Story: Double Trouble

 

It was funny. Akane felt a very strong urge to wear one of Ranma's shirts and wander around the house. She had just about enough strength of will to deny that request, but even so? She was walking on air. It was so funny. When she'd first heard about Ranma, the arranged marriage, all of that, she'd been so... Angry. How dare their father pick for them who one of them would marry? Looking back, he was still absolutely in the wrong about it - But what if she'd decided on her own accord to go along with it?

She had still been crushing on Doctor Tofu. That made her giggle a little as she stepped downstairs. Ah? Oh, it seems that she was wearing Ranma's shirt. She sniffed at it and sighed happily. Gosh, that little crush on the good Doctor felt so... immature, somehow. He was a good man, but his feelings clearly didn't return to her at all, did they?

Ranma, on the other hand. Ranma, Ranma, Ranma. He was exciting. Exhilarating. They had so much in common, and it was funny to think. If those two from the future hadn't showed up to show them both how absolutely compatible they were, they'd probably wind up taking forever to hook up.

Akane hummed to herself as she made her way to the kitchen, still absently fingering the hem of Ranma’s shirt. It smelled like him, which was a very nice thing, and her mood was soaring too high to question it. She might’ve fought it before—denied it, shoved it deep down and refused to acknowledge how much she liked the way she felt in it—but right now? Right now, she felt like she could walk on clouds.

She sighed happily as she stepped into the kitchen, planning to make herself some tea. The house was quiet, with everyone else having gone out for the day. It was a rare moment of peace, and she fully intended to enjoy it.

That was when the air shifted.

It was subtle at first, like the room had just dropped a few degrees, or like the universe had taken a deep breath and was waiting to exhale. The air shimmered, warped—

—and then BOOM.

The front door slammed open with enough force to rattle the walls, and the sound of heavy, determined footsteps stormed through the house. Akane barely had time to register the sheer presence of the incoming force before a voice rang out, dripping with parental authority and righteous fury. 

A very, very familiar someone.

“Ah-ha!” Future Akane’s voice rang out, sharp and full of suspicion, as she stood dramatically in the doorway. Her hands were planted firmly on her hips, her belly now very noticeably rounded under her loose yukata, and her eyes zeroed in on Akane like a homing missile.

Akane blinked. “Uh.”

Future Akane stomped forward. “Akane. What have you been doing?”

Akane’s good mood evaporated instantly. “Wh—what do you mean?”

Future Akane pointed an accusatory finger at her, then at the shirt she was wearing, then back at her face. “You know exactly what I mean.”

“I—I do not!” Akane protested, taking a step back. “I just—! We only—!”

Before she could find the words to defend herself, a small voice piped up from behind Future Akane’s legs. 

“Mama?”

Akane froze. Her eyes dropped to the tiny figure peeking out from behind Future Akane’s yukata. 

A little girl—no older than a year and a half—blinked up at her, sleepily rubbing one eye with a tiny fist. She had soft black hair pulled into tiny, uneven pigtails, round cheeks, and a deeply familiar scowl that looked way too much like Ranma’s. 

Future Akane sighed dramatically and stepped aside. “Akane, meet Himiko. Your daughter.”

Akane made a choked noise. 

“I—We—I WHAT?!” Akane sputtered, pointing wildly between Future Akane, the toddler, and herself. 

“Mama!” Himiko repeated, this time with more enthusiasm. She waddled forward, her stubby little arms outstretched, making a determined beeline for Akane. 

Akane, still frozen, barely had time to react before the tiny girl latched onto her legs and hugged tight. “Food?” Himiko asked sweetly, looking up at her with big, pleading eyes. “I want food.”

Akane made another strangled noise.

Future Akane, looking far too pleased with herself, just folded her arms. “So,” she said, smirking, “what exactly have you and Ranma been up to?”

Akane opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. And then she did the only reasonable thing she could do in this situation: She fainted. 

====

Ranma exhaled slowly, shifting his stance as he moved through a series of katas in the quiet solitude of the training hall. His muscles flowed through each movement with instinctive ease, but his mind was elsewhere. Specifically, on her.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t figured Akane was cute. Or strong. Or fun to mess with. But now? Now, it was different. He felt good around her in a way that he didn’t really understand, like something in his chest settled whenever she smiled at him. And after tonight…

His footwork faltered for just a second, a grin creeping onto his face despite himself. Maybe, just maybe, the future versions of themselves had a point. If things turned out the way they had for those two, maybe he was making all the right choices without even realizing it.

That was a weirdly reassuring thought.

He shifted his weight, spinning into a back elbow strike—

—and it stopped.

Dead.

Ranma barely had time to process the block before he saw her—his own future self, in girl form, standing just behind him with an unimpressed scowl. Her palm was firmly planted against his elbow, stopping the strike mid-motion like it was nothing.

"Unbelievable," Future-Ranma muttered, pushing his arm aside with an air of sheer exasperation. "What exactly were you thinking tonight?"

Ranma blinked, still caught halfway between confusion and reflexive defensiveness. "What do you mean, what was I thinking?"

Future-Ranma crossed her arms, staring him down. "Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that you let things spiral completely out of control without stopping to think about what might happen?" She jabbed a finger into his chest. "Sometimes, I swear, it's a miracle you manage to make it to being me."

Ranma scowled, rubbing his chest where she poked him. "Hey, what are you even talking about? I didn’t do anything wrong!"

Future-Ranma let out a long-suffering sigh, dragging a hand down her face. "Right. Of course. You didn’t do anything wrong. That’s why Akane's —ugh, forget it! Look, just… don’t be an idiot about this, alright?"

Ranma frowned, crossing his arms. "Tch. Fine. Whatever."

Future-Ranma sighed again, pinching the bridge of her nose like she was getting a headache. "You're lucky things turn out okay, but wow, you do not make it easy on yourself."

Ranma tilted his head, a small smirk forming. "So what you're saying is, I do end up handling things right in the end?"

Future-Ranma groaned louder, throwing her hands up. "Not the point! God, no wonder Akane got mad at me all the time!"

As a note from the author, did you ever see that Red Dwarf episode where Rimmer has to bunk with a copy of himself and they drive each other absolutely up the wall? Just bringing that up for no reason, at all.