All The World's A Stage

By nightelf

A work of fanfiction based on Takahashi Rumiko's Manga series, Ranma 1/2

Saotome Ranma, Saotome Genma, Saotome Nodoka, Tendou Akane, Tendou Soun, Tendou Kasumi, Tendou Nabiki, Kuonji Ukyou, Kenzan Konatsu, Hibiki Ryouga, P-chan, Unryuu Akari, Shan Pu, Mu Tsu, Kunou Tatewaki, Kunou Kodachi, Ono Toufuu, and Ninomiya Hinako are copyright 1987, 2018 by Takahashi Rumiko. Tenou Haruka and Kaiou Michiru are copyright 1991, 2018 by Takeuchi Naoko. All other characters are copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

"Show Me" lyrics copyright 2018 nightelf. All rights reserved.

Publishing rights:

Japan: Shogakukan Inc. Tokyo

Hong Kong: Jademan (Holdings) Ltd.

North America: Viz Inc.

Chapter Four of Four: That Ends This Strange Eventful History

"So. What happened between you and Kodachi?"

Ranma looked over at Ryouga as everyone sat in the dojo, sharing drinks, sharing company, swapping stories, swapping lives. She'd been expecting the question since she'd arrived, but actually answering the question, actually telling the story of what happened... in that moment, as she faced the people she called family, she suddenly felt very old. She took a deep breath to steady herself.

"Well… Ukyou. Do you remember that day when Kodachi came to Furinkan and threatened me because I was 'hiding her Ranma-sama'?"

"You mean the day before you disappeared, leaving all the rest of us devastated?" Ukyou crossed her arms in front of her.

"Yeah. That." Ranma rubbed the back of her head nervously. "Well… let's face it. By that point, we all knew Kodachi was true to her word. She'd literally gotten away with murder once - and it was pretty clear she was going to try again. So… I… decided to let her think she'd succeeded."

Her voice dropped to a monotone, the cold, analytical warrior within her taking control. "I knew she'd attack. We all saw how the threats escalated with… with Akane. Moreover, I knew how she'd attack; she'd try to strangle me with her ribbon. The bruising on Akane's neck at the morgue…". For a moment, her own throat betrayed her; her lips moved, but no sound came out. She struggled to find the strength to speak. "I knew it was coming, and I knew how it was coming. I borrowed one of Nabiki's turtleneck sweaters, put a brace in the folds to protect my neck, and went out for a walk."

Ranma looked down at the teacup in her hands and shivered. "Kodachi was waiting, of course. She waited for me to be alone, waited for an opportunity, then attacked. I faked my own death, let her think she'd succeeded; fortunately, she was more concerned about not being at the scene of the crime than in checking to see if she'd finished the job." She stared out into the void, remembering the feeling of pushing herself up from the snow and concrete, the realization of what she'd done, what she'd become at that moment. "So… for a little while, I was a dead person; I was a ghost. It's amazing what the dead can get away with…"

"And the fire?" Ukyou drawled.

Ranma placidly looked back at Ukyou. "Kodachi always was careless with her chemicals. Do you know how much ammonium nitrate fertilizer and diesel fuel she had stored in her greenhouse? Why, one stray match in the wrong place, or even a ki-blast, could blow the entire place sky-high!" Her smile turned cold. "Also, that two police officers happened to suffer debilitating illnesses afterwards, such as muscle weakness and a significant aversion to hot water, is entirely coincidental."

Toufuu raised an eyebrow at that. "So you're the one who got Nakamura and Takeshi! They went to my office for treatment… there wasn't anything I could do for them. I pointed them to Hap-"

"Ahem." Soun coughed nervously.

Toufuu blushed. "Ah, yes. I pointed them to the old master, but he wouldn't lift a finger for them. After all… those two were viewed as complicit in the destruction of his school of martial arts." He shrugged. "The Nerima precinct wasn't happy with us after that, but we weren't exactly happy with them, either. I think they wanted to arrest the lot of us - they certainly questioned us enough - but none of us had done anything, and a clash between the local police and a school of martial arts would have gone badly for everyone around."

Soun nodded sagely. "Commander Yamada met with me a year or two later, after those two had been cashiered out. I think we both realized we needed to heal the rift; it was too easy for things to spiral out of control, and his officers needed martial arts training anyway. It was not a pleasant meeting - certainly a tense one - but we got things squared away." He took a sip of his beer, then stared into its contents. "But for a couple of years, we had nothing to do with each other."

A long silence dragged on after Soun's words. Ranma looked around, watching dozens of pairs of eyes staring intently at her. Clearly, they expected her to continue the tale. "After that… well. After all of that… I was, quite literally, lost. I was talking about going on a long training trip, that I'd probably leave within a few weeks. Had I left early - even a few days earlier than what I'd planned - well… I probably wouldn't be alive today."

Everyone froze at that last statement. "What do you mean?" Ukyou asked.

Ranma pursed her lips. Performance instincts came to the fore, and she focused her eyes on the "ro" in the iroha sign on the dojo wall. If she focused on that spot, she could look like she was keeping her head high, without looking at any of the others. "I'd just lost my life. In a very real sense, I'd literally lost my life. I couldn't come back to Nerima. I'd lost my fiancee to murder; I'd had to fake my own death to stay alive… I even had to give up my name." The words had come out with more force than she'd intended; she licked her lips nervously, trying to force back her emotions. "Nothing was left – nothing worth staying for, anyway. If I went away on a long training trip… what are the chances I don't come back?"

No one responded; the room was stilled to silence. Ranma took a deep breath and sat back against the wall.

"Mom knew me, probably too well. I needed to stay busy; I needed a new challenge. If I didn't have that, what happened would eat me inside, eat me alive. So… she basically pushed me into applying for the 'zuka school." She balled a hand into a fist, flexing it as she did so, determination written on her face. "I'm the best; always have been. Martial arts, acting, singing, dance... if I'm going to do it, I'm going to beat you at it."

The adults in the room all chuckled and tittered, an undercurrent of relief in their laugh. "Good to know some things haven't changed, Saotome," Mu Tsu spoke up, a twinkle in his eyes.

Ranma matched Mu Tsu's grin. "Can you think of a better way to live your life?" Her smile fell; her voice turned strangely quiet. "It's easy to bury yourself in performance at the Revue. It's designed to cut us off from the rest of the world. Hours upon hours of practice, for everything from instrumental performance to dance to acting - and only the best go on." She rubbed her fingers against her teacup. "My pride wouldn't let me be anything else. You'd be amazed at how much the work ethic from hell can make up for. I wanted it - needed it, really - and got a lot of attention because of it. Didn't hurt that performance was a hell of a lot cheaper than therapy."

She took a sip of her tea, then continued. "Everyone starts at the bottom. Once I was out of school, I spent the first few years in the chorus, steadily working my way up to larger and larger roles. Took me about six years before I got my first lead. Once that happened, well... I didn't look back."

"Have you thought about going professional?" Li asked. "I mean, I've seen several performers go from the Revue to their own recording or acting careers..."

Ranma paused at that. She smiled grimly as she looked back at Li. "What do you think I'm thinking about right now?" She took a deep breath. "I've gotten a couple of offers. It's not unusual for a Takarazuka lead to get a few. Most are garbage; a few are worse than garbage. There's one or two that have been tempting, though a part of me wants to wait for others."

Ukyou blinked. "Wait for others?"

"When you go to school and work every day for over a decade with the best musicians in the country, you'd be amazed what you can do when you just get together and play." Ranma looked outward, imagining the musicians around her, no more choreography, no more dictation, no more directors, just a group of women playing together for the sheer joy of it. "Being in a band - a real rock band, not some choreographed idol-singer crap... that sounds like fun to me."

"Ran-chan as a rock star. You know, that fits." Ukyou gave Nabiki a nudge. "So. Wanna be Ran-chan's groupie?"

Nabiki's jaw dropped; Ranma found herself blushing at the thought. The picture in Ranma's mind, well… she wasn't going to voice it out loud. Nabiki, wearing the sort of mini-skirt that brought new heights to the word 'mini', fingers teasing across Ranma's chest as Ranma played the opening riffs to "Voodoo Chile", dressed in boots, leather pants, and a poet shirt like a rock god. Their blushes increased as they stared at each other, each contemplating just what Ukyou meant with the statement, each no doubt with their own fantasies playing out in their heads.

Nabiki, thankfully, was the first to recover. "Yeah, well... um... well. What kind of music do you prefer, Ranma?"

Ranma breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for Nabiki's interruption. "Well, a good musician is like a good practitioner of the Musebetsu Kaketou. You take what best fits you from just about any style you find. I find a blues-heavy rock tends to end up as my 'default' style, though I end up with a little bit of everything - bits from jazz, from classical, from Japanese traditional music... because of my line of work, I've listened to just about everything. About the only insistence... the vocals have to be good. For instance, I may like Bob Dylan's music, but I can't listen to him perform it, because he's so off key that it physically hurts me to listen."

She growled as one other frustration rose to the surface. "One of the other problems with most of the offers I've been getting. They basically want me to be an adult idol singer. Here's your song, here's your outfit, here's your dance routine, now go out there and act cute." She looked down into her teacup. "I've seen a couple of former colleagues go that route. And, well... that's not healthy. There's something lost in that."

"So...when are you planning to leave?" Ryouga asked.

Ranma looked over at Ryouga, then glanced at Nabiki. Nabiki still had a blush on her features; as their eyes met, Ranma found her own blush returning.

"Um… Soon." She shook her head. "Soon."

Nabiki knew a setup when she saw it. Unfortunately, this was one she couldn't get out of.

After the get-together in the dojo, Kasumi had mentioned that they likely didn't have enough food for the next day's meals, and asked her if she would go to the local grocery store, as the market was already closed. Kasumi then asked Nodoka to accompany her. At that point, Nabiki's suspicions were raised, but not to critical levels.

The trip to the grocery store was almost banal. They'd selected their ingredients at a fairly leisurely pace, getting a laundry-list of materials for the next day's cooking - mushrooms, daikon, spinach, tomatoes, scallions, tuna, beef, cabbage, and buckwheat noodles. While they'd shopped, they'd also talked; Nodoka had asked her about her life in downtown Tokyo working for the Sakaki Group, while Nabiki had asked about Takarazuka, and the ins and outs of Ranma's life. It was mildly suspicious, but nothing particularly alarming.

It was when Nodoka had asked if Nabiki was interested in takoyaki and drinks that Nabiki knew she was being set up.

The pair slipped into the takoyaki stand; Nabiki blinked at the incongruity of it all. Somehow, she never thought she'd be sharing drinks with "Auntie Nodoka". They laid their grocery bags next to their seats, and sat down.

"A set of takoyaki balls with okonomiyaki sauce on top, and two bottles of sake, please," Nodoka said as she slipped into the stand.

Nabiki stared at Nodoka as if she'd grown a second head.

Nodoka simply raised an eyebrow. "What, did you think I was always some proper Japanese housewife? I used to work in the Revue; learning where to eat and drink late at night is a necessity in that line of work. In fact, I first met Soun and Genma at a food stand much like this one; he and your father were trying to scam free food, just to survive. Back then they were both being run ragged by the old lech; both of them were so skinny from being on the road." She smiled wistfully. "That's the thing about love. You never know where it will start." Her smile faltered. "Never know where it will end, either."

Nabiki frowned. "Daddy doesn't like to talk about those days very much."

"With good reason," Nodoka replied. "Being a martial artist... it leaves scars on a person. They're expected to 'defend the weak'... to 'give their lives for the Art'... No one asks them when they're weak, when they need help." The bartender set the bottles of sake down in front of them; Nodoka opened hers, and poured some into a dish. "Kimiko was stronger than I was. She kept your father grounded, helped him heal." She took a sip of her sake. "Me... I wasn't prepared for Genma's scars. He was so terrified of starving that he ate to excess. He was so obsessed with producing a martial artist better than his own master that..." She looked at the rest of the sake in the dish and downed it in one gulp, grimacing at the assault on her taste buds and stomach.

"Which brings me to why I brought you here." She poured another sample of sake into her dish. "What are your intentions toward my daughter?"

Nabiki stopped cold. She raised a shaking hand to her own bottle of sake, and poured herself a drink. "I... I don't know."

Nodoka's face could have been carved from stone. "Neither did Akane - not until too much damage had been done." Her anger faltered. "Unfortunately, neither did my daughter."

Nabiki took a sip of her own drink, the shake of her hand increasing. Some topics would quickly anger her; her late sister's less appealing traits were among them. "What are you trying to tell me, Auntie?"

The bartender placed the takoyaki balls in between them. Nodoka stabbed a takoyaki ball with a skewer, and stared at it morosely. "My child is scarred, Nabiki - worse than my husband was. I couldn't help Genma with his scars, and I can't help Ranma with hers, either." She gently blew on a takoyaki ball before taking a bite.

Nabiki gave Nodoka a flat stare. "And you think I can."

Nodoka swallowed her bite, and looked back at Nabiki. "Where do you plan to be in ten years?"

"This isn't a job interview, Auntie," Nabiki growled.

"Answer the question, please," Nodoka replied testily.

Nabiki sat back for a moment and pondered Nodoka's question. She liked working at the Sakaki firm. It used all the best parts of her in a way that fulfilled her, that let her sleep at night with a clear conscience without the guilt and the nightmares Nerima had provided. That said, it was also a lonely life. She would talk with wo after woman, whether they were a housewife or office lady, hear their hopes and dreams, and help plan their lives.

What were her hopes and dreams? What was the plan for her life? Did she want to go back to her apartment, alone, every day for the rest of her life?

Nodoka clearly took her lack of answer as an answer in and of itself. "Ranma is scarred. For ten years, the only person she had was her father; any friends she made on the road, like Ukyou or Ryouga, quickly disappeared. Some of the things my husband put her through should have had him locked up; everything from running from wolves to being thrown into a pit of cats. She was so emotionally stunted by the time she got to your family's dojo that she didn't know where to begin living. As perverse as it sounds, the curse - and the curse being locked - may have been the best thing to happen to my daughter. It gave her the chance to heal - and alerted Akane to the need for healing. And then, just as she's starting to learn how to be a human being..." Nodoka shook her head in disgust. "My point is this. If you want something more... you have to be the one to go get it. My daughter is too scarred, too afraid to act on her own. Your sister figured that out, before the end." She took another sip of her sake. "Don't let it be too late for you as well." She visibly deflated, and skewered another takoyaki ball. "Just... think about what I said. Okay?"

Nabiki took a look at the dish of sake in her hand. "I can see why you ordered sake for both of us." She poured more into her dish, then drained its contents, wincing as the alcohol went down. "I'll think about it, Auntie. No promises, though."

Nodoka nodded. "That's all I ask." She looked over at her own bottle. She poured more sake into her dish, and raised it in Nabiki's direction. "To scars."

Nabiki refilled her dish of sake; she could appreciate Nodoka's toast. Though she wasn't a martial artist, she had her own scars to work through. "To scars." She raised her own dish in toast, and took a careful sip.

She just hoped those scars wouldn't choose that night to bleed.

"Ranma?"

Ranma looked up from her bedtime preparations. The dojo was more than full; curtains were drawn up to give people at least a semblance of privacy. Next to her, she could hear Ryouga and Akari gently talking as they wound down the day. "Yeah, Kasumi?"

"I..." Kasumi grimaced as she hefted a backpack in her arms. "When you disappeared, you left a few things behind. I was wondering... do you want them back?"

Ranma took a deep breath. So much of her life was spent with that backpack. She could see a dozen rips and tears, carefully sewn and patched up for repair; her mind flashed back to each of those moments, those momentary catastrophes. For much of her childhood and adolescence, the backpack - and what was inside - was everything she called her own. "... wow." She blinked. "How much did I leave behind?"

Kasumi shrugged. "Not much, to be honest. Your backpack, a few clothes, some mementos..."

Ranma fought back her tears as she took the backpack from Kasumi's hands. She tried to ignore just how much heavier it felt from those early days. "Okay. Um... thanks."

She untied the drawstring that closed the backpack, and opened it up to see what was inside. Her breath caught in her throat at the first thing there: a red Chinese-style shirt. She'd practically lived in the shirt during her time in Nerima. "... oh, my." She pulled the shirt over her shoulders and fastened the frogs in front; wearing the shirt felt like a hug from an old friend. "Wow."

Kasumi wiped a few tears from her eyes. "Red always suited you."

"Yeah," Ranma replied, fighting back her own tears. A few other articles of clothing were stored in the backpack - a few more shirts, some pants that actually fit. After she'd been locked, the Tendou girls had pointed out the usefulness of wearing clothing that fit. Ranma eventually conformed to that ideal, with only the Chinese shirts remaining of her male clothing.

Her mouth twitched. Ironically, she owned more male clothing now than she ever did before or during her 'cursed' days. She pulled out a pair of comfortable pants and slipped them over her sleep boxers, twirled around, and presented herself in front of Kasumi.

"How do I look?"

Kasumi couldn't help but giggle. "Like a teenaged girl trying on her older brother's clothes?"

Ranma chortled; Kasumi had used those same words to argue for female clothing after she'd been locked. She put her hands on her hips and grinned in response. "Nowadays, saying I look like a teenaged girl - a teenaged anything, for that matter - is a high compliment!"

Kasumi put her face in her hand, even as she fought her own giggles. "Oh, Ranma, Ranma, Ranma..."

Ranma continued to reach into her backpack, pulling out more mementos - a canteen, a blanket, a pocket knife. She continued to pull out other material, until she stopped at a canary-yellow scarf in her hands.

"Oh, my god..." Ranma's jaw dropped at the sight. The haphazard workmanship, the uneven stitching of her initials... it was all there.

Kasumi's eyes widened. "Is that Akane's...?"

"Yeah," Ranma replied, her voice tight. She flopped down on her futon, her legs suddenly feeling very weak. She looked up at Kasumi; the two stared at each other for a moment, unable to find speech.

"I remember when she tried to knit that scarf," Kasumi said gently. "She'd tried to put everything into making that scarf, knitting for several weeks to get it done before Christmas. That was the way she did everything - with enthusiasm and love, but not with a lot of patience."

"Yeah," Ranma whispered. She carefully wrapped the scarf around her neck. "I didn't bring it with me that day because, well... I didn't want it damaged." She rubbed her neck through the scarf. "I knew whatever I was wearing that day would be damaged by Kodachi's ribbon."

"Still... it suits you," Kasumi replied, a wan smile on her face. An uncomfortable silence descended on the pair; Ranma idly fingered the edges of the scarf.

After a minute, a strange look appeared in Kasumi's eyes. "You know, we have a mirror downstairs in the clinic. Do you want to see how it looks on you?"

Ranma blinked. There was something off about Kasumi's demeanor, which most likely meant she was up to something. "Um... sure." She heard amused whispering coming from Ryouga and Akari, but couldn't quite understand what they were saying. She let Kasumi pull her to her feet and lead her down to the first floor.

Ranma frowned. "Where's Mom and Nabiki?" she asked.

Kasumi waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, I needed some food for tomorrow, so I asked them to go down to the store to pick some up." She moved Ranma over to a full-length mirror.

"So. What do you think?"

Ranma looked at herself in the mirror. She wasn't sure what to make of the person that stared back. It was such a mix of her life that she barely knew where to begin processing it all. Her brutally-short hair was still coiffed in the Takarazuka style; it was simpler for her to just go with the look, rather than try to change it up on her off days. Her makeup had been washed off, giving her a face that was closer to the 'original' female Ranma, yet highlighted the changes she'd gone through. Put simply, it wasn't a sixteen-year-old street urchin that stared out from the mirror; she was a full-grown and mature woman on the wrong side of thirty, with the beginnings of wrinkles that would only increase with time. Still, there was hope; there was time. She was still trim, and fit, and that could be seen through her outfit. Martial arts and stage performance demanded peak physical condition, and she'd maintained much of her strength over the years.

That said, the outfit she wore indicated just how much time had passed. It had been over a decade since she'd worn the shirt she had on. And the scarf...

Behind her, Kasumi put her hands on Ranma's shoulders. "What do you think?"

"I..." For once, Ranma didn't know what to think. Inside her was still that sixteen-year-old, still that force of nature, with an unstoppable confidence that had defeated gods. Unfortunately, the thirty-year-old woman knew better. She fingered the edges of the scarf she wore.

Kasumi chose that moment to wrap her arms around Ranma from behind, a move born of pain and family. Ranma startled at the intrusion.

Eventually, Kasumi raised her eyes, boring her gaze into Ranma's reflection. Ranma gulped; Kasumi only stared her down like that when she wanted to be sure that Ranma would listen.

"Ranma, I would never rush you into anything you don't want to do." Kasumi reached out, and grabbed the hand fidgeting with the scarf. "But, sometimes, time does run out." Her grip tightened. "Just... think about it, okay?"

Ranma stood, transfixed. She knew exactly what Kasumi was asking of her. Her other hand reached up to grasp Kasumi's.

"I... I..." Ranma whispered. "I don't know, Kasumi. I really don't." She frowned. "Wha-"

"Yes, you do," Kasumi interrupted. "You do know. You know because you're scared again. You know because you don't want these regrets again." She released her embrace on Ranma, putting her hands back on Ranma's shoulders. "Sometimes, time does run out, Ranma. Please... don't let time run out. Not with this."

Ranma's heartbeat thudded hard in her chest, roaring in her ears. It took effort to find the words. "I... I'll think about it," she finally replied.

Kasumi nodded in reply. "That's all I ask."

Ranma looked down at herself - at the shirt and pants she wore, at her house slippers. She realized she needed to get her shoes.

"Kasumi?"

"Yes?"

Ranma frowned. "I'm going out for a bit. It may be a couple of hours before I get back."

"Nabiki!"

Nabiki's eyes popped open at Ranma's hiss. She tried to fight off the alcohol still in her system from her talk with Nodoka. "R... Ranma?"

The room was completely dark, but the silhouette was all Ranma. More to the point, it was classic Ranma, albeit with minor modifications; she could see the oversized sleeves of the Chinese shirt she wore. "Um… could you come with me? There's something I want to show you."

Nabiki blinked for a moment at the words. On the one hand, it was late at night; on the other hand, it was Ranma. And after what Nodoka had said... "Sure," she said blearily. "Let me get dressed first." She threw on some utilitarian clothing - a pullover top and jeans - and made her way out.

As Ranma led Nabiki through the streets of Nerima, her eyes widened. Ranma's outfit could have been taken - and likely was taken - from her seventeen-year-old self; the red of her silk shirt blazed in the lamplight, while a haphazardly-knitted scarf wrapped around her neck. Their footsteps echoed on the pavement as they walked; the streets were strangely quiet, as it was well after midnight, and the trains had already shut down. The streetlights cast an eerie glow with their movements, as ghosts and shadows danced around the edges of her vision.

Nabiki shivered at her surroundings. "So where are we going?"

Ranma stared back at her, her face serious. "The best acting job of my life." She led Nabiki through the streets of Nerima, finally stopping in front of a convenience store. Her shoulders drooped at the sight in front of her.

"Ranma?"

Ranma didn't answer immediately. Instead, she crouched in front of the store, her hand resting on the front glass.

"It was snowing… that day. The day I died."

Nabiki's jaw dropped.

Ranma continued. "I was wearing your sweater, as well as a skirt and some warm tights… but I still remember feeling cold. I never liked the cold - and being like this, I was always more susceptible to it." She paused for a moment. "It wasn't comfortable, but it did help in two important respects. First, I could wear a brace under the turtleneck without anyone noticing." Ranma put a hand to her scarf. Nabiki wrapped her arms around herself, shivering. "And second… I could sense Kodachi much more easily in the cold."

She took a deep breath, and continued. "At the time, this place was a vacant lot - the only one on this street. She'd been tracking me for a couple of streets, keeping to the rooftops; I hadn't really offered her an opportunity to attack. I was leading her here. Leading her to this location. Once I passed the opening in the fence… I knew she'd attack."

Ranma's eyes unfocused, clearly seeing something else. "That brace around my neck, underneath the turtleneck of the sweater… it's probably the one thing that kept me alive." She took a few steps along the front of the convenience store, retracing a path only she could see, before finally stopping at a point. "There was a gap in the fence here, a place for someone to enter the lot if they needed to."

Her hand cupped around her neck, through the scarf. "It was here where Kodachi's ribbon caught me."

Nabiki gulped; her own hand reached up toward her neck. Ranma turned around, walking toward the end of the store to the alley between it and the next building, a florist's shop. "Kodachi didn't believe in fighting fair, and this was no exception. She caught me around the neck - I'm lucky she didn't snap my neck right there - and threw me into that wall." Ranma walked into the alley, feeling around the concrete before finding a damaged area. "Right here." She gulped. "I then fell to the ground here."

Nabiki felt a chill go down her spine. There had been a brain contusion in Akane's autopsy report; to know why left her visibly shaken.

Ranma licked her lips. "Kodachi was always fast. I was dazed for a moment by the impact, and she took advantage. In a split second, she'd wrapped her ribbon several times around my neck. She then grabbed the other end and pulled, pushing her knee against my back."

Nabiki stood there, transfixed, horrified.

Tears began to fall down Ranma's face. "I… if you want to know the best acting job of my life, it was here. Even with the brace, I could barely breathe; the sounds I made weren't faked, weren't some fabrication. I grabbed frantically at the ribbons around my neck; it was enough to get them in a better position so I could breathe a little easier, but to Kodachi it must have been a desperation move. I started flailing behind me, trying to grab the ribbons, trying anything to breathe, trying anything to get out of it." Her mouth moved up and down for a moment, grasping for words. "I… I stuck my tongue out, trying to taste air, seemingly desperate for any touch of oxygen; my eyes bulged out of their sockets from the pressure." She put her hands to her eyes. "I even burst blood vessels in my eyes from what happened."

At that moment, Ranma seemed to visibly shrink within herself. "And, then, after a minute or two… I had to feel all life leave me. I let everything go. This was Soul of Ice, but to a whole new level. The only things I kept tight control of were my core and my diaphragm, getting just enough air in to keep me alive, without making it look like I was still alive. Everything else had to go; everything else went completely limp. It was a last prayer, a hope that she'd think me gone."

Ranma let out a deep breath; Nabiki found herself following suit. "I was lucky, in a way. Kodachi got away with one murder, but any witnesses… well, she couldn't get away with two if there were witnesses. There wasn't enough money for that. So, she unwrapped her ribbon from my neck, and fled the scene. I felt her ki as she left. Even then, I didn't get up for several minutes. I… I didn't want to move. All I wanted to do was breathe. I breathed into the snow I'd fallen into, hiding my breath - hiding my life."

She looked down at the concrete, at her final resting place. "I don't know how long it was. A few minutes? It felt like years. Just lying there. Part of me wanted to stay there forever. Maybe I'd see Akane again. Also… I was so tired of fighting." She gave a brittle smile. "But, well… Saotome Ranma doesn't lose."

For the first time in minutes, Nabiki smiled with her. "So you prepared your revenge."

"Damn straight," Ranma replied, an intensity to her gaze. "I'd put a disguise in my school bag when I left; it was time to use it. The pigtail went away; I cut my hair boyishly short along the sides and back. A dye job turned my hair blue. Some ripped jeans and a t-shirt I'd borrowed from Akane's closet, some choice jewelry, a fake nose ring, and I would look so far from Saotome Ranma that no one would give me a second look." A dark, bleak look shadowed her face. "I was mad at the world. The punk look fit my mood. And those burst blood vessels… there's nothing quite like eyes red with blood. I looked like a punk demon from hell - and that's exactly how I felt. Because I was going to drag Kodachi to hell, even if I had to follow her."

She braced herself against one wall. "I've always known how to survive on my own. Sleeping under bridges, in culverts, even dumpsters… it just added to the disguise. I bided my time, observing Kodachi… finding a weakness."

"And you found the ammonium nitrate," Nabiki said.

Ranma raised an eyebrow, a sly grin appearing on her features; it only added to the macabre feeling in the alley. "You do realize what you get when you combine ammonium nitrate with a little bit of diesel fuel, right?"

Nabiki frowned. "Sorry; I tried to avoid taking chemistry."

Ranma's grin became manic, almost demonic. "Something I learned from some Army guys in Okinawa. Some nasty stuff called ANFO."

Nabiki's eyes widened.

"I knew her habits. I knew when she'd be home; I knew when she'd go to her laboratory. Time things just right, and…" she raised her hands in the air in a shrug. "Was lucky to get out of that one, too; when ANFO goes, it goes. I hit the ANFO from as far a distance as I could, I took refuge behind a table to escape the blast, and I was still lucky to make it out of there."

Any happiness in Ranma's face, maniacal or otherwise, faded away. "And then… after it was all done… after I knew Kodachi was gone… with the explosion still ringing in my ears… I went out for ice cream. One last time. To say goodbye." She swallowed. "It was empty. Tasted like ashes. An hour later, a girl named Ran was on a train for Osaka. And Saotome Ranma was gone."

Ranma took Nabiki in her arms, and slowly started to guide her away from the alley. "I didn't go to the Revue right away. I was actually preparing for a training trip. Then, one day, Mom tells me to dress up nice and to come with her. I didn't even know what she was doing, where she was taking me; I ended up auditioning cold for the school. By the time I figured out what was going on, well… I have too much pride to lose." She smiled wistfully. "Always did. You think I'd ever finish in second place - even in something like an audition?"

Nabiki snorted.

"The 'zuka school helped a great deal. Kept me busy. Let me vent in all the right ways. Kept me fighting, kept me competing - like I said, I have too much pride to lose." She shrugged. "Learned some new skills there, too – singing, dance, guitar, piano…"

"Piano?" Nabiki looked at Ranma's hands. "Well, you've always been good with your hands…" She blushed as she realized the implications of the statement.

Fortunately, Ranma didn't notice. "Hey, it's required study at the School." She looked up to the stars. "Also… well… life was normal as well as busy. I was just one of the girls there, and no one knew me from anyone. And… well… the stage is a great place to both hide the pain, and get rid of it." She gave a ladylike snort. "They always said I was good at the dramatic scenes, the tragedies. I didn't mark so highly on comedy, but drama… that I had in spades."

A strange emptiness filled the air in that moment, as they strolled back toward the Tendou home. For a moment, an irrational fear filled Nabiki. She'd lost Ranma years ago, to tragedies that nearly engulfed her. And, in a day or two, she would be back in her own world, acting as financial advisor, away from anything and everything to do with Ranma.

She couldn't lose Ranma again. Moreover, she knew Ranma. She knew all of the parts that Ranma left on the stage - and knew what this Ranma would do, and would not.

Nodoka's warning echoed in her mind. She was the one who had to act. In a sense, she had to be the man in the relationship.

If it meant having Ranma in her life, she could do that. "So what now?" she asked, her question hanging in the air.

"Now?" Ranma replied, blinking.

Nabiki looked at her, incredulous. Uncontrollably, she started to laugh.

"What?" Ranma asked, irritably.

Nabiki smiled and put a hand to Ranma's face; the move stopped Ranma cold. "You know, for spending so long as a girl, for becoming an actress and studying people and the way they move and think, for all of that… you can still be a clueless boy sometimes." Ranma's brows furrowed in confusion at the statement; Nabiki chose that moment to act. She pressed Ranma close to herself, wrapping her hand around Ranma's waist, and kissed her on the lips.

It took a moment for Ranma to respond; once she did, however, the moment became electric for Nabiki. How long had she kept this bottled inside herself, for so long an outsider to a world that couldn't understand her, couldn't even comprehend her? And here was one of the few people who understood, the few people who knew the hells she'd lived through - because she'd shared them herself. Tears fell down her face at the joy of simple release, relief at finally reaching a safe haven.

She was right. Her sister was right. Auntie Nodoka was right. She couldn't lose Ranma again - not when there was a chance at happiness.

Eventually, they broke the kiss, and stared into each other's eyes. Ranma took a moment to recover herself. "Ah," she replied. "I see. That 'now'. Yes, you're right; I can be a clueless boy sometimes. Interesting to see I haven't lost all of it, even after all this time." She gave a rakish grin, the cocky smile Nabiki had always characterized as the essence of Ranma. "It is clear, then, that I am in need of additional tutoring, if I am to comport myself properly as a woman." She switched to the split-skirt she'd used when fighting, wearing the Chinese shirt as a loose jacket around her frame. "Also, it is clear that the lessons should be more intense, more… intimate… than before. So. Is my old tutor up to the task?"

Nabiki grinned; her eyes twinkled. "Oh, you'd be surprised at the lessons I can teach."

Nabiki had never quite understood the meaning of the term 'curfew'. There was never really a need for it. Her mother's death had forced her to grow up faster than intended, and left few options for anyone to wait at home for her. Thus, getting caught as she and Ranma entered the dojo and clinic was a new experience. She blushed, and scratched the back of her neck.

"Um… hi, sis."

Kasumi and Nodoka sat at Kasumi's desk, enjoying tea and cookies. They looked at each other carefully, as though sharing a private joke. "You know, I haven't had much practice in waiting up for my children to come home after they'd stayed out too late. I must say, it's a fascinating experience."

Nodoka tittered. "I had quite the opposite problem. My husband and child left, and it was ten years before I saw them again. That has to be some sort of record for breaking curfew."

Nabiki just stared at the two. "You two are enjoying this too much."

She felt Ranma's hand tighten in her own. "Meh, let them enjoy it."

"Speaking of enjoying…" Nodoka cast her eye at the pair, "how was your excursion?"

The two looked at each other carefully, conversations going on with their eyes. More to the point, they could see Nodoka and Kasumi's smiles widen with their conversation. Nabiki finally broke the stalemate. "I believe you are the actress of the two of us. You'd probably do a better job of explaining."

Ranma tilted her head to the side for a moment, then nodded. She blurred in an instant; a second later, she reappeared in the same spot, wearing one of Nabiki's suits. "Ms. Tendou and I have been in significant, tense, and drawn-out negotiations. After an initial fact-finding mission, an analysis of current and future trends, and a basic statement of wants and needs, the two of us have tentatively agreed on a partnership, with the details to be determined at a later date."

Nabiki put her head in her hands and groaned. "Oh, no… I haven't gotten in a relationship with one woman… I've gotten into a relationship with hundreds!"

Ranma grinned at the response. She blurred again, this time wearing a man's suit. She winked lecherously. "Who says it's just with women, sweet cheeks?"

Nabiki stopped for a moment. Her head tilted to one side. "You know, that would provide some legal basis for our relationship… and no one would begrudge a Takarazuka otokoyaku for 'living the role', so to speak." She took a step back, and eyed Ranma appraisingly. "A shame, really. I'd love to see what you'd look like in a wedding dress!"

Ranma put a finger to her chin in thought. "I think the costume storage at the Revue has one we could borrow, if you wanted to see something like that." Her mouth quirked. "They certainly have enough suits for you to play the groom."

Nabiki's mouth twisted wryly. "Maybe I should dress as an actor for work one day - just to see the response."

Kasumi and Nodoka chuckled. "One advantage I knew I would have - if my child ever settled down," Nodoka fixed as baleful gaze on Ranma, "is that I might get to see her as both bride and groom." Her posture relaxed. "Though I need to ask. Is it official - or unofficial?"

Ranma looked into her mother's eyes, knowing what she was asking. She also knew that, for once in her life, acting - playing a role - would be a bad idea. She found a chair and sat down in reverse, the back of the chair between her legs. "Mom… Nabiki… I don't know." She slumped onto the backing, resting her chin on her arms. "I did mention something about details. This is one." She looked down, away from Nabiki's gaze for a moment. "The Revue doesn't want us in relationships - at least, not openly. Some actors get around that by being generally quiet about it. They have 'roommates', or 'close friends'." She looked over at Nabiki. "There's some friends I can talk to about it. Which way to go. I'll be honest, I'm not sure."

Nabiki nodded. "Like you said - details. I couldn't ask you to quit, any more than you could ask me to. It wouldn't be fair to either of us."

Ranma tilted her head to one side. "Do you mind being my 'roommate'"?

Nabiki sighed. "Details. I don't mind being your 'roommate'; that said, I might be the 'friend from out-of-town who comes in on weekends'."

"I know," Ranma nodded thoughtfully. Silence hung over the group for a moment.

Nabiki looked down at Ranma and touched a hand to her shoulder. "Ranma, I don't know the details; we'll figure those out later." She gave Ranma a look. "That said... for tonight... let's go to bed."

Ranma's eyebrows shot up, catching the implications. "You mean - now?"

Nabiki smiled gently, reminding Ranma more of her older sister. "Ranma… while we will no doubt share intimate moments with each other, when I mention 'bed'... right now, I just want someone to hold and to be next to me as I sleep, and to wake up with me in the morning. More than anything... more than sex... that's what I want - someone to be with me for a very long time. Is that all right?"

Next to them, Kasumi and Nodoka shared a glance. Ranma nodded, her eyes shining. "Let's go to bed."

Epilogue

A long time ago, some performer - Ranma wasn't sure who - said that the show must go on. That, if anything, was an understatement. The show was sacrosanct, never to be disturbed. It was never about the wants or needs of the people on the stage, but the people in the audience; breaking character was a sin her pride wouldn't allow.

Despite this, as she went for her curtain call, the tears wouldn't be denied as the applause thundered around her. She accepted the orchids, wiping her tears as she waved to the crowd, acknowledging their appreciation.

It wasn't every day that a Takarazuka lead left the Revue, after all.

The curtain drew back, the spotlights dimmed; Ranma took a ragged breath, trying to keep her emotions in check.

It was done. Really done. She took a deep breath to gather herself, then walked backstage.

Congratulations and applause awaited her there as well. It showed a new side to some of her colleagues she hadn't seen before. Rivalries and jealousies existed backstage as with any other line of work, but such rivalries seemed petty and useless when one of their own stepped away. She accepted the reception with grace, taking her time to change out of her outfit for once as she stripped away her costume, not wanting the night to end, not quite wanting to let go.

Quite naturally, due to the time she'd taken to talk with colleagues, she was among the last to shower. She stepped under the shower head, turned on the tap - then screamed at the assault of cold water. She gritted her teeth and began to wash; one of the drawbacks of showering last was the hot water usually ran out by the time everyone had showered. Frequent complaints had been made to management, but they still hadn't gotten around to improving the hot water situation. She found herself shivering, her teeth chattering as she quickly washed off the grime of the day.

She was in front of the vanity in her bathrobe, still shivering, when she felt a presence behind her. She grinned without turning around; she was working on her eye makeup.

"Hey, Haruka."

Haruka smiled, and put her hand on Ranma's shoulder. "We're gonna miss you, short stuff."

Ranma snorted. "I'll miss you too, beanpole." Her eyes laughed as she opened her tube of lipstick. "You going to make Michiru an honest woman one of these days?"

Haruka looked away for a moment. "Maybe. One day." She snorted. "Maybe Michiru and I will restart that band we were in back in school, back before Takarazuka. Sounds like something fun to do once I'm done here. Of course, if we do that, we could always use a top-notch musician such as yourself..." She snorted. "So. Going to be someone's dutiful salaryman husband?"

Ranma blotted her lips with a tissue, then grinned. "Nah. Nabiki's the salaryman in the relationship; I'm just the former-actress 'trophy-wife'."

Haruka laughed at the implications. "You? A trophy wife? Now that I find hard to believe!"

Ranma finished the last touches of her makeup; she turned around in the chair. "You've met Nabiki. What do you think?"

Haruka's eyes twinkled. She opened her mouth, then stopped for a moment, her face suddenly serious. "I think this has been a long time coming - trophy wife."

"Damn straight," Ranma replied, still in jocular mode. Her mood then faded to match Haruka's.

"Haruka?"

Haruka raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

For a moment, Ranma reflected on the life she was leaving. Females they were, but there was too much guy in either of them to ever be feminine; that brusque nature played itself out in their conversation. "Thanks. For everything."

Haruka nodded. "You're welcome." She motioned toward the exit behind her. "Now get dressed. I'll walk you out."

Ranma rose from her chair and ran a hand over her outfit as it hung on its hanger. Beyond the undergarments, her outfit was a simple affair: a pair of cream-colored slacks, a matching long sport jacket - and a black turtleneck sweater. Nabiki, she knew, would get the meaning. She donned her undergarments, then looked back at the waiting Haruka.

"I gotta be me."

"Wha-" Haruka blinked for a moment; in that moment, Ranma went from barely dressed to completely attired.

Haruka snorted. "Showoff."

"Isn't that part of the business?" Ranma replied as they approached the exit. She pulled her shoes from its cubbyhole, and slipped them on her feet. She was about to open her mouth, when she paused to look around one last time.

"Kinda hard to walk away, isn't it?" Haruka asked.

Ranma shook her head. "No. This is the easiest thing in the world." She looked Haruka in the eye. "For the right person, for the right reasons? It's the easiest thing in the world." She gestured to the door. "Come on."

Haruka chuckled quietly, clearly thinking about Michiru; Ranma turned to the door, feeling Haruka's presence behind her.

The line of fans was unusually rowdy that evening; they usually were, the last night. Ranma saw the people standing at the end of the walkway, made eye contact with Nabiki, and tilted her head to the crowd. Nabiki smiled, and nodded her understanding.

Ranma made her way slowly through the line, signing autographs, shaking hands, accepting the adulation, giving her thanks. Haruka was behind her, joining in sharing with the crowd, as they gently made their way toward the end. It was a gauntlet she'd walked a thousand times before, but this time was an undulating mass of people, chaotic, electric; it seemed to take forever to make her way through.

And then... at the end, five people stared at each other. Nabiki's makeup was already ruined, though it was hard to tell in the evening's shadow. Michiru and Haruka took each other's hands and stood off to one side; this wasn't their moment - not yet. Nodoka also made her way to one side, simply content to watch.

Ranma stared into Nabiki's dark eyes. She raised a hand to touch Nabiki's cheek, to wipe the tracks of tears away, even as she fought her own tears.

Nabiki smiled, and blushed at the response. Ranma understood; for all Nabiki made a show of cool, there was a part of her still insecure, still worried, still alone within the crowd. Ranma could do something about that. She found her hand drifting downward to the curve of Nabiki's cheekbone; a gentle touch drew Nabiki's face toward her own.

The first kiss was tender, tentative, more exploration and invitation, an emotional knock on the door, a question as to how much could be shared. The first was followed by a second, more passionate embrace; Ranma found her arms wrapping around the back of Nabiki's neck, as Nabiki's wrapped around Ranma's back, as the two lost themselves within each other. Ranma dimly noted the cheering and applause around her; she didn't pay it much mind.

After a long moment, the two broke off the kiss. Ranma stared up into Nabiki's soft grin.

"Come on, Ranma," Nabiki breathed. "Let's go home."

Ranma nodded softly. She reached a hand to wipe her own tears as Michiru and Haruka led them to a nearby car; she let Nabiki guide her into the back seat, and settled into Nabiki's embrace.

The play was done, the curtain had closed, the applause had died. It was time for her to live again.

fin

Author's notes:

I will occasionally see an artist that takes a work that they'd done years earlier, in the early days of their production, and reproduces it. The purpose of the exercise is to see how they have changed and matured as an artist in that time.

That's what this work feels like to me. I first wrote a Ranma-deals-with-being-stuck work (Sunrise) when I was 20 years old. I'm now 43. (As an aside, this is one reason why I tend to laugh at the occasional criticism I get that Ranma-gets-stuck fics are done to death. I'm not disagreeing; that said, unless your name is Joseph Rispoli, Jr., Mike Termena, Rumiko Takahashi, or anyone else who wrote and posted a Ranma-gets-stuck work before March 1996, you're not going to get a receptive audience from me.) At any rate, it's interesting to see what has changed and what hasn't, what I'm willing to do, what I think is smart to do. For instance, what is sexuality like for Ranma? How much does attraction matter; how much does sex matter; how much does relationship matter? These things change over time - and the emotional impact of these things change over time. For instance, the seventeen-year-old Ranma would be ashamed at attraction to a guy along with its potential consequences; the thirty-year-old Ranma understands her attractions, but understands that healthy relationships, of friendship and family as well as of love, are more important. I couldn't have written this work as a 20-year-old; I'm not sure I could have written this work as a 30-year-old. But now… well.

I'm not sure where this came from. My guess would be a discussion within a small group of friends a couple of years ago in which the Takarazuka Revue came up; maybe a watching of Ouran High School Host Club triggered a Wiki search. But, well, somewhere in that discussion came the idea of Ranma-as-Takarazuka-actress. Once you have that picture, the backstory starts to fill in. Why is Ranma in Takarazuka? Well, what had to change in her life for that to happen? Manhood, almost certainly; becoming a Takarasienne is a massive commitment, one that would have meant being that girl 24/7 for years. Akane, also almost certainly, unless she happened to go along for the ride; while some writers would favor other fiancees such as Ukyou (Hi, Zen!), believe it or not, I tend to favor the R/A pairing outside of relationship events breaking that up. But what events would be significant enough to force Ranma away from Nerima – and what would those events have been like?

Any good story starts from a small idea bloomed large. Try to start from the large, and internal inconsistencies inevitably fracture the work; it's by starting small, and expanding from there, that a story is internally consistent.

The one bit of writing that non-writers don't quite get, I think, is research. Writing this obviously meant researching the Takarazuka Revue, its history and structure and the 'zuka school and the like - though I did make the occasional error, I know; research can only do so much. I did a bit of research on various forms of martial arts, to try to get a feel for how a martial art philosophy like the Musebetsu Kaketou would work. The other thing - and this may sound odd - was in the breakfast scene. I looked up recipes on grilled mackerel, on Japanese-style folded omelet… but the one thing that I'm taking with me is how to make good pour-over coffee. (Bit of trivia: roughly 70-80% of Jamaica Blue Mountain ends up in Japan. Great stuff, that; I highly recommend it.) I looked up how to make a good pour-over, to the point of learning how to do it myself; the results tasted so good that I put the Keurig out by the curb.

I haven't stopped writing, and don't think I ever could; besides writing-for-work stuff, there's a work in progress that I suspect will be out before the end of this year or early next, a Miraculous Ladybug fic that's about 5-7 scenes from being complete at this point. This one, well… this one I suspect is going to generate some controversy. That said, if I didn't make someone upset with my writing, I just wouldn't be me. :)

At any rate, I need to thank some people for looking over this and commenting on it over time, or participating in discussions that ultimately shaped this. MageOhki, Miriani, Aleh, Chi, Bleuette, Katar, ECSNorway, Minako, Gunnarson, Conseq, Ryu, Fosfor, Xiophen, Drakensis, Stormwalker, Gamlain, Waywren, Zen, Katrina, Ellen, Sandborn, Engels, Ucchan and Konatsu.

Finally… one other not-so-good thing about getting older: watching friends die. I had to take Chilord off of the pre-reader list after the initial draft was released in late July; he passed on August 2, after a fight with cancer. We'll miss you, Chi.

- Nightelf
September 15, 2018