AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a very small part of what's turning out to be a very
large fic I'm writing for Ridgewolf's Mousse New Year's Challenge. I think
it will stand on its own fairly well... all you need to know is that Mousse
had a little... falling out at the Nekohanten and is now renting a little
space (a VERY little space, just about duck-sized) from Nabiki until he can
find somewhere else to go, and that Ranma was about to take Mousse's head
off for a gaffe which would make the Saotome School of Foot-in-Mouth Public
Speaking proud.

Oh, and Ranma 1/2 and all related characters are copyright to the Lady
Rumiko and all the distributors of her work. But this here clip of story is
mine, all mine...

"Capturing the Moment"

A Ranma 1/2 vignette by G. Falconar

Any lemon content, perceived or implied, is strictly in your own head.

****

Ranma toweled himself off, wrung the last of the cold water out of his
soaked shirt, and dressed. Again. Maybe Mousse was right and they should
screen off the koi pond... it would certainly make mornings a lot less
confusing. Then again, there was nothing like a gender change to wake you
up... particularly when said change was accompanied by ice-cold water. His
clothes were damp now, but not wet enough to activate the curse. That was a
good thing... as much as he appreciated the advantages his female form gave
him, it was... unnatural.

Ranma walked down the hall, making no sound whatsoever. He prided himself on
that... after the years Pop had spent teaching him and all the bizarre
rituals that entailed, he was glad to make even the slightest use of his
abilities. He cracked open the door to the room he and Pop shared, ready to
send a soon-to-be soaked panda out the window...

It was empty.

Ranma sniffed at the air as a familiar scent wafted past his nostrils;
Kasumi was making breakfast a bit early this morning. Food was the one thing
that could bring Pop awake without fail. Ranma began plotting a bit of
revenge for later, when a packet caught his eye.

Plain brown paper, placed in the exact center of his futon, and addressed to
him... in Nabiki's handwriting. He ripped it open... a single sheet of paper
was folded around what seemed to be a photo collection. More of her "reject"
shots, he thought. Usually, it fell on him to dispose of them... a chi blast
was an unusually efficient incinerator. He blinked in surprise as he read
the cover letter.

"Ranma-
 Do NOT mess with my boarders. You have been warned.
     Nabiki"

"You have been warned"? But what could possibly...

Ranma felt his eyes popping as he leafed through the photos. THESE were of
Akane? He wondered how Nabiki had managed to get a camera... no, if there
was money to be made, she'd find a way. The face and the hairstyle told him
it was Akane, but... he just couldn't imagine her doing this. Or that. Or
that. Or...

Ranma yelped in surprise and dropped the packet of photos as though it were
on fire. They hit the ground, and scattered. And he heard steps and a voice
coming up the stairs. Akane. Act calm, he told himself. Act calm and you
might not be headed on a flight over the Sea of Japan...

"Ranma? Nabiki wanted to know if you were up yet. Ranma?"

****

Hmm, the door was open. But then again, that was no guarantee. Ranma could
sleep through a hurricane, so the normal morning routine at the dojo would
hardly get him out of bed. Akane was about to open the door when something
caught her eye. She picked up the photograph, turned it over, and gasped.

She didn't know how Nabiki had managed to get past the locked bathroom door,
and she considered it fortunate that instinct had told her to wrap a towel
around herself before she slid the curtain aside. But still... for Nabiki to
sell that, and to Ranma...

Wait, she told herself. Perhaps Nabiki just dropped it. Yes, that was it.
She was planning to sell them to Kuno Tatewaki later today and she had
dropped one. She hoped...

Her hopes were quickly dashed as she stepped inside. About ten photos were
scattered across the floor of the room Ranma shared with his father, and
Ranma was blushing slightly. That, coupled with the look of impending doom
that filled his face when she fixed him with her stare, made it clear enough
what he had done.

"Hentai!"

"Akane, wait, it's not what you think!" The bit of desperation contained in
Ranma's voice only served to enrage her further.

"How could you? I could see Kuno stooping to this, but not you!"

"Akane... I can explain..." No he couldn't. She had him dead to rights this
time, and he was going to suffer.

"Ranma..." she began, reaching out for her mallet.

"Akane, no, I wasn't... I didn't..."

"...No..." she continued, feeling the shaft of the mallet spring into
existence, and adjusting her grip for maximum effect.

"BAKA!" she screamed, swinging the mallet in a huge arc, under Ranma's
feeble attempt at a block. He went flying across the room and through the
open window, with a pained look on his face. Somehow, she didn't think it
came entirely from the impact.

Now, to tear these things up... what in...?

Akane felt her knees go weak as she sat down rather hard on Ranma's futon.
These pictures... well, Kuno certainly wouldn't buy them. He wanted his
"huntress" to exude strength and power, and these pictures were anything
but.

A year ago, when she'd volunteered at the local children's hospital over the
summer. Nine months ago, when she had trained the girl down the street in
self-defense so she wouldn't have to worry about being beaten up or worse by
a certain muscle-bound jerk who would remain nameless. Her finally getting
Kasumi to manage a bicycle after a few years spent entirely at home. She
picked the rest of the photos off the floor. They were probably Nabiki's
rejects, ones no sane hentai would even think about paying good money for.
That picture of her in the shower had probably gotten mixed in
accidentally... or maybe Nabiki had dropped it after all. But why would
Ranma buy these? The only common thread was...

This made an insane sort of sense. Kuno was willing to pay to see her
strength. Her throng of "admirers" was willing to pay to see her body. But
Ranma... was willing to pay to see her smile? To see her being kind? To see
her as anything but a violent tomboy?

Akane sat for a few minutes, turning the photos over and over in her hands.
She sifted through the pack, ripped the one of her in the shower into
pieces, threw it away... and left the others on Ranma's futon. She went
downstairs, only halfway hearing Kasumi's announcement that breakfast was
getting cold...

****

Comments and criticism are, as always, welcome, though I scoff in the
general direction of any and all flames.

--Glazius