Ranma tested the water in the furo and grimaced that it had cooled too much to change back. It was an older house so the shower couldn't do hot water either. He scampered up to the guest room and dug through his bag, hoping something was dry. He had several silk shirts that he'd acquired in Shanghai before they swam ov—oh and of course they were all wet still. Since they hadn't unpacked anything, everything in their bags that wasn't waterproofed was soaked.

  In desperation he started looking for his gi, hoping it'd be sealed up in plastic or something. Unfortunately, he'd worn it for a week and a half straight while roughing it in China, and that was after acquiring his curse. Plus it had also gotten soaked on the swim from China and the rain earlier today. Frankly he probably shouldn't wear it ever again. Would Mrs. Tendo accept a tank top and boxers? He pulled out a few pairs which were, like everything else, even more damp than the clothes he was wearing.

  Naoki gently rapped on the door frame again as Ranma started hyping himself up to just go in his red, sleeveless tangzhuang. "Still nothing to wear?" he asked flatly. Ranma sized him up, trying to determine if Naoki saw him as a threat or some sort of freak. While he was much less warm than earlier he was no less polite. "Offer still stands on loaning you what we can scrounge up in my room. Though…" his gaze lingered on Ranma's bust for a moment. The pigtailed martial artist almost raised his arms up to cover himself but remembered that he didn't have to do that because he wasn't actually a girl.

  I can't accept this, right? Ranma asked himself. He knows I'm a guy now, it'd be weird of me to wear girl clothes. Though I guess right now I am a girl, so it's not weird, right? They're probably the only thing in the house that'll fit me, and Mrs. Tendo asked for me to change into something dry and clean. If this is the only thing I can wear, that's my only option, right? Naoki seems like a nice guy, this probably isn't some sort of prank.

  Naoki continued, "Do you want a binder? I imagine you don't want wanna wear girl clothes."

  How Naoki knew what he was thinking astounded Ranma, but he was absolutely right. Though he did have one question.

  "What's a binder?"

  The middle Tendo son wasn't surprised by his ignorance. "I've got some friends who want a bit more compression than normal athletic supporters can manage." Naoki squeezed an imaginary bust on his own chest. He didn't elaborate on why he kept them at his place, he got the sense that the Saotome kid would react poorly to knowing that the couple of boys he knew with boobs would be shamed for wearing the figure-flattening garments.

  After what seeemed like minutes but was only a couple of seconds Ranma simply responded, "…Okay."

  Naoki clapped his hands and got a little bit of that twinkle back in his eyes from earlier. "Great, follow me!"

  All three Tendo sons' rooms were right next to each other on the second floor, and each was labeled with their occupant's name. Naoki's name in hiragana was engraved on a simple blue plank, the romaji characters brushed on underneath in a stylish script. Inside, his room was packed. His twin bed was pushed up just under the window and surrounded by two wardrobes. A full-length mirror hung on one of the doors. Yoga mats in a vivid array of colors were pushed under the bed. A small bookshelf sat on top of one of two dressers, the other sported a collection of tackle boxes which really stood out.

  Naoki opened up a few drawers and started pulling out clothes. Once he'd made a pile on the bed he took out a key and unlocked one of the wardrobes, then opened up a little door set in the bottom. Ranma realized it was a secret compartment. On the few occasions he and his dad needed to resort to burglary they'd find something like that every now and then. Usually it was a good place to find cash, but Naoki's seemed to be full of more clothes.

  He took out what looked like a few black tank tops and tape or gauze or something, Ranma wasn't sure, and laid them on top of the clothes pile. "Okay, you've only been doing this for two weeks, right?" he asked while waving his hands in a curvy motion. "I've had the honor of helping some of my friends who are…unhappy with their bodies shape them into a more natural-feeling state."

  Pivoting so his profile was facing Ranma, he once again put his hands in front of his chest then pushed the imaginary boobs down. "Best way to do that is simple compression. If you find yourself being stuck in that body for long periods I think knowing how to do this will make you feel better."

  The number of times he'd comforted a young boy going through an unwanted puberty had left him with a sense of professional pride. He swore to treat Ranma's curse like an unorthodox version of that. Ranma's masculinity would be respected no matter what he looked like. Teaching Ranma how to feel like a boy even when his body disagreed with him would take longer than simply heating up a kettle but Naoki knew it wouldn't always be so simple.

  The currently red-or-pink-haired martial artist found it hard to respond to Naoki's aura of determination. He'd gone into full sensei mode and Ranma couldn't help but admire him. He was out of his element but the middle Tendo son radiated confidence. With wide eyes he clapped his hands together, excitedly nodded, and exclaimed, "Thank you Naoki-sensei! You'll find that I am an excellent student."

  With a grin, Naoki gestured to the garments on top of the pile. "Okay, quick rundown. We've got your basic sarashi," he held up the bolt of white cloth. "Easiest to get on 'cause you don't have to futz with it but not as effective as a proper binder." He held up the two tank tops, which Ranma realized were very small. "Two options for you here. Don't worry about getting a completely flat chest. I don't want you to get upset, but outside of surgery that's not an option for you."

  Ranma gulped. He hoped he wouldn't have to get surgery at all, for any reason. Naoki's look was serious but reassuring. There wasn't any judgement, just experience. He felt his ears heating up, probably out of residual embarrassment.

  The lesson continued. "The other thing to keep in mind is that you cannot wear either of these all day. For dinner that'll be fine, we can get some hot water for you afterward. If you're gonna go to school or work or something and you end up getting splashed? Binding is too intense to be a long-term solution. You're not gonna be able to fight very effectively while doing it and you could be looking at long-term issues like clotting if you do it too often." Naoki realized he'd probably have to talk to Katsumi to help come up with some medical solutions for Ranma. Like a thermos of hot water, maybe? He could carry that around with him all day.

  His student nodded. "Sounds like I want the sarashi then." Naoki didn't immediately agree, instead he made a noncommittal grunt.

  "Any amount of binding is going to present the same issues given enough time. And it's no more helpful in a fight: the sarashi might even fall off." He steeled himself for the next step. "If you know you're gonna be in a fight in your current form, you should consider athletic supporters. They don't compress so much as secure. Every martial artist who has to deal with boobs will be wearing one. I imagine you weren't super comfortable during your spar with baby brother, right?" This was where Naoki had to be careful. He'd avoided saying the word "bra" but he needed to address this.

  Fortunately, Ranma was enraptured. He'd completely adopted the poise and countenance of a dutiful student, committing everything Naoki-sensei was telling him to memory. And he was right, not just about the fight with Akio. In the two short weeks since he'd been cursed, any time he'd done any sort of physical activity while in spring form his chest made sure he felt it. Naoki was telling him that there was relief, that he didn't have to be afraid of his combat prowess being affected.

  That revelation spread through his mind and for the first time in two weeks he felt free. Like he was in control of his own body, that the curse wasn't as dire as he'd thought. He wondered why he'd never heard of an athletic supporter before but he'd ask his dad about it later.

  Beaming, his aura burning with newfound confidence, he matched Naoki's sharklike grin with his own. "Hell no, sensei! These things suck to fight with. Thank you for the lesson!"

  "Excellent. Pick one of the bindings, I'll help you get it on properly, and then we need to get you in some clothes." Naoki didn't let him see the sheer sense of relief he felt. He was honestly worried the feral child would punch him in the arm or something for just suggesting he wear a bra, and he couldn't take a hit near as well as Akio.

  Ranma ended up picking the sarashi. He wanted to start practicing getting it on. As he slipped off his tangzhuang he realized that Naoki wasn't reacting to his bare chest like his brothers did, despite paying close attention to it. Ranma did blush a bit being looked at, but he realized that he was already comfortable with Naoki-sensei.

  His trust proved to be well-placed when Naoki held up a hand for him to stop. "You're making it too tight, that's gonna give you trouble. Do you mind if I help? I will have to touch you."

  "Uh…" Ranma stuttered. The only people who'd touched him there so far, including Naoki's mother who at least did it through his shirt, hadn't really bothered to ask or make sure he was comfortable with it. The closest he'd ever gotten to giving consent was when he got into a duel with someone. Naoki saw his discomfort and shook his head.

  "No worries, I'm not gonna do anything you're not comfortable with. Undo a couple of loops then go again. Breathe in and hold it while you're doing it: you don't want to exhale first because it'll mean it's too tight to allow your chest to expand but you also don't want to, like, puff yourself out. Maintain a firm core, a neutral stance." He could tell he was nailing it with the martial arts comparisons.

  Ranma followed his instructions and grinned as his teacher nodded in approval. He'd trained under a lot of different teachers over the years, and Naoki was just as good as the best. Without touching him, Naoki started explaining how to tie it off at the end but Ranma interrupted him. "Thank you sensei, but can you do it for me?" It made him feel vulnerable and anxious, not just letting another man touch him but asking him to, but he was a visual learner and he really did feel safe.

  Naoki nodded proudly as he secured the band. "There you go, how's that feel?"

  "Fantastic! I see what you mean about breathing. It's tighter than anything I've ever worn but I love how…compact I feel!" He started bouncing lightly on his feet and Naoki saw relief wash over him.

  He made for the wardrobe mirror but Naoki stopped him. "Nope! Quick second lesson: don't look in the mirror until you're finished and only for minor adjustments. The sarashi is the least restrictive of our options so you've still got a lot going on up there. We're gonna fix that with the right silhouette."

  Gesturing at the pile of clothes, he continued, "I picked out some of my older stuff that should work with your height. Don't worry, I've known clothes for a long time. My recommendation is something simple…" He picked out a simple black t-shirt and a pair of jeans that he hadn't worn since 1985. As Ranma started pulling them on Naoki hung up a few jackets to compare.

  When he looked back, Ranma was frustratedly trying to pull the jeans over his hips. The redness on his face made it clear that he was ready to tear something.

  "Okay, hey, look at me," he said with a snap. Once Ranma was looking him in the eye he resumed. "Not for you. Don't worry about that, finding the right clothes is like…testing your opponent's defenses. Don't try to force it when you know it's just gonna get parried, right?"

  "Yes sensei," Ranma replied, slipping the jeans back off. Naoki got a look at his yellow boxers peeking out from under the black t-shirt, and for a minute the illusion was completely wrong: Ranma looked like a girl wearing her boyfriend's clothes.

  Dispelling that image Naoki thought through their options. Glancing at the clock, it had been almost ten minutes since his mother had dismissed them. She'd be mad if they were much later. He reminded himself this moment was about Ranma's comfort, not style. "Okay, we don't have time to try a lot out so we're gonna break out the sweatpants."

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  He retrieved a gray set that had been too big for him when he was 14 and tossed them to Ranma. "Tie them up around your waist and don't tuck in your shirt. Then…" he grabbed a navy flannel button-up shirt. "Put this on, don't button it up, and I'll help you roll up your sleeves."

  A minute later Naoki stood back and admired his work. Despite being in his spring form, Ranma looked like a boy just a couple of years younger than he actually was. The button-up and t-shirt obliterated his curves, obscured his boobs, and gave him the shape of a plank of wood. Since nobody could see the tie for the sweat pants they even resembled the black gi pants Ranma had been wearing when they arrived.

  With a nod, Naoki gave him permission to look at himself.

  As Ranma processed what he saw in the mirror, he felt a sense of control return to him that he was worried Jusenkyo had completely taken away. Yes he was still short. Yes his hair had changed color. Yes his face was round and his features were softer, and that all made him feel a tingle of pride, but most importantly: he felt in control of his own body. Naoki gave him in fifteen minutes what sixteen years had stolen from him.

  Naoki-sensei crossed his arms and beamed at his pupil. "Great job, man. Now let's get to dinner before mama skins both of us alive."

  Hana let out an audible gasp when Ranma entered the room, closely followed by Naoki. She'd been seconds from sending one of his brothers to check on them, and would have earlier if he hadn't given her one of his signature smirks before setting out to help the younger Saotome. Katsumi, Akio, and Genma's eyes all went wide. Ranma couldn't help but notice his father had a big smile on his face.

  To Genma's eyes, Ranma had reclaimed the energy he'd seen his son lose two weeks ago. He didn't know anything about fashion but he saw a fire in Ranma's eyes he was worried he'd never see again. When Ranma wasn't looking, he caught Naoki's eyes and mouthed "Thank you" to recognize the Tendo boy's accomplishment.

  Naoki sighed contentedly as he sat down at the tatami. This is why I do it, he thought. Now that he was out of sensei mode though, he looked over his student and newfound creation and realized the boy was awfully cute. Big, muscular guys didn't appeal to him too much, they reminded him of his brothers and dad, but Ranma was wiry and flexible. He realized he could feel heat rising under his cheeks so he took a deep drink of water before they began to eat.

  Akio found himself jealous of the moment Naoki had shared with Ranma. Sure, he'd gotten a good spar in with him earlier, but Ranma seemed so much happier after his time with Naoki than with his time with Akio. Naoki already had plenty of friends, he didn't need to steal his too! He made a mental note to offer sleeping clothes to Ranma after dinner. Even if the currently-red-or-pink-haired martial artist had some dry boxers he'd hopefully appreciate the gesture.

  After all the stress of the day, Ranma was looking forward to eating. Breakfast had been the meager leftovers he and his dad had on them, lunch hadn't happened at all, and dinner had been delayed thanks to the Saotomes' sudden arrival and the revelation of their curses. Despite his hunger though, the food was disappointingly bland. On the road he and his old man had to learn how to cook for themselves and he was proud of that skill. He'd made meals way better than this with barely anything like the proper equipment or fresh ingredients, these people had no excuse.

  "I work for a local doctor who might have some insight on what's happening to you," Katsumi said out of the blue. "He's got a doctorate from a credible institution, but his approach is hollistic. In the past I've been arrogant enough to question some of his decisions but after tonight I'm grateful for the breadth of his knowledge."

  Ranma's father glanced at Hana, then Ranma. "Thank you for the offer Katsumi, though I worry that visiting a medical professional will lead to Ranma or me getting put in a lab somewhere."

  Katsumi shook his head. "Dr. Tofu runs a private practice and mostly serves as a family doctor to the community." Despite the fact that he was trying to assure the Saotomes that the doctor was trustworthy, there was a hint of irritation in his voice. "In this instance, I believe that will prove very useful. But you have my word that your conditions will remain strictly confidential."

  Hana agreed with Katsumi. "Dr. Tofu is our long-time family doctor and has proven to be trustworthy when it comes to matters of discretion." She said with a quick glance at Naoki.

  "He's also an accomplished martial artist," Akio interjected.

  Ranma scoffed, "Full-time doctor and a martial artist? That sounds ridiculous."

  But Genma was intrigued. "No, Ranma, it's tradition. Many of the martial techniques humanity has developed over the years came about as the result of thorough study of the human body. Any technique that takes advantage of pressure points, for instance." Genma demonstrated his point by quickly jabbing Akio's wrist with an outstretched finger, causing the boy's fingers to spasm and fling his chicken karaage onto Ranma's plate.

  Akio was about to protest that he'd been manhandled by Mr. Saotome like that, but through the haze of discomfort and anger he heard a sound that instantly defused his violent intent.

  Ranma giggled. It was quick but honest and vulnerable. Akio saw her…his face and the unguarded amusement shhhh—he was feeling. And it was just one piece of chicken after all. Getting to hear that melodic sound was worth it.

  Genma did feel a little bad for essentially attacking Akio, but he did want to get help for the boy and making sure he was excited about the doctor was an important part of the process.

  "I guess that makes sense," Ranma admitted as he tossed the stolen bite into his mouth, giving Akio a smug wink in the process. He indulged in petty satisfaction as the other boy blushed and looked away in shame, failing to notice the smirk on his lips.

  "Please don't attack my children just to make a point," Hana deadpanned. "Akio is right though, Dr. Tofu has had martial training. And I don't want you to stress too much about leaving right away. Take a few days to review your plans."

  Only Genma seemed unsurprised by Mrs. Tendo's magnanimity. "Mother, that seems very generous," Katsumi interrupted, much to Hana's frustration. "Are we really going to eat out every night they're here? None of us can spare the time to help you cook enough for everyone."

  Hana was about to reprimand her son for such talk in front of their guests, but Ranma outdid his rudeness. "Sounds good to me, dad and me made better stuff than this on the road all the time."

  Genma pinched the bridge of his nose and scowled at his son for his impropriety. Hana looked scandalized. The boys, however, locked eyes on Ranma and said, practically in unison, "You can cook?!"

  Hunger radiated from the Tendo sons, he hadn't expected such an…enthusiastic response. "I…uh…of course! It's a basic life skill! Especially when you don't know where your next meal is gonna come from. Dad and I cooked almost all the time."

  The Tendo matriarch's eyes were twitching that her sons hadn't come to her defense. It wasn't easy cooking for three boys who were always busy! "My own sons! Betrayal!" she wailed, laying it on thick. It worked though, and they leapt to her side.

  "I've been working extra hours at Dr. Tofu's! I haven't even been able to get home before it's time for dinner!" Katsumi exclaimed with tears streaming down from his glasses.

  "I'm very socially active!" Naoki cried while massaging her shoulders.

  "I will literally make everything worse!" Akio wept as he delivered her a cold towel.

  And now it was time for the strike. Hana saw that Ranma was off-balance after her family's display and unsure of how to respond. She set him up for the final blow: "Well, Ranma, since you and your father will be staying with us for a few days, I appreciate that you've volunteered to help us make proper, home-cooked meals."

  Ranma felt the anger rising behind his eyes, ready to unleash on this harpy who couldn't even cook. "No way! I'm not gonna be your stupid kitchen accessory or feed your bratty kids." He realized that said 'brats' were now staring daggers at him, though Hana remained calm and delivered the fatal blow.

  "Oh, you're probably right young man," she began, keeping the exaggerated regal voice. "While I'm sure you know how to prepare a small, rustic meal for yourself and your father, a proper meal for six people is doubtless beyond the folksy methods you've picked up on your travels."

  Genma knew his son. Ranma was prideful, arrogant, vain, and despite having a strong appetite could be specific about what he ate. There was no way he could stop what was coming, so he just sighed and took another bite of rice.

  "Excuse me!? I once prepared a five course meal for an entire hungry village after personally killing the giant boar that was menacing its fields!" The Tendo boys blinked, not sure if he was telling the truth.

  Genma got a far-off look in his eye and grinned. "I mean technically we both killed it," he mumbled to himself.

  "Your fancy kitchen and fresh ingredients are hardly a challenge for a martial arts master chef like me!" Ranma crossed his arms and glared at their host defiantly.

  Hana put up her hands in 'surrender'. "So be it! While you're staying here you'll make dinner, I could not imagine my cooking meeting the standards of one so skilled."

  After a moment to process what just happened, Ranma opened and closed his mouth wordlessly several times. He was about to get angry again when he felt his dad's hand on his forearm. The older Saotome was shaking his head, a gesture that Ranma knew meant "She's beaten you son, a true martial artist accepts defeat with dignity."

  The rest of dinner passed without incident, partially because Ranma learned to keep his mouth shut. He and his father retired to the guest room and started unpacking their bags. "Gonna need to handle the laundry tomorrow. It's a school day so hopefully it'll be just us and Mrs. Tendo," Genma explained. Ranma didn't answer.

  Akio rapped his knuckles on the open door frame. In his hand he held a steaming kettle. "Hi Ranma, sorry we didn't have time to get this ready for you before dinner." Ranma took it and sighed, which is when Akio deployed the second part of his plan. "And do you have anything to sleep in? 'cause if not I can lend you something. Naoki is very particular about his sleep clothes." A little bit of a white lie, but Akio didn't want to put the image of his older brother wearing only briefs in Ranma's mind.

  "Oh, that'd be nice, thank you." Ranma graciously accepted the offer and they headed to Akio's room. The door was labeled, like Naoki's, with a wood cutout of the sun engraved with the romaji of his name. Inside was a normal boy's room: a stereo with a stack of CDs and cassettes scattered around it occupied a writing desk under the window, twin bed against the wall hastily made with blue spread, free weights, bookshelves full of literature including manga, Western comic books, non-fiction, and poetry. Trophies from various events were arranged on a floating shelf opposite the door. Ranma saw kendo, archery, and track and field and was impressed.

  Three things caught Ranma's attention however: stuffed animals. A tiger, a bear with a bib, and a…gremlin? Some sort of green thing with big ears and a brown cloak. Without realizing it, Ranma had picked up the tiger and was staring at it.

  "Here you go Ranma," Akio's voice snapped him back to the present. The Tendo boy smiled at him, offering a pair of boxers and shorts. "That's Tora-Tora," he gestured to the tiger. "Dad got him for me at the zoo when I was, like, 5?"

  Ranma took the clothes and put Tora-Tora back on the shelf, but kept looking at it. "He reminded me of one I used to have," Ranma said wistfully.

  Akio really wished he hadn't invited Ranma to his room in girl form. The way "she" was standing there looking softly at his toys, barest hint of a blush on her cheeks, and those big, sad eyes set his soul aflame and he had to push back the masculine urge to wrap the smaller boy up in his arms and squeeze. "That's cool! Katsumi told me I should get rid of them once because they're for kids. I think he's just jealous 'cause he regrets getting rid of his. Did you have to get rid of yours because you went on that trip to China?"

  "Something like that," Ranma smirked, reminisicing.

  He'd "scavenged" a little black piglet two months into their trip. It had a bright blue bow around its neck and something about the button eyes grabbed his attention. Without thinking he pocketed it and snuck it into his bag.

  For weeks Ranma hid it from his father, who back then was always droning on and on about being "manly," whatever that meant, and thought the old man wouldn't approve. But one evening, during dinner around a campfire, Genma brought it out of his bag. Ranma froze, staring at it wordlessly, already wincing in anticipation of his father's disapproval.

  None came. Genma examined it without comment. "What's his name?" he'd asked, softly but earnestly. "P…P-chan? H-her name's P-chan." Ranma stuttered, which he swore brought a tear to his dad's eyes. The older man looked back at the fire for a moment, then back at the doll. An honest chuckle escaped his lips. "Heh. Like the English word for pig. That's clever."

  A pregnant silence passed between them. Genma looked back at him and smiled as he handed P-chan back. "You're a clever kid, Ranma. You seem to like the little gal, so take good care of her. Maybe I'll get you a real pig one day," he said while standing, letting out an exaggerated groan as he stretched out his arms. "You get to bed, I'll clean up tonight," he said while collecting the dishes.

  Ranma fell asleep tightly hugging his toy, tears streaming down his face, and with the biggest smile he'd ever had.

  When Akio saw the wetness forming in the corner of Ranma's eyes, he almost gave in to the urge. Almost. Ranma was skittish and Naoki once told him that kids who'd been in a bad situation sometimes needed a little space. So instead of wrapping her up Akio cleared his throat, stretched, and faked a yawn.

  "Sorry to hear that. But I've got to do some homework before school tomorrow and I'm sure you gotta finish getting unpacked," he lightly laid a hand on Ranma's shoulder and started guiding him to his door.

  Ranma flinched a little as he was shocked out of his memories but took the hint, making sure to leave Tora-Tora with Akio.

  After a light application of hot water in the bathroom, Ranma returned his dinner clothes to Naoki. The middle son opened the door, saw Ranma in Akio's over-sized tank top and boxers and had to force himself to stare at a point between Ranma's eyes instead of directly, because he couldn't look at those beautiful baby blues without blushing either. Much like his younger brother he quickly thanked and dismissed Ranma, also citing schoolwork and the need for calm.

  So Ranma found himself back in the guest room with his dad who'd taken their dirty clothes to the laundry.

  "Ranma, I need to talk to you," Genma began once the door was closed. His voice was calm but serious.

  "Oh my gods, what? Every interaction since we got here has been such a huge deal, can we not just go to sleep?" He knew he was being a pain, but he was also exhausted after everything that had happened during the day.

  Despite the apparent seriousness of the talk, Genma chuckled. "And I'm sorry to make one more fuss, but it's important. Mrs. Tendo has invited us to stay indefinitely."

  Ranma dropped his mostly-empty bag in surprise. "Uh…that's a big deal. What's the catch?"

  His father shook his head. "No catch. While she didn't approve of Soun and I deciding to arrange a marriage between our children she was intrigued by the notion of unifying the school. So we'd be living here, you'd get to know the Tendos, and while it would remain their property we'd have a chance to combine our disciplines and teach a new generation. Possibly your children once you start finding wives."

  The younger Saotome was glad that they wouldn't have to leave so soon after getting here. Despite the stress of the day he had enjoyed himself. He sunk to his knees in thought. "What did you tell her?"

  "I told her I appreciated the offer but that I needed to talk to you first."

  A burst of emotion surged through Ranma. His dad was asking him about their plans? "Wh-you…whaddya need me for?"

  Genma nodded. "That's exactly why. Ranma, I've been dragging you all over Asia for your entire life because I thought I knew what was best for you. While it is a parent's duty to take care of their children, I never even asked you what you wanted. And look where that got us.

  "I want to accept Mrs. Tendo's offer. We don't really have anywhere else to stay. And I've still got no idea where your mother is." At the mention of Ranma's mother, Genma fiddled with the wedding band on his finger. "With a place to stay we can get back on our feet much faster, find some much-needed stability after all this time, plus it was nice to see you make friends so quickly."

  Everything he was saying nailed how Ranma had felt for years. Hearing his father just…say it? Out loud? It almost didn't seem fair. "What about fixing the curse?" He didn't know if he actually wanted to pursue that line of thinking, but he didn't want to just agree with whatever his dad said without questioning it.

  "Ugh, this curse. It'll be nice to see it gone, and I'll go with you if that's what you want, but we have no idea where to start: that guide at the springs didn't have any advice about that so we'd be looking at starting with no leads. I can't pretend to know what you're going through, but at least you're still human."

  That was basically what Ranma had figured. It was important that his dad knew that he asked about it though. Plus, he didn't even seem that bothered by it! One of the things Ranma had been most terrified of is that his dad saw him as less than he was.

  "Hmph. Yeah, you've got no idea what I'm going through," Ranma huffed. He needed to make a big enough deal that his dad didn't think he liked the curse, but not so big a deal that he insisted on setting out for a cure. "But you're right. The last thing I wanna do is start stumblin' all over China looking for something we don't even know is there."

  Hope in his eyes, Genma smiled. "Well then, do you want to stay here?"

  Giving it just enough time not to seem too eager, Ranma kept his arms crossed and his eyes closed to make it seem like he was deep in thought before begrudgingly nodding. "Yeah. Let's show these city-slickers what real martial arts look like."

  Ranma yelped as his father pulled him into a hug. He almost panicked like he had earlier, but the hug was over fast enough that he didn't have to.

  "I'm glad to hear it, son. I'll tell her first thing in the morning. Now I think you and I have earned a good night's sleep."

  Ranma pulled his blankets over him and waited until he heard his father's snoring. With practiced stealth, he silently reached for his backpack and dug around in one of the pockets. He withdrew a plastic bag, inside of which was another bag, and another. Four layers of protection for what he was looking for.

  He dared not get his hopes up, that he could actually call this place home. But as he hugged P-Chan tight to his chest and drifted off to sleep, he wanted to.