[FFML] [Fanfic] Quantum Destinies 35 - Prereader Draft (2/2)

[Jurai Knight]

Here is the second half of the chapter, if anyone is reading.


xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Down in the bowels of the Imperial Academy, a cloaked and hooded figure made its way down a basement hallway. Every now and then, it furtively glanced around, checking for anyone following. With the sheer number of gray-uniformed security cadets lurking about campus, such caution was not unwarranted. Eventually, the figure neared its destination: a little used planning room on the lowermost basement level. The sounds of steam pipes dripping and other mysterious sounds could be heard in the distance.

The figure moved with deft silence, pausing before a door with a guard next to it, a hard-faced girl in a gray uniform. She moved to block the cloaked figure from entry and looked the newcomer over.

“Password,” the guarding girl said grimly, her hand coming out from behind her back, having drawn a combat shock stick and looking quite prepared to use it.

“Hunkmeister,” the figure promptly replied.

“Wrong.” The guard remained standing where she was, but she shifted her grip on the weapon, as if readying it for imminent use.

The cloaked figure paused in thought. “Uh, studmuffin?”

“That was the password last week.”

The cloaked figure released a sigh and pulled back her hood to reveal her features. “Look, Miyamoriko. It’s me, Saya. You’ve known me since we were kids. You need to let me in. I’m going to be late for today’s meeting, and you know this one’s really important.”

“None shall pass,” Miyamoriko informed her coolly.

“Please?”

“You have to give me the correct password.”

Saya grinned mirthlessly. “The password is, ‘Stand down and let me in before I beat the crap out of you for annoying me.’“

“That’s not the password!” Miyamoriko objected.

Saya kept grinning and began slowly cracking her knuckles. “Well, since I just took the captaincy of the Academy’s Women’s Karate team, and you’re still near the bottom of your class in hand-to-hand combat training so you do the math. I don’t think you’d need to be one of those blue-uniformed science geeks to get the right answer.”

“You can pass,” Miyamoriko gulped and allowed the other girl into the chamber beyond.

Sub-Basement Planning Room 4-B was laid out rather simply, and it had not been used much in the past few years. The walls were a nondescript slate gray and made of pre-stressed concrete. It was wired for sound, with a screen for a projection television unit affixed to the far wall, with the projector designed to drop down from the ceiling as it was now, and it even had a high-speed datanet connection. Several dozen metal folding chairs were set up for the occupants of the room, an almost even mix of girls in blue or gray uniforms. Since every chair was already occupied, some girls were standing against the walls.

Saya tossed her cloak to a girl in the blue uniform of a science cadet, who promptly added it to a sizable pile of similar garments. All the regulars were present, and several clusters of girls made up of those wearing both colors of uniforms were talking to each other. The mood in the room was very grim, which wasn’t normal, but the appearance of the Chinese Amazon girl was cause for great concern. Two members of the Go Club were playing a game on a miniature board while they waited for the meeting to start, but their attention was clearly not on it.

At the front of the room, the two co-leaders of the Ranma Saotome Fan Club were discussing something quietly, as they normally did before a meeting. Actually, Nanami Jinai was asking questions and Ami Mizuno was doing her best to answer them, occasionally pointing at something on her laptop’s computer screen. It was probably the latest analysis of Saotome’s techniques, in their seemingly never-ending quest for a weak spot to exploit.

Noticing her enter, Nanami stopped what she was doing and quickly called the meeting to order. Saya was apparently the last person to arrive, and it looked like the group’s membership had grown larger again. Since it was no longer possible to hide their presence from Nabiki Tendo and her cronies because of their numbers, there was no longer any reason to hide.

“Now that everyone is here, we may begin the meeting,” Nanami loudly announced. “I know we’re all very concerned about the new development over the weekend with that miserable bi- Chinese girl, but I wanted to start off lighter. We managed to get some more excellent footage last week, courtesy of our members from the AV Club.” Two girls, one wearing glasses, nodded and smiled. “And Mizuno-san has been working with one of our science cadet members who is studying kinesiology,” pointing to a girl with short hair, “to try and improve our levels of accuracy in analyzing Saotome-san’s physique in motion. As you know, the major difficulty up until now has been in remaining detached enough to do proper analysis, without getting caught up in how marvelously he moves, ignoring that handsome face of his, and those deep blue eyes that a girl could simply lose herself in, feeling her heart filled with a burning passion and a yearning desire for-”

“Ahem!” Ami Mizuno cleared her throat, interrupting the fantasy before everyone’s attention was lost.

“Right!” Nanami blurted out, quite startled to realize that even she was beginning to get caught up in Ranma-mania, and that clearly lacked profitability. She had to maintain a cooler head, and she set her mind back on the matter at hand. “Anyway, despite the temptations of such things, we’re improving our analysis of the data. Lights!”

The illumination in the room dimmed and the television projector hanging from the ceiling lit up. Nanami pulled out from her pocket a small laser pointer and snapped her fingers at Ami, who quickly called up a video file from her laptop, complete with a time-date stamp in the lower right corner. The scene was in the hallway near the cafeteria, with Ranma caught in slow motion as he dealt with four girls coming at him at once.

“Here you can see Saotome-san using one of his normal opening patterns to multiple attackers,” she started, using her laser pointer to point at one of the girls, which happened to be Saya. “As is his preference, he appears to be applying a minimal amount of force in his subdual techniques, a sign of a gentleman warrior.” She smiled as she heard several girls sigh wistfully at that, and she could see a few nodding in the dim light, their attention rapt upon the images.

The video slowed down to one-eighth speed, and Saya’s foot could be seen moving past Ranma’s face, the pigtailed boy having dodged it without even appearing to look in that direction. One arm came up as his hips and shoulders twisted, his image moving visibly faster than Saya’s, and he deftly hooked her limb and redirected it into the face of another girl coming at him. He then allowed Saya to pass over him and take a strike across her ribs from a jo stick meant for him by a third, before finishing up by landing a punch squarely into the fourth girl’s solar plexus, and then a kick into the jaw of the third girl. It had the appearance of careful choreography, like Ranma had practiced such moves for years.

“As can be seen, Saotome-san prefers utilizing his attackers against each other, a sensible strategy when outnumbered.” There was a murmur of agreement from those in the crowd, and even some side commentaries between the girls as they took notes. “But even a lion can be brought down by enough wolves. Perhaps the secret is in trying to increase the sheer number of bodies coming at him at once and coordinating their attacks better. Even Saotome-san’s impressive skills can’t keep up with a large group of synchronized attackers.” That statement prompted more murmuring of agreement from those in the room, and there were a few knots of cadets whispering to each other about ways that they might work together in an array to more effectively fight him.

“But I think we’re starting to lose sight of the objective in all this talk about strategy and tactics,” said Nanami, snapping her fingers at Ami. A still image suddenly replaced the one of Ranma in motion, and there was a collective sigh from the assembled girls.

“This is our goal.” The scene was taken from the boys’ locker room at the Academy, as if looking down from the ceiling. It was a frontal picture of Ranma, naked save for a towel wrapped around his waist, in the process of scrubbing another towel through his unbound hair as he emerged from the shower area. What caught every girl’s attention was not the amount of skin being shown, but the hint of more as the towel at his waist appeared to be about to slip off. There was a sudden outpouring of sighs, wolf whistles, and cheers.

“And this is the alternative if we fail.” The picture changed to that of Hiroshi and Daisuke, caught in the act of leering in the direction of some faceless, nameless female cadets. This time a loud chorus of boos, groans, and even some rather colorful swear words emanated from the audience in response. Loud cries demanded Nanami go back to the first picture, and she happily complied. It was one she had printed up for sale later, now that the girls interest had been whetted.

“Now that we have renewed our morale, the next step is to discuss the new threat that has suddenly appeared-”

The rest was cut off as the door, and part of the wall surrounding it, suddenly exploded inward. Saya, like many of the girls, reacted immediately, springing to her feet and assuming a combat stance, waiting for the attacker to make an appearance. As the dust began to settle, a bruised and battered Miyamoriko could be seen sprawled in the debris, bleeding a bit, her shock baton broken into pieces, and a pair of silhouettes could be made out in the hole that had once been a doorway.

Could Nabiki and her chief stooge, Yohko Mano, have found them already? But even if it was, Saya maintained her stance, confident the group could handle whoever the trespassers were, at least until the dust settled enough for her to make out their features.

“Gods, no,” Saya gasped, her courage abandoning her in the face of the overwhelming power set before her. “What are you two doing here? This isn’t your school.”

Revy, a lit cigarette in her mouth, grinned maliciously. She was dressed in her preferred casual outfit: a pair of military jungle boots, very short cut-off jeans and a black crop-top that left her belly exposed. Rather than buttoning up her pants all the way, she was using an Imperial Army webbing belt to hold them up instead. Her two training weapons rested securely in a pair of brown leather cross-draw shoulder holsters, and she also wore fingerless black gloves. She was tugging at the bottom of one of them with her fingers as she stood there, making sure it was fastened snugly.

At her right stood Roberta, smiling grimly, the shine of her glasses hiding her eyes and giving her a soulless look. She wore an ankle-length black skirt, a loose, white silk blouse and Mary Jane-style shoes with white socks. Like Revy, her training weapons were held in a pair of cross-draw shoulder holsters, only in black. Her hands were covered in white leather gloves with the knuckle areas reinforced.

Revy sneered, “We heard about your little club. You bitches are losers, and there’s no need for you weaklings anymore.” The pair then attacked, causing the room to explode in sudden fury.

The entire battle lasted less than thirty seconds before the duo stood alone, everyone else sprawled out unconscious on the floor or laid out on top of overturned furniture in various poses, many them bleeding. The lights were mostly out now, the occasional spark popping from shattered bulbs. Roberta made her way through the prone girls, casually kicking one poor security cadet hard in the face that was starting to regain consciousness and then bent low, brushing aside Ami’s hand from where it still clutched limply at her precious laptop. The image of Ranma was still being displayed on its screen, and the pair examined it closely. They then grinned at each other.

“She’s got a whole bunch of picture files about him on here, it looks like, so let’s see,” said Roberta. Poking through the archives, she quickly discovered a folder of video clips, all date-stamped from weeks ago. Curious, she opened one up to play, and both girls immediately gawked at what they saw. Despite their intense, abiding disdain for each other, they immediately crowded their heads together and watched the video in complete astonishment.

“H-holy! H-he’s totally plowing her!” declared Revy in shock, her cigarette dropping unnoticed from her lips, never expecting to see what she was looking at, trying to reconcile it with the boy she recently met and failing. She stared fixedly as Ranma, still caught up in the grip of the Nekoken, mated with Tiger in a seething fury of animal lust and primitive passions in the Imperial Academy’s dorms, the catgirl clearly enjoying it from her lustful expressions. “D-Damn! Th-the guy’s a total beast! An animal!”

Roberta felt her heart beating faster. “H-he’s dominating her.” She could not seem to tear her eyes away from the scene. “M-making her his woman.”

“Oh man! I-I’ve totally changed my mind on this Ranma guy,” Revy said in a husky contralto, her gaze still riveted on to the screen. She absently licked her lips. “Oh yeah, if all these bitches are after him like this, he must be a god in bed. Look at him go! I really want some of what she’s getting. He’s so going to do me like that!”

Roberta kept staring at the screen in wide-eyed awe. “I-I think you’re right.” She felt so fortunate that the Cardinal had chosen her for this from among the other novitiates. The room seemed so warm now, she was starting to sweat. Would he be like this her?

“I think you two are in deep shit, and it’s getting deeper by the second,” suddenly growled an ominous female voice behind them.

Both girls whirled around, seeing the grim figure of Balalaika standing there right behind them, the Russian woman’s burned face ominously lit from below by the laptop’s screen. Roberta suddenly dropped it in her astonishment.

“OH, FU-!”

Standing outside the room, Cherry calmly smoked his pipe as another explosion of fury occurred, and he listened to the sounds of brutal violence with interest. Now and then, bodies could be heard getting slammed hard into solid concrete along with other wince-inducing sounds of savagery. Then, about a minute later, an ominous silence suddenly fell. Around the corner eventually appeared Balalaika, glowering, dragging the unconscious, beaten bodies of the two delinquent girls behind her, one held in each of her hands. She nodded brusquely to him and then continued on her way, hauling the pair off by their shoulder holsters.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Genma reclined a bit in his office chair and smiled jovially at the person seated on the other side of his desk, the two of them alone in his small office at the Ministry of Science. She was a rather tall, well-built, Chinese woman dressed in a blue, V-necked, qipao-styled dress and low-heeled shoes. When she sat down and crossed her long legs, he could not help but notice their sleek definition, as well as the compact muscle tone of her arms, recognizing a fellow martial artist.

Her card rested in front of him on his desk: Chun-Li Chung. A reporter for the Imperial Times, one of Tokyo’s largest metropolitan newspapers, she wrote a weekly column in their sports section, focusing on Arena fighters of note, both here in Japan and abroad. Most reporters who covered this subject were male, but she was very knowledgeable on the subject, being a former champion herself, having won the Emperor’s Tournament and her citizenship a few years ago. She was twenty-one years old now.

“Thank you for granting me this interview on such short notice, Saotome-hakase.” Chun-Li smiled brightly at him and smoothed her skirt a bit with one hand. “Your son has really made quite an impression in the Arena world, coming out of nowhere like this. He took Shan Pu totally by surprise with that Amaguriken technique. I’ve never seen that many punches thrown so quickly. Even my own Lightning Kick isn’t quite as fast, although it hits harder than rapid-fire punches would.”

“I’m happy to talk about my son, Chung-san. What would you like to know? My time is yours this morning.”

Activating her recorder with her thumb, she said, “Let’s start with the Anything-Goes School of Martial Arts. I did a bit of research on the name. The founder has been dead for decades, so I’m wondering how you and Ranma came to learn of it. Happosai-“ She paused, wondering why Genma suddenly looked around so fearfully.

“Saotome-hakase? Are you all right?”

“Sorry,” Genma replied, forcing himself to calm. 

The Master is not here! The Master is not here!

He repeated that mantra a few more times to compose himself. “My tea must be too strong this morning.”

Once he was calmer, he began relating the cover story he had come up with to explain Ranma’s fighting abilities. “To answer your question, Chung-san, I discovered several old scrolls among a collection of curios I acquired years ago that detailed the long-lost Anything-Goes style, which is a variant form of Kempo. Recognizing their great value to the world of martial arts, Ranma and I studied them exhaustively and trained to use them, and we eventually developed our own variant: The Saotome School of Anything-Goes Martial Arts.”

Chun-Li nodded. “It’s a very eclectic and interesting style, but it’s definitely strong and reminds me a bit of Lee-sensei’s Jeet Kune Do in some ways. I’ve watched the recording of your son’s fight with Shan Pu several times over the past few days, and I was astonished by the sheer breadth of his techniques that he demonstrated during the fight. Ranma must have studied with numerous masters over the years. He appears to be very well-versed in Jiu-Jitsu, Karate, Kung Fu, Muay Thai and a host of other styles from across Asia. It’s no wonder that Lee-sensei took such a great interest in him and made him his disciple.”

“Yes.” Genma nodded, smiling. He took a sip of his tea.

“I’d love to see the scrolls sometime,” Chun-Li said brightly. She noted him cough suddenly. “Saotome-hakase?”

“S-sorry, I need to stop drinking such strong tea.” He coughed once more into his fist. “Uh, I’m afraid the scrolls were destroyed before we returned to Japan. We were in Russia at the time. Shortly before coming back home, there was a fire.”

Chun-Li hummed briefly, sounding unconvinced. Her reporter’s instincts were telling her that there was more to the story than she was hearing. Something wasn’t adding up. She made a note to herself to interview Ranma at length, and she would use her time with him to verify if Genma’s story was accurate.

“Well, that’s a shame,” she finally said. Shifting in her seat, she uncrossed her legs briefly before recrossing them the other way and resting one hand on her knee. “I’d love to hear more details about his training then. Do you think I might be allowed to interview Ranma as well?” 

Chun-Li subtly took a deep breath for good measure and smiled, knowing the distracting effect her figure could have on men, having used it to excellent effect during her fighting days. Shan Pu’s skilled use of her femininity reminded her quite a bit of herself years ago. She would have to schedule an interview with the Amazon to see how she was taking all this.

Charmed by the Chinese woman’s beauty, Genma nodded. “Uh, any time.”

“Wonderful.” Chun-Li smiled at him brightly again, relaxing a bit and sitting up straighter in her chair. “Now, getting back to the questions I wanted to ask you...”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Breakfast with Shampoo that morning had been a tense affair, the two of them barely speaking to each other while they ate together, sitting at a corner booth in the cafeteria. The Amazon had made it quite clear to him before their meal began that she strongly disapproved of his even considering the offer made by Cardinal Synn to train him. This annoyed him since she kept acting like her viewpoint was the only one that mattered, but he kept that opinion to himself, not wanting to make things even worse between them.

He realized later while walking back to his room, after cooling off a bit and thinking about it more rationally while considering other versions of the Chinese girl he knew, that Shampoo’s attitude was probably quite normal among the women of her tribe. He would try to make some allowances for their cultural differences for now, but she would eventually have to learn to respect his views better, or any relationship between them would never work out. Her Amazon mindset reminded him unpleasantly of how Nabiki treated him whenever he voiced his opinions to her, expecting him to fall into line and do whatever she decided.

Why couldn’t Shampoo understand how much of an opportunity this was for him? She was a martial artist too. His analogs had accepted special training from others to learn powerful techniques and controlling the boost was no different from learning one of those. Besides, he had to beat her in their upcoming rematch as losing a fight had become anathema to him, like it was for any of his martial artist analogs. 

They had parted company still disagreeing over the matter.

After stripping off his shirt, Ranma hopped on one foot for a few moments before he could remove his pants. He then caught sight of himself in the bathroom mirror after discarding his outer clothing. On a whim, he began idly doing some muscle poses, dressed in only his underwear shorts.

As he watched himself flexing, a pleased smile appeared on his face. It still astonished him a bit how impressive his physique was now, ever since his plummet into that vat of Jusenkyo water. While he had never really been a scrawny sort before, the muscular, well-defined young man he saw gazing back at him from the mirror made the physique he used to have when he first enrolled at the Imperial Academy seem almost sickly in comparison, unhappily recalling his bitter struggles during those early days of training with Coach Takami.

Ranma’s foot lashed upwards in a side kick as his torso torqued over to a position roughly parallel to the floor, ending the maneuver with his legs forming a perfect, vertical line. He could barely feel any strain while holding the split-legged position, one he never would have been capable of doing before, let alone so easily, demonstrating his vastly improved flexibility. It puzzled him though, how he was now like this.

That vat he fell into just didn’t fit his understanding of how Jusenkyo water worked, so he was baffled why his male form was so different now. The files he purloined from the Mobius Institute concerning Jusenkyo were still awaiting his review, sitting in one of his private data caches for retrieval, and he knew he should read them once his situation with Shampoo was resolved, to better understand what he was dealing with.

However, he was gradually coming to realize that how he got to be like this didn’t seem to matter much to him anymore, which was probably why he felt so little urgency at learning more. Both his male and female modes were blessedly free of the limiters he had once struggled with so much, allowing him to utilize the full repertoire of martial arts skills he possessed without any hindrances.

Even his ability to resist injuries was improved, almost like he was made of iron now or something. Much like his other selves, he could still be hurt, bruised, bleed and even get knocked out if hit hard enough, but getting thrown through a wall, bludgeoned by heavy objects or even plummeting off a building into the ground probably wouldn’t cause him to sustain any broken bones or the other sorts of serious injuries that he used to be prone to. His recent fight with Shampoo had exceeded the levels that his past scuffles with Nabiki were like, and he was able to recover from it soon after, far more quickly than he ever had before. The severe beatings he once suffered from the likes of Kinnosuke Kashuoh and this world’s version of Ryoga Hibiki probably wouldn’t hurt him quite as badly anymore.

While he knew he wasn’t superhuman and shouldn’t let himself get too cocky, he kept feeling the arrogance of his other selves lurking within him, as if waiting to come out. Even Ranko’s memories held some of that same sort of confidence in her fighting abilities. While he seemed to have his mind under much better control now, he still occasionally slipped and found himself thinking and reacting more like those other selves than the more cautious person he used to be. Even so, that really didn’t seem to trouble him as much anymore, so maybe he was just adapting to the way things were now, how exciting his life was.

Ever since that day months ago when he first experienced those other worlds, an odd certainty had been arising within him, like an epiphany or something, that he was now the person he was truly meant to be. His emergence from the Jusenkyo water almost seemed like a metamorphosis event, like a butterfly leaving its chrysalis or something. That insight enabled him to begin letting go of wondering how his analogs would handle the weird situations he kept finding himself dealing with nowadays. This was his life and his world, not theirs, but he could use their experiences to help him chart his life’s course towards a future that would be wholly of his own choosing.

Setting his foot back down, Ranma stood there for several moments, lost in thought, studying himself in the mirror solemnly. He was aware that it was a bit narcissistic of him to think so, but it gratified him to know for a fact how handsome he was from a female viewpoint, feeling Ranko’s ‘ghost’ lurking in his subconscious and judging him quite favorably. He knew she found him desirable, recalling the erotic dreams he used to have involving the two of them together, dreams he no longer seemed to experience ever since her memories became better integrated into his persona.

Having Ranko’s lifetime of experiences within him, the gender dysphoria he once felt so strongly after first gaining his female form had been rapidly fading with time. The deep sense of shame and self-hatred that used to fill him when he first viewed his female body, the existential horror at suddenly being a girl instead of a boy, had echoed the moods of his martial artist analogs. But once the initial shock began wearing off, those negative emotions had begun waning due to her presence in his mind. Her memories were what enabled him to perfectly simulate female speech patterns and mannerisms whenever he chose, without any conscious thought on his part, acting just as a real girl would.

While his cursed analogs gradually learned to tolerate wearing female clothing and improved their mimicry of femininity as they acclimated to having a girl’s form, to them it was just a tool they used to get free food, eat something a guy would be too embarrassed to be seen eating, learn a combat technique, or just fool others. They didn’t think like a girl would or have any genuine female modesty. Their masculine identities remained fully intact, even while wearing a dress and eating a chocolate parfait. They also loathed being touched or grabbed by any males while female, which usually provoked a violent response when it happened.

However, Ranma realized with a bit of apprehension that this wasn’t the case for him in his own adaptation process, one involving his inward self as much as his outward form. There was something happening to him that those other cursed selves never needed to deal with. It was certainly something he had never expected to occur from using the resonator.

He was beginning to notice boys.

Not noticing them as in sizing them up as potential opponents or comparing his male self with them to see who was manlier, like how he had been viewing them the past few months. No, now he was _noticing_ them, reacting to them like a girl would, like how he had once only responded to girls. The sight of a comely woman was still powerfully attractive to him, and even thinking about his own female body right now, recalling the shapeliness of her buxom frame, strongly enticed him. He still experienced such feelings in his girl form, but they seemed a bit more subdued and vague lately.

Instead, seeing a handsome boy was beginning to elicit quite similar reactions inside him, and he wasn’t exactly sure when that first began happening. It probably coincided with his gaining a female body. Perhaps that stressful event had caused Ranko’s sexual inclinations to become integrated into the region of his subconscious where his libido was, like how his martial arts skills seemed to suddenly possess him while he was fighting with Akane all those weeks ago.

As his gender dysphoria faded, and he became less distracted by those feelings of shame and angst, these new responses and urges gradually took their place. They seemed keener whenever he was female, but he was also starting to feel them when male. Even imagining his own male self could cause a reaction, especially when in his girl form, a hankering for it, an echo of what it was like in the dreams he once had involving her.

Returning to his room after yesterday’s training session with Master Lee was when he finally became fully aware of this mental shift, catching himself casually checking out a handsome boy getting Arena tickets for himself and his date. The whole experience had felt quite natural and normal since he was a girl at the time, until he suddenly realized just what he was doing. It was quickly dismissed as a temporary aberration in his thinking brought on by exhaustion, stress and being in his female form all day long. His need for sleep had quickly blotted the awkward situation from his awareness, and he had breezed by the nameless young man and his date without taking another look at him, totally forgetting it by the time he reached his room.

Then it happened again just a little while ago as he was on his way to the elevators after eating breakfast with Shampoo. A Japanese youth about his age in the lobby caught his attention as he was passing by. He didn’t say anything to the other boy or even pause long, quickly realizing with shock that he was checking out another guy again.

Now that he was rested, fed and freed of other distractions for the moment, he was considering the two events and the strange new urges and instincts associated with them. Truthfully, he was a little weirded out by it all, but he could also admit to himself that he was experiencing a temptation to explore this aspect of being a girl. He knew his cursed analogs would be utterly horrified by the whole notion if it happened to one of them, but it was only making him feel a bit confused about his gender identity and sexual orientation.

Being male was normal and comfortable, since he had been one all his life. But being female also felt that way now as well, which he knew was due to having Ranko’s memories interwoven with his own. He felt no desires to abandon his male self and still thought of himself as being ‘Ranma’ even when he was female, and he was starting to enjoy the experience of being a girl sometimes, finding it cathartic in some ways. The new perspectives it gave him on the human condition were proving very revealing. Being female just wasn’t this horrible burden to him like it was for his analogs, and the rapt attention his female form received from boys was very flattering to his ego.

Ranma wondered if this was anything like it was for Ukyo’s aunt Yumi, who had lived with the inverse of his own situation for many years. She eventually chose to accept her curse, willingly spending time each week in her male form and she seemed to be doing all right emotionally. Her example was probably worth emulating, and he should ask her for advice on how he should proceed.

Maybe instead of fretting about his curse and the current state of his masculinity, he should try to accept that half of his being was now female and start exploring all that went along with that. After all, it was a rare opportunity to learn a few things about life that someone limited to a single gender would never be able to experience. And being a girl wasn’t all bad.

‘Ranko’ wasn’t a separate entity from him, the Ms. Hyde to his Dr. Jekyll or something, instead she was more like a mask he could wear, and his female self was even starting to develop her own social circle. Only girls so far, since Yumi’s male form didn’t really count, but it was certain that one or more boys would eventually want to become friends with his girl self someday, maybe even something more. Keeping his male identity secret would allow him to experiment with how females socialized with others without tainting the results, which seemed a valid sociological study. What might he learn from it? Perhaps he could even write a research paper about his experiences someday, if the Mobius Institute ever allowed it.

As attractive as his female aspect was, the day she acquired her first male friend was probably not very far off, so he knew he should prepare himself for that seminal event. The notion of spending time with another boy while he was female was a daunting prospect and yet also a bit illicitly enticing. That realization was causing him to wonder just how far he might allow himself to go in his explorations of the whole female experience. The possibilities were tantalizing, which he knew would horrify his cursed analogs if they were around for him to discuss his upcoming experiment. As it was, the aspects of his personality that were derived from them were quiescent, perhaps in a state of shock that he was considering doing this.

Letting his Ranko identity become a student at the Imperial Academy would subject his female side to the lecherous attentions of his male classmates. As she was unquestionably gorgeous and better built than about every other girl he knew, even Shampoo and Nabiki, there would likely be impassioned declarations of love thrown her way before she even made it past the front gates. He could easily imagine Ranko’s locker filling to overflowing each day with love letters. That would be troublesome and would also likely annoy his female classmates, which he didn’t want, preferring to fit in among other girls.

Thinking about it some more, he could only foresee a few ways he might mitigate that problem when he was female. The first was the simplest, most direct and most violent: beating up every boy that came near his girl aspect with lecherous or romantic intent. Knowing that different versions of Akane had repeatedly fought off hordes of lovesick boys seeking to date her was enough evidence to him that engaging them here in hand-to-hand combat likely wouldn’t work that well. In the worst-case scenario, it might even backfire, drawing a stronger group of macho jerks to attack his female form thinking they could forcibly tame her or something. It would probably end up being a lot like the flock of wearisome girls that kept attacking him at school nowadays, only a bit more challenging.

The second option was also simple but at least had the advantage of being less violent: bluntly rejecting every declaration of love and tearing up every letter given his girl form. That probably wouldn’t make the boys go away either and might cause them to try even harder. The absolute last thing he wanted was to be inundated with desperate young men attempting to date his female aspect, which again would make the other girls in his school jealous of their new classmate’s sudden popularity. That sort of situation would be very counter-productive to one of his experiment’s goals: acquiring a few female friends to socialize with.

While the last way he could think of would likely work best, it created other issues: picking out a boy and having Ranko publicly declare him to be her boyfriend, which would result in her being taken off the dating market. The one chosen for that honor would then effectively act as her shield, fending off all the other boys from bothering her for dates and be an unwitting experimental assistant in exploring what dating and romance was like from the girl’s perspective. The main issue in getting this plan off the ground would be picking the right boy for the job.

Ranma’s current train of thought brought him to muse about the boys he knew in his different lives; a few of whom were actually girls cursed to turn male. So far, he had encountered analogs of Nabiki and Shampoo who were struggling with their own gender-changing Jusenkyo curses in two other worlds, and Ukyo’s Aunt Yumi in this one had eventually ended up making peace with her own curse years ago, having never found a cure. Her situation showed him it was likely he would have his girl form for the rest of his life, and so he probably shouldn’t waste a lot of energy hunting for cures, since it could be futile. While the notion of retaining his female aspect really wasn’t bothering him very much anymore, likely due to his increased comfort level with being a girl, he realized his analogs would freak out if they thought their curses would never end.

In other circumstances, Yumi’s male form would have made for a solid choice as Ranko’s boyfriend, since he appeared to be in his late teens. However, as he was officially her brother in this world, most people would find it creepy. Another downside was that Ranma knew he would not get any objective data on how a real boy acted in a dating relationship with his girl form. However, it would be a very good way to practice at it and much safer for his initial experiments, like riding a bicycle with training wheels attached.

The only way it could work would be if they told others that Ranko was adopted, which made sense since Ranma’s girl form didn’t look much like Yumi whereas Yumi-kun did. This should reduce the creepiness factor quite a bit, and hopefully down to near nil. He made a mental note to speak with Yumi about this, to get her take on his idea. He hoped she would be willing to do it as a favor to him, so he planned to ask her first before he investigated other alternatives.

While there were a few real boys he knew who weren’t too horrid, Ranma quickly realized that most of the ones in his peer group at school were lecherous jerks. If he put his girl form out in front of that pack of starving animals without taking some sort of social precautions like he was considering, he’d never be able to get anything done at school in his female form. They’d swarm her every time she showed up for classes, and the more aggressive and suicidal boys might even try to grope her or something, like a certain samurai wannabe he could think of and his scummy womanizer friend. This would force his girl form to employ option one for a while, until the offenders either relented of their own volition or had to be carted off on a stretcher to the hospital.

The Esper boy Kyosuke, Yohko’s boyfriend, was the only male friend he really had and one of the few guys in his school he knew well enough to exclude from the jerk category. Kyosuke was kind-hearted, considerate and he was even sort of good-looking. After having thought that last part, Ranma immediately realized he should stop thinking about his friend that way, an embarrassed blush appearing on his face, and he rapidly moved on.

While they weren’t friends here, Ranma knew other versions of Daisuke and Hiroshi that were pretty good buddies with one of his analogs, although they could be a bit too lecherous at times. They didn’t seem to be much different in personality here, but he knew from comments they made within his hearing that the two boys were jealous of his ‘success’ with girls. Ranma wasn’t sure if having multiple unwanted engagements and being attacked every day by his crazed fan club could really be called a rousing success with girls in anyone’s view.

In Ranko’s world, numerous boys had immediately declared their undying love for her shortly after her arrival on campus, with that world’s versions of Hiroshi and Daisuke among them. However, it was pretty clear to her from the beginning that the boys only wanted to get into her pants or feel her up, not actually get to know her as a person. She had firmly turned them all down, although a few of the more persistent cases required repeated applications of violence to finally dissuade them. Ranko had found their lecherous attentions an unwanted distraction from her studies, one of the reasons she spent most of her time at school in her lab with the door bolted shut.

This had earned her a rather distressing reputation for a girl that she was aware of, learning that her male peers were speculating she was either a lesbian or that she would be a wildcat in bed once she met a strong enough boy. This might be why Nabiki’s analog there kept on fighting with her, Ranma mused, the Tendo boy’s doomed method of courting her or something. While his female analog didn’t consider Daisuke and Hiroshi to be her friends, they were much nicer to her than they ever were to him, so he kept them on his mental list as additional possibilities for his scheme. If one of them ended up being his final selection, it would serve them right to get beaten into paste over becoming known as Ranko’s boyfriend.

As undeniably attractive as his female aspect was, probably the biggest hurdle he could foresee having to deal with would be keeping whichever ‘lucky’ boy was chosen to be his girl aspect’s boyfriend from trying to get into her pants or feel her up. That said, in all honesty he could sympathize with that a bit though, since he was an adolescent boy himself much of the time and not quite as prudish as his two cursed analogs. He could admit feeling lust for the girls he knew, which also included the lush frame of his own female analog. What boy wouldn’t want to have someone built like she was as their girlfriend and then do naughty things with her?

Ranma shook his head, scattering his immoral notions, blaming his actor analog’s total lack of morals when it came to girls for offsetting his more prudish male analogs. So long as he was being brutally honest with himself about things in the privacy of his own thoughts, he could admit that he found his male martial artist analogs could be rather awful people sometimes, frequently thoughtless and maybe even somewhat misogynistic when it came to how they treated girls. He didn’t think he was quite so bad when compared to them.

While his male form was very handsome in ‘Ranko’s’ opinion, it would look far too suspicious, be way too difficult to maintain the ruse and cause him numerous problems with his fiancées if his girl form were to declare that there was a romantic relationship going on between them. He shuddered to think how the women in his life would react to that one. It would most likely involve horrific levels of brutality directed at one or both of his aspects. That said, the notion was kind of amusing and even a little arousing as he briefly considered it before eventually abandoning it as a possibility.

Since it was clear to him by now that he was settling on the route that involved picking out a boyfriend for his girl form to use the guy as a shield and unsuspecting experiment assistant, Ranma realized he should probably decide on some criteria for what he was looking for. He gave it a bit of thought for several moments. Ideas started coming to him quickly.

First, the guy should be someone who could take care of at least a modicum of trouble and able to deal with at least one or two punks as Ranko’s ‘protector’ without her needing to get involved in things. However, he also shouldn’t be so strong that his girl form couldn’t physically dominate the guy if necessary. That would let her easily fend off any unwanted touching or groping from him, as well as kissing. Not that he ever actually wanted some guy to kiss or touch his girl form like that, he hastily amended. 

Or did he? Suddenly feeling a bit confused again at his fluctuating penchants, he blushed once more.

Shaking his head, Ranma quickly moved on mentally. As everyone that attended the Imperial Academy received at least some combat training but were all far below him in their fighting ability, that still left plenty of options among the boys for him to choose from. This was a good thing, not wanting to expand his search to the other schools in the area for candidates and add to the complexity of the problem.

Returning to his preferred option, he wasn’t sure how strong a fighter Yumi was, but she seemed to be capable, remembering how her male guise had put his female one into a headlock she couldn’t break out of before passing out, so she was at least a peer. That said, Yumi struck him as a mature, level-headed woman, so he felt comfortable making an exception for her. Since she wasn’t really a teenaged boy, despite how her cursed form looked, he doubted she would ever try anything with his girl form and probably didn’t even like girls that way, like the cursed Shampoo of that other world, and much like how his own cursed analogs had zero interest in guys.

However, if Yumi was willing to allow her male identity to be used as Ranko’s boyfriend, Ranma knew it would be a safe way for him to begin familiarizing himself with what being someone’s girlfriend was like. It would be like practicing for a part in a theater production. They could go out together and do typical dating activities: seeing a movie, going skating, visiting an amusement park, or maybe just eating at some restaurant. It would probably be a bit like how it was on the world where Shampoo had a male curse, although that version of him didn’t see the Amazon as anything but his friend.

Ranma knew that having Yumi assisting him would also make certain milestones in dating much less intimidating for him to explore than if he tried doing them with a real guy: the first date, holding hands, hugging, a boy putting an arm around his girl form’s shoulders. None of those should be any problem, but what about something more advanced, like his girl half’s first kiss? He could only recall a single example of that, courtesy of another world’s Mikado Sanzenin, which prompted a sudden shudder of revulsion to wash over him.

He made a quick mental note to seek out this world’s Mikado and beat him up again, since he was a sleazebag here as well and totally deserved it. The pigtailed scholar then considered doing the brutalizing while in his girl form, which would make it an even more humiliating experience for the slimy womanizer. Since Ryoga didn’t seem to be actively hunting him here, he realized he should probably start seeking out some alternative sparring partners to hone his combat skills on, and the Sanzenin boy seemed like he’d make a rather nicely cathartic punching bag.

Asking Yumi to kiss him when they were both in their cursed forms would probably be pushing the favor though. He knew such a thing should have real feelings behind it to be the most enjoyable, like how it felt for him when he kissed Shampoo the other day. While the cursed woman might be willing to pretend her male identity was the boyfriend of Ranma’s female form to fend off unwanted suitors, the pigtailed scholar knew he shouldn’t fool himself into believing an adult woman like Yumi Kuonji could ever have any feelings for him like that. None of his other crushes ever had.

Wait. Why am I thinking this way? Do I like her or something? She’s just a friend, right?

Ranma had never previously considered Yumi in any of the analyses he had been doing about what he felt for the girls he knew, since the cursed woman was an adult and just a friend. He reasoned it was probably a good idea for him to do so now before asking her for this favor, to make really sure he understood where his feelings were at regarding her. He didn’t want to make a fool of himself, so he began mentally appraising what he knew about her.

Yumi Kuonji was an athletic woman in her mid-thirties who had a Jusenkyo curse the opposite of his own. She was a few centimeters taller than he was, somewhat broad-shouldered for a woman and rangy of limb. But she was also unmistakably feminine with a body built much like how Ukyo’s might look in a few years, her frame a bit heavier with additional bone and muscle. Her face was square-jawed and could be considered mannish by some, not classically beautiful, but it possessed a solid sort of character that was attractive on its own terms. When she spoke, her voice was a mid-range contralto, but he could imagine it dropping even lower when she was angry. She had shoulder-length brown hair usually worn in a sporty ponytail. Her eyes were turquoise and were quite striking and attractive. She also made frequent eye contact when speaking with someone, which indicated intelligence.

His analysis suddenly trailed off at this point. Evaluating her like this had elicited unexpected emotions in him. That she was a little bit taller than he had also intrigued him.

Huh. I guess I do kind of like her that way after all. How about that?

Like other boys, Ranma had experienced the occasional crush on an older woman after puberty began for him, since he was rarely if ever around people his own age until recently. However, his last such infatuation had faded long before his arrival at the Imperial Academy. If Yumi did agree to do this favor for him, Ranma realized he would have to remind himself now and then that it wasn’t a real relationship between them, just Yumi helping him out as his friend, like Shampoo had done on that other world. While they would technically be dating each other, their relationship would be more like social training, nothing more.

He realized he was getting sidetracked at this point and went back to the criteria list he was putting together. For his second standard, the guy should be able to hold up his side of an intelligent conversation. Ranma knew that if he was going to be sacrificing a fair amount of his free time maintaining his secret identity as Ranko Kuonji, he wasn’t going to waste it on someone stupid or boring to be around.

While the guy didn’t need to be a savant like himself, someone Ranko could play Go with and not totally crush each time would be nice. It had been quite a while since he last played against anyone, and his skills were getting rusty. This began narrowing the field for him.

Third, he needed to be a good-hearted sort. Since Ranma was well aware from his own observations that there were plenty of jerks populating his school, finding a nice guy to be Ranko’s boyfriend would probably be the biggest challenge of them all. Of course, if he was genuinely nice, it should also restrain the guy from trying anything lecherous with his girl form, which would be a bonus. This was winnowing down his options to a much more manageable level.

While the guy being handsome or at least somewhat above average in appearance would be a nice additional benefit, Ranma realized he was probably being too picky by this point. He also wondered why he was even considering a boy’s looks at all in his calculations. The guy was just going to be a shield to keep the other boys away and use in an experiment to see what a dating relationship was like from a girl’s perspective. Maybe he would let the guy hold hands with his girl form, and maybe hug her, since it would look funny if they never touched, but that would be it.

How did girls ever figure out who was good dating material? Ranko’s memories were of little help in this area, as she only dated a few times in her life before the download. None of them worked out.

Well, since he hoped to find someone who could play a decent game of Go against him when he was Ranko, the club at the Imperial Academy was probably the best place to start. He recalled briefly considering joining after first arriving on campus, but building the resonator had been more of a priority then. If he had chosen to pursue Go instead, he realized his life would probably be much quieter now, without all the troubles he was dealing with, although he would probably still be getting beaten up by Akane every day. Maybe things were better right now, after all.

Now that he had a better idea what Ranko’s boyfriend should be like, Ranma stepped into the shower stall in his room and turned on the hot water full blast. Standing beneath the steaming spray, his mind kept contemplating Shampoo, Nabiki, Kodachi, Ukyo, Utena, Yumi and even Akane as well as his own girl form. He felt his body responding to his errant thoughts, but he couldn’t seem to stop fantasizing, his lust awakening, picturing them in different sorts of outfits. In the case of Shampoo, he also kept recalling his recent deep kisses with her, which prompted memories of a more intimate nature from his actor analog. Unable to put off his body’s increasing pleas any longer, he took some time to relieve them.

He shuddered when his release finally happened, the sensations intense as it had been a while since he last did this. Still not satisfied, his body kept pleading with him for more. Finding himself still unable to concentrate on anything other than his aroused lust, he did it a second time.

Once finished, he stood quietly for a minute, catching his breath, his palms flat against the wall of the shower as he leaned into the hot water still drenching him. His thoughts were clearer now, and he began to feel a bit guilty about his lecherous fantasies. His cursed analogs were more prudish than he was, rarely if ever indulging themselves in such things, repressing their urges and sublimating such sexual desires into their martial arts training instead.

His deliberations on his sexuality brought to his mind a conversation with his mother shortly after he gained his girl form. He recalled her suggestion to him that he should bed each of his prospective fiancées, to see who was most compatible with him that way. While the thought tempted him, he knew it would be far too dangerous to ever actually follow through on it.

A vivid vision of him beaten into a bloody, mangled hulk for being a womanizing pervert like the sleazy Sanzenin boy flashed across his mind. He was quite certain that the girls he was engaged to would not respond favorably if he ever tried anything like that with them, and Shampoo would doubtless agree with them. His mother’s follow-up suggestion, that he ask the girls about their views on polygamy, only intensified his fears of what they would likely do to him if they ever thought he wanted a harem, perhaps taking turns brutalizing him. He shivered in terror at the potential hostility he would suffer, knowing from his analogs how very scary girls could be when they were really angry, since several of his other selves seemed to have a knack for aggravating females into violent behavior.

Aside from the potential savagery directed at him, Ranma could also easily imagine the hurt look he would see in Kodachi’s eyes should she ever learn of his lustful fantasies about her. Ukyo, raised as a boy for much of her life, was becoming a good friend he valued very much, and he feared losing their budding comradeship if he ever admitted to thinking of her that way sometimes. And as for Nabiki, he fretted that telling her he felt such things for her would give the Tendo girl a means to control him. However, since he kissed Shampoo and felt her respond passionately to him, he didn’t think the Amazon would mind at all to learn he thought of her that way.

His actor analog had encouraged him in a dream to be more aggressive with the girls, but Ranma still wasn’t sure he was ready to take that step. While technically he had experience in such amorous activities acquired from that version of himself, he knew he was still a virgin and had never been with anyone that way. There was also the issue that he would have to pick a girl to be his first partner, and that was a lot of pressure to have to deal with.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, his hand grabbed the handle and twisted it, changing the water temperature to cold, wincing when it started blasting him. The protection of the soap was already long since washed away by now, so the transformation rippled over his body in a single instant. Ranma-chan quickly shampooed her hair and rinsed it clean, wanting to get out of the chilly water as quickly as possible. Grabbing the bar of special soap, she began lathering up her body with it to restore the protection it gave her.

After a few minutes, she stepped from the bath and began briskly drying her skin with a towel before wrapping her body in it when she was done, still shivering a bit. While using the blow dryer on her hair, she began brushing it out to speed drying. Her blue eyes held a distant look, and she was clearly deep in thought about something.

As she finished untangling her tresses, Ranma-chan kept finding her attention drawn to her reflection in the mirror. While continuing to work out the few remaining snarls, she regarded her image in the glass solemnly. Unbound from its usual pigtail, her hair fell loosely, reaching to just below her shoulders. 

She felt wearing it like this framed her face rather pleasingly with its lustrous red mane, her hair having lengthened an inch or two since the school year began several months ago. A haircut was due though, she mused, since it was looking unruly. The thought brought a rueful smile to her face, recalling another world’s Principal Kuno and his fetish for cutting hair.

When she was done with the hairbrush, Ranma-chan set it down on the sink and reached up one hand to stroke her hair, feeling how much softer it was than when she was male. Idly, she began playing with a few stray locks as she kept gazing at herself. It pleased her quite a lot, knowing for a fact how attractive she was from a male viewpoint, recalling the appreciative looks she received, and the masculine parts of her personality readily confirming this. While a portion of her awareness realized she was being narcissistic again, it was a brief vacation from brooding about the many problems that were going on in her life, so she indulged herself.

Looking back at her from within the confines of the mirror was a buxom teenaged beauty possessing a very cute face with clear skin and wide, expressive eyes. Her limbs and shoulders were trimly athletic, clean of line and compactly muscular without detracting one whit from her womanly charms. Her towel covered her torso from the chest down to the upper thighs, wrapped snugly around her. She saw a smile suddenly appear on her face, and it made her reflection look even cuter to her.

Almost shyly, still absently playing with a few locks of her hair with one hand, Ranma-chan reached out towards the image in the mirror with the other, feeling cool glass when her spread fingers finally contacted the surface. She absently noted that while her hand was now smaller, her nails didn’t seem any longer than they were as a boy, just like her hair didn’t change its length. She rested her fingers there for several lingering moments as she leaned in a bit to study her face more closely, slowly turning it to one side and then the other. Her expression shifted to a more thoughtful look.

As had happened to her before whenever she saw herself like this, she was struck with a sense of wonder at how desirable she was, even when she wasn’t wearing any makeup. While Ranko’s memories had given her the knowledge on how to apply such things properly should she ever wish to do so, an occasion needing it had not yet occurred. She didn’t even own any, and then she felt a bit odd, finding herself thinking that she should buy some and try out different looks.

Her gaze slowly dropped to scrutinize the rest of herself. A light blush appeared on her cheeks when her eyes beheld the enticingly full swell of her bosom and the deep cleavage partly covered by the towel snugly wrapped around her body. Her eyes traversed away to regard the taut definition of her shoulders and arms, and she flexed them a bit.

No wonder guys stop and check me out when they see me, she mused. I’m really cute. But if they knew the truth about who I am, that I’m really a guy inside this body, would they still be interested in me? Heh. They probably would, since guys do all their thinking with what’s in their pants.

That thought gave her pause, belatedly realizing that she was thinking more like a girl now than a boy, looking at males as if from the outside. She barely felt any gender dysphoria now. Being a girl seemed normal and ordinary right now.

Ranma-chan knew from her studies of cognitive physiology that the brain was essentially an organic computer, self-programmed through what it experienced and the choices that person made. The memories acquired from those other selves had been reconfiguring her persona as the new information fitted itself wherever it could into her mind. Some aspects had been absorbed quickly, almost immediately, like her martial arts skills and her occasional flashes of macho arrogance.

The memories from Ranko Saotome, an actual girl, had taken a bit longer to integrate. Due to their presence, speaking like a girl and acting with feminine mannerisms when in her female form had been unconsciously natural in her girl form, not mimicking them like her analogs would, quite poorly at first. Her personality had been fully masculine before being cursed, but that was now no longer true as the more hidden parts of Ranko’s identity, her drives and emotional responses, were becoming interwoven into the person that still self-identified as Ranma Saotome.

After some time spent lost in thought on her identity, her hand pulled away from the glass and she released her hold on her hair. Looking down at herself, she tentatively moved both hands to her breasts, pausing at the last moment before taking them in her hands and gripping them lightly. She had felt the urge to do this numerous times before whenever she was alone, a temptation that she finally decided to indulge in and satisfy her curiosity about her girl form.

Ranma-chan felt aroused when she looked up and saw the image in the mirror of her hands holding her breasts combined with the pleasant sensations being generated by simply touching them. Experimentally, she squeezed them gently. An erotic tension began welling up within her as she marveled at the feel, how soft and nice they were to touch, her hands beginning to gently fondle and massage them.

“I’m a guy,” Ranma-chan suddenly muttered, almost breaking the spell she had unintentionally cast upon herself, using what had become her personal mantra whenever she was in this form. But even as she said it, she could tell it no longer had the power it once did. Looking at the gorgeous girl she now was, her previous fears and insecurities about this form seemed irrational.

Lifting her gaze back to her face even as she continued with fondling herself, she noted she was blushing a bit brighter now but could not determine if it was due to embarrassment or excitement. It was likely a bit of both. She started to pull her hands away from her breasts, then immediately stopped herself.

What she was doing felt good, and there was no one else around to see, so why stop? Leaving her hands where they were, she went back to enjoying the experience. Ranko’s memories of doing such things with herself floated across her mind, and the doubts and angst acquired from her cursed analogs faded to background noise within her thoughts.

“I’m a girl,” Ranma-chan whispered to herself, no longer able to deny the truthfulness of that statement in the privacy of her mind. She felt an unexpected sense of relief at just merely uttering the words. After all, unlike her male analogs who dealt with having their own Jusenkyo curses, she also possessed a lifetime of experiences to match this shape.

Still pondering her identity as she continued touching herself, she suddenly couldn’t recall why being female had ever seemed dreadful. It was no more wrong than her male form was. Having a female body was a part of her life now. It seemed somehow unhealthy to keep fighting against it, to continue resisting and suppressing the inner changes caused by having her female analog’s memories.

Ranma-chan closed her eyes and slowly took a deep breath, then let it out with equal slowness. When she opened them, she saw a serious look on her face. It was time to truly begin accepting this part of herself and learning who Ranma Saotome was now. But she hesitated to take the next step and needed a few moments to collect herself.

“Here goes,” she finally whispered.

Swiftly unwrapping the towel from around her torso and tossing it aside, she stood naked before the mirror, dropping her hands to rest them on her hips and regarding her reflection. Her body barely moved except for the steady rise and fall of her chest with each breath as her eyes began studying her nude form, feeling a bit aroused looking at herself frankly like this. Less hesitantly this time, she raised one hand back up to her chest and began tentatively fondling one breast, seeing the look on her face begin shifting to a more lustful one.

Observing that, Ranma-chan blushed and quickly put her hand back down at her side, suddenly feeling very self-conscious. The prudishness of her other selves and her gender dysphoria had held her back from such explorations before, but she no longer seemed to have that resistance now, replaced by Ranko’s feminine modesty. It was a strange feeling, to be tempted by her own body.

“I-I should get dressed and go train,” she whispered. She turned and headed out of the bathroom, pausing once to look back at herself in the mirror. Shaking her head, she went to get dressed.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rolling one shoulder slowly to work out a slight kink, Yumi began stripping off her clothing as she stood outside the bathing area of her home. She needed to clean up before opening for the lunch crowd, since Mondays could often be hectic. The smell of diesel exhaust was on her, having been caught in a belch of black smoke from a truck after getting off the train from downtown. As she was about to remove the sarashi wrapped around her chest after taking off her okonomiyaki seller’s jacket, she saw herself in the mirror, and an oddity in the reflection caught her attention.

Something seemed different about her, but it wasn’t an obvious thing. She went over closer, trying to figure out what it was. When she could see her face more clearly, she suddenly realized what had changed. Her features looked... younger.

Turning her head from side to side slowly in front of the mirror, she could immediately tell that her face wasn’t much different. It still had the same square-jawed look it always did, attractive but almost mannish (if someone was suicidal enough to make that comment to her face). Peeling the bandage away from her nose, she could tell from the lack of pain and bruising that it was apparently no longer broken, but there remained a very slight indentation on the bridge from an older break that didn’t get treated as skillfully as her latest injury had been. She thought it gave her a faintly thuggish look, but she knew it made her male form appear more badass, since it was a bit more pronounced when she was him.

Her skin was smoother, a bit less weathered and without a single age line that she could see. Her jowls were also firmer. If she had to guess, she appeared ten, maybe even fifteen years younger now. She realized with a start that she could easily pass for Ukyo’s adult, older sister now instead of her thirty-something aunt.

How could this have happened? When did it happen? No one had commented on her appearance during the meeting in Fuyutsuki’s office, nor did Sakura afterwards. The only time she could recall ever changing age like this before was due to eating a strange mushroom once years ago, turning her from a teenager into a child. Fortunately, the effects were later countered by another mushroom with a longer stem.

Removing her sarashi, she inspected her bare torso. The same youthening effect could be seen there. The skin on her body now possessed the same girlish suppleness her face did. Her breasts were unchanged in their size, ample enough to more than offset the rather mannish width of her shoulders, but they were firmer now and riding somewhat higher on her chest. She was a little startled to discover that her deep stab wound appeared fully healed now, only a faint scar remaining.

Turning around, she flexed her shoulders and arms, noting the firmness of her body, its taut definition, without a single sag she could see anywhere. While she had worked hard to maintain her physique during her life, not wishing to grow flabby, age had been slowly taking its inevitable toll on her. Somehow, she was now restored to her physical prime.

After stripping off the rest of her clothing and removing the yellow ribbon holding her ponytail in place, she grabbed a washcloth from the stack, still wondering what was going on with her. Holding it at her side, she slid open the door and walked in. The room was lit, so she at first assumed Ukyo must have forgotten and left it on before leaving for school.

Ranma, returned to his male form after the trip over from the Arena, was just standing up from the bathtub when she came in, having not heard her getting undressed outside. The two of them stared at each other in shock for several long moments before either one moved. Yumi at first tried covering herself with the small towel before finally sprinting back into the other room and slamming the door shut, her heart pounding in her chest as she leaned back against it. Ranma felt totally mortified that such a thing had just happened, that she had seen everything of his and he hers, echoing events on other worlds.

“S-SORRY!” Yumi quickly shouted at him through the open door. Her face was bright red, and she struggled to stop thinking about what she had just seen of him.

“S-SORRY!” Ranma answered in a shout at almost the same moment, his face bright red as well. He was trying not to think about the eyeful of Yumi’s body he had just received, his eidetic memory forever recording it. In the back of his mind, a small part of him was amazed at how young-looking she was, then he mentally slapped himself for thinking such a thing.

A little while later, the two of them were seated at the chabudai-style table in Yumi’s home over her restaurant. Steaming cups of tea sat untouched in front of them. Neither of them could seem to look at the other, both still blushing a little.

Ranma broke the silence first. “Uh, thank you for not hitting me.”

Yumi chuckled at that comment. Unconsciously, her hand began moving closer to Ranma’s, almost reaching out to hold it reassuringly, but then she backed away at the last moment when she realized what she was doing. She picked up her teacup and sipped from it instead.

“I-it’s okay. I-I guess we both got a pretty good look at each other, huh?” She blushed again, wondering why she had made such a stupid comment, mentally smacking herself. “Uh, th-things like that happened to me a lot when I was younger, so I totally understand it was just an accident.”

Ranma nodded, looking down. “Thank you for understanding.”

The two of them went back to sitting in awkward silence. Ranma took a sip of his tea, looking down at the table. He felt nervous, mirroring Yumi’s mood. Both were feeling a pleasant tingling in each other’s presence, but the awkwardness they felt mostly masked it.

“Uh, I forgot that you’d be coming over for training today,” Yumi said after another sip or two of her tea.

Ranma chuckled nervously. “Y-yeah. Lee-sensei told me he had to pick someone up from the airport, that he has a surprise for me.”

“Surprises can be good,” Yumi said, looking up and meeting Ranma’s gaze briefly before both blushed again and hastily looked down, and she mentally smacked herself some more. Her uncomfortable feelings from earlier came rushing back, and she sipped her tea again.

Ranma flexed his right hand and briefly traced some simple kanji on the table’s surface, not even looking at what he was writing. He knew he didn’t dare say anything about her more youthful appearance, certain that it would come out all wrong and earn him a brutal beating at her hands. Then he remembered what he wanted to ask her and realized if he didn’t say something now, he’d probably lose his nerve completely after what had happened between them in the bathroom. He took a deep breath and blew it out through his pursed lips.

“Uh, can I ask you something, Yumi?” he said, looking back up at her again. “It’s kind of personal. Uh, a favor really.”

Yumi nodded, hoping to talk about anything other than what had just happened a few minutes ago in her bathroom. “S-sure, Ranma. Ask away.”

“I’ve got this problem with my girl side, and I was hoping you could help me. But I’ll understand if you don’t think you can.” He put his hand on his teacup but did not pick it up.

“Sounds serious.” She took a sip of her tea, feeling her blush dying down a bit. Her heart rate maintained its heightened pace.

“Well, after this thing with Shampoo is over with, I’m going to be coming back to the Imperial Academy. And, uh, I imagine my girl form’s going to be starting school there too.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, setting her cup down. “Fuyutsuki-san told me you passed the exam. So, what’s the problem?”

Ranma traced a few more simple kanji characters with his finger and somehow managed to maintain eye contact with her. “Uh, well, it’s like this... IneedtofindRankoaboyfriend.” The last part came out in a rush.

Yumi’s elbow slipped off the table, and she almost hit her jaw on it. “E-excuse me?”

“I-I’ve been thinking about it a bit,” he stammered. “I know guys are probably going to start bothering me a lot when I’m a girl.”

“Y-yeah, I-I’d imagine so.” She felt her throat getting tight. What was he going to ask her to do?

“W-well, would you do me the favor of, uh, well, being Ranko’s boyfriend? Your guy side, I mean.” Ranma blushed again. “I-it would help me out a lot.” He paused. “I mean, you’re the only one I know who could understand what this is like for me.”

Yumi sat stunned, blinking occasionally as she took this in, what he just said. She felt her foolish heart suddenly seem to seize control of her mouth after a few moments of awkwardness and said while nodding, “Y-yeah! Sure! Uh, n-no problem, Ranma.”

The pigtailed scholar experienced a feeling of relief flowing through him, and he let out the breath he had been unknowingly holding while waiting for her answer. He placed his hands flat on the table and bowed to her. “Thank you!”

The smile of appreciation he gave her when his head came back up made Yumi’s heart flutter in her chest, and her blush quickly returned. “I-I can show up now and then at your school to check up on your girl form or something,” she said. “Uh, but won’t it look a bit funny? ‘Yu’ is her brother according to the family registry.”

“I’m adopted,” Ranma replied quickly. “Er, I mean, she’s adopted. That would also explain why Ranko doesn’t look anything like you.”

“Y-yeah, that could work.” Yumi looked thoughtful. She then felt her awkwardness return as she said, “W-we’ll have to act like a couple in public, I guess.”

Ranma nodded, feeling an answering self-consciousness, but it was reduced by the relief that Yumi was going to help him out like this. “Oh, th-that’s fine. If it’s okay with you, I just figured we could do some dating type stuff for show. M-maybe hold hands when we’re together or something. We’ll also need to talk and work on our history together, so we don’t catch each other up if anyone asks.”

Yumi nodded back, trying hard not to think about holding hands with Ranma, her hand resting on the table not far from his. She fought down her feelings, telling her foolish heart that this was just for pretend, that he didn’t think of her like that. They were just friends. But her foolish heart answered that it would be nice to spend time with him like that, even if she was going to be in her male form and he in his female one.

Now that her initial shock at his unexpected request was fading, she belatedly realized that there was something she needed to discuss with him. She took a sip of her tea, then poured herself some more. She met his gaze.

“Uh, Ranma, there’s something I need to talk to you about. It’s about Ukyo.”

“Is she in trouble?” He met Yumi’s gaze, concerned for his friend.

“Well, no, not quite. Not exactly.” She took a breath. “Ukyo has another arranged marriage, one that was made when she was a child. She only found out about it recently, after your family already made a contract with hers.”

“What?!” Ranma sputtered.

Yumi put one hand behind her head and looked uncomfortable. “Yeah, it was all arranged by our clan’s elder, Genji Kuonji, my grandfather and Ukyo’s great-grandfather.”

Ranma’s gaze became flat. “I’m going to take a wild guess that it’s Ryoga Hibiki.”

“Huh, that’s a really good guess,” she said with a nod. “He didn’t know about it either. I don’t know if anyone’s even told him yet.”

Ranma sighed. “She can’t marry both of us.” He knew that much about the law.

“Yeah, that’s true.” Yumi sipped her tea, feeling her blush return a little as an idea suddenly occurred to her, spurred by Ranma’s request of her to be his girl form’s boyfriend. She set down her cup. “Do you trust me, Ranma?”

He nodded. “Of course. I’m trusting you with my girl half, aren’t I?”

An image of the redhead floated across Yumi’s thoughts. She smiled at the audacity of his scheme, one reminding her of her own youthful escapades. It promised to be a lot of fun though. She hoped spending time with him in a pretend relationship with his girl side would show her foolish heart if they really were meant for each other or not.

“I have a solution for Ukyo’s problem I can employ as a Kuonji. I think it will satisfy honor for everyone.”

Ranma looked impressed. Only one of his selves had found such a way to deal with such conflicting engagement promises, by asking Ukyo to give up on the engagement and her being willing to do it. He assumed that Yumi was planning to do something like this on his behalf, which made sense as it was a Kuonji family matter.

“You do whatever it takes, Yumi. I trust you.” He smiled at her.

She nodded and sipped her tea. When her cup was empty, she stood up. The ‘closed’ sign was on the front door downstairs, so no one would disturb them. She could miss one day of business. This was more important.

“Let’s begin today’s training, Ranma,” she said. “But turn back into your girl form first. It will be much easier to teach you about being a kunoichi if you are female.”

Realizing she still smelled of diesel exhaust, Yumi sighed, but her heart felt lighter in her chest. Today was proving to be an interesting day, and the future seemed to shine brightly before her now.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s been a long time since I last wrote, but inspiration has returned and I have the next several chapters in various stages of writing. I hope you liked this one.


To be continued...


-------------- next part --------------
An HTML attachment was scrubbed...
URL: <http://www.chez-vrolet.net/pipermail/ffml/attachments/20171013/d7a27ccb/attachment.html>