ranma waited, but found that when her mouth was free again she had nothing to say.


Nodoka smiled slightly and nodded. She handed a folded piece of paper to

Ranma. Ranma took it and flipped it open, but nothing was written on it.


Nodoka's smile grew a little wider. "Bite on it."


Puzzled, Ranma refolded the paper and put it between her teeth.


"With your lips, dear."


Ranma pressed her lips against the paper. She opened her mouth and saw that a bit of lipstick remained on the paper. What purpose that all served she

had no idea.


Nodoka eyed her critically. "That will do for now. After we put on the

dress we can do some final touch-ups."


Ranma looked in the mirror and froze. The person who was looking back at

her was... beautiful. The kind that would have turned her head back in high

school. Hell, it still *would* turn it. A face without blemish, cheeks

that were even in tone with a hint of color that followed the curve of her

face perfectly. Long, lush lashes, distinct eyebrows, red lips... it was

someone's ideal of beauty.


Feminine beauty.


Ranma turned her head away, unable to stand the sight of the stranger in the

mirror. "Looks great, Mom," she murmured.


"Good. Now, time for the dress."


Ranma frowned. "Already?"


"About thirty minutes, and even then, we're rushing things."


Ranma blinked. Now that she thought about it, she could hear the bustle of

background activity, voices calling out to each other, footsteps walking to

and fro downstairs. It was just about time.


Almost on cue Kasumi, wearing a light-red satin dress, poked her head in the

door. "Do you need help?"


"Yes, Kasumi, if you would please." Nodoka met Kasumi at the dress, and

they began to remove the plastic wrapping.


Ranma got up and stood in the center of the room, unsure of what she was

supposed to do.


Kasumi and Nodoka positioned themselves, each holding part of the dress much as two farmers might hold a burlap sack full of seed. "All right, take off your shirt, please," Nodoka said.


Ranma grimaced, having never felt so self-conscious in her life - and, given

some of the things that had happened to her, that was saying something. She

removed her shirt and stood practically naked before her mother and Kasumi.


Kasumi frowned slightly. "Boxer shorts?"


"Put your arms straight out in front of you," Nodoka said before Ranma could reply. Ranma sighed and complied.


Kasumi and Nodoka maneuvered the dress over her arms and down her body. Ranma felt like a mess in satin and lace. Kasumi immediately began to fasten some clasps in the back while Nodoka began rearranging the dress,

moving parts of Ranma's anatomy around that Ranma would have preferred her mother not touch. She tugged the dress in a few more places, then stepped back with Kasumi. They both looked her up and down.


Kasumi sighed. "You look lovely, Ranma-chan."


Ranma refrained from commenting.


The task was not yet complete. They had her stand there while Kasumi did

some touch-up work on her hair, then added a veil. Nodoka applied a couple

of other brushstrokes to Ranma's cheeks, then began to apply more of the

powder to the flesh that showed above the dress. Ranma stood it as best she

could.


After a bit they helped her carefully step into some shoes. Ranma grew an

inch but no more, she was relieved to note. Mastering heels was not on her

agenda for the day.


At last, Nodoka smiled widely. "Oh, Ranma... come, look at yourself." She

gently lay her hands on Ranma's shoulders to turn her towards the mirror.


"No!" Ranma twisted away and stared at the bedroom door, avoiding both the mirror and her mother's gaze.


An awkward silence filled the room. Finally, Nodoka spoke in a sad,

slightly hurt voice. "Ranma, all any of us ever want is your happiness.

You came to me and indicated that this is what you wanted. You fought me

for this. I accepted your decision because I love you. If this is not what

you want, tell me and I'll stop it. Because, again, I love you and want you

to be happy."


Ranma felt the words coming and couldn't stop them. "Tell me, Mother, if I

*did* decide to not accept this, if I instead broke off the engagement and

went and had an abortion - or even if I decided to keep the baby, but

remained single - tell me that you wouldn't be ashamed of me. Tell me that

you wouldn't think I had dishonored the family."


No answer. Ranma waited for a minute. Finally a strange sort of squeal

made her turn her head. Nodoka had her head on Kasumi's shoulder, and was sobbing as silently as she could. Kasumi was cradling Nodoka as best she could. She looked at Ranma, and there was no anger or judgment on her face, which for some reason made her gaze all the more damning for it.


Ranma felt her gut turn to ice and her heart turn to ashes. She turned in

place and walked carefully towards her mother. "Mom..." She didn't know

what to say, so instead she leaned forward to rest her forehead against her

mother's shoulder. Nodoka clutched at her, hugging her closely but still

careful with the dress.


They stood there for a couple of minutes in a mostly-silent tableau,

punctuated by the occasional sob from Nodoka. Ranma wondered if she should be crying, too, but felt no tears coming.


Another knock on the door, and Akane's voice floated from the other side.

"It's time."


Nodoka immediately released her. Ranma straightened to look into her

mother's face. Her eyes were red and puffy, and tears had marked a clear

path down her cheek. She was smiling though, and her tone was bright. "Go on. You don't want to keep the groom waiting." She seemed to want to say more, but failed to produce anything.


Ranma felt her heart squeeze in her chest. There was so much she had to say

but no time to say it. She leaned forward once again to kiss her mother's

cheek. They looked deeply into each other's eyes for a few seconds, and

Ranma wasn't sure if something was drawing them closer together or breaking them further apart in that moment.


Nodoka indicated the door. "Please. If you wish."


Ranma turned and walked slowly towards the door, her heart thumping wildly, her head churning with many strong, conflicting emotions.


She opened the door. Akane looked her up and down and broke out into a huge smile. "Wow, Ranma. You look great. Perfect. Nabiki and your mother did a wonderful job on you."


And I did a wonderful job on them, she said silently. "Where do I go from

here?"


"Follow me." She handed Ranma a bouquet of flowers then led her down the hall, carefully down the steps, and to the small foyer where a man in a

tuxedo stood surrounded by various women in red gowns.


She walked up to the man, who took her arm. The other women took position around them, ready to precede them out the door.


The man spoke in a neutral tone of voice. "Ready?"


Panic gripped her more strongly than it ever had before. "Tell you what,

Pop. You grab our bags, I'll run upstairs and change, and we go back on our

training mission."


Genma looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "Are you serious?"


"Yes. Very. I want out. I want to run away from it all and forget that

any of it ever happened."


The hallway grew very still. Nodoka and Kasumi came down the steps, Kasumi remaining with the bridesmaids while Nodoka continued out the door after a final squeezing of hands.


After another moment, Genma spoke. "There are things you can't run away

from, Son."


Ranma grimaced. "I could get an abortion. It's not too late for that. Or

hell, we could raise the kid as we went along. You did that once before."


"That's not what I mean." Genma sighed and turned to face her. "I spent

ten years running away from my problems. Running away from my duties and responsibilities. I thought at the time it would be liberating - if my

problems were behind me, they couldn't bother me." Genma shook his head.

"It didn't work. All I did was make the inevitable confrontation worse.

Much worse. I almost lost you. And I *did* lose your mother. Whatever

relationship we reach now will only be a shadow of what it once was. Of

what it might have been, if I'd only stayed and dealt with my problems

like-"


"Like a man?"


Genma looked at him disapprovingly. "I was going to say, like a true

martial artist. I showed cowardice in the face of the enemy, and was

punished for it." Genma reached out to grab Ranma's shoulder. "Please,

don't make the same mistakes I did, Son. My most important goal in my life

is to make sure that you become a better person than I was. So far, you've

done a splendid job of that. Don't backslide now."


Ranma felt a familiar anger building. "Great. You too."


Genma raised his eyebrows slightly. "What does that mean?"


"That means," Ranma said with heat, "that if I don't go through with this,

I'll have to live with *your* disappointment too."


"Don't be stupid, Ranma." A bit of irritation was creeping into Genma's

voice. "I'm saying that if you have doubts, deal with them here and now.

If you decide you don't want to get married, fine. But have the courage and

decency to talk to your fiance first. If that is what you want, I will

support you, as I always have. I only-"


"I know," Ranma overrode him. "You only want me to be happy. All the whole world wants is for me to be happy. Just so long as my happiness happens to coincide with their wishes."


Genma looked at him evenly for a moment. Then he brought his hand up in a blur to strike at Ranma's head. She ducked under the blow, only to see his

other hand jabbing at her midsection. She redirected the punch with her

free hand, at the same time leaping backwards. Bridesmaids scattered out of

the way as Ranma came to the ground ten feet away.


Ranma tossed the bouquet behind her and stood in a ready position. Damn the fact that she couldn't use her legs for attack; Genma would have a

considerable advantage. Still, she'd make do. "All right, Pop, you want

it, come get it!"


Genma stood his ground, crossing his arms across his chest. "Is that all

you're capable of, Son? Mean, spiteful words, meant to hurt as much as

possible?" He shook his head. "You are in need of a thrashing as you never

have been in your life. Now I understand why Akane kept hitting you. It

appears to be the only way to get your attention."


"I don't want anyone's attention!" Something was stealing her rationality,

and she didn't care. "I want everyone to leave me alone, I want the whole

world to go away!"


Genma frowned slightly. "And why is that?"


"LOOK AT ME!" She straightened and indicated her attire. "LOOK! I'm

getting married today and I'M WEARING A DRESS!" She turned and punched the wall hard, creating a very nice hole. "I HATE IT! I HATE WHAT I'VE BECOME AND WHAT I'M BECOMING! And I hate it that EVERYONE IS SO DAMNED HAPPY ABOUT IT!"


"Shall we hold a wake instead? Here lie the final remains of Ranma, now let

us mourn as he enters a life of eternal damnation."


Ranma made a fist. "DON'T MAKE JOKES!"


"I wasn't." Genma sighed. "Ranma, I don't believe any of it, not for one

second."


Ranma was able to bring it down a notch. "What, you calling me a liar!"


"A liar of the worst kind. The one who lies to himself."


Ranma wanted to spit. "Spare me the psychobabble, Pop. You ain't pulling

it off."


"I may not know psychology, Ranma, but I know you." Genma's tone remained even and steady, a stark contrast to Ranma's almost-shrill speech. "No one - and I mean *no one* - makes you do anything against your will."


"Like hell. You got me engaged against my will."


Genma laughed. "Like hell. I had to knock you out to get you into the

dojo, true. But I never had to knock you out again, not after you met

Akane. Afterwards you complained and moaned about the engagement, but you didn't run away from it. I knew then that you had accepted it. Wanted it, even. I had hoped that you might like one of Tendo's daughters, because I

knew if you didn't, there was no way I was going to be able to keep my

promise to him."


Ranma stood still, absorbing the words.


Genma nodded in satisfaction. "And I notice that no one had to knock you

unconscious to get that dress on you, either. You went along with it

because you knew you wanted it. But there's a large part of you is deathly

afraid of commitment - that part you got from me, I might add - and there's

a large part of you that is repelled by the idea of marrying a man. You

need to release it somehow. Usually you can use the Art to release your

negative emotions. But now, today, at the time you need the Art the most,

you're unable to use it. So you reverted to your other specialty, something

else you learned from me, to my shame. You attacked with words, and damn if you aren't remarkably effective with them. Perhaps college taught you too much."


Genma strode up to her, stopping within easy arm's reach. "So let's fight,

Ranma. Attack me for as long as it takes to get the doubt out of your

system. When you're done - when you're *sure* - then we'll proceed with

whatever decision you make."


Ranma found difficulty in breathing. "Is that the only way out of this? To

beat my father to a bloody pulp?"


"No. You can do what the rest of the world does." He indicated the people

around them. "You can trust the decisions you made to reach this point.

You can trust that those who love you and care about you would let you know if what you're doing isn't right. Everyone's happy because everyone knows that this *is* what you want and need. Instead of hurting them, try

listening to them."


Ranma looked around. Each of the women who met her gaze gave her a smile and a nod - even Nabiki. When Ranma looked at Kasumi, she smiled and said, "Ranma-chan, trust your heart. Sometimes it is the only thing that makes any logical sense."


Ranma swallowed and looked back at her father. Genma raised an eyebrow and spoke. "Do you need to attack me?"


Ranma shook her head.


"Shall we call off the wedding?"


Ranma shook her head again.


"Then are you ready to begin?"


Ranma nodded.


Akane held out a bouquet. Ranma accepted it numbly. Akane quickly

rearranged some of Ranma's clothing, including dropping the veil in place.

Someone opened the front door and music began to play. The bridesmaids

hurried into position and began walking out the door.


Genma offered his arm and Ranma took it. They held each other's eyes again.


"Tell me true, Pop. Is this what you imagined for me? Even after

Jusenkyo - even after Herb - did you ever think you and I would be doing

this?"


"The truth, Ranma? The possibility never occurred to me. After Jusenkyo, I

was afraid that your life would never settle down, that you would have one

misadventure after another and never know peace. After Herb, I was terribly

afraid you would walk your life alone and unloved. After a period of...

adjustment, I was tremendously relieved to discover that you had found love.

I know that young man will stay devoted to you for the rest of your life and

give you stability and contentment I never could. The truth, Ranma? I

never imagined a moment quite like this, but that doesn't mean I'm unhappy.

In fact, I am overjoyed beyond my ability to describe. Many years from now you'll stand in at your child's wedding, and you'll know how I feel at this moment, and why I was grateful that you provided it for me."


Ranma quirked a corner of her mouth. "Pretty sappy, old man."


It didn't phase him. "Desperate times call for desperate measures."


Ranma laughed. Genma pulled on her arm, and together they walked out the

door to the wedding party that awaited them.


Ranma looked down the aisle between the rows of folding chairs set up on the Tendo lawn. And there he was, staring at her with eyes that had grown very wide. She supposed his tuxedo was supposed to be dapper and all that, but she wasn't in the mood to notice. Indeed, a deep-seated revulsion swept

over her at the sight of him. She slowed her pace a fraction, only to be

pulled along by Genma. It was a subtle jostling, probably missed by

everyone present, and in the end Ranma made no further attempts at escape.


Genma released her at the head of the aisle, and momentum carried her the

rest of the way. She looked into his eyes, trying to find in them the

reason she was standing here.


Trust, Ranma, she thought to herself. Trust that the memory of loving him,

of telling him that you loved him, is true. Trust that Kasumi or Akane or

Nabiki or even Mom would have been observant enough to notice that you

didn't really love him, if that had been the case. Trust that the reason

there's a child growing within you is because you loved this man enough to

share yourself completely with him.


She gave him a small smile, hoping that it didn't look as false as it felt.

She would not have thought it possible that his smile could grow any wider,

but it did.


Blessedly, he was forced by the ceremony to turn his attention forward.

Ranma went through the ceremony, feeling every word like a weight on her

soul, every vow a chain on her heart, and every passing moment a wasted

chance to stop before it was too late.


Words, more words, a question, one that went on and on, finally finished,

the minister looking at her expectantly. She looked blankly at the

minister, then over at the man standing next to her. He looked back at her,

the smile still on his lips. As she continued to stare at him, the smile

began to dim, and his brow began to furrow. "Ranma?"


She whirled towards Akane. "Hold this for a sec." She thrust her bouquet

into Akane's startled hands, then reached behind her without looking to grab

his hand. "Come with me." She began to stalk down the aisle amidst the

rising clamor. She grimaced and barked at the crowd, "Everyone wait! We'll be back!"


"Ranma!" A bit of panic colored his voice. "Where are we going?"


She stopped suddenly, turned, and grabbed his tuxedo with one hand. "Hold

on." She jumped.


Various exclamations came from the crowd, one of the loudest coming from

right in front of her. Ranma concentrated on landing on the roof. Her

dress billowed around her as she came down, temporarily blinding her.


She landed and released his tuxedo. "We need to talk."


He was standing with his hand over his breast, looking slightly pale.

"Evidently. Ranma... you're not feeling good, are you?"


"Full marks to Kenny the wonder-boy. No, I do *not* feel good."


"Ranma-"


"Shut up."


He sighed and reached out to gently put his hand on her shoulder. "All

right. What is it you need to say?"


"This you call shutting up?"


He swallowed something else he was obviously about to say, then waited for

her to continue.


Ranma gritted her teeth as a seething wave of anger washed over her. After

it had mostly gone, she blurted out. "Why'd you do it?"


"Do what?"


"Make me choose. Between being either your girlfriend or nothing at all."


"I never said-"


"Don't deny it. You kept coming on and coming on, making it more and more clear that you wanted me. And when I asked if you couldn't just be my

friend, you told me flat out you couldn't. Hell, you didn't even try."


"Ranma-"


"And you *knew*. You *knew* how vulnerable I was. So easy to manipulate the desperately lonely, isn't it?"


Silence. Ranma waited, then barked out. "Well? Are you going to answer

me?"


"Are you going to let me finish speaking?"


"Damn you, Kentaro. I hate it when you act this way. Like we're all idiots

who can't get by without your divine wisdom."


"Ranma... Listen, I only said that I wanted to be *more* than friends. I

never said I would stop *being* your friend."


"Oh come *on*. You knew that once you'd crossed that line, once you'd

admitted it to my face, that there was no turning back. If I turned you

down, seeing me would cause you pain. You'd put on a face of false cheer,

but you'd have this intense longing inside of you that would torture you

horribly. And I'd feel guilty and angry at seeing you hurting like that.

We'd try, but it would get harder and harder, until we had to stop being

friends."


"You don't know-"


"I *do* know!" Ranma quivered slightly in anger. "I *lived* it! What do

you think happened between me and Akane? It woulda been the same with us. You coulda just stayed my friend. You coulda practiced a little

self-restraint, done everything you could have done to *be* my friend, and

let things move at their own pace."


"And if they didn't?" He shifted his stance slightly, careful to keep his

balance on the roof tiles. "You'd had over two years to let things move at

their own pace. They didn't. Even with my friendship, you were miserable

and likely to remain so. Something had to give."


He paused a moment, then continued. "Yes, I risked not seeing you any more. You don't know how hard that was. But it was my intent to have you decide what to do with your life. You were living an in-between existence and it was killing you. Reject me or stay with me, you were going to have to

decide something about yourself."


"Noble. It must be so great to be perfect enough to decide what other

people need and to shove what's good for them right down their throats."


"Dammit!" He sounded definitely angry now. "I'm not perfect. Hell, I

think I've proven that to you over and over. But Ranma... I *was* right.

You *did* need to make a choice. Or have you forgotten the little speech

you made to me the first time I saw you drunk?"


"Oh, the ends justifying the means, the oldest moral cop-out on the books."

Ranma shook her head. "And it was so convenient the choice you were forcing on me happened to concern being your girlfriend, neh? Certainly no other way to get through to me, was there?"


A sound almost like a growl was choked off almost immediately. "Ranma... I don't care what you say. I *was* concerned about you. I wanted you to...

to do what was... *right*. Not for me, but for *you*."


"Nice speech. But what about later? Just before graduation?"


"Hey, that was your mother who-"


"Leave my mother out of it. When graduation was looming, and I was talking about founding my own dojo. You assumed - *assumed* - that it was going to be located where you were going to med school."


"I- I only wanted you to take my med school into consideration as you chose

a place."


"And I was still struggling with what it meant to be dating a guy. You knew

I couldn't say that I loved you yet, and you knew I wasn't ready to hear you

say it. But you did. Before graduation, you told me you loved me and

wanted to marry me eventually."


"But, graduation was coming! You needed to decide something soon, and I

needed to tell you how I felt so you could understand-"


She reached out and shoved him violently away. He fell to the ground and

skidded on the tiles a small distance before he was able to stop himself.

She stalked over to stand over him. "Do you think I'm that stupid?! That I

didn't know graduation was coming, and that I needed to make a choice?!

That I didn't already know how you felt?! Did you honestly think that I

needed you, the wise future Doctor Marumoto, to tell me, the simple Phys Ed major, what the situation was?"


Shock covered his face. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.


She leaned down and looked into his face. "Answer me! Do you think I'm

stupid?"


He stared into her eyes for a while, then hung his head. "Didn't... I

mean... you... you said you loved me. Even before Akane came back."


"Yes, I said that. And I meant it. But Ken-chan... don't you think it

would have been better if I could have said it without the extra pressure?"


He was breathing heavily. What she could see of his eyes were moving back

and forth, an indication he was thinking furiously.


Finally he rose to his feet. Ranma took a step back to give him room. He

stood still for a moment making sure he had his balance, then looked into

her eyes. "I never really thought about it that way-"


Ranma barked a laugh. "That's just it. You *didn't* think. Didn't stop to

consider just what you were really asking... the pressure that you put on me

with those choices."


He sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. He spoke

in a soft, gentle voice. "You're right. I didn't. I thought... I hoped

that you wanted what I wanted. That you just needed a little push, and

maybe you'd see that. I never stopped to think that I might be pushing too

hard... that I might really be driving you further away."


He looked off to the side, unable to meet her gaze. "Oh... God, Ranma... I

am so sorry..." His head dropped further as he spoke. "I'm sorry that I

pushed you around for... for my own damned desires. I... didn't realize

just how much pressure I was putting on you." He looked up, his expression

haunted and guilty. "I, I can only say... I'm sorry."


Ranma tilted her head and considered him coolly.


He looked over his shoulder, back where the wedding had been taking place.

"And wouldn't it have been better if we'd gotten married when you were ready to get married, right? We could have had a small civil ceremony to appease your mother, and then waited for the larger celebration when you were emotionally prepared. That would have been better for you." He looked forward once more into her eyes. "For both of us."


Ranma nodded. "Quite possibly."


He spread his hands. "I... anything you want me to do... name it. I've

been a bastard, I admit. But... well, it's... I... I love you. I don't

know if that explains or excuses anything but... but it's been behind

everything I've done for the past five years."


Ranma took a step back and looked him up and down critically.


He stood there under her scrutiny, his expression one of abject misery.

When she didn't say anything, he asked, "Ranma, please, tell me what you're

feeling."


She shook her head. "One apology doesn't make up for all that you did to

me. But-" she added quickly as his face began to fall further "-it's a

start. We need to talk about this some more. Make sure we deal with this

right. Because, on my honor as head of the Tendo family, I am *not* going

to go through another ordeal like today."


He looked grim. "I think I understand. If... if you want, I... I can... go

back to my old apartment and... and we can do this when you're ready."


Ranma sighed in frustration. "Why does everyone think that just because I'm unhappy about being forced into this marriage means that I don't want to get married?"


Kentaro stood still for a moment, then approached her slowly. "Ranma, do

you want to get married?"


Ranma sighed and let loose a lot of tension. "Yes."


"To me?"


"Yes."


"A man?"


She hesitated. "As... as long as you don't expect me to act... feminine."

She gestured. "Wear dresses and makeup, that whole bit."


He nodded. "I promise. You're right it's... it's not how I think of you,

really." He bit his lip. "But Ranma... do you mind if I think of you as...

as the mother of our child?"


She rubbed her stomach through the dress, where a bulge was only just barely beginning to show. "No, I don't mind. I... it's something I... Well, I

don't mind."


"Ranma." He reached out to cup her cheeks. "For the record: I don't think

you're stupid. If anyone's been stupid, it's me."


Ranma shook her head. "You weren't stupid. Just inconsiderate."


"Yes."


"And selfish."


"Yes."


"And unfair."


"Yes."


"And-"


"Don't push it."


For the first time that day, genuine amusement bubbled up in her, putting a

smile on her lips. "You're learning. That's good. If I make enough things

blindingly obvious to you in my own subtle way, you might actually be

tolerable."


He laughed, and she could hear quite a bit of relief in it. He quieted

down. "As corny as this sounds, can we make today the first day of the rest

of our lives together?"


She chuckled. "Corny is what you specialize in, Ken-chan. But I do like

the idea of a fresh start."


He carefully got down on one knee. "Tendo Ranma, will you-"


"Stow the theatrics, Marumoto." She reached down and pulled him to his

feet.


He furrowed his brow. "Ranma, tell me... how are you feeling?"


Ranma looked up at the sky. "Not the best. I just wish... that... oh hell,

I don't even know where to begin." She looked into his eyes. "It comes

down to the same old thing. I don't know about the Nyannichuan, and Herb,

and what happened between me and Akane, and what happened to me at college, and what I went through when Mom found out, and the whole pregnancy thing... There's so much stuff I'd like to change about how that all happened. But the one thing I don't want to change is falling in love with you."


He smiled tentatively at her.


She shook her head. "Just don't think you can abuse that, make me do

anything you want just because-"


"I won't. I absolutely promise. I think I've pushed that to the straining

point."


"And damn near beyond." She sighed and grabbed his tuxedo again. "Let's

get this over with." She jumped, her dress once again billowing about her.


He yelped again as they landed. He swallowed heavily. "Ranma... could you warn me before you do that?"


A bit of amusement further penetrated her gloom. "I suppose." She grabbed

his arm. "Let's go." She turned and blinked at the large crowd that had

gathered.


"Ranma." Akane's voice was on the verge of laugher. "You *do* have a most unique style for resolving conflicts. I guess it was good you guys got this straightened out. But Ranma..." She tilted her head, an affectionate grin

covering her face. "Boxer shorts?"


Ranma flushed as a chuckle passed through the crowd.


Kentaro bent down and spoke softly in her ear. "Just so you know, I find

them rather attractive. The dress and makeup - that's not the Ranma I know.

The boxer shorts - they *are* the Ranma I know."


Ranma looked up once again into his eyes. She saw a large part of guilt

there, but also a gentle humor. And love.


And that, she supposed, was all right.


She nodded her head. "I do."


His face grew serious. "I do, too. And I promise... to never ever pressure

you again."


Sure, a voice in her head said, now that he's got everything he wanted, he's

ready to give you some room. She suppressed yet another sigh and tilted her

head up towards him. He raised her veil and kissed her as the audience

applauded.


She closed her eyes and tried to enjoy it. And she did, after a fashion.

She loved him and looked forward to a life together with him, starting with

the life that was growing inside her. She imagined a nice future in front

of her.


If she could escape the ghosts of the past.


She deepened the kiss just to keep herself from thinking too much.


The minister spoke from somewhere in the crowd. "I now pronounce you man

and wife."


Somewhere deep inside her mind, Ranma shuddered.


~*~