Hello! It is I once again, this time with the revised version of 'Aru Hareta Hi', ch.1. Thanks to all tehh wonderful people who wrote to me. :) It was very much appreciated.
BTW, Ch.2 is complete! ^^
***
Aru Hareta Hi || A Certain Clear Day
***
Summary:
Three years after the failed wedding, Ranma and Akane are
securely, willingly engaged and on their way to a happy future as
they attend college. . .but what will happen then?
***
Notes and Points to Keep in Mind:
I have *not* been through many of the classes I describe here, so
I will be vague on topics I don't understand fully--mostly the
mathematics that Himeko and others (Shiroki et al) supposedly
pursue. *My* knowledge is concentrated in biology. Please send
corrections to me. ^^;;
I promise to use only real chemicals, formulae, theorems, laws,
etc. I *am* being vague on the research topic because I can't
make up something undiscovered, nor can I give them the credit
for other people's discoveries.
Yukawa is the name of a famous scientific institute in Kyoto.
***
Disclaimer:
Ranma 1/2 does not belong to me. Neither do the lyrics I use.
Yukawa Himeko (as does her main incarnation, Takeno
Himeko)/Miyake/Shiroki/all other non-canon characters do belong
to me.
I swear on my pile of manga that I did not rip off anyone else's
fanfic intentionally. I freely admit that my way of handling the
timing was inspired by "Fragments".
BTW and FYI, this story is actually the way "O-tomodachi" was
*supposed* to be. I decided to resurrect this from the bottom of
the ideas-heap. However, fans of OT will not necessarily enjoy
this story, as the plot bears little resemblance and the mood is
drastically different. ^_^
***
Prologue
"Passing By" -- Author Unknown
There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.
Her gesture, motion and her smile,
Her wit, her voice, my heart beguile;
Beguile my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love her till I die.
Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,
Judge you that think such sports were harms,
Were't any harm? No, no, fie, fie!
For I will love her till I die.
Should I remain confin�d there
So long as Phoebus in his sphere,
I to request, she to deny,
Yet would I love her till I die.
Cupid is wing�d and doth range
Her country so my love doth change;
But change she earth or change she sky,
Yet will I love her till I die.
***
One || Sakura, Haruda || Cherry Blossoms, It is Spring
o/~
"On a Clear Day, You Can See Forever"
On a clear day,
Rise and look around you,
And you'll see who you are.
On a clear day,
How it will astound you,
That the glow of your being
Outshines every star.
You'll feel part of
Every mountain, sea and shore,
You can hear
>From far and near
A word you've never ever heard before.
And on the clear day...
On the clear day...
You can see forever
And ever
And ever
And ever
More...
o/~
[ April 10, Tokyo, Present ]
Kyoritsu Chemical University, trainer of future pharmacists, was
not *too* far away from the hubbub of Tokyo University. Ranma
mumbled something to himself as he ran along, almost late. Not
*his* fault that his fianc�e had to be in pharmaceutical school.
Not *his* fault that she wanted to see him first thing in the
morning. As for him, he was a sophomore at Tokyo University on
an athletic basis--he had passed the tests, barely, after five
months' intense cramming--and was dreading his class. Why, oh
why, was a business major (he had to take care of the family
dojo, right?) taking a class in introductory physics?
There were a few good reasons, he thought as he shoved the
backpack up his shoulder and opened the glass door to the science
building in front of him. One, it was required that he took an
elective, and since he had put the decision off for so long, this
and pottery-making were the only classes left open. Two, it
would not hurt to understand basic physics if he was going to be
a kempo teacher. Three, he hated feeling stupid whenever he
talked to Ryoga, an engineering major. The only problem was his
head for science, or lack thereof.
"Saotome! Get yer butt in here before the bell rings! You're
dealin' with Professor Burashu; that guy will grill you like a
steak if you aren't in your seat in ten seconds!" Ryoga's shout
jerked Ranma into the medium-sized lecture hall. He slid into a
molded plastic seat and threw a notebook, pencil, and calculator
on the writing surface before sighing. He straightened his light
green t-shirt, swept his hands over his loose pants, and sat
back. Ryoga poked him. "Hmm, just made it."
A lot has changed in just three years, Ranma thought wearily.
Why, three years ago, if Ryoga had touched Ranma, there would
have been some harsh words, not to mention--
"Ohayo, minna-san!" A booming voice jerked the students' heads
towards the front. Professor Burashu was somewhat short, and
very muscular; rumor had it that he had been a champion
powerlifter before turning to teaching. His dark, slightly
graying hair was brushed back carefully. He wore wire-rimmed
glasses, but the sparkle in his eyes was not dimmed. He wore a
short-sleeved shirt, neat gray slacks, and slapped a pile of
papers onto the lectern as he fired up the projector. "Good to
see you all today! Gimme a few minutes to get things set up. .
.oh yeah, welcome to advanced physics, 303. . ."
"What?!" Ranma turned to Ryoga. "I'm supposed to be in the
beginner class. I don't know *anything* about this stuff. I
thought. . ."
"No talking!" Burashu's voice shouted, and Ranma, sighing, turned
back towards the front. The professor went on. "If you're here
to learn physics, great! Nice to have ya. If not, too bad! You
gotta learn it anyway, haha! Oh, and by the way, if you're late,
that's a 1% deduction, so you might as well not show up! Being
late is just as bad as not coming to class! This is a small
class, I'll know if you're here. . .ahh, here we go. I assume
that you all have taken 101 and 202 already, and are fairly
comfortable with the Fourier transform series. We focus a lot on
the new stuff here, the quantum mechanics, waves, and such."
Ranma paled.
"So, we're all here! That's great. Welcome and--"
"Excuse me?"
Heads turned as the door opened. A girl walked in.
"Late!" A few voices shouted leeringly. Some students winced,
ready for the scolding there was to come. Ranma, for his part,
was amused that someone had taken the liberty of being late, and
waited to see the consequences.
"Yukawa-san! There you are." The man turned and nodded. The
slender girl bowed and quickly walked in. A hush settled over
the room. She looked *young*, too young to be a TA or another
professor. By the greeting, she certainly wasn't a student. Who
was she? *She* could be late. This immediately incited some
petty jealousy.
As the girl walked closer, Ranma took a curious look. She raised
her head and gave a quick, shy smile to the students in front of
her. The girl, Miss Yukawa or whatever, had black or perhaps
dark brown hair, cut across a few inches below her shoulders.
She had long bangs coming into her eyes, and the hair, held back
with two silver clips, was layered and framed her pale, heart-
shaped face. Her large eyes were dark blue, when Ranma caught a
quick glance of them. She was short, no more than five foot
three, and very slim. She wore a white cardigan with elbow-length
sleeves, a short black skirt, black shoes, and a silver necklace.
She was slightly pretty in a curious way. Her hands moved
quickly as she shuffled some papers and gave them to the
professor.
"Class, meet your new TA, Yukawa Himeko-san. She's from right
here in Tokyo, a sort of child prodigy who graduated at age
sixteen while enrolled here and is already working on two degrees
now--theoretical physics and biochemistry. This is part of her
work, so please respect her as she works with me." He bowed, then
the TA turned to the class and gave a graceful bow. "Yoroshiku
onegaishimasu," she said softly. "I am very pleased to work with
you all."
The class sat in stunned silence. Burashu, naturally, broke it.
"All right! Class is starting, everyone get out paper and
pencil. I have a quick pop quiz to see what you all can recall
from your previous physics courses! Yukawa-san will pass out the
papers. You may begin in five minutes."
***
"I want out," Ranma mumbled as he stared at the syllabus.
"Ryoga! I'm gonna die! I didn't realize that having taken that
one sissy science class back in freshman year somehow means this
one comes next!"
"You'll survive. Remember, he's setting a scale. 50% is passing
the class. So don't worry, man. I gotta go to the math class!
See ya later!"
Ranma looked at his paper. He had answered the first question
right--a very basic Newtonian mechanics question involving
spheres colliding and some angles. Nothing else worked. He had
received half credit for some of the rotational motion work, but
that was a total shot in the dark. If he wanted a passing grade,
he would have to get outside help. He *could* always drop the
class.
Which one would it be? Ranma looked at Burashu's schedule, and
noticed that Yukawa's schedule was there as well. She had the
next thirty minutes free; Ranma decided to converse with her
about leaving the class.
***
"Computers," Himeko muttered to herself as she poured herself
some tea and typed a few more constants into the program. She
had, on a whim, designed a program simulating--to a very limited
extent, of course--quantum foam. After she managed to establish
a pattern, she wanted to make a screensaver out of it for her
laptop. For some reason, the 3-space vectors were looking very
strange.
"Ah, there we go. I was in cylindrical coordinates." She pressed
a button and the screen cleared for a moment, then went back to
plotting a bizarre surface with holes, bubbles, bridges,
contortions, and all sorts of anomalies. Himeko smiled at this.
She had input a program to associate a certain pattern with a
certain number, and if she were lucky, after twenty frames of the
surface shifting, it would have changed back to the beginning.
This ought to be amusing. She stopped the program and stared at
the code. Surely there was a way to. . .
A knock on the door jerked her away from her thoughts. With a
sigh, she called out. "Come on in!" As the doorknob turned, she
typed a few more lines of code into the program.
A student walked in, a well-built boy, nineteen years old, with
long black hair pulled back and he was looking at her with
startling slate-blue eyes. He looked a little embarrassed to be
here, and held his earlier quiz in his hand. Ah, wasn't he the
boy who didn't seem to understand? "You are. . .? Please have a
seat." She sounded so uncertain, she knew. Himeko was too shy,
too inexperienced with real teaching, for something like this. .
.*why* had Burashu put her schedule on his? "Um. . .how may I
help you?"
Ranma was surprised at her gentle voice. "I'm Saotome. And, um,
well, you see, I need to drop the class. I was mistaken in
taking it. You see--" trying desperately to save face, he looked
her in the eyes. "It's not like I'm stupid or anything, but. .
."
"I didn't say you were stupid," she said, her voice quiet. "It's
all right. I understand." Then she sat forward a little, her
eyes bored into his for just a moment, and Ranma detected
something intensely brilliant in the dark blue eyes, and an edge
to her soft voice. "However, know now that this class will not
tolerate slackers or apathy. If you want to stay in, you *will*
work, and you *will* learn." She sat back in the chair and her
eyes were gentle again.
Then, Ranma took a good look at her face. The big blue eyes. The
lovely mahogany hair, silky dark tresses flowing down her slender
back. Her silky, satin-smooth, ivory-pale skin. Her sweet, shy
smile, the startled look that belonged to someone *he* knew.
Something looked so familiar; he could not quite place it. She
did not remind him of Akane--not at all. Nor was she like
Shampoo or Ukyo. . .those names ran through his mind with a
bitterly painful twinge before the cold snap passed and Ranma
blinked, coming back to his senses. Himeko's right hand was
fingering her necklace, or rather, the silver ring on it. Her
eyes looked at him, questioning.
[ Come on. It's been three years. They all packed up and went
home or wherever when. . .when Akane and I got formally engaged.
. .figured there wasn't anythin' left to stay for. . . ]
"Saotome-san?" her voice came back to him, disembodied, floating
in the space of his thoughts. Quickly, Ranma brought himself
back down to earth, and nodded. "Sorry. I was. . .um, trying to
understand the calculations for the fifth problem."
Himeko looked. "Oh, that. I understand that Professor Teki did
not go over this part last year. It involves the harmonic
functions of--"
"No, no. I only took *one* freshman class, introduction to
science or something. I'm not suppose to be in this class at
all." Ranma tried to explain his incompetence. "There's no way
I'm gonna survive this class. I need to drop it, fast, before my
grades get worse. I mean, I only know mechanics, a bit of
electricity, and the first few pages' worth of optics. I don't
know any of this fancy Gauss stuff and whatnot."
"I see." Himeko tried to process it. "You really need to talk to
someone besides me to handle this one. But, um, I think that you
should really stay in the class. It's not as if you're the only
student from that class who is here, you know. . .besides, it
would be hard to switch into another class. You are already in
the smallest one. And this is an elective, so I assume you
*want* to learn physics." Her tone almost implied that he
*should* want to learn. Ranma was slightly annoyed, until he
remembered that he *had* elected to take the class himself.
"True." Ranma thought it over to himself. "Can I take it pass-
fail? Or audit? I just don't know--"
"Pass-fail, no. As for the rest. . .um. . .talk to Professor
Burashu for that," she said again, sounding a little unsure, her
fingers fiddling with some papers filled with strange-looking
equations. Ranma looked at her. God, the girl was *young*!
"How old are you?" Too late, he remembered it was not very polite
to ask such things.
"Eighteen," she replied with a gentle smile.
"You're younger than I am," Ranma mumbled, startled. "S-sorry to
be rude. It's just that Burashu-sensei. . .said. . ." he looked
at her, taking in the fresh, pretty features. "I'm nineteen. .
.so I was kinda surprised. . ." He flushed, hoping she would let
him live this down. "Err, sorry, sorry."
Himeko smiled, her hand rising to hide her mouth in ladylike
politeness. She was clearly amused, but Ranma noted with relief
that there was only mirth and no mockery or derision in her eyes.
"I see," she said, laughing gently at his blunder. "It's
perfectly fine." She gestured at Ranma's folded test paper.
"Pull up a chair. Perhaps we can solve the problem without you
needing to drop this class. Shall we start discussing?"
***
This was amazing.
It was not the first time, but Himeko was always surprised and
gratified when it happened. She *loved* her studies, and despite
her shyness, if it got down to business, all the bashfulness
melted away, her hands stopped shaking, and she forgot that she
was nervous in front of other people. She was doing something
she loved as much as life itself. Therefore, she looked very
professional, knowledgeable, and helpful to everyone who passed
her office.
Ranma was particularly impressed. Never had he met someone like
this, especially someone *younger* than he was--a girl who now
expertly and fluidly leading him by the hand through a labyrinth
of equations and concepts. He watched her eyes, bright as they
were, gliding over the paper and quickly processing the jumble of
information laid out in thick textbooks that she grabbed from
some ancient wooden bookcases.
She did a particularly good job, sensing when he needed help.
Darn, he thought with no little envy, this girl is a good
teacher. Eighteen years old and doing this, he mused with
incredulity. He was a martial arts prodigy; he should not have
been so surprised to find the same sort of talent in other areas,
and in other people. It was just that he did not often have such
close contact with persons of admittedly high intelligence.
Thirty minutes passed before the doors flew open, slammed with a
loud bang on the walls, and the jovial professor came in,
carrying a stack of wooden boards with all sorts of homemade
circuits taped to their surfaces. Ranma, alarmed at the product
of home-brewed science, shifted the chair forward. Himeko looked
up, laughed, and found a cardboard box for the concoctions.
"Saotome, right? Ah, I see you've already decided to study for
the class! That's great, exemplary, just wonderful!" He laughed
as he grabbed a book and some papers, muttering about grading.
Then he turned to Ranma again. "Glad to see you're making full
use of the TA. I've got enough going on as it is--I'd love to be
with the students more--but you all will have to go through her
most of the time." He threw a stack of folders next to Himeko,
who barely dodged the missiles. "Anyway, she's very capable,
just a tad shy, so I'm hopin' you guys will be nice to her.
Isn't that right?" He patted his student on the head, leaving her
slightly dazed from the mad rush of chatter and movement. Ranma
suppressed his laughter--this professor was Speedy Gonzalez on a
caffeine high, no doubt about it. Himeko gave the teacher a few
wary glances as he poured himself a big mug of coffee and shut
the door on his way out.
Ranma looked at her and smiled.
"Yukawa-san, please go on. You were explaining Brewster's
Angle?"
She smiled. "Yes."
***
Akane groaned to herself as she stared at the paper in front of
her. What kind of test was this?
"Name six major antibiotics used in treating patients with
tuberculosis."
Okay, she had no idea, no idea at all. She had to admit it--she
had stayed up last night not studying for the well-announced
first test of the year, but instead, hanging out in the dorm's
studying room, which somehow and not very wisely doubled as a
lounge. Akane had been playing monopoly with some new (and old)
friends for three hours when she should have been memorizing the
chemical formulae of steroids and choice anti-inflammatory drugs.
Pencil to paper. Write, Akane, write. . .think of something.
Amoxycillin. Sure, that sounded good and was commonly used for
most bacterial infections. Penicillin. Always good for wild
guesses when it came to antibiotics. Maybe. . .ampicillin?
Rifamycins were used--that one she knew for sure.
"Draw the structure of aspartic acid."
Huh?
"Describe the. . ."
Akane stopped reading. She rubbed her tired brown eyes, ran a
hand through her short, thick hair, cut into a rounded Peter Pan
style. If only she had gone to bed before one in the morning,
then this ten o' clock test might not be so bad. Besides, she
was sure she knew, somewhere in the back of her jammed mind, how
the ribosomal interference antibiotics worked. At least this was
*pre*-pharmacy school, so she had a little bit, though not too
much, leeway for days like this. Besides, the professor was
nice. Akane should pass without too much trouble.
"If your employer, Doctor Hisaka, orders an unusually large
quantity of Valium under his name, what should you do?"
Call his boss and make not-too-vague hints of substance abuse,
Akane thought with a dry smile. Funny how they tried to teach
you ethics in these classes. She wrote that, then added
something mentally: next, replace his order with similar-looking
laxatives. She smirked a little, then moved on.
This was not what she had expected. She wanted to study
something useful, so that if she didn't make it in the martial
arts world, if the Tendo Dojo went under, she would have a career
to fall back on and make a living. Survival was an issue here.
This was easier than medical school or anything in the sciences,
more interesting than history or literature, Ranma was in
business, and pharmaceuticals were not as "touchy-feely" (or so
Ranma called it) as nursing. So she had chosen this path.
Too bad it was *such* an awful choice. Akane could not count the
number of times she promised herself that she would quit. But
there were two reasons she did not: one, there was nothing else
she wanted to study anyway. Two, Doctor Tofu was covering her
college expenses. Money was not coming easy: Kasumi scrimped and
saved despite marrying Tofu, the doctor--she had to finance
Akane; Nabiki lived on a shoestring stipend and studied off a
scholarship far away in America at the University of Chicago;
Ranma. . .Ranma was on an athletic stipend. Besides, Akane
wasn't sure that he would not be happier camping in the woods and
living there anyway. This was just *her* problem. Akane could
not help but feel a little grouchy at that idea.
No point in complaining. Akane kept taking the test.
"Describe the medication you might administrate to a patient with
moderate fever, complaints of malaise, and slurring of speech."
The guy's probably got medulloblastoma.
***
"Hmm, first day. . .could've been better, but not too bad,"
Himeko thought silently as she finished her glass of water,
stuffed her calculator into her purse, and made sure that she had
marked all the papers. Seven o' clock, by her book, was time and
a little past for dinner. The day had been quite tiring for her.
She was the TA for two classes, and had to shift gears when she
walked into the biology building to work on that dissertation for
her biochemistry degree. Miyake-sensei, thankfully, was most
helpful. She had known him from earlier days, joining a special
'young scientists' group at the university while she was still in
high school. He was her supervisor now, as well as her thesis
advisor for the next seven years.
Fate could not have been kinder towards her--in some ways.
She lived in her grandma's old house (her family was not very
intact and had quickly disintegrated), which was very lucky for
her: a girl on her own rarely had such good provisions. As it
was, she had a nice, pretty house in Meguro. The home, near the
end of the dead-end little street, was a small, standard A-frame
house. It was painted white, and there were some large trees in
the background, framing the house and making it seem like a
cottage. The lawn was a little overgrown, but flowers lined the
path of the driveway and the sidewalk leading up to the door.
Himeko did not own a car; she took the bus, train, or she walked.
More flowers were in wooden boxes that perched precariously on
the wooden windowsills--all her grandmother's doing. She had
raised Himeko. Back when she was alive. Before Himeko was more
or less on her own.
When necessity dictated it, Himeko occasionally stayed at her
friend's dorm. Yoshikawa Raiha, a good friend from high school
days, was a sophomore preparing to study architecture. For
unexplained reasons, she had a double dorm to herself, which made
it easy and handy for Himeko's occasional visits. Himeko did not
have undergraduate living quarters, but she did have all the
staff dining discounts and other such bonuses. It was not all
that bad, as the cafeteria food was decent, most of the
professors were kind to her, and Moboroshi-san made great coffee.
Besides, Miyake-san and his wife, Haneno-sensei, were practically
her parents on campus. It made the reclusive, admittedly one-
track minded, not to mention shy girl feel much less lonely.
It was the second week of April, school just beginning, and there
was a huge influx of freshmen on campus. Himeko smiled, glad
that she had gotten the bachelor's degree out of her way by the
day she first set foot on campus as an official student. By now,
her master's was finished. It was good to know that her next
seven years were devoted to study. Now that she had a goal and a
grant, she could start tackling other parts of life, no longer
having to worry as much about a roof over her head and food on
the table.
Now she could look forward to a good night's. . .what was this, a
message? She pressed the button.
<Beep>
"Moshi moshi, Himeko? This is Professor Miyake. My wife and I
though you might want to have dinner with us, plus we can discuss
your thesis together, I'm particularly excited by what you
mentioned about the chemiosmotic--anyway, we can discuss this
later. Would you mind coming out to dinner with us? We planned
on going to the Pasta Grill, you know, the one right off campus.
Call back, please! ASAP!"
<Beep>
Ooh, dining out! This was rare enough! Himeko smiled with
anticipation as she picked up the phone and started to dial.
***
"Moshi moshi, this is Miyake. . .yes! Good, glad you got the
message. . .yes, that's right. . .I'll pay, by the way. . .oh,
come on!. . .Yes, do bring your materials; I have some things to
show you and some suggestions. . .six sounds good. No
reservations, I don't think. . .I'll call anyway. Yes. Bye!"
***
"Um, Akane, you do know that I work on Monday, Wednesday, and
Sunday nights at the Pasta Grill." Ranma hefted his backpack a
little, looking at his annoyed fianc�e. "You can come, but I
won't be accompanying you at the dinner table, that's all. I
mean. . .I'd love to. . ."
No, he did not really want to, that was the problem. He did not
need to have a nice dinner with her. He had far too many things
to think of just now. For instance, that problem set from
physics class.
"We've hardly seen each other since Spring Break," Akane
complained, mumbling half to herself yet hoping that Ranma would
hear. "If you don't want to put up with me--" here she glared at
him--"fine, I can deal with it. Jerk." She added the last word
under her breath, hoping that it would stimulate him into at
least a response.
Yes, that was the problem. Not hate, not dislike, but general
apathy. Since her. . .declaration of love. . .three years ago,
they had been together. How could it not be? She had said it,
and he had heard her. There was no way the family, not to
mention the friends on both sides, was going to let them escape
the trap of carelessly spoken words. He had thought she loved
him--had thought that she was all he had ever wanted. After all,
his heart quickened when she stepped near, his blood pounded when
another male touched her, and she acted likewise towards him. He
missed her when she was gone. She was sad when she hurt him.
Too bad it did not *really* amount to love.
Too bad it amounted to two people who had once loved each other
with the slow burn of fire and ice, but the love had melted away,
leaving behind only emptiness. At least there was little, if
any, real hurt. It was a silently, unspoken, mutual agreement,
one reached by two mature parties who knew enough to stay
together because there was no choice, or at least, no better
choice.
He knew it, and she knew it. Something stubborn, something like
shreds of affection and love, clung to their joined forms. Now
and then, one of them felt guilt, or perhaps the last sparks from
the smoldering embers, and would try to grow closer, but it was
always futile.
They *wanted* it *back* with all their hearts. They wanted to
recapture the love, or whatever it had been, of those days when
they sat together awkwardly in a park. When they were so
uncomfortable, yet hearts were beating and a sort of passion
flowed between the two.
It had disappeared all too soon.
When had they first realized it? It was probably after
graduation, when the two stood in the school yard, wearing
uniforms--yes, Ranma had put one on for the occasion--with
ribbons pinned to the clothes. They were standing with the
cheering students and teary-eyed teachers watching the youths
move on with life. It ought to have been such a happy moment.
College came up next: freedom, adulthood, and of course, love.
Ranma and Akane had watched couples, arm linked in arm, walking
around the campus and talking about their plans for their
futures, together. Graduating students tore off the second
button of the uniform and gave it to their younger loves.
They had looked at the couples, knowing that some would end in
vows and others in tears.
They looked at each other surreptitiously, stealing glances when
they could. They had laughed, cried, and stayed by each other
for the entire last year of high school. Knowing that the two
were *finally* an official couple, everyone had left them alone
as much as possible. Ukyo had left for Osaka. Shampoo had gone
back to China to face the wrath of her tribe. Mousse and
Cologne. . .who knew what happened to them. Kodachi was
institutionalized, a relief to the general public. Kuno. . .Kuno
was himself, but he had gotten the message and now only pursued
his Pig-Tailed Goddess. At any rate, they had looked at the
madness around them, and realized that despite their holding
hands, their souls were as far apart as could be.
Now they had each other's company, all they could ever want, and
more. There had been time to settle down and talk: training in
the park, drinking milkshakes in a sidewalk caf�, eating ice
cream cones, sitting at the beach, or strolling through a mall
together. By everyone's thoughts, this should have fostered
their young love, made it grow, nurturing it like sunshine and
water on a bud, gradually revealing its true form as the lovely
rose of love.
By the start of their second year of college, it was painfully
obvious to even Kasumi and Nodoka that it had not happened. They
should have become lovers now, true lovers.
Akane refused to give up, somewhere within her. She wanted to
experience it all again, and tried to get together, to look at
him, just to rekindle the old flames. Ranma was less
enthusiastic--as far as he was concerned, all the love had
dissipated. He would stand by her, be her fianc�, but there was
no hint of actual romance anymore on his part. They were hardly
friends. Bound to a now meaningless phrase, "I love you". The
meaning was lost and gone, worn away and faded like pencil marks
on old letters. They talked to each other, did not fight that
often, Akane never hit Ranma, and Ranma never insulted Akane.
You would think that things would have gone more smoothly.
He could not say no to her.
She could not take back her words.
Ranma had not had the money to buy them rings, and he had said,
at first, that he would save up and buy them. It had not
happened yet, and neither foresaw it coming in the near future.
They desperately *wanted* to love now. There had been so much
promise just a little while ago. The families counted on it.
The schools just *had* to be united, Kasumi said placidly. Love
will come one day. Why worry about that now? Besides, Akane, I
see the way you two look at each other. Surely there's love in
there somewhere.
Akane had not found it yet.
"Okay. I. . .I guess I'll go with a friend," Akane said slowly.
"I'll bring Nozaki. . .a new friend of mine from school. She's
in the same year as I am." As if to say, don't worry, I won't get
on your back or your case. I just want to be there.
Because she did, in spite of it all, feel that spark and burn for
him.
***
The Pasta Grill was an indoor and outdoor caf�, complete with
wrought-iron chairs, silk umbrellas, glass-topped tables, and
servers dressed in green-and-white striped uniforms. It was
bustling, as evening brought its usual crowds of students,
teachers, and a small percentage of everyone else.
Himeko played with her jet-beaded purse as she strode into the
Pasta Grill, a popular restaurant for both students and faculty.
She looked around the brightly-lit entrance and caught Miyake
waving to her. She waved back, apologized to several waiting
people, and managed to squeeze through the crowd and find the two
professors. They were dressed right from work: he in vest and
tie, she in a blouse and slacks. Himeko was glad she was still
wearing her skirt and shirt; she fit in perfectly. Waving, she
walked up to the table, smiled at both friends, and sat down.
She put her blue plastic binder, full of papers, on the table.
Miyake noted his own file. They were here to work as well as
eat.
Haneno Shiroki smiled at the prot�g�e, told a few jokes, and they
started to examine the menu. The international restaurant
offered a good selection of just about anything there was.
Everything was excellent; they ordered some pot-stickers, soup,
and the "University Special"--namely, unlimited coffee. No one
minded waiting for food, as this gave them time to begin the
discussion on Himeko's research and what path it should take.
She was a math professor, and not always understanding her
husband's research. However, it was interesting enough for her
to nod and listen as the two discussed something involving
certain protein complexes. When they started naming specific
amino acid sequences, complete with excessively long names,
Shiroki tuned out. *This* she did not need.
"Food's here," she announced to her husband with a tap on the
shoulder and a pretty laugh. He and Himeko hung on, discussing
yet another chain of alpha-helices until Shiroki, growing
exasperated, gave Miyake a good-natured cuff on the head. He
blinked, saw the food, and the three commenced dinner.
***
"Another pot of coffee to table O-6!" Ranma sighed as he heard
the call, brushed his uniform a little, and went to get a refill.
The outdoors portion of the caf� was always occupied with people,
and since the diner ran 24 hours a day, there would be people
outside until it became too dark for everyone except amorous
couples or astrophysics students.
"Got it, got it," he grumbled under his breath as he grabbed the
silver coffeepot and started to thread his way through the crowd
of customers, smiling at those who looked at him. Akane was
supposed to be here somewhere. He wondered just what she was
doing. His eyes ran over the crowd, but he could make out no
one, much less a girl with a short haircut, just one of many.
"Go study in your dorms, that's what they're for," Ranma muttered
as he went outside and towards the table in question. "Don't
come here and make *my* life miserable, you. . ."
"Saotome-san?"
Himeko, hand outstretched for her coffee mug, turned her head and
looked up at Ranma's startled eyes. She smiled.
"Hi," he replied with a smile, and set down some extra napkins.
"Out to dinner with the profs, I see." His eyes swept over the
two unknown teachers and he respectfully bobbed his head at them.
"Studyin' more physics?"
"You need more appreciation for science; I can see that much,"
Shiroki said with an amused expression. She looked at Himeko.
"Classmates?"
"No, he's in the physics class I teach with Burashu-san." Himeko
brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. "He came into
the office, so we. . .had a talk." She looked back at her plate,
with fried dumplings, which she had not yet touched. Himeko
looked at him, and smiled. "You work here?"
"Yep." Ranma reached out with the coffee. He got a good look at
her face, a close-up, and he could have sworn that something
looked familiar. But there had been no prodigies at Furinkan
High School, and he could not recall ever meeting her. She was
not one of Akane's many friends, and she was from Tokyo, so he
hadn't met her during his travels. He must be mistaken.
She smiled. "Are you having a nice time?"
~~~
[ Monday, 3:00 PM, Kyoto ]
"Are you having a nice time?"
The young girl blushed prettily as she looked at him, afraid of
intruding on a stranger's silence and making unwanted
conversation. Her few, but close, friends could have told Ranma
that she was far too shy to strike out on her own and attempt to
make many new friends. She would have been an inch or so shorter
than his girl form. This girl was wearing a seifuku, a sailor
uniform with a blue collar, red kerchief tie, and pleated blue
skirt the same shade as the collar and cuffs. The shirt was
long-sleeved and had little cuffs with thin white ribbon stripes.
The collar was similarly decorated. She was clearly a student of
Ichiban High School.
Ranma cursed his luck. Every second-year student from both
schools was on the collective field trip, the annual travel all
high schools in Japan take. His trip was nice enough, to Kyoto,
the ancient, beautiful, picturesque city. The two schools had
some sort of confusion as to conflicting travel plans, so they
had decided to incorporate the two schools together. As such,
and to promote "making new friends", each student from Furinkan
paired up with another student from Ichiban. Some were girl-
girl, some boy-boy, and the rest, obviously, were mixed. The
pairing would last the entire week, no questions asked and no
complaints taken.
How had he gotten paired up with someone like *her*?
>From the moment he set eyes on her, she had her head buried in a
thick, impressive book with a cover in unreadable kanji,
something involving particles and equations thereof. She looked
at him once, only to smile and apologize for being so negligent
of making plans with him for their itinerary. She did offer him
some papers from her leather book-bag.
They stood outside the hotel lobby--it was late March--waiting
for registration and the other students to gather. It was a
nice, western-style hotel, just right for a nice school trip.
Not too expensive, and not stingy.
Frankly, he did not care, not one bit, what plans anyone made.
It was just that she seemed to pay no attention whatsoever to
him. She said hi, she was polite, she asked if he wanted
anything. He said no. So she ignored him.
This was, in a way, pleasant. Ranma liked silent time. In
another way, it ticked him off. Ranma hated having others brush
him off. This girl, while not necessarily doing the above, was
doing a fair imitation of it, and he felt himself becoming just a
tad resentful of her lack of attention. Besides, that book
looked hard. Was she some sort of genius? Now Ranma started to
feel decidedly uncomfortable.
He looked at her, just as the sunset washed over her petite
figure. Her face was a delicate heart shape. Her hair tumbled to
her hips, and was tied back with a wide ribbon. The locks were
dark black, with glossy, golden-brown highlights. Her eyes were
dark blue, he saw when she glanced up from the book. He could see
that she had a small-hipped, willowy figure, and was very slim,
almost frail-looking. The red and orange sunset illuminated her
skin shades of gold and cream. She wore no jewelry--no earrings,
no necklace, no watch or bracelet.
All right, he could certainly put up with her for a week. She
wasn't going to be *trouble* as far as he could tell.
"Yeah," he said.
~~~
"Yes." Ranma smiled at her, taking in her face, not realizing
that his grip had loosened around the handle of the coffeepot.
"Watch out!" The male teacher's voice, in alarm.
"Owww!" The woman's cry.
"Kyaaaa!" Himeko's voice.
Ranma blinked, then gulped, as he realized he had dropped the
coffee and it had fallen on the table, splattered its boiling-hot
contents all over the table, mixed with the soup, and destroyed
Shiroki's white silk blouse. Himeko, startled, was holding a
burned hand. Miyake, wishing to prevent injury to the epidermis,
jumped up and poured the pitcher of ice water over the reddening
skin. Shiroki refrained from doing the same, but she grabbed her
lap napkin, wetted it, and started to wipe off her shirt
carefully. Her one consolation was that the shirt was no longer
transparent. Himeko grabbed the rest of the paper napkins and
started to dry her hand off. No blisters were forming, so they
relaxed and sent looks in Ranma's direction.
"Ah. . .SORRY!" Panicking, Ranma grabbed the coffeepot, looked at
the mess, and gulped. He would do best to keep this quiet, or he
would be fired after only a week on the job. "I'll get you the
soup and. . .and whatever you had again. Wait, I'll go get a
tray. . .wait!" He saw a friend off somewhere, and waved him
over. "Hitoshi! Can you get this table cleaned up for me?
Bring over that tray! I have to get another soup and stuff!" He
looked at Himeko, who was rubbing her sore hand, and at a
thoroughly annoyed Shiroki. "I'm so sorry. . .it, it wasn't
intentional. . ."
Himeko shook her head. "Don't worry about it. It's not a big
deal at all." Miyake looked at Ranma with sympathy. Shiroki
sighed, then dispensed with irritation and set to helping Ranma
clear the table.
***
"So then, the prof tells me, 'it's 2,3,7-triesterglycerol, but
then he said he would accept any variant of esters and
glycerol'." Akane rolled her eyes and stabbed her nacho-and-taco
salad. "I got all of part two, 'cause I know the biology thanks
to the intro course last year. . .I suck at chem right now; I'm
working on that."
The caf� was lively now, and Yukari had to speak up for Akane to
hear the soft-spoken girl's voice. "This is the first test,
though. We get lots of tests in this class; if you do fine next
time, you'll do fine on the grades. It's not like he's *trying*
to screw us over on these things. Besides, I called tyrosine-
kinase an enantiometer of succinylcholine. You can't get much
dumber than that. I mean, there was nothing about L or D, still.
. ." she shook her head and grinned. "We shouldn't've stayed up
so late playing games!"
"Yeah, really," another girl, Nozaki, spoke up. She brushed back
her long hair and groaned. "Still, you'd think he had enough to
ask without grilling us on the formula of every step involved in
glycolysis. The only one I even remembered was 1,3-
phosphofructokinase. I did think of fructose bisphosphate, but I
left it off. And he laughed at me when I mentioned that in
passing. What a jerk." She took a bite from her pasta. "Mm,
this is good stuff."
"Yeah." Akane ate another mouthful, her eyes darting around,
wondering if Ranma was anywhere. She knew he was working this
evening, and if she were lucky, maybe she would get to see him.
Problem was, everyone dressed the same, and therefore tended to
look the same. From the back, especially in a crowd, it was hard
to pick him out--Ranma was hardly the only male at Tokyo
University with long dark hair. Akane tried to be surreptitious
about this, as her friends were wont to make fun of her if they
knew that she was only thinking of him all evening. She turned
back to her food and nonchalantly bit down some more. "Yeah, I
love this place." Akane leaned back in her chair. For the whole
day, her mind had shifted between "chemistry lobe" and "Ranma
lobe", leaving little for anything else. And neither function
was getting much out of it for all the energy she had invested.
"I've got to call up Korin-san sometime," Nozaki murmured,
speculatively. "I mean, she's in med school now. I kinda miss
her and her brains."
"Only because you spent the first half of freshman year copying
*her* papers," Akane said pointedly, laughing. "I don't think
you learned your lesson until final exams week. Lucky you
managed to pass the first one, and studied before the second.
Otherwise--"
"Shut it," Nozaki retorted with a grin. "At least some of us
passed the physics final. Who had to take the makeup test?"
Yukari laughed. "All right, you two, enough is enough. What say
we get together after dinner tonight? We got that new packet on
advanced organic chemistry, the second-year stuff. It's pretty
infamous, so we might want to get right down to work." She rolled
her eyes at the thought. "I liked chem and bio just fine; I
don't like mixing the two."
"Yeah, well, we're in this school, so we've got to." Akane
finished the food, making a mental note to order the same thing
next time--the food had been most excellent. She stood and
pushed the chair back, trying to look nonchalant. "I've got to
go a little early, okay? Here's my part of the money and some
tips. . .yeah. I'll see you guys back at the dorms tonight,
right?"
Yukari and Nozaki both nodded. "Hai."
"And we can socialize, not just do the frickin' homework," Nozaki
added.
"Okay, see you there." Akane waved and walked away, trying not to
run.
She *had* to find Ranma.
***
Himeko sat down in the bus. Her hands smoothed the plastic cover
of her files, as if feeling the weight of the research contained
inside. She and Miyake had come to some very interesting
conclusions and had begun a proposal for a research project--in
other words, her dissertation had a footing.
She sighed as she looked at some dots of coffee stains on her
shirt. Unless some mild bleach took them out, the shirt was
finished. She felt a little bad for Saotome-san. What was his
first same, anyway? Saotome. . .that was a common enough name in
Japan, but it sounded familiar to her. He hadn't gone to Ichiban
High School with her, had he? She had not been friends with more
than two boys anyway. Most likely, she had seen him somewhere
before.
She closed her eyes and waited for the bus to take her home.
So tired.
***
"Clumsy idiot." Akane laughed, brushing her short hair back.
"Ranma, how could you?" Her soft voice chided him, not
maliciously, not angrily, but teasing. The gentle raillery
brought Ranma's mood up a little.
"Somehow. They were two profs and this one TA from my physics
class. I got kind of surprised, that's all." Ranma rolled his
eyes. He didn't want to tell her that her face had make him a
bit unnerved, and somehow, it was nostalgic. It would only lead
to more trouble.
"TA for physics?" Akane tilted her head. "Is that class fun at
all?"
"Sure." Ranma rolled his eyes. "I had to go for a private
tutoring session. And it's the first day of this class!"
"I thought school started a week ago."
"Just your school, not us. Students came back to school last
week, yeah, but classes started today." He smoothed his uniform,
and glanced at Akane. She was siting in the kitchen, trying to
ignore the shouting and the heavy scent of cooking smells.
"Akane, if you stay in her five more minutes, you *will* smell
like fried bacon for the next two days *unless* you take a two-
hour shower."
Oh, Akane thought. So that's why he always looks like he's
bathed and groomed.
She laughed and pointed at him with a wink. Ranma shrugged, then
looked up when someone called him name and screamed about
delivering two pizzas. He looked at Akane and smiled. "Break's
over. Gotta go now."
"Okay." Akane shouldered her purse and daintily walked out. "See
you tomorrow."
Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow.
***
"Saotome. . .Ranma."
Himeko looked at the class sheet. Now, *why* was the name so
darned familiar-sounding? Something about him seemed so close.
She had seen him for about two hours total, but she had never
really looked him in the face. Maybe he *had* gone to her old
school? She had only spent two years in high school. It was
only natural that she would forget some names.
Ah, well.
~~~
[ Monday, 3:31 PM, Kyoto ]
"That's. . .good."
Himeko paused and turned another page, trying her hardest to
suppress the urge to run. She *hated* meeting strangers. Not
that she was unbearably shy, but. . .this guy spoke coarsely,
wasn't wearing a school uniform, and was fighting with a pretty
girl from his school. Honestly, he looked like trouble. Himeko
was the conservative girl: she studied hard, she didn't get out
very often, she stuck by the rules, and spoke politely to
everyone, including those she did not like. In other words, she
was a total stick-in-the-mud, and this boy frightened her.
"So, you like it here in Kyoto?" The boy's voice came floating
over.
Himeko looked up. "Yes, it's all right. I was born here."
Her parents were scientists at the Kyoto University--he a
differential geometry professor, she pursuing a degree in
theoretical physics. They had divorced when Himeko was two. He
moved to somewhere in Europe and disappeared. She died in a car
accident. At that time, Himeko had gone to Tokyo to live with
her grandmother--who would die the year Himeko entered college.
Silence.
"Oh."
Himeko turned back to a dissertation on parity violation,
complete with works by Lee and Yang.
She glanced over the top of the page. He was fidgeting, playing
with his beat-up duffel bag. At least he packed light, Himeko
thought. All she had was a purse and a small suitcase. Enough
clothes to last the week, toiletries, some books, camera, extra
homework, and a cell phone just in case of emergency. In the
purse was money, ID, plus pen, pencil, and calculator for the
homework.
She wished he would say nothing and leave things the way they
were. If she had *her* way, she could stay in her hotel room for
the entire trip. Not *her* fault that her grandma had said she
needed a good dose of culture and the outdoors, then sent her on
the school trip.
So far, she was getting her wish.
She glanced at the boy again.
It was going to be a bad week. . .
~~~
The door opened, and Himeko stepped off the bus, clutching her
purse.
Saotome Ranma. . .he was nice enough. Maybe she would remember
him sometime. Right now, there was work to be done, and no time
for useless thoughts.
***
"G'night, Akane!" The voice of her roommate called out cheerfully
in the dark. Akane called back and threw herself into her bed.
The study session had at least replenished her knowledge of
sulfanilamide drugs. She heard Mio bump into a table before
finding her bed and tucking herself into the sheets.
"Oyasumi nasai, Mio-chan," Akane murmured sleepily as she shifted
her head.
Her face buried in a pillow, Akane thought over Ranma. How did
he like working in a restaurant? It was hard to support himself,
seeing as there was barely any money in the family. Soun was
living off teaching at the dojo. What extra money there was went
to Nabiki, the most financially promising of the three Tendo
girls. Kasumi was comfortable but no more. Nabiki knew how to
save money. Akane knew her sister wasted nothing.
Ranma. . .Ranma. . .how she wanted to reach out to him, to tell
him and look him in the eyes while she said that she loved him--
but she *couldn�t*, because it wouldn�t be true anymore. She
wanted to shout it again, but this time with more than a foolish
schoolgirl's impulse. That was nothing. At sixteen, the fatal
mistake had lead to a stagnant relationship. They had been
engaged for three years now. How she wished that something,
anything, had come out of all their time! Something more than
whatever she had now.
She could not even name it.
***
[ April 29, Tokyo, Present ]
"Darnit, Akinori! Turn off that piece of junk! Just 'cause
you're up till all hours playin' those blasted video games of
yours doesn't mean you have to torture the rest of us with them.
. ." invectives poured from Ranma as he opened his groggy eyes
and tried to shut out the ballad, which was currently blasting
over some extra speakers. Ranma could feel the vibrations in his
thoracic cavity as he shoved himself out of bed.
He needed a nice hot shower. Ranma *liked* cold showers to wake
up, but there was still that little difficulty with cold water.
He kept the transformation as much of a secret as possible, and
his roommate was fine with it, only because he had watched a few
anime where characters *did* transform into the opposite gender.
But Ranma certainly did not feel like needing two ID cards, or
two separate sets of anything. That would have made college
worse than it already was, in some ways. Those found out somehow
usually reacted badly to the knowledge. Some mocked him by
tossing various feminine items his way, others tried to exploit
it (and were quickly pounded into the nearest solid object).
Still others thought it was hilarious and never missed a chance
to throw cold water at him. After the torture that was freshman
year, Ranma and his dorm-mates had learned to live with it.
Besides, people learned by then that they really should not mess
around with Ranma. His feats in the gym, where he spent quite a
few hours every day, added to his reputation.
"Akinori, I'm warnin' ya! Turn it off before I put my fist
through that TV screen. . .geez. . .not so early in the morning!"
"What?" The music abruptly stopped. The TV turned off. "Oh,
geez! Ranma, you can't deny a guy his fun. . .just 'cause you
already got the Tendo girl, doesn't mean I can't have Garnet!"
"For gosh sakes, she's a *character*!" Ranma rubbed his eyes.
"Anyway, can't you save it for when people aren't sleeping? I
swear, if you keep this up, you'll get your butt kicked one of
these days. Maybe by me, or the guys next door."
"Quit it, Saotome," Akinori, a CE/EE double major, grumbled. He
flipped the console off anyway. "At least I don't wake up people
practicin' my martial arts at night. And *I* never broke through
a wall." Ranma, who ran the martial arts club at TouDai, was
infamous for his showing-off at club meetings as well as
occasionally staying up all night to practice maneuvers in a
tiny, enclosed area--namely, his own dorm room.
Good point. "Shut up." Ranma wandered over to his closet and
pulled out a shirt and some pants. "Anyway, you were just the
same last year, weren't you? As I recall, you managed to convert
the projector into a TV screen thing and played 'Breath of Fire'
in the auditorium."
"It was fun!"
Ranma went into the bathroom to shower. It was going to be a
long day.
***
Ranma swore loudly when he went through his backpack and realized
that he had forgotten to do his math homework. He *hated* math
with a vengeance, but it did him little good. The teacher seemed
to have a passion for Markov chains, which were indeed useful for
business purposes, but were far above Ranma's head. It did not
help that the rest of the class did not share in his difficulty,
and were zipping right through the work--so fast that there was
going to be a quick test in a week. Humiliation was the rule of
the day.
"ARGH!" He also neglected physics. He had only done his
Communications and Economics homework last night. While most
teachers did not necessarily check the homework all the time, it
was still a pain when they did. Ranma had encountered his share
of anal-retentive professors who insisted you turned in homework
in precision. Naturally, their TA's, who did all the grading,
did not really care. Slacking yet working became a fine art in
that class.
He did not realize that his bellow had been quite loud.
"Saotome-san, are we all right?" The math professor's voice rose,
and Ranma cringed. "Sorry, sir."
The professor started droning again.
Ranma wished he were dead. "Well," he realized, "I *could*
always just start on the physics, and get someone else to explain
the math later."
He opened his physics notebook and took out the problem sets.
Pretending to take notes was easy, since he sat in the back area
of the large lecture hall. He frowned when reading--he
understood and managed to do about half the problems by the time
math class was over. Perhaps he would be lucky, and neither
Burashu nor Yukawa would care about homework. Then again, since
both were passionate about their subject, perhaps not. He had
listened, more than once, while Yukawa-san chewed out a student
for not doing the work.
Ranma winced.
***
"SAOTOME! You wanna pass this class, you gotta do the homework!"
Burashu's angered voice rose. Ranma was slightly intimidated.
Burashu was serious, and he had the muscle to back it up.
Something in Ranma's brain reminded him that physics did not
necessarily get physical, but he backed off a little.
"I tried," he protested angrily, but with a bit of sulking.
True, he had not done it. Burashu was fully right in criticizing
him for it. Ranma nodded, sullen, and made a mental note to stay
up an extra two hours every night.
Yukawa-san walked to the front of the room again, this time with
a paper envelope full of transparencies for the class. She
turned on the projector and quickly slid the first piece on. On
it was a huge table of equations with an appendix of constants
and symbols. "Go ahead--you all have ten minutes to copy these
down," she said, in a tone that suggested she had already
committed all these, and more, to memory.
A girl from the back raised her hand. "Are we allowed a sheet on
exams?"
"Yes," Yukawa replied with a smile. "One eight-by-eleven sheet.
You may use front, back. . .and the edges, if you wish."
Scattered laughter came from the students.
Ranma smiled. Yukawa-san had a dry, never malicious, sense of
humor. He had managed to pick up that much from his meetings
with her. He had lost track of the private tutoring, free of
charge, she had given him. Were it not for her, he certainly
would have failed the class. She was always so kind to him.
Always encouraging. . .helping. . .never demanding. . .only
asking that he gave effort. She was quiet and calm, but he had
caught glimpses of intensity and ambition for her passion,
science. Then her eyes fairly burned with light and he was just
a *tad* more respectful of her--and he knew how she had achieved
all this at her young age.
"Okay," Burashu boomed, "let's go, guys! Another *fun* and
*exciting* day of physics! Today we expand our knowledge of
certain special electrical fields--we're going to have some PHun
with them! Get those notes out!"
*Now* Ranma wished he were dead.
***
"Screw you, Ranma!" Akane hollered angrily as she yanked on her
clothes. Thanks to his interference, she had been totally
humiliated in from of her friends last night. It was some stupid
thing, involving drunken students and party stunts. Ranma and
Akane had stayed sober, true, but one inebriated guy had aimed
his intentions at Akane, who screamed and fled. Ranma,
naturally, had stepped in to protect his fianc�e, leaving her
feeling humiliated. It *had* been sweet, Akane fully
acknowledged that, but now there were jokes in her kempo club
about Akane, the club leader, running from a fight.
"What did your fianc� do?" Yumi, a friend, popped up and asked.
"You invited him to that party. What did he do, hit on another
girl? But we both know he's not that type."
"That was not necessary," Akane replied, simmering a little. Old
habits die hard. "Anyway, it's a long story. I'm just mad."
"I see," Yumi murmured without a twitch. "Let's go to class,
Akane."
***
"Why am I doing this?"
Ranma asked himself, but expected no real answer.
He stood outside Burashu's office once again. One month was
behind him, and Ranma was somewhat enjoying school. He was
barely passing physics, and this was *only* due to his weekly
tutoring sessions, courtesy of Yukawa-san. Come to think of it,
he had learned a lot about her, and he had grown to like her.
She was still his TA, and he was still his student, but he now
regarded her as more of a friend. Her attitude was more on the
professional side, and she never tried to be casually friendly.
The troubling part was, he had taken a second look at her in
class.
That was the only reason he was here. He did not need any help
with the class; he simply wanted to talk to her. Any excuse
would do.
He saw when she held her hair with barrettes, or pulled it back
into a clip. He noticed whenever her hand went to the ring on a
necklace and she fiddled with it during class--or during a study
session. When she passed by, he tried to catch a glimpse of her
face. Darn it, he thought. Saotome, this has to end. For gosh
sakes, she's your TA. Not a friend, not a girl in class, not
some random graduate student. Your *teacher*. You did not go
and start liking your professors! At that thought, he swallowed.
The door opened, and Himeko came out with papers under her arm.
"Good morning, Saotome-san."
Then his mind blanked. What had he come to ask for?
"Morning, Yukawa-san."
By the time he got the words out, she was gone. He cursed
himself. How was he going to get the homework done? Just
because he had thought of. . .that. . .didn't mean it had to ruin
everything! "Wait! I needed to ask you something about today's
lecture!"
Perhaps she did not hear him, for Himeko went on walking. Ranma
groaned and ran after her, then stopped when she slowed and
turned around, her face surprised. "Saotome-san? Do you need
something?"
"Yes!" Ranma caught up and practically shoved the book in her
face. "I don't get this new topic at all! We didn't cover any
of this last year, and I really need some help with it." Truth be
told, he was also happy at the prospect of spending some time
with her. "So, I wondered, when can you, um, help me with this
thing?"
"Not until tomorrow," she said, biting her lip. "All my free
time today is going towards my research. I have neglected it
badly, so I need to get some serious work done." She sighed. "I
know, I know that I am also responsible towards the students,
but. . .well. . .sometimes things have to give." She looked at
the floor, seemingly frustrated with her lack of time. "Sorry.
I will see you tomorrow, in class. Is that all right?"
"Yeah. Sorry to bug you." Ranma turned and walked away.
He was slightly surprised to find himself more upset at the
prospect of not meeting her than losing help. After all, he
could always go to Ryoga. He had not gone to his friend once for
physics homework. It had always been Yukawa-san. He had kind
of, well, like it better that way. She was the teacher, right?
"And you're not supposed to like your profs!" Ranma swore under
his breath. He turned and watched Himeko disappear into the
crowd of people running around the university's hallways.
Darn.
It was not as if other girls never caught his eye, or Akane never
took a second glance at another boy. No, they were both human,
and occasionally noticed someone else. It had never been
anything beyond a glance, the thought of "looks cute". Passing
by someone did not qualify as anything beyond just that, a
passing. That did not stop him, or Akane, from occasional bits
of jealousy when the other looked away. Besides, their bond was
not as strong as it once had been, or could have been.
Did that account for Ranma's eyes turning the other way?
He could not justify unfaithfulness to his fianc�e. He knew that
Akane's biggest expectation, the one thing she pounded him for,
was faithfulness. They were engaged, and she expected him to
behave as such--though it was often without regard to
circumstances. Still, if she did not play around, neither should
he. He had no right to be doing this.
A passing student nearly knocked Ranma over, effectively jerking
him out of his short meditation. Swearing, he collected his
dropped books and went back to his dorms, to wait for his next
class.
His feet dragged on the floor, almost unwilling to leave the
building. With annoyance, Ranma hurried, overriding the tug in
his legs and headed outside. The air was warm and sweet, with a
lingering smell of blossoming trees and the flowers from the
botany display projects. He paused to take it in, then hurried
his steps.
"Ranma!" Ryoga came hurrying around the corner. "Akane came
looking for you. She's sitting right out your dorm building's
doors." He looked at Ranma. "Are you even listening to me?"
"No," Ranma said, his voice flat. The thought of seeing Akane
seemed to him far too heavy, like a lead weight on his shoulders.
"I can't. I have to go to the library and study."
"So study with her." Ryoga looked at his friend, peering in his
eyes. "She came all the way from her campus to be with you for a
little while."
Ranma looked at his friend. Hard to believe that they had once
fought over Akane. Then again, after Akari took a foothold,
Ryoga had backed off very quickly. "Does she really want to sit
with me while I read up on Markov Chains? Or does she have an
interest in those functions we discussed today?" His hands
dropped to his sides. "I don't feel like seein' her today,
Ryoga. I just don't."
Ryoga was one of the few people with enough insight and a long
enough friendship with Ranma to know his deeper thoughts. As
such, he knew of the rift between the two. "Calm down, Ranma.
I'm sure that. . ." That what? He had watched them for three
years and it had come to naught. "Never mind. Just go see her.
You can't leave her sitting there."
"True," Ranma mumbled, turning away from Ryoga and starting
towards the dorms. His confused friend grabbed him by the shirt.
"Ranma! What's wrong with you? You ain't acting like yourself
at all! You okay?"
Ranma turned and gave him a dark look.
"No, Ryoga."
He walked on, dreading the meeting. He walked on, and saw Akane
sitting on the bench, her face turning bright when she saw them,
then her look becoming concerned when she saw his leaden
expression. He sat down next to her and stared at his feet.
Akane swallowed. She had never seen him like this before. .
.well, so she had, but only when he was overcome by something
terribly heavy, the likes of a personal crisis. He had looked
like that when he thought she was gone--when he had lost the
dojo--when his mother almost died last year. She touched him, a
lingering, gentle, warm touch on his arm, then turned her
questioning eyes to look at his face. So handsome, yet covered
up with something else. "Ranma, please tell me, what's wrong?"
Her voice was soft and beseeching.
"Nothing." He spoke in a voice two shades louder than a whisper,
slumped over and staring at a pile of books. "You said you
wanted to go to the library?"
"Yes, but I'll let that go if. . .if you're not feeling up to
it."
"Thanks." His voice was hollow, slightly angry, definitely upset.
"Sorry, Akane. Not today. I know you came all this way, and I'm
sorry for making all this trouble for you, but--"
"See you later." A second later, she had darted from her place
and run off, visibly angry, or perhaps upset. Ranma could not
see her face when she left, but he saw her quick steps and judged
her emotions. He had been learning to read emotions now. Three
years since Akane had shown hers, and he was beginning to think
that it had done no good.
Time to head for math class.
Wasn't that the nice thing about math and science? There was
*always* a right answer, no arguments, it was right. You might
not *know* what the spin is, but there *is* one, and you can take
comfort in that thought. There was only a certain set of
solutions--clear-cut, carved into the laws of nature by divine
choice or cosmic processes, something you could not violate or
argue.
If only life was like that, he thought. Boring, but at least. .
.easy.
End One
***
Thank you very much for reading! ^_~
---Irene
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