Sorry if you got this message twice. Some people didn't get this
message due to a configuration messup on the FFML, so I'm resending
it.
----- Forwarded message from Irene <otaku220@yahoo.com> -----
Date: Sun, 13 Jan 2002 12:23:54 -0800 (PST)
From: Irene <otaku220@yahoo.com>
To: ffml@anifics.com
Subject: [FFML] [R1/2] Clear Day #3
Hey! Tired of it yet? ^^;;
Here's the latest chapter...finals are coming, and I wanted to get as much
written as I could, before I have to *really* buckle down and study. -_-;;
I woudl love to receive any and all comments, good and bad. I especially would
like comments regarding my handling of characterization and plot. ^^ At any
rate, I hope you enjoy the story.
**************
Three || Amai Ame || Sweet Rain
(Note: MASH = "Mansion-Apartment-Shack-House", a humorous
fortune-telling game practiced by girls at sleepovers.)
o/~
"Sweet Child o' Mine"
She's got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything was
As fresh as the bright blue sky
Now and then when I see her face,
She takes me away to that special place,
And if I stared too long,
I just might break down and cry
Woh, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine
Woh, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine
She's got eyes of the bluest skies
As if they thought of rain
I hate to look into those eyes
And see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
To pray for the thunder and the rain
To quietly pass me by
Woh, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine
Woh, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine
Where do we go now?
Where do we go now?
Who, oh, oh, sweet child o' mine
o/~
[ May 11, Tokyo, Present ]
"Happy birthday, Yukawa-san!" Ranma threw open the office door.
Himeko looked up, surprised. There were a few cards lying on her
desk from various friends, yes, but how did Ranma know?
"Thanks," she said with a smile, and suddenly started coughing.
Ranma looked at her, concerned. "Sensei?"
"Nothing," she said, dabbing at her face with a tissue. "I'm
getting over a cold, nothing serious." It was simply a reminder
that pulling all-nighters in the lab for two consecutive nights
was generally not a good plan, especially since she was already
under stress. Besides, she was not exactly robust as far as
health went. "How was class today? You understood everything?"
"Yes." Thanks to Ryoga, that is. "About that test?"
The test had been administered on Monday, two days after the
Constitution Day festivals. Half the students were recovering
from inebriation from impromptu parties; the other half were
asleep from having stayed up too long. Ranma belonged to neither
group. He simply had blanked out on the test. "Yeah. I was
wondering how much we had discussed on this--" he pointed to a
question set, "--in class."
"Everything in the textbook is fair game," she said, with no hint
of sympathy. "I believe it was on the testing syllabus. You
needed to understand how to derive the first two equations, and
how to apply the rest to the problems." She glanced over the
numerous red markings. "And we *did* discuss, albeit briefly,
the spectra associated with them." Then she softened. "I'm sorry
it went badly. I understand that it came at a bad time, but
Burashu was adamant. He wanted 'to see which students understood
to prepare for a test no matter what'." Himeko shook her head and
sighed. "I had no control over it." She coughed some more.
"Take a rest," Ranma said without thinking. He looked at her and
decided that she really looked too pale. "Get some rest or
something."
Himeko laughed softly. "Not a chance. I don't have that luxury
these days, what with research and all. I'm lucky to even *have*
something to work at and do. I can't afford to fall behind.
Anyway, it's very minor, and I'll be back on track in a day or
two." She disposed of the used tissue and shrugged. "Anything
else, Saotome-san?"
"No." Ranma bowed, thanking her for answering the questions, and
left the office. It was so unreasonable, yet he had wanted to
grab her by the shoulders and tell her to get some sleep. She
looked tired, heck, if she was sick and working these hours, she
*had* to be tired! He wanted to get some sense into her head--
ah, but what was the use? "Those scientist types are all the
same," he muttered to himself as he went down the hallway.
"Never think of anything beside their stupid research. . .can't
get their heads out of the textbook. . .don't understand how
anything works in the real world. . ."
He stopped.
Why these thoughts in contempt of Himeko?
Well, it was probably the festival. . .to cut his bad memories
short, he had run into Soun and Kasumi, who inquired where Akane
was. When he didn't know, things had gone badly from there.
Nodoka was at home, of course. . .as least Ranma had not had to
deal with his mother. The entire episode, complete with shouts
of "have you abandoned my little girl?!" and pleads of "Ranma-
kun, you really should be looking after Akane-chan, you know,
after all, she *is* your fianc?e" annoyed him to no end. He had
wanted to (1) grab Soun and kick him into Osaka Bay, and (2)
avoid Kasumi because he could no longer stand the tearful, oh-so-
brave, sweetly, long-suffering aura she gave off, however well
she meant it. Ranma found it easier to tolerate blunt malice
than saintly airs.
And then he had run into his physics professor. The female one.
She had not seen him.
Ranma had, ignoring the presence of family members, run off into
the crowd. He needed *any* mental excuse or reason to jump, and
here it was. He had finally caught of to her--she was standing
in a park, under a weeping-willow tree, fiddling with her ring
and necklace. He got the sideways profile of her: she wore a
black cardigan and a thin floral skirt that fell to her knees.
He had watched her for a moment as the wind blew her hair back
and she reached back with a hand to secure a clip. He had run up
and stopped, wondering what she would think of him if she knew he
was following her.
And he had admired her silhouette, there in the breeze.
Himeko had turned around and smiled, waving, before hurriedly
leaving the scene.
Ranma found it maddening that she had left so soon--all right, he
admitted to himself, she might simply be uninterested,
unavailable, or thought that Ranma was stalking her.
Alternatively, she was busy and had to go somewhere. He
considered the last most likely. Somehow, as he stood there, it
had angered him. Now it came back.
What was it with her? Why couldn't she simply sit back, cut
loose, and have some fun on a festive day? Why couldn't she
*ever* take a rest from her breakneck work?
She's so *stupid*!
Ranma could rage all he wanted to himself, but he had learned to
be perceptive. Therefore, he knew. He just wished that she had
paid attention to him. Ranma hated being ignored, he hated
rejection from those he cared for.
. . .cared for?
***
Akane rubbed her sore muscles. Nozaki had been kind to lend the
equipment, and Akane was glad she had worked out. The only bad
thing was that she had missed seeing Ranma. It had not mattered
much: the pool was closed, so Nozaki and Akane trained together,
chattering about sports in general. The campus was rarely this
calm, this quiet, this peaceful.
She wished it could be like this more often. Today, for example,
she was sitting in the *library* and it was a tad hard to
concentrate. Too many people were rushing around, trying to find
materials or trying just to get things done. Too many people had
fallen behind just because of the weekend, including Akane. She
had to bite her tongue so that she did not start making a scene;
the idiots running around and talking irked her. She could see
the librarians chiding them, and once a fellow library user
actually became angry and told somebody off. Akane sighed, and
gave a dry smile. Typical Monday afternoon on campus.
She was bored, terribly so. Tomorrow was a kempo club meeting,
day after that she was going out to a movie. Today. . .today she
had to study. Akane grimaced. She was a decent student
throughout all of school, but her heart wasn't really much into
this heavy organic chemistry. She looked at several diagrams of
compounds and a table for naming them, and almost fainted. Akane
had known that medicine involved plenty of memorization, but this
was becoming ridiculous. Come on, she thought in annoyance, I'm
supposed to dispense, not actually make, the blasted pills.
Leave *this* for those nuts!
Griping inwardly, Akane pulled out her notebook and started
jotting down the important facts. As she did so, she sighed.
Why did *everything* have to be important?
***
"Hey, Himeko!"
She turned to see the door opening and Shiroki walking in.
Himeko flashed a smile. "Shiroki-san? Something going on?"
"Not much, Miyake asked me to drop these off." Shiroki tossed
four centimeters' worth of papers onto the desk, then peered at
the girl's face. "My, you look tired today."
"Don't we all? No rest for the weary, is what Miyake-sensei
always said. Or was it 'wicked'?" Himeko rubbed at her tired
eyes. She looked at her mentor, and noted that Shiroki, too, had
some dark areas under the eyes.
"Weary, and he was right. You okay?"
"Oh, just getting over something." Himeko shrugged it off. "Not
a good day, but not terrible." She patted the files. "Thanks!
This means I can start on a rough draft of the proposal tonight,
or whenever I have free time." She sighed. "Technically, I never
have free time. It's only a matter of rearranging what time I do
have. I wish somebody would break the space-time continuum and
free up just another hour or so."
"Don't we all? See you later!" Shiroki left, closing the door
carefully as she exited the office.
Himeko smiled, decided to ignore the physics for a while, and
picked up the files. Another spasm ran through her, and she
brought her hand up to cover her mouth. The coughing passed
quickly enough, and she sat for perhaps ten seconds, trying to
catch her breath, drawing air deeply into her lungs. Then she
sighed. Perhaps Saotome-san *was* right and she need to go home
and sleep this off. Most colds did not bother her for more than
a week, and this was not influenza. Still, anything minor
lingering this long meant she had some health issues. Probably
stress, she thought with a sigh.
But she couldn't skip the lab tonight! Someone was using it for
the rest of the week--in fact, fights for lab space here were
legendary for the creativity of language on the irascible
researchers' parts. You would not think that five or six nuclear
physicists collectively *knew* that many swears, or could dish
them out in such rapid, colorful succession. Then again, when
results did not turn out, especially in a dramatic, important, or
costly experiment, one's only consolation was hunting for new
curses to throw at the equipment or one's self.
Well, she could sleep *tomorrow* night. However, if she put off
the physics today, then that would mean she had to stay up some
more, if she wanted to get them graded in time for the new unit.
Besides, it was her birthday! Somehow, it seemed unfair that
Himeko could not even enjoy her birthday at home or with some
friends. No, she would be stuck in a lab, running checks on
reagents and writing those proposals. Despite her love for
science, there *were* times that she wanted to kick the computer,
throw a flask or two against the wall, and take a scalpel to the
wasted papers. Rare they were, but they existed nonetheless.
She pressed her lips tightly together. What kind of scientist
ignored work for such trivial reasons? To the lab she would go.
And if she had to, she would bring in a tray of cupcakes for her
friends and eat them right there on the black-painted tables.
Never mind the food taboo. Yes, she could bring in some goodies
from the corner marked right near the university. Bring some in
for the lab techs, for Miyake, and she could invite Raiha too. .
.
~~~
[ Tuesday, 8:30 AM, Kyoto ]
"Hey, that's good! Try some." Raiha pushed the plate of hash
browns around. Himeko took some, as did Chiyo and Ranko. Ranko,
for one, did not seem very awake. "Ranko-san," Raiha said in
concern, "are you all right?"
"The closet ain't that comfy," the girl retorted, mumbling to
herself. The girls didn't seem to be so angry about the problem
anymore, but they still seemed inclined to force the half-girl to
sleep in there again. "I got about three hours' worth." Ranko
rubbed at her eyes and started to eat. Once she did, she felt
better; light appeared in her dulled eyes again and Ranko ate
ravenously.
Raiha, Himeko, and Chiyo blinked.
Himeko hid a smile. She, for one, had pity for the redhead, but
dared not speak up too strongly and thus offend the other two
girls. "If you ask me, it's all right if she sleeps on the floor
too. The closet might not be that nice." *She* had no intention
of sleeping in there.
"I dunno," Chiyo murmured. "Not like I'd mind, but it's not the
same as having your brother sleeping in your room."
"It's not like Ranko's going to attack you or something," Raiha
said speculatively. "Yeah, guess we got too carried away last
night. And I hear we're not the only room like this. There are
more boys than girls on this trip, so. . ." she trailed off
delicately, then shrugged. "Yeah, Ranko, you want the floor
tonight? Wait, no, I'll sleep on the floor tonight." She offered
a bright smile, trying to make up for last night.
"That's just gross," Chiyo almost yelled. She looked at Himeko's
mug, full of hot tea. "It's *disgusting* I tell you! What's
wrong with you people?!" She didn't see Ranko hanging her head,
ashamed and angry.
"Disgusting or not, you can stop being so rude," Himeko snapped.
When her morals were offended, she was not so afraid. "What is
wrong is the way you are treating the situation! You think she's
*trying* to make it hard on us? She hasn't been anything but
*nice* to us!"
Raiha jumped in. "I never said I *liked* this 'problem' here,
but neither should we boot her out the window, which is
apparently what you're suggestion, Chiyo." She pointed a fork at
the girl. "You know, this *is* unnerving to me, and I *do* feel
weird around her, okay? But she's still. . .she's a girl right
now. As Himeko would say, if you drew a blood sample, you'd find
Barr bodies." She ignored a surprised look from Himeko. " Ranko
is perfectly *sensible* and a very *nice* person, so I say that
we stop all being such jerks and let him--or her, as the case may
be--within the two-meter radius." She finished the speech, and
stuffed her mouth with some scrambled eggs.
Ranko was a tad annoyed that the girls were dissecting *her* like
a laboratory specimen, but decided that since it was favorable,
two against one, she should bear it and hope to correct
misunderstandings at a later, more convenient time. Besides, if
she was a jerk now, she might wind up back in the closet. Her
vertebral column would not stand for it again. For the sake of
her bones, she kept her mouth shut.
She noticed that Himeko was the one inserting the logical
arguments, while Raiha rambled on and on with the emotionally
charged rants on being fair and humane. Tired of it all, and of
being a girl, Ranko said, "I'll be back."
~~~
[ 6:30 PM, Tokyo, Present ]
Himeko glanced through the papers; most were important past
papers that were already published, as well as an outline of what
would already be covered, and what she was specifically expected
to carry out. She remembered with a start that she needed to
make an outline for herself concerning the physics papers. She
reached into a drawer and pulled out a red plastic file labeled
"Dark Matter Research". Out of it dropped, as if by accident, a
thin folder of the sort that school kids in America used for
storing and keeping homework and papers. The dirty, well-worn
label read "Astrophysics Files". Himeko gaped at it and picked
it up gently. She smiled. It was from undergraduate days--and
even some papers, irrelevant to physics, from a while before.
Besides, a few additions were more recent.
She only kept this file in *his* memory.
Himeko ran a finger over the worn blue paper of the folder.
{ Koneru, how is he now? }
***
Ranma had no idea what to say.
Akane had not called him since last week. He had taken it as
relief on his part--he did not have to think about the engagement
or her. When he thought of her, it was not with hate. It was
with resignation and a slight tinge of sour regret. Now she was
on the telephone, her voice full of something he couldn't quite
pin. He would say fear, or perhaps anger, but it was neither.
"Kasumi called. She wants us home for the weekend, she says. .
."
"Why?" He knew that Akane wanted to go home and face everyone
about as much as he did.
"I don't know. Probably--" Ranma could just hear her hedging and
biting her lips here. "I think to give us another lecture."
"On why we should tie the knot within the next twenty-four
hours?"
"Yeah." On her end, Akane twirled the cord around her finger.
"I said that you had tons of exams coming up, but they said you
could study at home as well as at college. I said it was quieter
at school, but Daddy was kind of. . .stuck on it. I didn't know
what to tell him." She paused. Ranma would know what she meant.
He could hear confusion.
Here was the fine balance they had learned. To keep others at
bay, while admitting to themselves that they were *never* going
to marry. To somehow push it off just another semester.
"Tell him that you came down with the German measles. I know, it
sounds awful, but hey, it'll stave them off for the time being. .
.until we actually. . .if. . ."
Akane knew better. "That wasn't quite an insult, so I'll let it
slide. . .still, not a bad idea. I'll save it for the day Daddy
decides to come onto campus and find me. Or you."
"Okay."
"I'll tell him that we can't make it."
"You make up the reason. I owe you one."
"Yeah."
The telephone clicked, and Ranma set it back. Akane was
apparently over her little phase. There were times--lasting for
a few weeks--when she, or sometimes Ranma, suddenly felt. . .not
exactly amorous, that would be going too far, but a little more
receptive. That only turned to frustration, as the other would
not feel the same.
Well, it was relief again for Ranma.
Akinori was out of the room, probably playing more games with
some friends. Ranma decided to take advantage while he could and
stay in his room, reveling in the bit of extra space and privacy
he had. He would go to the gym later; something in him felt
repulsed at the thought of the crowd, the grime, and the sweat of
those places. Yes, there was always the lovely sense and balance
in the beauty of the art when he practiced, but then there were
those who intruded on it and filled the art and the place with
their inequity.
And he didn't really want to study. . .but if he didn't do his
physics, Yukawa-san would be mad at him, and then--
Ranma face planted himself into a pillow. "Cut it out, stupid.
She's a year younger than you are, she's a science freaky wierdo,
and she's your teacher. Get the thoughts out of your stupid
insane head."
It wasn't working particularly well.
"You're engaged to Akane, you letch. You couldn't get a
relationship with Akane, so why are you trying to mess around
with somebody else? She never said she was interested or even
available."
Akane had been so *nice* to him there.
Maybe she was getting tired of it, too. . .
~~~
[ Tuesday, 10:52 AM, Kyoto ]
"Let's go." Ranma smiled at Himeko, who nodded timidly. She
clutched her purse tightly with one hand; the other was at her
other side.
The breakfast argument had concluded with the girls--two of them-
-deciding that Ranma would get a futon on the floor, Chiyo the
floor on the *other* side of the room, Raiha and Himeko on beds--
for the duration of the entire trip.
"Well, I hear we're all walking to the museum, since it's only
about a three minutes' walk away from the hotel." Ranma put his
arms behind his neck in a come-what-may, happy-go-lucky stance.
Hie face was the picture of bliss. "It's gonna be a good day--
relaxing, doin' absolutely nothin'. . ."
Ranma turned his head and nearly collapsed. Himeko was reading,
*again*, that book. Yesterday she had been one-thirds of the way
through. Now she had about thirty pages left.
"Well," he thought, amused and bemused all at once, "she won't be
any trouble on the trip. I won't even have to deal with. . ."
@&(%!
AKANE!
She had no idea about the redistribution of the rooms--at least,
no idea just where Ranma was. *And* she had no idea that Ranma
was paired up with a girl: the students had received partner
assignments while loading the trains.
"If she finds out. . ." Ranma swallowed. He looked over at
Himeko, and thought over it some more. "Well, she's not gonna
latch onto me, so Akane shouldn't prove to be a problem, right?"
He could always pray.
***
[ 11:13 PM, Kyoto ]
"I didn't know that." Ranma gazed at the beautiful twelve-layer
kimono on display, made from gold silk fantastically embroidered
with tiny cranes, clouds, and tiny, delicate designs. The rich
material shone and shimmered. Age had not lessened its beauty;
the years gave it an antique, elegant, awe-inspiring aura.
Himeko pulled some random facts regarding the Heian Era from her
head, and was absent-mindedly unaware of the respect she was
garnering from Ranma--her mind was on the right-hand rules.
"After the death of Yoshitsune, Yoritomo became shogun and opened
the Kamakura Shogunate." The Science Museum of Osaka would have
been more to her taste, but she had no say.
"Ahh. . ." history did not fascinate Ranma; only the battles
interested him to any degree. "I see." The only thing he knew
about the era was that Kyoto had been the capital back in those
days. "Aren't we going to take a bus and go to the Nijo Castle
tomorrow?"
Himeko had visited once or twice before, with her grandmother.
"I think so." From what she remembered, she had enjoyed the
trip.
"And the Imperial Palace on Thursday, and that Nishi Hongan-ji. .
.oh yeah, and the Nanzen-ji Temple on Friday. What's Saturday?"
Ranma tried to recall the schedule.
"Free day." She had no plans. . .maybe sleeping or reading a
book.
"And Sunday we go home." Ranma was a little apprehensive at the
thought of returning to Nerima with all its craziness and
disregard for the normal laws of nature.
"Hai." Himeko wished he would stop asking questions and let her
read by herself. Although it *was* nice of him to be so. . .kind
towards her. Most people ignored her and would have walked right
through her, if at all possible. At least he took notice of her.
Himeko closed the book and looked around. The display caught her
eye, and she looked at the shining silk folds of the old garment,
then imagined for a moment what it would be like to wear that
thing. Probably too heavy to even walk. Then again, it *would*
look kind of beautiful. She imagined herself lifting a hand
draped with silk, and her eyes ran over the delicate lines of
raised embroidery. She could nearly feel the cool, smooth silk
under her fingers. Then she blinked, and shook her head,
bringing herself back.
Ranma stared at the kimono, remembering how Akane had looked in
the wedding kimono. Too bad that it had taken a knock on the
head to get her into those beautiful, wrapped layers of
embroidered fabric. She really had looked. . .well, good. Not
*cute* but *beautiful*. With her dark hair against the snow-
white silk. . .right before she woke up and kicked him into LEO
yet again.
He shook his head of that memory. Why couldn't he even fantasize
without a bop on the head from Akane?
"Um, Saotome-san?" Himeko's quiet voice spoke up. "I think we're
supposed to be eating lunch now."
"Really? YEAH!" Ranma bolted off towards the exit of the museum,
since they were to eat at a nearby noodles restaurant. The
thought of food went through his brain. Synapses fired like mad,
reminding his body, especially the gastrointestinal tract that
something important was going to happen. Motor neurons received
the message and got on the job, taking Ranma away with amazing
speed.
"Wait--oh, well."
***
[ 1:30 PM, Kyoto ]
Himeko slowly ate a seafood ramen as she watched Ranma start to
shovel down yet another pork-and-beef ramen. She did not want to
know how much he had already eaten. The food was delicious, and
she savored the hot, spicy food. The noodles were soft and
slightly tinged with the flavor, the shrimp and crabmeat flavor
delicately preserved, the spices and onions floated in the sesame
oil bits of the soup, spreading the fragrance.
Ranma grabbed the bowl, and ignoring all precepts of etiquette,
put the bowl to his lip and started to slurp and gulp the soup.
The hot liquid tumbled down his throat, and over the brim, he
looked and saw Himeko suddenly pointing something. He had no
chance to react--he started to put down the bowl, just as an
errant server lurched and bumped Ranma, sending his bowl tumbling
onto the table.
Splash went the liquid, slop went the noodles. Himeko jumped
back in reflex, but the food spilled all over her purse, which
still sat on the table. Her eyes widened for a moment, then she
looked slightly upset. Ranma gulped as his Akane-conditioned-
reflexes kicked in and readied him for a beating, screaming,
punting, or some combination. Or something worse, like a
tantrum.
"AAA! I'm sorry, sorry, Yukawa-san! I swear, it was an
accident!" Ranma panicked, tensing, looking at the stained,
greasy, wet bag and the growing stain on the white tablecloth.
The server, for his part, gulped and screamed his sumimasen's,
promising two free bowls of noodles to make up for his most
grievous error. He disappeared to make good his offer, while
Ranma was left, cringing, not knowing what to expect.
Himeko stood, grabbed some napkins, and went to work on the mess.
She looked up at Ranma, eyes not angry at all, and held out some
clean papers.
"Would you. . .help me clean this up?"
~~~
"Akane, where's the--oops." Mio opened the refrigerator, which
was shared among four rooms. She searched for something. "Don't
we have some sake in here?"
"Good lord," Akane said, a frown on her face. "I never thought
*you* were prone to these drinking bouts." She looked Mio. Okay,
so Japanese college students regularly threw drinking parties,
but Mio was quiet and conservative. She was not at *all* that
type of person.
"No, not for me!" Mio laughed a little, then sighed. "I want to
get rid of it or at least hide it somewhere--Nozaki's Roommate
>From Your Worst Nightmares is throwing some party, and I don't
want her. . .you know. Not like it'll stop her, but I don't want
a mess in *our* room." The refrigerator was not exclusive to
Akane and Mio's use; some of-drinking-age people lived in the
complex, and they had their own little section in the fridge.
Akane winced at the thought of the potential for chaos, and
joined Mio in the futile task. She looked at Mio and both were
thinking the same thing.
"Maybe we shouldn't sleep here tonight," Mio finally said.
Akane nodded. "Lock the door to our bedroom. Prop it up with
that big junky couch."
"Got it."
***
Himeko stepped into the lab, waving her hands. Her white lab
coat was large on her and made her tiny, delicate figure look
even smaller. Miyake turned and saw her, then gave her a warm
smile. He noted the large, full plastic bag that said "Chihiro
Groceries" on it. "What's in there?"
"Cookies!" She waved the bag and tossed it to him. "Thanks for
the card, by the way. It was really sweet." Himeko pointed to
the food. "I know, I know, no eating in the lab. Maybe we can
all move into the back room or something. They're chocolate
fudge cookies. Hope everyone likes them."
"How could anyone dislike chocolate?" Miyake laughed and thanked
his student, then went into the lab, Himeko behind him, and he
announced the presence of goodies. Chocolate cookies were a nice
break from endless cups of coffee, and the students, techs, and
professors gladly partook of the sweets. Himeko also took one
and nibbled on it as they all crowded into the back offices, away
from most of the dangerous chemicals. A short burst of pleasure
ran through the room and fueled some bits of happiness and
laughter. They wished Himeko a happy birthday and thanked her
for the cookies before going back to work.
***
"H-hello. . ."
Ranma stared. Akane was at his door, and she was not alone--a
friend was with her, standing and waving, flashing a warm smile
to Ranma. Ranma sized up the both of them and decided it was all
right. "What's up? Why are you here?"
"Escaping a party," Akane said, and then explained the situation.
"And I have no idea what happened to Nozaki. If she's smart,
she'll barricade her half of the room and crash at a friend's
place for the night." She pointed to a duffel bag. "Is there a
way we can, um, stay here?"
NIGHT?! "What about all your other friends?" Ranma had nothing
particularly against Akane or her staying in an empty room, like
the shared living room, but he was a bit uneasy. "Not like I
want you out or nothing."
"I tried." Akane bit her lip. "It didn't really work out." She
was not lying--most friends were either partying themselves or
were hosting other refugees. "Please? We'll sleep in the
kitchen or something if we have to. Just want to be, you know,
somewhere kind of. . .safer. I know that you guys tend not to be
party animals."
It was not solely Akane who convinced Ranma; having a friend
along helped, and Ranma decided that they looked truly in need
and could not refuse help. "Well, the guys in here don't throw
too many parties," Ranma admitted. "Mostly martial arts bouts.
Okay, you people can stay in the living room. It's a horrible
mess, though." He led the two girls, now breathing freely, into a
messy, somewhat dirty, and not very fit-for-sleeping room. A
beat-up sofa sat in a corner, and crumpled bags of chips lay
strewn all about. The wooden floor needed a sweeping, washing,
and waxing all at once. A few area rugs were there, stained,
dusty, and covered with stale crumbs.
Akane and Mio winced.
Ranma shrugged. "You want it, you guys clean it up. Consider it
the rent for staying the night."
"Rent?!" The two girls protested vehemently, but there was
nothing else to say, no possibility or justification of further
protest. "All right. We'll stay here."
***
"Ara, Yukawa-san, how's that research coming?" A lab tech was
running through a routine ELISA test, carefully pipetting the
various reagents into the little wells. "I hear you received
quite a few offers."
"Oh, well," Himeko said with a smile, "I suppose so." She did not
quite feel like flaunting her credentials, but Miyake spoke up
for her. "Yes, one from Princeton, two at MIT, one at Caltech,
and letters from several others." Himeko blushed, not ashamed but
shyly proud of her achievements. Miyake continued. "We'll just
have to see where she is, seven years from now."
Claps and cheers from the others came her way. Himeko laughed,
tucking a stray strand of dark hair behind her ear. "Anyway, I
have. . .lots of work to do."
"Of course!" The technician had finished with the pipettes, and
now left the test to run through three cycles. "Are you going to
work on the genome? Or perhaps. . .I don't know, what's hot
research these days? I heard a couple of professors talking
about spliceosomes."
"I have it in mind to apply for a position, researching protein
folding and tagging." Himeko fiddled with the sleeves of the lab
coat, then smiled. "Spliceosomes are quite interesting, but I
truly had an interest in how proteins move about and their
intrinsic signaling process." As she spoke, she opened a binder.
Her work, while she was here, was under Miyake: to help in
finding certain genes that seemed to be related to the p53 gene,
the "guardian angel of the genome". There were three known ways
for p53 to prevent cancer; their task was to find several more
genes that were more peripheral to the process. Miyake was
heading this research, and had the lofty enough ambition of
writing up the project for "Science", if and when the research
went well and concluded with new possibilities and findings.
"In America, of course," Miyake added. "She's of a mind to go
there. And why not? There you actually get some decent amount
of money for pure research."
Himeko smiled, and mentally added, "Besides, if I wind up at
Caltech, Koneru-san will be there with me."
Aloud she merely said, "If it all works out, I would indeed be
very pleased." She smiled as she pulled out a thick, twice-
stapled sheaf of paper covered with half-English and half-
Japanese information. "Come on, guys. Get out those gene maps.
Since the PCR ran enough times to get a *huge* stock of DNA, we
can start now." She smiled a peaceful, content yet intense smile,
her face lighting up with the expression of a child delighted
with her favorite toy. In a way, one might postulate, it was the
same for Himeko: she had found her perfection and she reveled in
its beauty.
***
"Here you go." Akane and Mio had just finished cleaning up a good
portion of the living room, and had set up an old, wiped-down
coffee table for their dining use. Akane had gone out and bought
some takeout food, namely noodles. Mio had bought some bagels
and chips. Together, they decided that there was nothing wrong
with eating all of those at the same time. Ranma had provided a
temporary key for them, and extracted promises from every male in
the apartment not to go near their sleeping spot. The mallets
that Mio and Akane had piled up right beside their futons helped
Ranma explain that they should simply avoid the area for the
night.
Akane carefully wrapped up the last of the trash into a double-
layered plastic lab, knotted the top carefully, and disposed of
it in a sturdy, though old, trash bin. The TV was blaring in a
corner; Mio was watching some sort of Italian Opera and was
mesmerized by the rolling accents, the clear vocals, the rich,
velvety voices of the singers, and the aura of magic that
surrounded the theater. Akane looked at the stage with all its
glitter and pomp, smiled, and turned back to her latest issue of
a martial arts magazine.
In the next room, Ranma and Akinori were battling it out on a
snowboarding game. He and Akinori had grown to be better
friends; both could be called "loners" and neither had many
friends, even within their respective "circles". Ranma had his
martial arts club, where he was feared as well as respected;
Akinori belonged to an anime-and-games club, but most members
were more interested in partying or watching anime that Akinori
was particularly fond of viewing.
"Hey, what's your fianc?e and that girl up to in there?" Akinori
executed a flip in midair while glancing over at the closed
wooden door. "They're so paranoid. Like we're gonna hurt them."
"Aw, let them alone." Ranma pressed a few buttons, then winced as
the little figure faceplanted in the snow. "Screw it! Anyway, I
told you why they're here. Hey, at least they cleaned the room
up pretty good. We might actually be able to use that room after
they leave."
"Uh-huh." Akinori's character jumped off a cliff and landed on a
bluish path, probably a slick trail of hard, slippery ice. "Ha!
I gotcha now. Better get yourself up, before the snow covers
you!"
"Shut up," Ranma muttered as he pressed directional buttons. The
little figure got up and somehow managed his way back onto the
main track, and started sliding down the yellow-marked path, a
fine mist of ice crystals spraying right behind him. Ranma
ground his teeth as he pushed the "forward" button, accelerating
to about 100 kilometers per hour. Akinori raised his eyebrows,
then pulled another flying stunt and watched Ranma's character
knock down a tree. Ranma winced and tried to make his character
stand into an upright position again. By the time the character
did so, Akinori's avatar had already crossed the finish line,
amidst shouts and cheers. Ranma grunted and stubbornly continued
until he reached the finish line. Akinori was laughing
uproariously, and Ranma's face took on the annoyed expression of
unwilling defeat. "Geez." He flicked his wrist, sending the
controller flying into a beanbag chair.
"Aw, Ranma-kun," Akinori teased, "don't take it so bad. You jus'
need more practice, is all. Wanna play again?" He retrieved the
controller and gave it to Ranma, a twinkle in his eyes.
"Besides, if it's any consolation to you--if we did this in real
life, you'd kick my butt. So think of this as letting me have my
satisfaction, while I can."
***
"NO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"
Himeko's friends, her few close ones, knew something about her.
Most people, those she saw on a daily basis, had never seen her
angry and could not imagine her so. They said things like, "oh,
she's the sweetest person! I can't imagine her yelling, even.
She's always so patient, so nice, so smart!"
Well, as Miyake *did* know, it was considerably difficult to get
her riled up, but when it happened--she was, in her own way,
dangerous and very intimidating. She glared with dark fire in
her sapphire eyes, her lips turned hard and thin, pale pink in
the midst of her white face. Sparks fairly flew from her eyes,
and her voice was hard and angry as she chastised the incompetent
freshman.
"I told you," she said, just barely realizing that she had gone
out of control, "that these things denature easily. I appreciate
that you took note of it. I *don't* appreciate you forgetting
that acidity is *not* the only thing to denature proteins."
The boy's eyes, guilty, fell on the wasted reagents, still
sitting in the insulating foam block. It was his job to come
around and distribute what was needed, as he was no more than
observer and extra hand in the lab tonight. He saw that Yukawa-
san hated two things--apathy and idiocy, and was well aware that
he had made a convincing show of the latter. "Sumimasen,
Professor."
"It cost a *lot* of funds to buy all our materials, this isn't
America, we don't get grants all too often," she said, trying to
bring her voice down. This was the first time most people in the
room had seen her angry, and while she had a quasi-excuse for her
show of temper, they were glancing at her, worried until they
realized that she held no weapons and was unlikely to dish out
anything besides a bitter tongue-lashing. So they decided to let
her flame die down, just like every on of them had done many a
time.
Miyake patted her on the back, giving her a quiet, paternal
warning. "Himeko, that's enough. We'll have to deal with it,
it's okay, get back to work or clean up the mess. Any further
upbraiding is only going to waste our time." He looked at her,
his eyes adding that she should have kept herself under control
better.
Himeko flushed a bit in shame, then sighed at her loss of
control. She looked at the student, who was nearly shaking.
"Gomen nasai. Now put that back in the refrigerator. Maybe we
can salvage that last reagent; it was fairly stable." Himeko
sighed. Fatigue and stress wore on everyone, and she felt bad
knowing that she might have killed off the boy's interest in
science. "I apologize." His gross error, however, still grated
on her nerves; there needed to be *some* sort of consequence for
excessively foolish behavior.
"It, it's okay," he mumbled as he sped off with the foam. "It
was my fault, I know to not do it again, s-sorry." As he stocked
things, he winced. He wanted to keep on working a bit in the
labs, but he did not know if anyone would take him anymore after
this incident. His reputation, surely, was hopelessly soiled
now. "I won't do it again, I, I. . ."
Himeko took a few deep breaths, wondering if the passing illness
had anything to do with the outburst. "Stop thinking about it.
Let's get back on track."
Her mind flittered somewhere else for a moment. Her hand went up
to her neck, were it carefully traced out the links of a silver
chain and descended until it touched a gently curved silver ring.
The fingers caressed it delicately, almost reverently, and her
eyes closed for a moment.
***
{ I don't see where this will get us. }
Akane lay in her makeshift futon, staring at the blank plaster
ceiling. Her eyes were slightly glazed over; all the emotion was
swimming in her heart, splashing, foaming, and generally in
turmoil.
{ I was such an idiot around Ranma. Even *I* can tell that it's
not going anywhere. . .but I don't want to quit. It's like we
just broke up, but I can't bear to let go. I don't even know
why; it was never *that* great or nothing. . .it shouldn't be so
hard.
What do I say to Daddy? To Aunt Saotome, especially after last
year? How do I face Kasumi? Nabiki can take it, I'm sure of it,
but she's not enough to back me. I can't stop. It's a
treadmill--and I'm not the only person who put myself on it this
time.
God, this life sucks.
And there I was, trying to get it back together-- }
Aye, there lay the sting. Didn't she still have that *teeny
tiny* desire? Akane frowned as she peered into herself, for the
picture was far too blurry for her to tell. Why couldn't she
just figure it out and let it be? She was no longer the
confused, at-times-crazed-and-violent teenager she had been. She
was *supposed* to have grown up and reconciled, at least partly,
with herself.
She mumbled the words that came so naturally to her, though their
meaning had changed--suddenly, drastically.
"Ranma no baka."
{ He doesn't exactly *attract* me in that way anymore--but
neither does he *repulse* me away from him. Darnit, Ranma! Why
must you be so. . .lukewarm? I wish you were one or the other! }
She rolled over, and grabbed a fistful of the cotton blanket.
Her face thrust itself into the small pillow, and she closed her
eyes as the cool cloth brushed her satiny cheeks.
Akane knew she was a beautiful girl. By all rights, she should
have been able to have any boy she wanted. She had never been
much interested, true, but past experience showed that she
garnered admirers, too many of them, and she could have batted
her eyelashes at one of them and gotten herself a boyfriend. She
was sure that a few boys were running on more than testosterone.
Heck, she had caught plenty of shy glances when she walked
through hallways.
Why did she have to be strung to a man she couldn't love and
couldn't hate?
~~~
[ Tuesday, 3:32 PM, Kyoto ]
"Ranma--no--BAKA!"
Akane's rage boiled from deep within her. Ranma--there he was,
the idiot! She had not seen him all day, and she certainly had
not expected to find this.
He was *walking* with a girl. Not holding hands, but he was
*close* to her, as in within ten meters. From the back, the girl
was slender and short, with long dark hair, gathered back with a
white ribbon. She wore a sailor uniform, complete with pleated
skirt, white socks, and shiny black shoes. The girl was from
Ichiban.
Calm down, conscience counseled. She is his *assigned* partner.
The *teachers* made this pairings. Besides, what with the school
policy, you would not have ended up with him anyway.
"Tendo-san, are you all right?" Ikuko's voice floated into
Akane's mind. Akane turned and blushed. "Hai. I just saw
someone I knew, and I was, um, going to wave." She bit her lip.
That was *not* a convincing story.
"You sounded angry." Ikuko was almost *too* easygoing and had no
problems with anyone, besides, she was prone to a quick temper as
well. "If you're mad at somebody, I'll wait here while you
settle the score and get it out of your system." She brushed back
her hair, which was partly up in an intentionally messy bun, with
the long front fringes falling around the side of her face. Her
eyes were dark lavender, and they looked at Akane. "Or do you
want to stop at the ice cream shop? Ice cream can *always* wash
your worries away." She giggled happily, and teasingly looked at
Akane.
"O-okay." Akane smiled gratefully. Really, there *was* something
to this business of calming one's self down. She nodded and her
hand went for her purse.
~~~
***
"Nah, that's no good. . ."
It was midnight. Himeko sat in her simple bed: wooden frame,
plain cherry-wood headboard, white sheets, white eyelet-trimmed
dust ruffle, and an western-fashioned, patchwork quilt her
grandmother had bought on a whim. Truth be told, it was the
ugliest outfit for a bed that Himeko had ever seen, but she had
not the heart to toss it, nor the extra funds to purchase a new
linen and comforter set.
A mug of coffee sat on an old nightstand. Papers and pencils, as
well as folders and files, lay strewn on the cotton bedding.
Himeko, true to her promise, was trying to start a proposal.
Her mind wandered away, as she stared at the blue physics file.
Koneru Ryushi had been excellent at writing compositions. Himeko
smiled as she leaned a smooth cheek on a hand, thinking of him.
He had helped her with English, just as she had helped him with
Japanese. Pity she had not seen him, not in person, since last
August when he had returned to the States. Sure, they sent
emails every day, wrote letters on special occasions, sent
photos, and trinkets for birthday and Christmas gifts.
But she still missed him.
His letters--love, informational, informal--they all read like
poetry and prose at the same time. He had once written her a
rant, about the state of scientific education in America, and
Himeko, who was still a bit shaky on her English, had
nevertheless been struck by his writing. Lucky, she thought with
a grin, that he had not handwritten it. Koneru's handwriting was
not terrible, but he tended to write so heavily that he tore the
paper on which he wrote. Besides, he was left-handed, and so
managed to smudge ink and lead alike.
Himeko loved to play badminton, and Koneru was a runner. They
had taken morning jogs together, both to improve stamina and to
have time to talk. He wanted to study astrophysics and she
biology; they often gave each other amusing crash-courses in
their respective fields and helped each other study. He loved
cars and machinery; she sent him models as gifts. She loved to
listen to piano music; he sent her CD's in the mail. He could
not draw anything better than clothed stick figures, whereas she
was moderately talented, so they had many funny moments over
their portraits of each other. He was a daredevil and she was
not, so she held onto his possessions when he went on the latest
roller coasters. She was a graceful ballroom dancer, and while
he was not terrible, he had no desire to learn. Still, he
accompanied her on the dance floor of her kitchen, and did his
best to avoid stepping on her feet. They had gone shopping
together, just a few times, and presented each other with gifts
at the airport.
She had given him a delicately beautiful music box, made of
filigreed silver and set with tiny seed pearls.
He had given her a silver, chain-linked necklace and a plain
silver ring, heavy with precious silver and promises.
Then they had given each other a lingering kiss.
Himeko looked at her empty room, and felt as though their last
words still hung in the air of her bedroom--the words so clear
and sweet, the words that resounded long after he had departed
and she had gone home.
{ Aishimasu. . .kokoro kara. }
I love you. . .from the bottom of my heart.
***
"It's late, Ranma. Shouldn't we (yawn) stop the game and get to
bed? I mean, it's past three."
"C'mon, we've both stayed up later."
~~~
[ Wednesday, 1:08 AM, Kyoto ]
"Let people sleep," Ranko complained. She had agreed that while
she was in the hotel room, she would remain female, for the sake
of safety and in case the chaperones and teachers came around to
check. The three girls (biologically female, that is) were
intent upon playing their game of MASH and paid no attention to
the tired redhead who couldn't sleep. There was too much noise--
frantic giggling when something private was revealed, soft groans
when the "car" ended up being a shower curtain, and general
merriment.
Raiha looked up from the paper, where she was making marks with
Himeko's mechanical pencil. The girls were hushed with the
actual names and fates, as a boy was to have *no* part at all in
their sacred feminine game. "Do you want some earplugs? By the
way, Himeko, you get the apartment."
"Fine, hand 'em over." Ranko held out a hand, and raina promptly
dug some foam capsules from her bag and gave them to her. "Here.
Oyasumi nasai."
Ranko put the plugs in, yanked a sheet over her head, and closed
her eyes.
Thirty minutes later, the girls looked at the sleeping figure,
what with the soft snoring. Chiyo grinned as she went into the
bathroom. She poked her head out to toss one last question.
"And you said that *she* needed earplugs, Raiha?"
~~~
***
[ May 24, Tokyo, Present ]
"What?!"
Akane's hand nearly dropped the telephone receiver. Kasumi's
voice was sweet and placid, as always. Some things just never
change.
Then again. . .
"No! I don't *care* if Happosai died and there needs to be a new
master of the school! No, there is *no* real need to join the
two schools, I don't *care* what Daddy says! *You* can call up
Ranma yourself and ask him!"
She was shaking. Akane couldn't recall a day when she had spoken
roughly or angrily to her eldest sister. This--this called for
the occasion. "I've said it before and I'll say it again,
Kasumi-san. . .Ranma and I cannot get married right now. No way,
no how. Look, we're in college, it would gbe too early anyway,
we're not ready, I've got a career coming and we're at different
schools. . ." funny how her mind shifted from "want Ranma mode"
into "push it off mode" depending upon the situation. Here she
was, naming every reason to hold off the marriage, while to
Ranma, she had made more than one gesture.
But since a few weeks ago, she had finally let go. It wasn't the
painful, tooth-pulling experience she had imagined. Some people
had weeks of tears on end; Akane remembered very well, her first
year at school, when her friend Kikyo had lost her boyfriend, the
boy who had gone steady with her since eighth grade. She
remembered the nights of telephone calls, the anguish, the hot
tears coming from her friend's clear gray eyes. She remembered
playing mother to the broken girl, stroking her hair and telling
her that things would get better. Then Akane had winced,
remembering her own situation.
Now. . .
Either the love had worn off so much that she no longer *truly*
cared, deep inside her, or she had grown numb to emotional pain.
All it was. . .it was just a quiet letting go, as she felt
something heavy and precious slip from her fingers, something
pull itself out of her insides, warm and moist, leaving behind
coldness, but also comfort.
Comfort that she had finally decided.
Ironically, *Ranma* had decided a year ago, she thought darkly,
as she tried to formulate another thing to say into the
telephone; Kasumi would be growing worried with the silence and
the sharp words. "Onee-chan, I can't right now. You want it,
you call up Ranma."
"Beep" went the off button.
Akane cringed, not so much out of he feelings towards Ranma, but
out of her shame for her behavior towards Kasumi.
Surely, her sister deserved a little better.
But her mind roiled, as Akane knew what would face the two of
them at home, when she and Ranma returned for a visit.
***
Himeko, as a scientist, was an observant person. Her trained
eyes could detect a tiny change in the color of a solution, a dip
in an otherwise smooth graph, contamination specks in a pure cell
culture, as well as those nearly microscopic fluctuations and
tracks in the film taken from accelerators. She could glance at
a complex equation and rattle off every important constant,
vector, and tensor possibly associated with the graphs and
matrices, including a few that supposedly, only computers could
solve *that* fast.
Therefore, she noticed that Saotome-san had all but given up on
his studies. He came to her office once a week, as opposed to
every other day. He did only half the homework and shrugged off
the violent "lectures" that Burashu delivered. Her tidy mind
filed it all away. She had ignored it for two weeks, but this--
this was worrisome. Either he buckled down to work, or she was
effectively kicking him off the class roll.
She was, naturally, *not* well-versed in social observations,
nothing beyond if a person was sad, happy, worried, and at least
partially showing it. She sensed tension in a room, but had no
idea how to resolve these problems. She did not understand the
minute quirks and flickers that spread across faces, those quite
moments that betrayed glimmers of the emotions lying beneath the
mask of flesh.
This explained why she never caught Ranma's half-amorous glances,
followed by his self-disgusted, disappointed, or annoyed looks.
No, she was too busy focusing on the next topic for the class.
Ranma, for his part, was half-glad and half-exasperated that she
was so totally, completely oblivious to his thoughts. There were
times, he was *sure*, that something had come out of his mouth
like "that's a pretty shirt", and all she had said was "thanks",
walking off without realizing what he *might* have meant.
Akane had given up, he had sensed it the night after she had
stayed over. He had been slightly afraid of that--if she came
into his room at night and tried to talk to him and piece
together the fragments. But she hadn't, and from what he had
seen, including a relaxed attitude around him. . .
She had given up.
He had both dreaded and anticipated the day. It was a relief,
but at the same time, it was slightly odious. Ranma had had a
fianc?e for four years, and here she was, unofficially breaking
it off. He wished, just a little, that it could go through
formally, but he knew that there were people back home who would
never stand for it.
Yukawa-san looked well today, he thought as she turned to write
something on the board. She wore a loose, short-sleeved blouse
made of some glossy white material, a white skirt falling to her
smooth knees, and a light, pale-yellow cardigan, open at the
front.
He tried to berate himself for liking her.
{ One, she's your professor. Two, what you know about her and
her personality you picked up during those thirty-minute talks
with her. Her mind was generally on the magnetic fields, not
you. }
What had he picked up of her, that he was so attracted? It made
no sense, but Ranma *knew* that he was absolutely immune to
puppy-love. Genma had been his very effective inoculation
against *that* pathetic disease. It took little to earn his
scorn, but much to earn his respect. So what of liking, or
perhaps, love?
What had she shown him in those few hours?
Inexhaustible willingness and patience to help Ranma, that was
one thing, but he found that other factors suddenly weighed in,
sweeping aside the academic and showing him what he had uncovered
of her.
A gentle nature, serene as water and just as deep. Love and
passion for her chosen path, that of a never-ending quest for
knowledge sweet smile, a soft and lilting voice, a fair face,
dark hair, lovely eyes. Spirit and determination. Her white
hands that moved gracefully to write with chalk or to touch her
silver necklace. Her movements, sure and womanly, at once proud
and gentle.
A brilliance in her eyes, the one that he used to have when he
practiced the Art, that sparkled in her sapphire-blue eyes.
{ Darn it, this is ridiculous. }
Ranma bit his lip, drawing some blood, as he forced his eyes to
the board and pushed his hands to write another set of equations
for flux.
End Three
************
Thank you for your time and reading. :) All comments are welcome, and I hope
you liked it.... n.n
---Irene
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