To those who're waiting for my sister's fic wait a bit more, she's working
on a script for school so it's going to take a while.
What is it fused with??? A Book titled when there is hope which I do not own
as well. :) There you go. :)
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~ Chapter 2 ~
_...It turns out I was married to this brute named Ranma Saotome. He
was completely awful to me..._
Akane sat there for a moment taking that in, shock sweeping her body, then silently cursed the pig that sent her here. After she had reasonably calmed down, she thought she'd just explain to this horrible person what happened to her.
"What's your name?" Akane asked, but as he looked at her she scrambled to explain, "Well you see, I'm not Kodachi, not really, I know I *may* look like her, but she's gone of somewhere and all. And I'm here to take her place. I really can't explain this to you, since even *I* don't understand it myself, no one explained it to me, well, they did but it really wasn't enough...and well, What's your name?"
"Ranma," he had answered automatically, not thinking, the effect of her hurried and jumbled words still on him, when he realized what he head said his scowl returned, "And you damn well know it, Kodachi. I'm sick of your games and manipulations. I'm not going to fall for it. You might even say I'm sick and tired of you."
She gave him an impatient look, she had always been impatient, and had a very short reign on her temper. Ranma was sure she would cut this game and start to rant, but she only took a deep breath and said, "So, I gather we don't have the best relationship in the world right now." She looked at him questioningly, her husband. What was happening to her? A husband!!!! _This can *not* be happening_
"But if you must call me something, can't it be something nicer? I mean Kodachi sounds well... deadly." Akane answered as she thought about the short sword, "Well does Ko--do I have a second name or something?"
Ranma looked at her and considered her for a moment then his scowl deepened, her name suited her perfectly well, "You don't have a second name."
"Oh..." Akane thought for a moment, _You can't even make a nickname out of Kodachi except adding the thingies at the ends_, "So, well, could we go by another name, say...Akane. Come on be nice, I'm gonna be stuck here with you...at least, I think I will be..."
At the mention of her real name Akane noticed that Ranma steeled, whatever he was about to say though, was interrupted by the brief knock on the door.
What Akane presumed to be a doctor walked in, and for the second time, Akane noted the weird costumes. He was even completely set with those old bag doctors used, and that fact she only knew from some movies about 1800's America.
"She claims she doesn't know who I am. She claims she doesn't even know who she is!" Ranma informed Doctor Armstrong as he walked towards the newly named, or so everyone thought, Akane. He was a thin, youngish man, with a smooth face and a receding hairline. His kind and intelligent eyes, plus a soothing manner, was a lot of help in calming Akane down. It did help that his personality reminded her somewhat of her sister's husband.
"Mrs. Saotome, let me take a look at you." he said looking at the long gash at her head. _Why was the doctor here? Shouldn't I be in a hospital?_ "This looks like a bad wound. How do you feel? Are you nauseated? Did you vomit?"
"She vomited and fainted about five minutes ago," Ranma answered for her ignoring her disbelieving look.
"You couldn't walk that long a distance in five *minutes*!" Akane said out loud as the doctor felt around her wound, even the slightest pressure caused her to wince and once her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
He gave her another one of his gazes, she seemed to be receiving a lot of those from him. "You know well enough I could have crossed that in one."
"Her skull is fractured." The doctor informed them effectively stopping the fight.
"Hello. I'm the patient here." She called waving her hand at the doctor's face, "You could talk to me you know. Honestly. Don't you guys think I should be in a hospital or something? I think I have a concussion."
The men looked at her in surprise. Something was wrong here. "First of all, the doctor can't speak to you."
Something was very wrong. "And why is that?"
"He can't speak Japanese."
Akane looked at the doctor then at the bag he was carrying and his clothes. With the black bag that she saw only in foreign films.
As she stared at his face long and hard, she noticed that only Ranma looked remotely Japanese. It suddenly dawned on her what might be happening. It did not seem possible -- but then after all that has happened she believed that *anything* can be done in the realm of reality.
"What year is it? For that matter where am I? What country??" She asked reverting to English, afraid of what the answer could be, her heart beating painfully in her chest, thankful that she still remembers the language from her high school and constant travels with her husband.
"Why, it's 1888, in America," Dr. Armstrong supplied, looking at her with renewed interest. She let out a small groan of displeasure. _This is worse than I thought._ Suddenly the wave of voices, plus the pig, washed over her again and she calmed down.
Akane repeated it slowly, again and again, disbelieving it and yet... She sighed, she knew nothing of America, nothing! Only that the language was taught in High School, but nothing else, certainly nothing that was useful in the 19th century. She suddenly wished she could have a crash course in history or something.
"Hmmm..." The doctor thought a moment then looked at her to ask questions, "Mrs. Saotome, have you and I ever met??"
"No." She answered promptly then pointed her thumb over at Ranma, "But I haven't met him either. I explained it all to him, after that short guy left, but he doesn't believe me."
Ranma rolled his eyes in disbelief, was she still hanging on to that ludicrous tale?
Dr. Armstrong just ignored her and cleaned her wound. After which he prepared a needle and thread.
"What? I need stitches?" She said eyeing the needle, even after she had rested every move caused her pain, Kodachi must have had one heck of a fall. "Has that thing been sterilized?" She slurred before she slipped into unconsciousness.
After the doctor finished his job he motioned to Ranma and moved into the hallway, closing the door behind them. "Spunky, isn't she?" He chuckled then got right to the point, "It was a serious head injury, Mr. Saotome. In fact so serious, I don't know what's keeping her skull together. She could have died...in fact she should have died." He gauged the reaction of the young man before him, there was none. "For the first twenty-four hours, someone has to be constantly with her. She is unconscious right now, and her breathing sounds regular, but she may slip into a coma. If that happens, I don't know if she will wake up. Do you understand all this Mr. Saotome? I always believed in being frank regarding my patients, especially in serious conditions. There is a possibility that your wife may die."
Ranma gave a curt nod, when he had seen her fall, she was too far for him to catch her, not that he wanted to, after he gave specific instructions for her not to jump the horse, she had disobeyed him. It was supposed to be a lesson, and Kodachi knew how to fall, gracefully at that, so he had not worried.
The accident replayed over his mind, as she had been thrown into the air by the frightened horse, he had seen her start to alter her movements so she would safely land on her feet. A move he knew she had mastered since childhood. Something went wrong, it was as if she stopped for a moment, at the turning point of the jump when she was still head first. That was when she had collided with the ground.
The doctor's words snapped him out of that as he said, "The next two days are critical. I expect swelling, maybe fever. I must be honest, I have never seen someone live through a fall like that. I would suggest you call a priest. Any family." The doctor was obviously uncomfortable at giving such a dire prognosis, but as he looked at man before him to see if some emotion touched his face -- anything to tell him that his wife meant to him, he saw none. He might as well have been talking about the condition of a dog.
"As for her memory, it appears as if she has amnesia. Not uncommon for her type of injury. It can be very frustrating, for her and the people around her. If she survives, I can recommend sanitariums and such, but I suggest you have patience with her. In most cases, memory returns within hours, some within days, but there are rare cases that it will not. I'll stay for a few hours, then you or someone else can take care of her.
Ranma listened impassively at what the doctor was droning on and on about, though he showed no emotion, the diagnosis did affect him. Years and years of hating, it seemed, had not erased all that he had felt for his wife. Though he had hated her completely, he still found a part of him that had truly wanted to be her friend. But to the doctor he said, "I have business to attend in two days. I'll be staying until then. While I am gone, I expect you to take care of her. Good day, doctor."
~~~
Akane had slipped in and out of consciousness, and she had not recognized anyone except the doctor, not once did she see her husband to tend to her. In her feverish daze she did manage to talk to a red-haired woman who was about to close the gas lamp, apparently, she had been watching her sleep.
"Tired," Just as she had been before, she could not force enough words out of her mouth, she did not even know if she spoke the right language. Fortunately the girl understood her and answered in Japanese.
"Rest." She said curtly as she put a wet towel top of Akane's forehead, "You are in no condition to go mumbling about in your tirades."
The girl did not care to hide that she did not like to spend that time with her patient. Akane had felt that, as much as she did the pain of her head. Though she had wanted to follow the woman's curt advice she placed her hand on her wrist and croaked out "Why do people hate me so?"
The woman raised her eyebrows then looked at the hand restraining her, thought for a second then replied, "You are not in a position to ask."
She faded into unconsciousness again. For those four days, that was only what she had remembered, and the faces of the people who had some to watch her. On the fifth day, she woke up, as if from natural sleep and stretched her muscles out. As she looked at the room, another wave of panic engulfed her. _My God, it's true!_ She thought as her eyes touched every detestable furniture and color in the room, _It wasn't some wacky dream_
She looked around and was grateful that she was alone. As she sat up, she feared the pain of movement, but was surprised to find out she felt none. As she looked at the spacious room the bright windows in either side of her bed caught her eye, laying golden rectangles across the Oriental rug.
Bringing her knees up, she rested her arms on them, and was surprised when she found them not of her own. It was then that what happened to her dawned at her fully. She had completely changed. Her skin, before was golden, because of her daily runs, Kodachi's it seemed was delicate, fragile and almost pale against the white linen. At least her hair hadn't changed much, before, when the sun shone off it, it would show streaks of blue, now it was just completely black. She was in a new body. How strange. As she looked down, some of the curls fell forward. Another surprise, she brought her hand up to them, as if testing it. With her hands she explored her face, wincing when she touched the wound. She had the urge to look at herself in the mirror to see what face stared back, for God knew how long.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, she nearly fell in the floor, used to her longer legs which could have reached the side easily, she had forgotten that this body was so much shorter, and did not think that the distance between the bed and the floor would have changed.
It felt strange. It seemed everything had gotten larger. Things that before was as tall as her hip now rose to her ribs. She brushed away her gown and looked at her feet. They were tiny. She laughed. Finally, she could fit in those cute shoes, that looked ridiculous in her size. It's just that...in this century, she wasn't sure if cute shoes existed.
Padding over the soft carpet, Akane walked towards a beautiful cherry-wood full-length mirror stationed against one pink, black and gold wallpapered wall. She stood there looking at herself. Long, curling black hair, that someone had tied into a high pony-tail before she fell asleep, hung fraying about, nice mouth, little nose,. The blow to her head made a part of her forehead swollen and on one side of her face was a yellowing bruise. Her body was hidden a black cotton night thing that buttoned up her neck, ending with a scratchy lace under her chin. She lifted her gown to see the body that lay underneath and made a face. Big breasts, big stomach, big thighs. Akane had been proud of her body, long, lithe and golden. She had been one of those women all other women hate. The type that ran everyday and loved every moment of it.
She looked at her breasts with the detachment of a doctor examining a patient. Big, but nicely shaped. Although she had insisted she liked her small, pert breasts, she had secretly wished a more voluptuous figure. _Well, I've got it now...I wonder for how long?_
She studied her face closer. It was completely unappealing, she decided. Puffy, unhealthy, pasty, the kind of face of a person who abused life and body. She tried to guess how old she was and tried to remember how much that man told her....
_That man!_ "Oh no, she's married! Oh wait, *I'm* married, I mean, she's married and I have her husband! What a mess!"
She desperately tried to remember more of the scowling man who had carried her here, but her mind came to blank. She prayed quickly and fervently that she would not sleep with him. She closed her eyes and tried to picture his face. The image of blue eyes, angry and cold, flashed back into her mind. She tried to think of something positive, but the only thing she could come up with was that he was handsome.
What year was it again? 1888. A year she knew next to nothing about, especially if she was in another country. _Obviously Ranma and Kodachi aren't a match made in heaven, but they had money._ She thought as she looked at the richly, if gaudily appointed room.
She was about to examine her face closer when a woman came in all dressed in black. _What is with this house and BLACK? Is it a theme color or something?_
"Hello," She offered the greeting to the woman. After all, she needed her friends right now. And she hardly knew where she was.
"Oh, Mrs. Saotome!" She said with obvious unease at the woman who was standing in front of the mirror, "I thought you were asleep. I'm sorry. You're awake. That's good."
Akane sighed, it seemed that everyone either hated her, didn't know what to do with her, or plainly did not know her. "I'm okay, but starved."
"Oh, I'll have Becky bring up your food here," She said as if talking to a dimwit.
"But," Akane had really wanted to see the house and exactly where she was, "I'll just take it in the kitchen."
"You always take your breakfast at bed, ma'am," She continued her schoolroom voice as she went towards Akane.
Akane thought about it, she had always hated eating in bed. Besides, those kind of things were done by the lazy people, and it would be uncomfortable, as far as she knows, the bed is a place to sleep. "I think I'll take my breakfast wherever, uh, Ranma does." she tested the name on her tongue, it rolled easily, for a moment she paused, she did not know where people ate in the 1880's.
The woman looked at her questioningly but informed her in a brisk manner, "He doesn't allow you to go into his room, ma'am."
"Oh. His room." She was lost, where the hell do you eat in this country anyway? "Well, then..."
"How about the breakfast room?" The woman suggested, she was very uncomfortable now, as if a suggestion from her would cause her to loose her job.
"The breakfast room? Ah yes, of course." She thought as she followed the mad to what seemed like a closet. She muttered under her breath, "Let's hope there's a lunch and dinner room."
The maid, her name was Stella, helped her into a huge, low-cut gown (of course it was in black) which she called a day dress, after what seemed like endless layers of undergarments. She was also thankful, that the young lady spoke Japanese fluently. It seemed that Ranma hired servants that could speak so, because she had demanded it.
Akane became uncomfortable at the fact that someone else was dressing her, but Stella put her at ease. When they were finished, Akane felt ridiculous the dress exposed too much flesh. She turned to Stella and said, "Don't I have anything a little more...modest? Maybe something other than black..."
"Let's see," Stella said brightly as she flipped through the clothes making a small cloud of dust and perfume cloud through. Akane coughed at it _Didn't Kodachi know anything about dust???_ She thought as she looked behind Stella to see anything promising turned up.
In the end, she wore the black dress, with a light shawl around her shoulders that was held by a big brooch with a big dark Onyx carved into an exquisite rose. When Akane looked at herself she wrinkled her nose and sighed, "I look like an old lady. Well at least I look decent."
"This is way too weird."
"I beg your pardon?" Stella asked not understanding what she said.
"Oh nothing." Akane smiled as she looked outside the door and was pleasantly surprised that the hallways looked *way* better that her room. Though she was hungry and her stomach was complaining she smiled at Stella, "Sorry, Stella, that knock on the head made me forget things. Would you show me around the house?"
The maid looked at her eyes widened in surprise, it seemed that Ranma failed to mention to the household help that she had amnesia. The maid seemed not to understand why she had to show her mistress a house which she had lived in since childhood.
"If you insist, ma'am", that was the beginning to the tour of what Akane believed to be the most beautiful house which she had ever seen.
To the right the hall seemed to stretch forever toward a large octangular window that let in golden light which faded into muted yellow where the two of them stood. Charming fluted glass lamps were hung outside each heavy dark door on walls painted eggshell white. Dark moldings, in the same rich wood as the floor, bordered the ceilings and doors.
She was delighted when she found out that the lights were fueled by gas and. Stella just looked at her skeptically as she examined the lamp as if she had never before seen such a thing. She immediately saw her error there when she saw Stella's face, a woman in this time would not be fascinated by a mere lamp.
She didn't try to justify herself, in what seemed like an intense interest in what likely was a common gas lamp. Stella gave her a hard stare as she jerked her hand towards one of the rooms, "These are bedrooms, Most are empty."
Akane gulped at what seemed like rows and rows of hotel doors, "Which is my--" She closed her eyes, she couldn't quite imagine anyone other than Ryoga's serious face, but then again, they had their similarities, "husbands?"
Hundreds of memories passed through her that it came to a point where the angels had to brush them away, until she could hardly remember it, a memory that was still there but locked until she could deal with it.
'Are you alright, Ma'am?" This time, her concern was real.
She almost felt that smile she flashed, it almost reached to her eyes. Almost. "Yes, Stella, I'm fine.
"Mr. Saotome's room is at the far end of the hall facing the bay, as your room does," She provided.
"The bay?" Akane turned back into the room to look out of her window to see an endless blue, dotted by large chunks of melting ice.
"It's beautiful," she said, sighing. She loved the water, though she could not fathom why, since, try as she might, she simply could not swim. She loved it's uncertainty, it's moods, so to speak. So far, this was her dream turned real, a mansion by the sea. She'd been angry at the pig, which she had named P-chan by the way, (what else was she supposed to name her guardian angel?), but perhaps P-chan knew what he was doing after all. He at least gave her compensation...
She turned to Stella and asked, "What is it?"
"What is What, Ma'am?"
"The water, the bay, what is it?" It wasn't likely that she knew what it was but she had to know.
The maid was still clearly confused at the amnesia business as she answered, "Why, it's Narragansett Bay, Ma'am. You're looking at the West Passage. That land there is Connecticut Island, Jamestown."
She didn't know where she was. That was the whole of it, later she learned that she was in Newport. "Why don't they connect this with a bridge?"
"A bridge ma'am?" She asked confused, "I don't think a bridge could go that far."
"Oh," Akane thought, she still had a lot to learn, wait till she tell Ryo--Suddenly she felt lonely, of course she couldn't tell Ryoga. Ryoga wouldn't even be born yet.
She realized now that she was alone. "Show me the rest of the house, Stella." So much alone.
Used to living in three room apartments (she insisted not to live off Ryoga's father's money) she was overwhelmed at the size of the house. She learned its name. Rose Brier, a pretty name. It had twenty-four rooms, more than half bedrooms, a library, nursery, separate dining quarters and a huge living room that was often converted into a small ballroom at parties. Most of the rooms were not wallpapered giving the house a casual air, despite its elegance, the dark wood floors, wainscoting, and trim were constant.
They moved downstairs through a large curving staircase, with a smooth polished mahogany banister, "There are three parlors- east, west and main," indicating a charmingly feminine room with a white marble fireplace and delicate looking upholstered furniture.
As she moved she saw a maid being scolded by a formidable looking woman, she passed quietly then asked, "Who is that?"
"Mrs. Brimble, the housekeeper."
"Is she important?"
Again Stella looked at her in surprise, "She runs the household as Mr. Saotome likes it."
When they reached the library with it's rows and rows of books, Akane smiled as she breathed it in "This is my room."
"Oh, this is Mr. Saotome's room. Ma'am" Stella countered without thinking.
"Why?" Akane pouted, "It's a beautiful room, I can't believe he'll take it all to himself. I don't even think he *likes* to read!"
"Well, he doesn't but..." She bit her lip, hard, as she stopped to consider what to say, "He does his work here. His bedchamber, the library and the dojo, are his places."
"How come?" She asked puzzled and excited at the prospect of a dojo, she didn't know one could exist in a foreign land.
"People never come in those places, ma'am." Akane sensed the girl was about to tell something more, but had firmly closed her mouth thereafter.
"You mean me? I never come here?" Akane said as she touched the books gingerly, "Would you please take me to the dojo?"
The maid looked at her startled then proceeded but stopped when she heard Akane's stomach grumbled.
"Oh, I think it's time to feed me." Akane patted it as she looked towards the direction of the kitchen, "I'll look at the dojo some other time. Thank You, Stella."
By the time Stella had lead her to the breakfast room and left her to eat there, she was wide-eyed and almost open-mouthed. Mrs. Saotome never thanked any of the house help. She though that the compensation of her money was enough gratitude for them. Further more she *never* addressed them by their given names. This was a sudden change. What is she up to?
The maid, well what do you know? She's dressed in black again, brought her platter after platter of dishes, eggs, pastries, sausages, and the list went on, after she was finished serving she turned to her.
"What's your name?" Akane asked, shocked at the frightened look of the young girl.
"Betty, ma'am." She answered shakily.
"Who else will be joining me?" She asked referring to the food that could easily feed ten starving men.
"No one, ma'am."
Akane stared at the mounds of food then at the maid and sighed, things were going to change, "I need to talk to the cook, Betty. There is a cook, right?"
The maid nodded mutely then went off towards the kitchen, Akane looking at her stood up and followed, it wouldn't do for them to think of her as a princess giving out commands.
As she entered the door she could smell fresh baked bread wafting over. Akane was a bit surprised when the people inside were wearing white, a stark contrast to the darkness of maid's uniforms. As her presence was known, the bustling kitchen, which was filled with gossip, stopped. It was as if someone had shouted stop, and the people complied. That was how quickly the work and chatter died down.
One woman, obviously in charge, stepped up to her took a deep breath and wiped her hand on a rumpled apron, "Yes, Mrs. Saotome?"
"I..." Suddenly she seemed blank and forgot what she was going to say. She took a deep breath then said, "From now on I'll eat in the breakfast room at seven o'clock. I'll eat toast, unbuttered, fruit, juice and coffee. That's all. I do appreciate all the wonderful food. Honestly. But there's so much there to feed a lot of people and there are a lot of people who's going hungry, it's such a waste don't you think?"
She looked around, she didn't know if there were hungry people in this place, but people were mostly hungry...this is getting confusing. "And we don't have a big family." She stated then paused, uncertainly, "Do... we?" Nobody said anything about children. She could live with children, but then...this is getting confusing again.
The cook blinked at her. Twice, much like she had done with P-chan. "It was just for you ma'am."
She nodded, but that still hadn't answered her question about children. She did wish she had children, unless of course Ranma had children with other women...but then...
When she returned to the dining room to finish eating, she ran a mental list of things to do. And sighed, it was a lot.
She mentally cursed the angels who sent her to this century, particularly that little black pig. Then she sighed, there was nothing she really could do. The best of it, was that she had to make friends with that brute of a husband.
Author's Notes
To those who want to send c&c (begged for), questions and violent reactions, previous chapters and oh...and no flames until I get a fireproof jacket, send it to ysis@hotmail.com to those who will send it to the FFML it won't reach me cuz' It's in a pile of other mail, and I won't read it.
To those who offered to pre-read please mail me again 'cuz my comp. is recently formatted and I lost all your addresses.
I may not answer really fast...I sometimes don't get net access for a week bec. of school stuff.
Thanks for reading.
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I write when the spirit moves and I make sure it moves everyday.
~~said by someone I currently can't remember. :)