"Truth" is something I had always wanted to do for a while - a story
from Akane's point of view.  Enjoy.

Comments and crits are welcome.

Ranma 1/2 = (C) of Shogakukan

"Truth"
By WebDragon

                                  "TRUTH"

     I became aware of the morning sun as a bright red glare against
my shut eyelids.  It drew me unwillingly from the depths of sleep and
into wakefulness.  Well, not exactly wakefulness but I was awake
enough to grumble sleepily into my pillow and turn away from the
source of light.

     Birds chirped outside my window, their song riding the cold
morning air as it swept past the curtains and blew on my back,
making me shiver and pull my blanket over myself.  I searched for P-
chan, but he was missing again.  Oh well, he'll always be back.

     I lay in bed and tried to return back to my dream but, failing
that, I finally opened my eyes and blinked the sleepiness from them,
stifling a yawn as I did.  The clock on my desk told me that it was
nine in the morning and that it was Sunday.  There was a faint knock
on my door, almost as if the person on the other side of it had known
exactly when to make his or her presence known.  

     "Akane-chan, are you awake?", came Kasumi's voice.  Not in
the least surprised, I rolled out of bed and smoothed my nightdress on
the way to the door.  I opened it and looked into Kasumi s face,
smiling as usual.  For an irrational instant I imagined that I was
looking into my mother s face, but the thought vanished along with
the last dredges of my sleepiness when I noticed that Kasumi had a
hint of seriousness in her eyes.

     "Akane-chan, could you please wake up Ranma and Mr.
Saotome?  It s really important."

     "How important, Kasumi?  You know how Ranma likes to sleep
like a log...."

     "His mother's here and she's downstairs."

     Instantly I tore out of my room, grabbed the ever-present bucket
of cold water by my doorway and ran as quickly as I could to
Ranma's room without spilling a drop.  His mother's here?!  Right
now?!  How typical of Kasumi to announce that little tidbit of
information like *that*!  Without a pause nor any token courtesy to
knock, I burst in and mercilessly drenched Ranma and his father with
the water.

     "Wake up, Ranma!!", I whispered as loud as I dared to, "your
mom s here!"

     Ranma-chan was, by this time, awake and sputtering.  She
slicked the red hair from her face and peered up from behind the wet
panda that had been her father.  

     "W-what?", she stammered.

     "Your mom's here!!", I said before leaving the room and
shutting the door behind me.  THAT ought to wake her up, if nothing
else.  It would be hard to sleep with the threat of death hanging over
her head in the form of the Saotome family katana, now wouldn't it?

     I dressed up, finished my morning toiletry, and went downstairs
to greet Ranma's mother, a welcome sight (to me anyways) as she did
remind me of my own mother more than Kasumi did.  As I had heard
from Kasumi, my mother and Ranma s mom had been great friends
and they had often spent much time together cooking up new recipes,
or just talking about life in general.  

     I heard a door open behind me and I see Ranma-chan, still in
her sleeveless shirt and her boxers, inch over to the edge of the stairs
and look down at the figure of her mother.  

     "C'mon, Ranko.  Let's go say good morning to Mrs. Saotome,
shall we?", I said in a light tone of voice.

     Ranma-chan cast me a dark look, but it passed and she slowly
descended the flight of stairs alongside me.  

     "Why, Akane-chan and Ranko-chan!  Good morning!", Mrs.
Saotome said with a smile on her face, cheerfulness and calm
radiating from her.

     "Good morning, Auntie Saotome!", I said in greeting.

     "G-Good morning.", stammered Ranma-chan, scratching her
head with both hands and exposing a bit of her chest as she did so.

     "Ranko-chan, I'm not angry at you or disappointed but I really
do think you should wear something that will cover you up a little
more.  You're a girl and walking around in a sleeveless t-shirt and
boys' boxers is not what girls do.  And girls don't scratch their
heads, not while in public.  Okay, Ranko-chan?  Now, would you
like to help me out in the kitchen for a little while?"
     
     A change came over Ranma-chan's features.  Her face
transformed into a mask of pain, seeming to hide deeper levels of
pain within her.  She dropped her hands to her sides and she nodded
in reply to her mother's words, her bangs hiding the expression on
her face; her mom smiled and returned to the kitchen.  Ranma-chan
heaved a little sigh and glanced over at me, as if to see if I had
noticed that sudden wave of emotion that had just swept across her,
but I pretended not to notice and she followed her mother into the
kitchen.

     I stepped up to the kitchen and poked my head inside.  Ranma-
chan was just putting an apron around her waist while her mom
bustled busily around.  Then Mrs. Saotome turned to me.

     "Akane-chan, put on an apron and come around to help us, will
you?"

     "Uh...Mrs. Saotome?  I have to go work out, you know, to
keep in shape and all that.  That's why I'm...."

     "That's okay, dear.  Ranko?  Why don't you help me for about
ten minutes then you go and work out with Akane?  We wouldn't
want you to lose your figure - otherwise what would your future
husband think of you when he sees you?"

     "Yeah.  Sure.  Husband, that's it.", said Ranma-chan in a dull
voice.  "Akane, I'll join ya in, like, ten minutes or so...."

     "Ranko-chan.  Young ladies don't use `ya' in place of `you', it's
just not how young ladies ought to speak."

     I left at that moment and I went to ask Kasumi if she could help
out Mrs. Saotome in the kitchen, so that Ranma-chan could join me
sooner.  Kasumi agreed to do so and I went to get my gi.

     After putting it on, and getting down to the dojo, I warmed up
and hauled out the first brick.  Placing it on the edges of the two
supports, I broke it in two with a blow of my fist and a cry of
released power.  Another five bricks followed the way of the first
before I got up and began to practice my kicks and punches, followed
by numerous katas.  

     There was nothing more satisfying than the sound of a perfectly
executed flying roundhouse kick.  The yell that preceded the sound of
my leg slashing through the air was like the lightning that heralded
thunder in a storm - the electric bolt splitting the sky asunder as the
roar of thunder rumbled across the land.  Primal, powerful, fierce -
these three attributes, among others, were the aspects of martial arts
that I could really identify with.  They motivated and propelled my
body to push itself to the limit in astounding displays of skill, almost
as if it were not me but someone else performing the various
techniques of my School.  

     Maybe that was why I usually found time to think when I was
working out, and my thoughts turned to Ranma-chan.  It was the
same every time Mrs. Saotome came over - Ranma-chan would put
on her `Ranko' identity and act like some airhead.  Yet, no matter
how convincing her acting became sometimes, I had always seen a
shadow of unhappiness pass over her features when her mom wasn't
looking at her.  A shadow that spoke of longing and loneliness,
coupled with a sense of the gulf separating her mother from her.  And
all because of that curse of hers.

     However, today was an exception.  Ranma-chan didn't act at all
like `Ranko'.  In fact, she didn't seem to care at all.  Usually, right
after her mother reminds her to act more like a girl, Ranma-chan
would stick two hands under her chin, blink cutely and squeal an
apology in that ridiculously high-pitched voice of hers.  She had done
nothing of that sort, almost as if she had wanted her mother to know
who she really was.  

     I paused for a second and considered that thought.  Then I
continued my workout.  It can't be.  Ranma-chan's scared to death
over the thought of being forced to commit seppuku if her mother
find out.  No way she's going to tell her mom.

     As I fell into the rhythm of another kata and worked on it
furiously, I became aware of a shape in the doorway of the Dojo.  It
was Ranma-chan, in her usual red shirt and black pants.  I slowed my
kata down and ground to a halt, then I looked over at her.

     She had a blank expression on her face and her arms were
crossed in front of her.  One foot lightly tapped against the other and
she seemed as if she were doing some deep thinking, for once.

     "Hey."  Immediately I thought how awkward that had sounded
and I began to rephrase my sentence when Ranma-chan held up a
hand.  I stopped, the words of a question on the tip of my tongue,
and I waited for Ranma-chan to speak her mind.

     She took some time to compose herself, clearing her throat
every once in a while and looking anywhere but me.  Then, she
stepped into the dojo and sat with her back against a wall.  Folding
her arms across her knees, she drew her legs close and stared
sightlessly at a broken piece of brick that was just in front of her feet. 


     "Akane, I want to....to tell my mom about who I really am, but
I'm afraid she wouldn't take it too well."

     Sensing Ranma-chan's need for someone to talk to, I walked
over and sat down beside her.  She didn't look in my direction,
putting all her attention on that little chunk of brick, as if she could
shatter it with the intensity of her gaze.  

     "You know, Akane, this happens....every time...my mom's
over.  Every time."

     "And you've never thought about telling her who you really are
on any of those times, Ranma, so why should today be different?"

     Ranma-chan scowled and fiddled with the material of her pants. 
Long minutes passed in silence, except for the sound of the wind as it
rustled leaves on the nearby trees, and brought the shadows of clouds
on the ground outside the dojo with a sigh.  Then Ranma-chan kicked
the piece of brick with her foot and I watched it roll away with a
clatter.  

     "I'm....I'm tired.  Tired of holding back the truth, Akane. 
I...I'm sick of this `Ranko' act.  It...it's not ME!"  She paused for a
moment.  "You know what's scary, Akane?  The fact that I've gotten
so good at being Ranko that I feel as if I could almost believe I was
her....."

     "Don't say that, Ranma....you're not Ranko!"

     "But I am.  Every time my mom's over, I'm Ranko.  When she
is not looking or when she leaves, I become Ranma, but only until
the next time.  How much more, Akane?  How much more do I have
to take before I finally tell her who I am?!  I can't go on like this!!" 
She spat out her last sentence as if it were not a part of her, as if she
was repulsed by the taste of it.

     "But you have to, Ranma!  She'll force you, and your father, to
commit seppuku!", I said with concern.  Realizing that I had
involuntarily leaned towards Ranma-chan, I quickly fell back on my
haunches and huffed a bit.  Honestly!

     "I know, and that scares me too.  But there will come a time
when she WILL find out...and....."

     "Ranko, Akane!!  Where are you two?", came Mrs. Saotome's
voice from *just* outside the dojo.  Ranma-chan started in surprise
and she stood up quickly, just as her mother entered the training hall. 
I got to my feet as well and dusted my gi off.  Usually I didn't have
to, as it was clean most of the time, but the dojo floor was dirty from
my recent use of it and a light grey dust clung to my clothing.

     "Breakfast is almost ready, you two, so finish up and come and
eat."

     "Alright!", Ranma-chan and I replied in unison.

     "Akane, let's go shopping after breakfast, alright?", added Mrs.
Saotome with a smile.

     "T-thank you, Auntie Saotome!", said I.  Shopping!  Butterflies
settled in my stomach and began to flutter around, making me all
jumpy and nervous, and anxious to finish breakfast and go shopping. 
I wondered if sale week was over yet.....perhaps I could still buy that
dress before....

     "You too, Ranko-chan."

     My train of thought was stopped dead in its tracks and I turned
to Ranma-chan with some dread.  She had a really weird expression,
almost as if disgust, anger and shame were mixed as one and slapped
on like a mask, one that was a weird parody of a human face and
grotesque to the point of making a chill travel from the base of my
spine to my shoulders and neck.

     I remembered Ranma-chan's dislike for shopping, especially for
feminine clothing, and I felt some shame at my reaction to her
mother s offer.  Mrs. Saotome smiled at the both of us and patted
Ranma-chan s head lovingly, then she turned about and started to
walk back to the house.  I was glad I couldn't see Ranma-chan's face
at that moment for I was sure it would not have been a pretty sight. 
Ranma-chan turned her head up and put her hand on the dojo's
doorway.

     She was looking after the departing figure of her mother with
fiery determination in her eyes that burnt away her previous feelings
and left a new resolution in its place.  It seemed to be a decision to
tell all, and to let all happen with no regard for herself.  Ranma-chan
took a step out of the dojo and began to call out to her mother, as if
to call her back, and I took an involuntary step towards her.  She
can't do it!!

     "Mom.....", she began in a soft voice.

     My heart leapt from my chest into my throat, but her call trailed
off into silence.  She lowered her half-raised hand and let it fall
limply to her side and her mother disappeared into the house.  

     "I...I just can't do it.  And I...."

     "Do what?  And you're....?", I asked as I stepped up to Ranma-
chan.  She said nothing and followed in her mother's footsteps, back
into the house, leaving me looking after the both of them from the
dojo doorway.

     I put the pieces of broken brick in a wheelbarrow and I swept
the dojo clean, my actions mechanical and forced, my mind a blank. 
I really wanted to skip this chore but since the day I stepped into the
dojo I was taught to keep it clean for others who might have use of it. 
And I had *worked* to keep it clean.  I remembered, when I was
little more than twelve years old, wiping the entire dojo floor with
nothing but a wet cloth and a bucket of soapy water to help me.  Dad
had made me do it while he had stood impassively outside the dojo
and watched with a critical eye as I despaired that I would never
finish the dojo floor until the end of the week!

     I had asked Dad why he made *me*, the only student he taught,
wash and clean instead of learning martial arts exclusively.  Why not
ask Nabiki, or Kasumi to clean?  He had said nothing but he
motioned me to finish the job.  Three times I had asked him
thereafter, while still wiping the floor, and three more times he
pointed downwards at the wooden floor of the dojo.  I had been less
than a quarter of a way through then, and I had said nothing more as
I cleaned, and cleaned, and cleaned.

     When I was finished, I had felt relief and....a sense of
accomplishment.  I had felt that my long and hard work had finally
paid off.  Then I had turned to my father and asked him for the fifth
time that day....

                              * * *

     "Dad, why do *I* have to clean?  I wanna get straight to the
martial arts training!", I wailed with a touch of the voice that usually
made him bow to my demands.

     "Akane, what is the true meaning of martial arts?", he said in
all seriousness.

     I had rarely seen my father act with such seriousness since mom
had passed away.  Usually he was full of lighthearted humour, and
silly but funny antics.  I don't understand why he wasn't more serious
- Kasumi had told me he wasn't like this before mom had passed
away.  At times I felt ashamed of him, and ashamed of myself for
thinking such things about my own father.  Yet, my own feelings of
guilt didn't stop me from barring visits by my friends whenever I
could.  I imagined my father whistling a happy tune as he balanced a
chopstick on his nose while my friends watched on with ridicule in
their eyes....I imagined myself being the butt of all jokes in class the
day after....

     "Martial artists protect the weak!", I said with conviction,
feeling my arm muscles as I did.  

     "That is but one aspect of the martial artist, Akane, and it is not
the one I was looking for.  Try again."

     "Martial arts is.....being able to defend yourself from attacks!" 
I punched outwards with a yell that echoed throughout the dojo.

     He shook his head, his long hair waving slightly from behind his
back, and he transfixed me with his gaze.  I felt like a butterfly or a
moth, pinned to the dojo floor by that needle-sharp look, and waited
helplessly for him to pass judgement on me.

     "Akane, martial arts is not all about fighting your physical
enemies.  It is also about fighting your internal enemies and mastering
them.  What did you learn as you were halfway through cleaning the
dojo floor?"

     "I've learnt that dust and dirt don't seem to cling to the cloth too
well unless I had dipped it in water and wringed out the dirty stuff
from before."

     He let out a small smile at my attempt to divert the flow of
conversation but it soon disappeared.  He waited for me to give him
the answer he wanted.

     I thought long and hard on his question.  What exactly did he
want me to tell him?  Not how I managed to scrub the black spot
from the middle of the dojo floor in under five seconds flat. 
Definitely not the technique I used to clean the cloth!  My mind raced
furiously, seemingly trying out all possible answers and failing to find
something that matched what my father seemed to want from me.  

     Then I thought about how I *felt* when I was halfway
through....and I had it.  I think I knew what he wanted...but there
was only one way to find out.

     "Dad, I felt like dropping to the floor and sleeping for a week,
but I...I kept on going.  And I finished the job. What do you call
that?  Determination?"

     "Discipline.  Self-control through knowing oneself.  Knowing
the truth about oneself, that is."

     "I...I don't understand."  But I felt my words to be empty and
hollow, like I was lying to myself. 

     "You do, but you just don't realize it.  You knew that there was
no way you were going to leave a job half finished.  You wanted to,
in your own words, `drop to the floor and sleep for a week', but
something kept you going.  What was that, Akane?"

     "Discipline.  Self-control through knowing oneself.  Knowing
the truth about oneself, that is", I replied with a smile on my face.

     "No need to repeat what I had said word for word, Akane.  You
controlled your desire to stop and leave the chore undone and you
saw it through to the end.  That is discipline and that is what you
have learnt today.  You've also learnt that you're hard-working, and
that is a thing to be cherished, Akane.  It is your truth, one of the
many you will pick up on your journey in life."

     "Yes, Dad."

     Seeing that I had suffered enough, he grinned and took up a
ready stance.  I....

                              * * *

     I stubbed my toe on one of the two supports on the dojo floor
and I bent down to rub the sore part.  Clumsy, clumsy.  How Dad
had managed to put up with me, I'll never know.  I put the supports
in a corner of the dojo and I left it behind me, taking my headband
off as I did so and letting my hair be caressed by the warm wind.

     After a quick shower and a change of clothing, I ducked
downstairs to see the entire family waiting for me at the table. Mr.
Panda had his snout buried in a large bowl of food scraps and kitchen
refuse - but he didn't seem hungry for some odd reason.  I was.

     With a smile, I took my seat beside Ranma-chan and we all
began to eat.  

     Ranma-chan ate like a pig, despite disapproving remarks from
her mother and warning elbows-in-the-ribs from me, and she took her
leave from the table as soon as she could without a word.

     "Akane, what is the matter with Ranko today?", asked Mrs.
Saotome.

     "I don't know, Auntie."

     Mrs. Saotome looked serious, yet calm at the same time.  It was
something that Kasumi had only done once, when she had made me
promise not to strike anyone in anger.  I snorted.  Fat lot of good
*that* promise did.  She finished munching on a shrimp piece and she
sipped at her tea.  Then she put the cup down on the table and looked
me in the eyes.

     "She keeps looking at me like she has something to tell me...but
she never does.  I did ask her what was wrong and she mumbled
something about her mother....", said Mrs. Saotome.

     I choked on a piece of my food, as did Mr. Panda, but Mrs.
Saotome didn't seem to notice.
     
     "....and she turned away from me.  Akane-chan, could you find
out what she is so unhappy about?  You're her age and maybe she
could relate better to you than to me.  I'm not even related to her but
you're her cousin, right?"

     I heard footsteps from just around the corner, as if someone had
been standing there and listening to the conversation, and the sound
faded away - like the person was walking away from the dining room. 
Ranma-chan.

     "Akane-chan?"

     "Alright, Auntie Saotome", I said with a sigh, "I'll ask hi...err,
her."
     
     Sometime after breakfast I found Ranma-chan sitting on a rock
by the side of the pond, watching her father in panda-form play with
an old tire.  She seemed to be wrestling with some inner decision -
probably wondering if she should tell her mother the truth.  This was
quite unusual for Ranma-chan but I guess there are exceptions,
especially today.  I walked up to Ranma-chan and I lowered myself
beside her, smoothing out my skirt and adjusting the knapsack on my
back.  She said nothing and she tossed a small stone into the pond,
scattering the carp in all directions except up and out of the water.  I
waited a few minutes before I ventured to speak.

     "Ranma, cheer up.  She won't be here for long and she'll be
gone before you know it."

     "Akane, how can I cheer up when I'm gonna be putting on
dresses and skirts and all those...those *girly* clothes?!"  Her voice
had a tinge of indignation that underlined her humiliation and
unhappiness.  Obviously she wanted no part of her mother's designs
for `Ranko' and she knew how to whine about it.  

     "It will only be for a while, Ranma."

     "Doesn't matter.  I don't want to play dress up."

     "Stop acting like a kid and face it, Ranma.  You're gonna have
to act like Ranko while your mom's here and that's that.  Unless you
feel tired of life, that is."

     Ranma-chan shifted so that she was looking away from me, her
gaze focused on the horizon where a couple of birds soared in the
sky.  She sighed as she watched the birds wheel and swoop and dive
in the air, free as can be.

     "Come on!", I said while trying to put some happiness and
excitement in my voice, "Let's go shopping already, Ranma!"

     "Shopping is for girls and I'm not one."

     "You go out with Hiroshi and Daisuke to the mall and buy stuff. 
What do you call *that*?"

     "It's different.  I'm a guy."

     "No it's not.  It's still shopping."  Seeing that she wouldn't
budge, I decided to go about it differently.  "Besides, you shouldn't
let shopping be that much of a big deal to you, Ranma.  I mean,
you're Ranko now and you're gonna have to act like her. 
Remember, Ranko loved shopping and your mom knows it.  If you
don't...."

     "You're just saying that because shopping is such a big deal to
*you*, Akane.  You just wanna go *right now* and you're tired of
waiting for me.  I saw how excited you were when my mom asked
you if you wanted to go shopping.  Besides, what does a tomboy like
you want with female clothing anyways?  They probably won't fit on
you, or something."

     I felt the blossoming of anger unfold within my heart.  Scarlet,
crimson anger.  How....how dare she?!  Here I am trying to help
*her* and she's lashing out at me!  But, I swallowed my fury and
placed a hand on her shoulder.

     "Ranma, that's not....."

     She knocked my hand off of her with her arm and prepared to
sulk.  Then she turned around with the realization of what she had
just done.  I rubbed the spot where her hand had struck mine and I
stood up to leave.  

     If she wanted to be like this, then *fine*!!  She can tell her
mom anything for all I care!  

     "Akane.....I...I didn't mean that....!", she began as she reached
out a hand to me.

     I turned my back and left her.  Serves her right.

     Twenty minutes later, Ranma-chan, her mother and I left for the
mall.  Ranma-chan was still dressed in her usual red shirt and black
pants, despite her mother's suggestion that `a young lady should wear
a dress'.  She and I kept throwing dirty glances at each other, and I
actually found myself sticking my tongue out at her in reply to one of
her looks.  Then we stepped into the hustle and bustle of the mall and
we stepped into the first store we saw that had the words `Sale' in its
windows in large red letters.  

     "May I help you?", asked the saleswoman as we three walked
in.  I smiled to her and she smiled back.  I was almost like a regular
customer in this store and she knew me by appearance, if not by
name.  Mrs. Saotome turned to Ranma-chan.

     "Well, Ranko-chan?  Would you like to try on a dress?", she
said.  I saw my opportunity for revenge.

     "Yes, Ranko-chan!  Why don't you try this dress on?" I said as
I picked a dark green cheongsam from a rack.  Like many other
cheongsams, it had a slit up either of its sides and it was somewhat
form-hugging.  It seemed to shimmer with a promise of instant
sexuality, female sexuality that is, and it felt as smooth as silk.  I
grinned as I saw how lowly cut the bosom was....and I presented it to
a furiously blushing Ranma-chan with a sly look on my face.  Try
*this* on for size, Ranma!

     Through a combination of peer pressure, Ranma-chan finally
bowed to our combined demands and she retired to a dressing room
with the dress, casting me an angry look before she drew the curtain
shut.  Inside, I smirked with satisfaction as I could hear Ranma-
chan's grumblings from behind the curtain.  Yes, Ranma-chan, don't
you just *enjoy* being a girl?

     My satisfaction faded away when the curtain opened again and
Ranma-chan stepped out in her dress.  In all of my best days....I
couldn't hope to look like *that*!  I didn't know if jealousy, envy, or
both had dug their dark claws into me but I knew that I was not
pleased.  My plan had backfired on me.
     
     Ranma-chan seemed to notice my discomfort and she quickly
picked up on its source.  She smiled evilly and turned to her mom.

     "Auntie Saotome....wouldn't you like to see Akane-chan in the
same dress?"

     NO!!!  I....I'd be embarrassed!  But the look from Mrs.
Saotome was hard to challenge.  What she wants, she usually gets,
and this was no exception.  I sighed under her matronly gaze and I
picked the same dress.  I could hear Ranma-chan stifling a giggle as I
pulled the curtain shut in the dressing room.  

     Inside the dressing room, confined by three walls and the red
curtain, I reflected on my behaviour towards Ranma-chan.  Hindsight
provided an excellent view of how to go about apologizing to Ranma-
chan, as my plan DID backfire, but it did not excuse my treatment of
her.  I had lost sight of what I had set out to do, and that was to help
Ranma-chan through her mother's visit.  

     Pulling off my clothing, I put the cheongsam on, doing the
shoulder buttons up as quickly as I could, and I stepped out of the
dressing room with no small amount of anxiety.  Ranma-chan took a
look at me and her eyes crinkled in silent laughter.  WHY
THAT.....!

     "Akane dear.  You've misbuttoned the dress.....", said Mrs.
Saotome as she stepped up to me and fixed the problem.  Ranma-chan
peeked around her mom and gave me an insulting grin, sticking her
tongue out at me as she did so.  I swear, my face was so red I
thought I could cook eggs just by using the side of my cheek as a
frying pan.  Mrs. Saotome stood me and Ranma-chan side by side, in
front of a mirror.

     "Why, Akane-chan!  Ranko-chan!  You two look very good in
them!", she exclaimed.

     Her words gave me little reassurance as I mentally compared
Ranma-chan's figure to mine.  She...she was just slightly slimmer and
looked at home in the dress while I fidgeted and constantly adjusted
imaginary creases in mine.  Her chest *was* bigger than mine, which
was a hard thing to admit to myself.  Imagine that....Ranma-chan was
better built than me, and she is not even a `real' girl!  My temper
began boiling over again.  Seeing where my gaze went, Ranma-chan
mouthed the word `pervert' at me and she grinned from ear to ear.  

     Resisting the urge to slam a mallet on her head and be done
with the whole thing, I got back in the dressing room and changed
back to my normal clothing.  I stepped out and hung the dress back
on its rack, and turned to Ranma-chan and her mother.

     "Well?  Shall we go to another store?", I asked.

     "Ranko-chan, did you like that dress?", asked Mrs. Saotome.

     "Um....I guess so....", said Ranma-chan uncertainly.

     "Then we'll get it", said Mrs. Saotome as she motioned towards
the dressing room at Ranma-chan.  Then, when Ranma-chan was
behind curtains, Mrs. Saotome paid for the dress.  After that, the
three of us roamed from store to store, buying whatever we fancied.  

     Thanks to Mrs. Saotome, I finally bought that dress I had been
itching to get for ages.  Ranma-chan snorted in disdain as she eyed
me in my new dress, probably mentally comparing me to a rhino in
womens' clothing.  The very thought of that was both funny and
insulting at the same time - and that was the only reason why Ranma-
chan didn't get whacked on the spot.

     I struggled to remind myself that Ranma-chan was going through
a hard time but it was tough to do so, especially when Ranma-chan
was rubbing salt in the wound.  I did congratulate myself on not
hitting her once for the entire day, though.

     We got tired of shopping and after a quick meal, all paid for by
Mrs. Saotome, the three of us returned home late in the afternoon. 
My dad and Mr. Panda were playing shogi when we returned, and
Kasumi was out grocery shopping.  Nabiki was nowhere to be seen,
no doubt cooking up a plan for profit somewhere away from the
Tendo household.

     My bad mood hadn't disappeared since I had returned from the
mall and entered my room, shopping bags in hand.  I felt it gnawing
away at my soul, draining me of strength as I spent more and more
energy fuelling and stoking the flames of anger, which flared and
burned out of control.  I was unable to stop and when I tried to, an
image of Ranma-chan in her new cheongsam, smiling and smirking
condescendingly at me, sprang forth from my mind and danced
tauntingly before my eyes.  That...that jerk!!
     
     Seeing no way to solve my problems, I grabbed my gi and
pulled my clothing off.  I shrugged the comfortable uniform on and I
tightened the sash around my waist with a jerk of my hands. 
Whenever I was angry over something, I usually found relief in
breaking a couple dozen bricks with my bare hands, and today was no
exception.  Ranma, you fool!!  

     I stepped out of my room - and into Ranma-chan's path.  She
had a tired and haggard look on her face that I hadn't noticed before,
as we had hardly exchanged glances when we were walking home,
and her whole body posture suggested despair.  Her arms, hanging
limply by her side, clutched a bag of feminine clothing with
reluctance.  She looked up at me and her expression changed to
something that bordered on insulting.  Why, that.....!!

     "Well, if it isn't Akane.  Do you feel better after asking my
mom to buy all those clothes for me?", she asked me with a touch of
sarcasm.  "I sure hope you felt good, because my mother wasted
money buying clothing I would never wear in my entire life."

     I ignored that and I went straight to the event that had sparked
the whole thing in the first place.

     "*Idiot*!!  I had wanted to help you in the first place, before we
went shopping, but YOU thought all I had in mind was shopping
you...you...."

     "What makes you think I need *your* help, you uncute, unsexy,
macho tomboy?!  You don't even know how *I* feel!!"

     I tore my gaze from her and I stomped downstairs.  Fool!!

     Stepping inside the dojo, I didn't even warm up before hauling
the bricks out.  I placed five bricks on the two platforms at once, and
I drove my fist through all of them with a yell.  I dusted my hands
off and smashed another five, using them as an outlet for my anger. 
Another five followed the way of the first ten and I dusted my hands
off for the second time.

     Suddenly tiring of the bricks, I got up and began to perform my
katas.  Perhaps they could take hold of my mind and body and leech
the bad feelings out of me with hard exercise and sweat.

     As the katas took a hold of me, I again found myself with time
to think.  Strange how one can think clearer when kicks and punches
pull the mind and body together in harmony.  I let my thoughts flow
back almost four years ago, to the time when all that had mattered in
my life were school and martial arts, and not.....

                                   * * *

     Dad dodged another of my punches and he somersaulted out of
attack range, landing on his feet like a cat.  I launched myself in a
leap kick, my shoulder length hair flying, but he was not there,
having leapt over me.  Landing from my leap kick, I twisted about
and prepared to deliver a roundhouse kick but I was swept from
beneath by a deft leg.  Falling and rolling, I got up and threw a
punch blindly in my father's direction but I missed and he trapped my
arm.  Using his leverage and strength, he forced me down in an
armlock and he held me on the edge of pain.

     "Give up yet, Akane?"

     "Alright, alright, dad!  You win!"

     He let me go and he stood back.  I got up and began to dust
myself off, but I noticed that I had done such a good job on the dojo
floor that there was no dirt on my gi.  He grinned and I smiled back. 
I had learnt to clean floors this day, if nothing else!

     There was a knock on the dojo door and Kasumi poked her head
into the dojo.

     "Akane, there's a call for you.  It's Sayuri."

     "Thanks, Kasumi."

     Kasumi smiled and walked back into the house.  I ran over to
the far end of the dojo and plugged a phone in.  We kept a phone in
the dojo but telephone calls were distracting to training, so we had it
unplugged.  I picked the phone up and I heard Kasumi put her phone
down.

     "Hello, Sayuri?", I asked.
     
     "Akane!!  Me and Haruko were wondering if we could come
over and have a sleepover or something!!  We've never actually done
something like that in your house and we're just wondering if you
would let us...."

     "Umm.....", I said intelligently as I glanced at my father.  He
seemed serious now, but come night he was usually so much sillier
and playful.  That was not the image I wanted to give to my friends. 
He looked over in my direction and I decided to speak to Sayuri at a
later date and in a more private place.  "I'll....uh...call you back
later, ok?"

     "Alright, but don't take too long!  We'll be waiting!!  Bye!!" 
Sayuri hung up and I did too.  Then I smiled at my father and I began
to leave the dojo.

     "Wait, Akane."

     I turned back with a feeling of dread.  Did he know how I felt
about having friends over?  Did he know I didn't want them to see
him?  I braced myself for a scolding, and a lecture on fidelity and
whatnot.

     Instead, his face became quite sad, and his eyes took on a
faraway look.  He walked slowly over to me and I halted, like a doe
that was caught by the headlights of an oncoming car and unable to
move or run away.  I waited expectedly for the tongue lashing.

     "Akane.....why do you suppose I never see your friends come
over for a visit?"
     
     "Umm....dad....!"

     "Is it because your poor old dad acts so silly at times?  Are you
afraid that I would make you the laughingstock of the school?"

     Here it was, the scolding.  Oh well, `batten all hatches and ride
out the storm' as they say, and I prepared to do so.

     "Forgive me, Akane."

     What?  I looked up at my father and I saw tears gathering in his
eyes.  This was no ordinary thing to make him cry like that.  In fact,
I thought I recognized those tears.  He usually cried like that
whenever he was thinking about mom.....

     "Dad.....", I began in earnest.  

     "Akane, my youngest daughter.  Do you want to know why I'm
so silly?  It is because I have accepted the...the truth that your mom
is...no longer with us."  He paused for a second and he wiped his
eyes.  And so did I.  "I figured that if I went through my days with
joy and song, and happiness and laughter, I would pay better tribute
to her memory than just sitting around and crying all day and night. 
I...I have three beautiful daughters, and I have to look after them. 
You are what I have left and I can t neglect the three of you while
clinging to what had been.  Still, considering all that has
happened....what more could I ask for?  What more?"

     What more, indeed.

     "Of all my three daughters, you're the one who most resembles
your mother.  If your hair was short, like hers had been, you would
be the spitting image of her.  Kasumi may be just like her around the
house, but you're like her when she was younger.  When she and I
had met for the first time, that is."  He paused for a second.  "Of my
daughters, you would better understand what I'm about to say."

     "G..Go on, dad."

     "All these years, I have held my tears back with something. 
What is that something, Akane?"

     "Determination?"

     "Discipline.  Self-control through truth.  I accepted that what
was done, was done and I felt better because of that.  There is no
way I could...bring her back but...the beautiful thing about life is that
you can look forward to the future when the pain and suffering has
been dulled by time."  

     He stopped for a second and looked at the sky outside the dojo,
up into the clouds.

     "Sometimes, Akane, you have to admit the truth to yourself. 
You can't let other things weigh your final decision down.  You have
to look deep within yourself and accept what you see there as the
truth, for you cannot lie to yourself.  I realized that.  Instead of
holding onto the past, I let it go and I moved on with life.  I think
that your mother would have wanted it that way."

     He blinked away tears.

     "But that doesn't mean that you...you don't feel sad, sometimes. 
Right, dad?", I asked tentatively, treading where others had feared to
tread.  Nobody outside the family had ever asked my father about my
mother's passing, respecting his privacy and sorrow.

     "Right, Akane.  Right."  He wiped the moisture around his eyes
with the sleeve of his gi and he put on a jovial face.  "So, what about
your friends, Akane?  Are they still coming over?  I'll get Kasumi to
make some treats for you and them....and you know how good her
treats are, Akane....", he trailed off on his promise to ask Kasumi to
make sweets.

     I was already reaching for the phone with a smile on my face.  

                                   * * *

     The first sleepover had been the best.  We had Kasumi's treats
and sweets, and I remembered stuffing my face full that night.  And
we had told each other stories, my story being the one about cleaning
the dojo with a rag cloth and a bucket of soapy water, and we all
laughed and had fun.  It was great.  Great.

     I slowed my kata and I stopped altogether.  And I suddenly felt
so much better.  All my anger at Ranma-chan's behaviour, and mine,
was gone.  I remembered my father's words of four years ago and I
repeated them.  Admit the truth to yourself.  

     I lowered myself to the floor and hugged my legs to my chest. 
It was still late afternoon outside and all I could hear were crickets
chirping, the sound of their calls cutting through the pleasant heat of
the day.  I turned my thoughts inward.....and faced the truth.

     The truth was....I had failed to stay with Ranma-chan.  Even
when she had forced me away with that careless hand motion, I still
should have stuck by her side.  I had failed to comfort Ranma-chan in
her hour of need and now she might be unhappy enough to come out
with the truth and tell her mother who she really is.  She had looked
drained and tired, lost and lonely with no one to comfort her and
make her feel better.  *I* was supposed to have been the one to stay
with her, but I had shirked my duty.

     An image of the Saotome family katana came to mind.  Three
feet of cold steel, razor sharp and gleaming in the morning sun, held
aloft by Mrs. Saotome in a two handed grip as she stared impassively
down upon Mr. Saotome and Ranma in their ceremonial death
clothes, their tantos held to their bellies and expressions of resignment
on their faces.....  

     I left the dojo in a dead run, a clammy feeling already settling
about my shoulders. 

     I entered the living room and I saw Ranma-chan sitting by the
table, a steaming tea kettle beside her.   My dad and Ranma-chan's
dad were nowhere to be seen.  I heard two voices from the kitchen,
probably Mrs. Saotome and Kasumi.

     "So, you've decided to come back, Akane.  Well, you're just in
time."

     "Just in time for what?  What are you planning to do?"  But I
already knew what she was going to do, and it gave me a sick feeling
deep within me.

     "Akane, I'm...I'm sick of being Ranko.  I'm going to tell her
who I am, once and for all, and we'll see what happens then...!"

     "Ranma.....!"

     "Do you know how much I had to go through while you were in
the dojo?  I was asked to put on that dress for Kasumi, Mr. Tendo
and *dad* to see!  Imagine me, Ranma!  In a dress!" 

     I can well imagine and I was about to say it but I wisely kept
my mouth shut.

     She gritted her teeth and clutched the tea kettle with new
purpose.  The kettle certainly looked hot.  She saw where my gaze
was directed and she smiled.  "More than hot enough to do the job,
Akane."

     "But....Ranma!  Aren't you afraid that she will make you and
your father commit seppuku?"  

     "I don't care.  I want to tell her the truth."

     I balked at that.  Was the truth the best thing for this sort of
situation?  I thought my martial arts training had taught me to look
for the truth within myself......yet, was this the truth that was within
Ranma-chan's self?  Did she truly want to tell her mother that Ranko
had really been Ranma all the while?  I looked at Ranma-chan with
new eyes, trying to fit my logic to hers.

     "Ranma.....you don't want to die, do you?"  She looked at me
suspiciously.  

     "What do you mean by that?", she asked.

     "I mean......you're not afraid of dying?"

     "Hell, yes!!  I'm afraid of dying!", she retorted with a look that
seemed to imply that I was an idiot to ask her that question.  But, in
that look I could see another, deeper fear.  That fear was more
connected to Ranma-chan's nature than her fear of death. 

     "Ranma?"

     "Yeah?"

     "Are you afraid that...that your mother won't accept you as you
are?"

     "NO!...I mean, no!  Why did you haveta ask such a stupid
question, Akane?  I'm..I'm not afraid about that!"  But the look on
her face betrayed her true feelings to me.  

     All her references to her aversion to womens' clothing.  All of
her self-identity as a male pushing itself through the disguise that was
`Ranko'.  She....she was afraid her mother wouldn't see her as being
a manly son, even if she had changed back to a male in front of her
mother. 

     Frightened as she was of the thought of seppuku, she was even
more scared that her mother would reject her as her son.  After all,
whose so-called `manly son' would dress up in womens' clothing with
cheer and happiness?  

     Never mind that Ranma-chan's cheer and happiness were all
part of an act.  The fact that she did it in the first place could be seen
to be a part of her nature.  Any real son would have admitted the
truth long ago, being as honorable as any man could be.  And there
was that contract that a young Ranma and father had made so long
ago....that stupid promise to commit seppuku if he, Ranma, did not
turn out to be a `man amongst men'.  Again, honor was an important
thing here.

     So why did Ranma-chan want to come out with the secret now? 
It was probably because she didn't know any other way to deal with
her pain and her situation - and revealing her secret was so typical of
her nature.  Straightforward and simple.  She was tired of waiting to
be cured.  She wanted the charade to end.  She could have run away
from home for a day or two, but she was drawn to be with her
mother, like a moth that is drawn to a flame.  And like the moth, she
was liable to be consumed by the fire....

     The voices from the kitchen grew louder and Ranma-chan stood
up with the tea kettle in her hand.  She seemed to be gathering
courage from the tea kettle, her fingers actually making little dimples
on the handle, and she took in a deep breath.  

     Two figures appeared behind the drapes of the kitchen, and one
shape had a sword-shaped bundle on her back.  

     My heart thumped fast and I stood up beside Ranma-chan, and I
watched in horror as her hand lifted the tea kettle up to head height.

     The moment was now and Ranma-chan's life hung in the
balance between the tipping of the tea kettle's contents over her head
or putting it down and remaining as Ranko.

     Mrs. Saotome's hand, I recognized it because of the wedding
ring, pushed the drapes of the kitchen aside and she began to emerge
from within. 

     Ranma-chan began to tip the tea kettle and I watched as a drop
of hot water fell from its lip and touched her hair.  It seemed to go in
slow motion as it ran down a lock of hair and dropped to the floor
with an audible tap.  Her hand tipped just a bit more and another
drop began to gather.....

     I suddenly lunged and wrenched the tea kettle away from
Ranma-chan's hand and she looked at me in shock and surprise as I
flung the tea kettle into the pond, whereupon the contents spilled out
and it floated on the water.

     Betrayal.  That was the only word I could think of at the
moment to describe Ranma-chan's look.  Pure betrayal.  She slumped
to the cushions heavily and held her head in her hands.

     Mrs. Saotome stepped into the living room and she smiled at
me.  I smiled back as best as I could and she walked down a hallway
and turned the corner, out of sight in seconds.  The moment was past. 
A seemingly interminable silence descended upon the living room,
until Ranma-chan lifted her head from her hands.

     "W-why, Akane?  Why did you do that?", she asked.

     I sat down and I lifted Ranma-chan up by the shoulders, to look
at me.  She now had an odd mix of anger and...relief on her face.  I
suddenly threw myself into a hug with her, not caring that we were
both girls at the moment.  There was a long silence.  Nothing stirred
and no sound was made, except for the ticking of a clock.

     "Why?", she asked again.  I took a real deep breath and looked
into myself.  And I brought the truth forward, one of many, but the
most important of all.  It was a truth that I had never actually
admitted to myself, yet it had ruled nearly all of my actions and
decisions in everyday life.  

     "I...I don't want to see you commit seppuku, Ranma.  You....",
I took a firm hold on my reservations on telling Ranma-chan how I
felt and I quashed them, "....you mean too..too much to me.....for
me to allow even the chance of that to happen."

     "I....I mean alot to you?"  Ranma-chan had a note of wonder in
her voice.

     "I'm sorry for not sticking it out with you earlier today.  I'm
sorry, Ranma.  And yes, you mean alot to me.  I...I think I finally
admitted that to myself.  I...I think I looked deep into myself and
admitted that you're important to me."

     Another long pause ensued and we both said nothing for a
while.  Then Ranma-chan shifted in my arms and slowly moved away
from me.  I let her go and watched her.

     "Ranma.....will you do it for me?  I don't want anything to
happen to you!", I asked her.

     "Akane?" 

     "Yes, Ranma?", I said while looking into her eyes.  Such eyes,
like the ones her male side has, that reflected my face in their
endless, fathomless depths.  Although her female side's eye color was
different than the male side's, the *look* was the same.

     "T-Thank you.  I'm sorry for being so....so...nasty to you,
today.  I know all my problems are not gone but....I think you have
just stopped me from doing something stupid today that would have
multiplied my problems even more."  Ranma-chan got up with a
genuine smile on her face.  "I...I supposed I was getting....*tired* of
not being cured.  I mean, lookit all the fake cures and all the stuff
that I've seen.  All of them were junk, Akane.  I....I don't think I'll
show myself to my mom yet.  If there is a chance that I can be cured
before I tell her who I really am, then I'm willing to wait until I get
that chance.  But only as long as you are here, Akane, because I...I
don't think I can go on like this without you....helping me through. 
Will you, Akane?"

     "Yes."  It was one word that meant the world to the both of us.

     She started to walk away with, but she turned back.  "You...you
wanna come along and workout in the dojo with me, Akane?  We'll
talk some more in there...because there is a lot I want to say to you. 
Things that I'd....like to say to you in a place only you can hear."

     "Why not here?  Why do *I* have to be the only one to hear
it?"

     "B..because I'll be embarassed."  She colored slightly and the
look in her eyes seemed to beg me to come along with her.

     I smiled, got to my feet and followed Ranma-chan out of the
house, on the stone path and into the dojo.  

     "Ranma?"

     "Yeah?"  She turned around and looked at me.  

     "There's this little story I have to tell you first......"

-------------------------
Comments?  
By WebDragon (kmark@odyssey.on.ca)