Story: Pride and Joy

 

Soun Tendo must have gone to Egypt, cuz that guy is swimming in denial right about now. He pretty much had to be. I mean. All three of his daughters were being dicked on the regular by his future son-in-law. Not one of them. Not just the one that would marry him. All three of them. And three other girls as well. They weren't exactly subtle about it. They were fairly obvious really. Genma had noticed, and he's not exactly the brightest spot around himself.

It was the idea of it, you see. He was overprotective by nature, likely in part owing to how young they'd been when their mother died. Soun loved that woman (who we don't know the name of) with all of his heart even to this day, and he missed her so terribly. He could see a little of her in each of his daughters. Kasumi's gentleness, Nabiki's intelligence, Akane's sheer force of will... Each of them together made up the living ghost of his wife. He loved them, but it also hurt to see them sometimes.

The living room of the Tendo dojo had been transformed into what could only be described as a scene from an alternate dimension where neon pink, leopard print, and an excessive amount of glitter were not only fashion choices but mandatory by law. The faint smell of hair dye and aggressively fruity perfume lingered in the air, battling for supremacy with the more traditional scent of tatami mats and incense.

Nabiki, the middle sister, lounged on the couch, her legs crossed and her newly dyed blonde hair cascading down her shoulders in an ostentatious display of deliberate defiance against all things natural. Her nails, painted a shade of hot pink that was possibly visible from space, tapped against her smartphone as she scrolled through the latest trends in gyaru fashion.

Akane, the youngest, sat cross-legged on the floor, staring at her reflection in a compact mirror. She pouted, then smiled, then pouted again, as though trying to decide which expression best conveyed the proper level of rebellious indifference. Her eyeliner was so thick it could double as war paint, and the glitter in her hair shimmered with a kind of defiant brilliance that suggested she had recently raided the arts and crafts cupboard and decided it was time for a change.

Kasumi, the eldest, was perhaps the most disturbing transformation of all. Her usual serene expression had been replaced with a sultry pout that seemed entirely at odds with the universe as a whole. Her hair, normally tied back in a modest and practical style, now fell in voluminous waves, complete with streaks of electric blue. She hummed a pop song under her breath, her voice dripping with uncharacteristic sass.

In the corner of the room, Genma Saotome, in his usual panda form, tried to make himself as inconspicuous as possible—a difficult feat when one is a 300-pound bear in a house that had clearly lost its grip on sanity. His large, beady eyes darted nervously between the girls and Soun, his old friend and currently the most deluded man in Nerima.

Soun Tendo sat at the head of the low dining table, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands clenched tightly around his tea cup as if willing the universe to bend to his will. “My daughters,” he said, his voice wavering, “are simply going through a phase. This is normal. Perfectly normal.”

Genma raised a sign that read, “THEY HAVE BLUE HAIR, SOUN.”

Soun’s eyes remained shut. “Kasumi’s hair has always been a lovely shade of black. Maybe brown. But certainly not blue. That would be… ridiculous.”

Kasumi blew a bubblegum bubble that expanded to an improbable size before popping with a sound that seemed to punctuate Soun’s denial like the universe itself was trying to get a word in edgewise.

“This is not a phase, Daddy,” Nabiki said, her voice dripping with a kind of bored disdain that she had perfected somewhere between the second and third layers of mascara. “This is who we are now. Deal with it.”

Akane nodded vigorously, the movement sending a cascade of glitter onto the floor. “Yeah, Dad. It’s like, totally the new us.”

Soun opened one eye, squinting at Akane as though trying to reconcile this statement with the image of his youngest daughter smashing through a cinder block with her bare hands. He promptly closed it again, deciding that the world was far less troubling when he simply refused to see it.

“It’s just a phase,” he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

Kasumi slid up beside him, resting a hand on his shoulder in what might have been a comforting gesture if not for the fact that her nails were now the length of small knives. “Daddy, you should be proud of us. We’re expressing our individuality.”

Soun let out a strangled noise that might have been a laugh or a sob. “Yes… individuality. That’s what this is. Nothing to worry about…”

Genma, still holding his sign, considered knocking Soun out with a well-placed paw, but decided against it. After all, it wasn’t every day that one got to witness the complete breakdown of reality from the sidelines. Besides! Rendering him unconscious would only help until the man was conscious again.

“Y’know,” Nabiki began, her voice taking on a casual, almost lazy tone as she tossed her smartphone aside. “Since Ranma’s not here right now, maybe we should talk about how we’re gonna handle him when he does get back.”

Kasumi, who had been admiring her electric blue nails, looked up with an innocent smile that didn’t quite reach her heavily mascaraed eyes. “Oh, you mean how we’ll share him?”

Akane, who had been attempting to perfect her pout, paused and looked between her sisters with a curious tilt of her head. “Share Ranma? Like… take turns?”

Nabiki grinned, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Exactly. I mean, why fight over him when we could just—y’know—work out a schedule?”

Kasumi clapped her hands together, her expression brightening with excitement that was decidedly out of character for her usual calm demeanour. “That’s such a great idea, Nabiki! We could make a rota. I’ll take the mornings since I’m always up early to make breakfast.”

Akane frowned, clearly torn between her inherent distaste for anything that sounded like an agreement with her sisters and the sudden allure of this new, cooperative approach. “Well… I guess I could take the afternoons. I could make him do martial arts training with me.”

Nabiki leaned back on the couch, looking immensely pleased with herself. “Perfect. I’ll take the evenings then. I’ve got some ideas on how to… entertain him.”

At this, Soun Tendo, who had been holding onto his rapidly fraying sense of reality like a man gripping the last shred of sanity in a world gone mad, suddenly sat bolt upright. His eyes were wide with a mixture of panic and disbelief, his tea cup long forgotten and now rolling sadly across the tatami.

“W-what did you just say?” Soun stammered, his voice cracking as he looked at his daughters with the horrified realisation that they were not, in fact, discussing a chore chart.

“Oh, don’t worry, Daddy,” Kasumi said sweetly, patting his arm in a way that was clearly meant to be reassuring but only served to deepen the furrow in Soun’s brow. “It’s just a practical solution. There’s no need for us to fight over Ranma when we can all enjoy his company.”

Soun’s mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for air, his mind unable to process the sheer wrongness of what he was hearing. “This… this is just a phase. You’re just… confused, that’s all.”

Nabiki rolled her eyes, a look of exasperation crossing her face as she twirled a lock of blonde hair around her finger. “Oh, come on, Dad. We’re not confused. We’re just being logical. You wouldn’t want us fighting all the time, right? This way, everyone’s happy.”

Akane nodded in agreement, though her expression still had a touch of competitive fire. “Besides, it’s not like Ranma could handle all three of us at once. I mean, even he’s not that good.”

Kasumi giggled, a sound that would have been charming if it weren’t for the underlying implication of her words. “And it’ll give us a chance to really bond, don’t you think? Sisterly cooperation!”

Soun’s mind raced for an explanation, any explanation that would make this situation fit within the realm of normality. “But… but what about your honour? Your reputation?”

Nabiki waved a dismissive hand, her tone dripping with so much nonchalance that, if any of them got the mind to, they'd use it to cake their faces in another layer of makeup. “Honor’s all well and good, but Ranma’s too important to get hung up on outdated concepts. We’ll handle this our way.”

Soun’s eye twitched as he looked around the room, desperately seeking some semblance of normality. Genma, ever the pragmatic panda, had taken the opportunity to edge closer to the door, clearly ready to bolt should the situation escalate any further.

The girls, meanwhile, continued their discussion with the kind of enthusiasm usually reserved for planning a weekend getaway. Except they were talking about sharing a single boy between them.

“Maybe we could even make it a bit of a competition,” Akane suggested, her eyes lighting up with the prospect of turning this arrangement into something resembling a sport. Even cursed to become a gyaru, this was what Akane was like. “See who can make Ranma the happiest.”

Kasumi clasped her hands together, her expression positively glowing with enthusiasm. “That sounds so fun! We could even keep score!”

Nabiki’s grin widened as she considered the potential profits from such a scheme. “And we could have bets. I’m sure Ranma’s dad would be in on that. Right, Mr. Saotome?”

Genma, sensing the attention on him, quickly held up a sign that read, “NO COMMENT,” and began inching toward the door with renewed urgency.

Soun, now pale and trembling, stood up abruptly, his voice rising in pitch as he clung to the last thread of denial he could muster. “This… this is all a terrible dream! Yes, that’s it! I’m just dreaming! Any moment now, I’ll wake up, and everything will be normal again! Ahahahaha!”

The Tendo sisters exchanged glances, then shrugged in unison.

“If you say so, Daddy,” Kasumi said cheerfully. “But when you wake up, don’t be surprised if Ranma’s still on the schedule.”

Soun let out a strangled whimper and staggered toward the door, where Genma had already slipped out in hopes of escaping the madness. As he stumbled outside, his mind clung desperately to the belief that this was all some elaborate nightmare. Because if it wasn’t, the alternative was simply too horrifying to contemplate.

Back inside, the Tendo sisters continued to chatter about their new arrangement, blissfully unaware—or perhaps unconcerned—that they had driven their father to the brink of a nervous breakdown. After all, what was a little sibling rivalry when there was a fiancé to share?