Till the End of Time

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum - harnums@hotmail.com

All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first
published by Shogakukan in Japan and brought over to North
America by Viz Communications.

     Kick.  Punch.  Repeat.  Endless rhythm.  Each blow sent tiny 
puffs of straw dust up from the training dummy.  Held down by a 
block of cement, the wooden post rocked back and forth under her 
attacks, even occasionally giving out an ominous creak as if it 
were but moments away from snapping.  This was one foe, at least, 
that Akane could still best in combat.  Since Ranma had arrived, 
there had been few - even her own feelings had turned against her 
so many times where her unwanted fiance was concerned.

     "Yer doin' it all wrong."
     
     Akane turned, flipping back sweaty bangs with one hand, and
gave Ranma a stony glare where he stood in the doorway.  "I don't
need _your_ advice on this, thank you very much."

     With a shrug, Ranma strode across the wooden boards of the
dojo floor, walking lightly as a cat on the balls of his feet.
"Ya sure?  I mean, maybe I could teach you something?"

     Akane laid another fist into the training dummy as Ranma
hovered nearby.  "Right," she snorted.  "The great Ranma Saotome,
ego that walks like a man, teaching the clumsy tomboy his great
Art."

     "Ahh, you're not that clumsy," Ranma said with his usual
tact.  Akane resisted, for once, the urge to clobber him with
something heavy and solid, and continued to rain blows upon the
training dummy.

     "You're hitting it too hard," Ranma lectured, standing just 
a little out of convenient hitting range and rocking back and
forth on his heels.  "You leave too many openings.  And..."

     "I KNOW I'M NOT AS GOOD AS YOU!"  With a snap, the wooden
post holding the dummy splintered and broke free at her final 
blow and clattered to the dojo floor.
     
     Ranma blinked his eyes in stunned silence as Akane whirled.
"I know I'm not ever going to be as good as you, or Shampoo or
Ukyou or anyone else, so why don't you just LEAVE ME ALONE!"

     Then she strode by him towards the exit, stomping her feet
as she went, shoulders shaking with rage and perhaps with unshed
tears.  

     "Hey, wait, come on..." Ranma caught up with her in the
passage between house and dojo, and stepped in front of her to
block her path.  "I didn't mean..."

     "Just go away," Akane snarled, with a sniffle at the end.
Ranma, suddenly guilty at having hurt her, reached out and
caught her by the shoulders.

     "Hey, I'm sorry," he muttered, staring at the ground.  
     
     "Right," Akane said, wiping at her eyes.  His hands on her
shoulders... felt... right, somehow.  

     "No, really, I am," Ranma said desperately.  "I didn't think
it was so big to you..."

     "I used to be the best," Akane said.  "And then you came, 
and Shampoo, and now... now I'm nothing."

     "Ahh, me an' Shampoo an' everyone else have been trainin'
all our lives.  You do it as a hobby..." Ranma began.

     Akane stepped back, breaking free from his hands.  "It's not
a hobby," she snapped.  "Maybe you think that's all it is to me,
like stamp-collecting or something, but it's not.  It's really
important to me.  I want to..."  She sighed, shook her head and
trailed away into silence.

     "Maybe you just need a better teacher," Ranma tried 
cautiously.  "I mean, your dad, he's..."

     "Dad hasn't done much teaching since Mom died," Akane said
softly.  "And he's..."

     "You want me to show you some stuff?" Ranma asked softly.
     
     Akane looked at him suspicously.  Ranma's face was nervous,
but sincere.  "For real?" 

     Ranma nodded.  "For real."
     
     Akane nodded, and smiled in a way that made Ranma's heart
beat faster.  "Okay."

     They walked back into the spacious, airy dojo together, not
quite hand-in-hand, but with their hands close together.  Facing
one another across a half-dozen feet of empty floor, they bowed
once, able to forget for a short moment what was between them and 
be only teacher and student.

     "Begin," Ranma said with a slight grin.  Akane came at him,
and, as he'd done the first time they'd sparred, Ranma simply 
wove back from her like the wind.  Kicks, punches, elbows, Ranma
dodged them all with startling ease.  Akane tried to keep calm,
but the teasing grin on Ranma's face drove her mad.

     "Fight me!" she shouted as he sidestepped a jump-kick.  
"Come on!"

     Ranma rolled his eyes and ducked away from a punch
combination.  "I _AM_ fighting you.  Ain't you gettin' tired?"

     "AAAAAH!!!"
     
     The charge missed completely, but Ranma tagged her lightly
in the side with his open palm as she passed him.  Akane whirled
and reversed into a spinning kick, but he ducked and scuttled
back in a half-crouch before rising to leap away from her 
downward chop.

     "Why won't you hit back, you coward!"
     
     Ranma's eyes narrowed slightly.  "Okay.  You want me to hit
back, Akane?"  And then he was all rushing feet and flying 
punches, a blur of speed in a red shirt.  Akane tried to defend,
but it was hopeless as fighting a hurricane.  Backstep.  Backstep
again.  

     Then she tripped over the broken practice dummy and went 
down hard on her behind.  That was, it seemed, one thing Ranma
hadn't been expecting.  He stumbled, and his foot caught on the
cement block the dummy had been mounted on.  With a surprised 
cry, he came down atop Akane, catching himself with his hands on
either side of her head and preventing his full weight from
hitting her at the last second.  Even so, they were suddenly
chest-to-chest, leg to leg.  Very close.  

     Very, very close.  Close enough to smell the salty tang of
the other's sweat, to see perspiration gleaming on flushed faces.  
Muscle against muscle, softness against softness.

     For a moment, both of them were very, very still.
     
     Then Akane leaned up and kissed him on the lips.
     
     After a moment, Ranma kissed her back.
     
     It went on for a short time that seemed an eternity to both.
The hidden desire of their two hearts, at last fulfilled.  So 
soft the other's lips - so warm the other's body.  Light, breathy 
sounds escaped them.  Hands roamed, exploring undiscovered 
places.

     They broke apart, for air if for nothing else.  Into each
other's eyes they stared, depth into depth.  In the yard, a bird
called, answered by another, and the sound came clearly through
the windows into the crystalline silence of the dojo.

     "Akane," Ranma whispered.  He shifted over to lie on his 
side on the wooden dojo floor, then reached out and took her 
into his arms.  Her hair was fragrant and soft, tickling his 
nose.  "Akane, I..."

     Akane rested her head against the muscled warmth of his
shoulder, and sighed, breathing in the scent of him.  "I know,
Ranma," she murmured.  "I know.  I love you too."

     Just then, the Battle of Armageddon occured, and they both 
died horrible horrible deaths.
     
                              THE END!!!

Author's Notes:

I blame this upon the folks in The Keep, particularly on whoever 
brought up WAFFy oneshot fics where Ranma and Akane confess their 
true feelings, and on Andrew Huang, who told me I should write 
this fic when I ventured the idea.  Thanks, guys.  ;p



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