The door to the Tendo dojo forcibly slid open. A
redhead stepped inside, her dark
expression paling the violence with which she had
made her entry. With an equally loud
crack, the door slid shut. Inside, Ranma Saotome,
heir to the Anything Goes school of
Martial Arts, decided she wanted to hurt
something. Lacking any living targets, she
settled for one of the training dummies that
resided in the Dojo's storage space. After
bringing out the least destroyed target, and
angrily sliding yet another door open and
closed, she relaxed her body, took a deep breath,
and sighed. Her tranquil composure
shattered very quickly, as her body uncoiled in a
vicious thrust towards the hapless and
inanimate dummy. A satisfying thwack resounded.
And then another. And yet another, by
no means the last. Finally, Ranma ended the
barrage with a consummating smack. She
stood there, her rasps forcing themselves into the
oppressive silence, and regarded the
state of both the tattered dummy and her life, two
subjects whose correlation failed to
escape Ranma. In a burst of anger, she threw one
final punch at the target, which went
right through its straw insides, leaving her arm
caught in the stomach of the vengeful
victim. Snarling in obvious distemper, Ranma
arched a kick towards the middle of her
captor, freeing her arm. Stupid dummy. Stupid
parents. Stupid life!
The evening came back to Ranma, unbidden and
unwanted. The events refused to leave
her, even in the dojo, where strict self-control
was supposed to rule over both mind and
body. Neither seemed terribly interested in
cooperation, and Ranma gave a precursory
look at the two facts jutting from her chest that
constantly reminded Ranma that half of
her physical features weren't exactly her own. And
if her body seemed uncooperative,
her mind busied itself waging a full-scale
rebellion. She kept hearing her mother's voice,
going on about the proper clothes for a lady. And
going on about the proper ways to eat.
And the proper way of not taking off one's wet
shirt in front of men. These were all good
points for a proper lady, but Ranma wasn't a
proper lady. Unless Auntie dearest gets her
way, Ranma amended to herself with a satisfying
kick to the uncooperative dummy.
Usually visits from the Saotome matriarch provided
for some surrogate mother-son
bonding, troubled only in that the son was a
daughter at the time. This visit, however,
seemed orchestrated by a pretty damn annoying
reality-TV show testing just how
irritating a reality-TV show could be, and it was
a relief, albeit minor, that Ranma didn't
have to sit through a play-by-play analysis. A
relief that was countered by her oft-
accursed subconscious contenting itself with
broadcasting a 'Best of Nodoka, Live"
consisting entirely of annoying biting sound
bites. "Ranko, dear, shouldn't you be
wearing something under that shirt?" "What about a
dress? That'd look lovely on you."
"You know, a girl of your age needs to sit down
with a women and talk about
certain...parts of womanhood." That seemed to be
what the 'Nodoka, Live' DJ enjoyed
playing best, and he was skilled enough to
perfectly syncopate outraged shouts of
"Ranko!" between the repeating beat of "Parts of
womanhood". Ranma really didn't care
for such talks, but what 'Ranko' needed and Ranma
wanted were two different things in
Nodoka's mind, and they intersected far too few
times for Ranma's tastes.
Of course, there was one clear winner for the
'Worst Mother To Daughter-Per-Se
Exchange of the Night' award, which during dinner
was given an opportunity to bloom
into the catastrophe it longed to be. While
discussing Furikan's student opportunities for
feminine leadership, Ranma accidentally tipped a
steaming-hot bowl of miso soup too
far, loosing a flow of aromatic liquid all over
the front of her favorite red shirt. The
scalding liquid prompted Ranma to quickly run to
the kitchen, drenching her shirt with
cool water. This presented no problem to the rest
of the family, probably half of whom
had expected a replay of earlier in the evening
when Ranma removed her drenched shirt
to Nodoka's horror, and who were certainly used to
Ranma's wet shirts at all times of the
day. To Nodoka, however, plopping down at the
dinner table with a soaking shirt was
right next to tap-dancing on the family shrine,
and Ranma could still hear the precise
shrillness in Nodoka's tone echoing in her ears.
The only thing Ranma took solace in was
that the silk had kept the soup from direct skin
contact, which would have otherwise led
to a very interesting conversation about why
Ranko-dearest just turned into a man.
Thus Nodoka's departure at shortly after dinner,
just as abrupt as her arrival, certainly
relaxed Ranma. The closure of the door behind her
signaled the fall into the less ordered,
more natural life of Ranma, and the shelving of
Ranko for the next unexpected visit. The
way Ranko popped in and out with Nodoka didn't
bother Ranma too much, and sure was
better than the Ranma's special unmanly condition
becoming public knowledge... But
despite the obvious deceit of Ranko, Ranma was
vaguely aware that when 'Ranko' was
talking to her mother, there was a connection that
was almost unique. After such visits in
times past, Ranma would usually sit in the bath
and mentally skirt around the nature of
that connection, reluctant to admit existence,
much less give an identity, to something so
vague and capricious. But tonight, Ranma
desperately questioned what exactly was
special about the words shared between mother and
son. Ranma knew they didn't satisfy,
and they seemed like a sacrilegious insult to
times past, when natural mother and natural
son were always together. If that connection could
have more permanence, instead of
being lies to shield an imposter,
perhaps...perhaps...Ranma's shoulders slumped. She
didn't know what it would mean. Probably Genma
still didn't know. Or maybe he forgot.
Like father, like daughter. Ranma sighed. Had she
ever known what it was like to be with
her mother?
Ranma heard the door slide open once more, and
Akane entered, tea kettle in hand.
"I figure its safe now, Ranma, so here you go."
She walked over to Ranma, and set it
down on the hard wood. "Your mother stayed late,
so I'm probably just going to go and
get ready for bed. I figured you didn't want to
wait for me to get done with my bath."
"Thanks."
"Don't mention it. Who woulda' thought soup would
set her off like that? Maybe its part
of some weird family tradition you don't know
about." Akane looked expectantly at
Ranma, gauging whether her attempts to cheer the
dark-faced Ranma were successful.
Ranma returned an obligatory smile. Akane always
tried during times like this, although
she knew her efforts were never enough. Her world
was never the same after she lost her
mother, for Ranma to lose his again and again, in
such a charade...
"Good night, Ranma." Akane turned to exit the
dojo. Ranma intensely gazed upon her
retreating form. As Akane walked through the
doorway of the dojo, she turned and
noticed Ranma's expression.
"Something on your mind?"
"No, no, not at all. Thanks, but I'm fine, Akane."
"Okay." The door to the dojo neatly slid into
place.
In the silence of the dojo, the perpetually clean
floor marred only by the remnants of a
beat up training aid and an ignored kettle, Ranma
stared outside, at the rain that
consumed Nodoka mere minutes ago...the rain that
beat down over the quiet city, over
Ranma's quiet heart...over everything.
*****
The Rising Tide
S. Ostler - haxchan@yahoo.com
*****
Forget, for a moment, all you know about physics.
Forget about velocity as a vector of
change in position over change in time. Forget
about acceleration. Forgot about all that,
and don't even think about mentioning Super-string
theory.
Just imagine, will you, that a bunch of martial
artists from Nerima were lost in a
presumed finite forest. Imagine they were angry
with their leader, a Soun Tendo, who
accidentally went the wrong way a few hours back
and didn't bother to let that
accidentally slip until this point. Picture that,
if you can.
Now pay attention to one small principle of
physics, which is that any body moving at
any speed, even an infinitesimal one, will
eventually reach a point along a finite path.
This was the rule that Soun believed in, and used
to justify his continued leadership,
despite the fact that he really had no clue what
he was doing and everyone knew it. Soun
had once heard that a room of monkeys would type
the entire works of Shakespeare, and
this sounded like a good idea to him.
The rest of the family didn't share his optimism,
and in fact had some rather different
opinions, which they were mostly keeping to
themselves. Even Kasumi was noticeably
frowning. The family was trying to find a sea-side
cabin that had been lent to them by an
old school friend of Soun, someone who had found
their way into a good deal of money,
and decided to repay a favor for his old friend in
a very removed, safe fashion. And so,
after getting off the train at the local village,
the family had set off with high hopes, that,
at this point, seemed pretty dang unwarranted
given the quality of current leadership.
Meanwhile, Nabiki was hot, Nabiki was tired,
Nabiki was angry. All children have an
instinctive belief that their daddy is the
smartest man ever, and for Nabiki, that had ended
long, long, long ago. In her opinion, Daddy fell
between good-natured incompetency and
sheer idiocy; today was carving out new territory
in the latter direction.
"Daddy, don't you think we should go back to the
fork?" This was not the first time
Nabiki had asked this.
"No, Daddy knows there must be a short-cut around
here...somewhere."
"Um...we could just go back to where we know it is
technically possible to reach our
goal, Daddy."
Soun looked around. He saw the same dirt path with
trees, a path that looked very
familiar, seeing as they hard already trodden it.
Many times. Even Kasumi joined in the
fray. "Daddy, the food might spoil unless we get
it to a refrigerator."
Soun was adamant. "Now now, girls. Don't you have
a little faith in your Daddy?" The
birds chirped. Soun nervously chuckled.
Through the stupid ordeal, Ranma had said very
little. Now, though, exasperation and a
bit too much time in the sun inspired action. "I'm
going to the cottage, pop. See you
there." He abruptly walked off into the brush,
followed by a reluctant Akane.
"Ranma! Where are you going?" Akane knew she just
asked a stupid question. Ranma
just said where he planned to go. Nonetheless,
something had to be said, and that seemed
better than nothing. Apologetically, "I'm sorry,
but I probably should follow Ranma."
Shifting her suitcase to her other hand with a
determined look, she shouted. "I'm coming
with you, Ranma!"
As Ranma crashed off the trail, Soun shrugged his
shoulders with a look of defeat. "It
should have been right ahead. I just don't
understand it. Take heart girls! Ranma'll bring
us there!" He faced Genma. "Let's get after your
son then, eh?" They made their way
through Ranma's new trail.
***
Ranma stood at the top of a tree. Below, a
concerned Akane looked up expectantly. The
view was very nice, Ranma had to admit. He could
see the town they had left, where the
forest they were in met the ocean, and a small
marina bustling with the evening crew of
local fisherman. What really excited him was a
small little roof less than a kilometer
away, right on the water. Like many good things in
life, it was dark, solitary, and inviting.
"I think I see it, Akane!"
"Are you sure it's the right one?"
The ever-present silence. Ranma was very irritated
that Akane had to go and think about
these things. "I guess we'll find out."
Akane looked down at her feet. She'd said the
wrong thing again. No wonder Ranma
kept getting ticked...despite the fact it wasn't
really a bad thing to say, not in her opinion.
"Alright, let's go then Akane." Ranma jumped down,
picking up his discarded backpack.
Well, what other cottages were around here? It had
to be the right one.
Akane could see by Ranma's facial expression what
Ranma was thinking, and after a few
minutes of walking, replied. "Well, I just didn't
want to end up at the wrong cabin."
Akane felt both stupid for making the comment, and
stupid for having to defend it. In the
distance, she could faintly hear the rest of the
group chatting merrily.
"Akane, don't worry about it." He sharply turned
his head to face his insolent fianc�e,
while maintaining his brisk, eternally impatient
pace. "We'll be just fi-"
And as he walked off a cliff, he stopped talking
and started screaming. He landed in a
rocky stream with a splash and a newly pained
expression. Akane peered over the edge
before gingerly climbed down the bank, dropping
her suitcase to the ground below. It
landed next to a facedown Ranma, who was clearly
in pain.
For once, she was glad she landed in water. Her
head was turned so that she could
breathe out of her nose, and even as the water
rushed by her closed eye, the coldness
helped to numb the pain. Of course, the rocks
jutting out weren't pleasurable. One in
particular was smashing against her chest, causing
no small amount of discomfort.
Cursing temporary womanhood in general, she stood
up, or did her best attempt at it, only
to crash back down. Her backpack was still on top
of her, compounding the small gray
matter in her left breast. She could fondly
remember a time, a minute ago, when her chest
wouldn't have been a problem.
After a moment of pained reflection, she realized
what happened. When she felt herself
falling, she tried to put her arms and legs down
to take the shock. She even planned to do
a roll, proving she was of hardy martial arts
stock. Sadly, however, it didn't matter,
because the backpack caused a minor problem, and
put her on her stomach and in pain.
Musing on life, she decided the cottage better be
pretty darn nice.
Akane looked up at the abandoned structure that
had been their target, obviously well
maintained, standing mere meters away. "Well,
Ranma, looks like you were right. Here it
is. Looks nice and roomy." Akane didn't hear
Ranma's usual sharp reply, and turned
around to find an unmoved Ranma getting wetter.
"Ranma! Get out of there!" A softer voice found
its way out. "Are you okay?"
"Of course! Geez, Akane, I'm fine!" How Ranma
managed to talk while face down in a
river impressed Akane, but Ranma's situation
showed no signs of improving after
another escape attempt left Ranma in an even more
intimate position with the rock.
"ARGHH!!!" In what Ranma hoped sounded like a
battle cry, she attempted to rise again,
and only managed to submerge her mouth. She
frantically jerked her mouth above water,
and, shifting her position back, became
reacquainted with the all too familiar rock.
"Akane? About that help?" Ranma tried in her
meekest voice.
"No problem, Ranma." She lifted the wet backpack,
freeing Ranma's arms. As Ranma
struggled to get up, Akane chided him. "You don't
have to be a macho-woman, Ranma.
Let me." With that, Ranma was lifted into Akane's
arms. Ranma yelped out, realizing
exactly how undignified her position was.
"Don't worry, I'll get you in the cabin, just
relax." Akane started walking the 50 or so
meters to the cottage. Halfway through she stopped
to gaze at the ocean, taking in the
gray clouds that presided over the limitless
expanse. Ranma also gazed skyward, taking
particular interest in where the clouds obscured
the faint presence of the sun. A small
golden highlight in the sky was all that marked
the presence of the Sun's golden rays. It
was almost as if the sun was gone, almost as if
the gray clouds that bore down upon the
land and ocean were all there was to see. But
somehow, to the lone pair, it seemed
enough, or, at the very least, that it should be
enough.
"Look, Akane. Look how the tide rises so quickly.
Seems like the entire beach'll be
covered- the rocks will all be hidden. Wouldn't
that be a sight?" An honest smile formed
on her face.
"We'll see this all tomorrow Ranma. I have a
feeling this'll be a good vacation." She
looked down at the redhead in her arms, and
smiled. Ranma looked back, and slowly
reflected Akane's curled lips, her mind dropping
the matter of the impetuous rock.
Akane, nice girl that she was, brought the matter
up again, as Akane's eyes lowered their
glance.
"Ranma! Your shirt!" They saw the rock's effect on
Ranma's traditional red Chinese
shirt. There was a gaping hole in a rather
indecent place. As Akane blushingly poked her
finger in the hole, she felt something warm on her
fingers. It was red, to match the scarlet
that Ranma and Akane shared on their face.
"You're bleeding." Akane said this in a flat tone,
almost offhandedly. Sheepishly, Ranma
looked up at Akane, and then started to squirm.
"I'm fine, Akane! It's just a cut!"
"Ranma, be quiet!" Akane wasn't going to let this
pass as 'just a cut'. It occurred to
Akane that if the gouge was big enough, Ranma'd
have to bind her breasts with a
bandage. Fighting to keep from breaking out
laughing, she didn't even notice h.
"What?" Ranma tried to get out of Akane's arms, so
Akane started moving towards her
goal again, hoping to give the impression that she
was doing something important.
Reaching the cottage, she set Ranma down on a
porch bench, and carefully took off
Ranma's shirt, to avoid further stains on the
mutilated shirt. She was glad she wasn't in
the middle of Tokyo right now, or any other large
metropolitan areas, for that matter.
"Wait here, okay? I'll go get our bags." Akane ran
back, and slinging the backpack on
her back and taking her suitcase, quickly set back
towards the damaged Ranma. She
thought she could hear the family crashing through
the brush. She hoped they'd watch for
abrupt elevation differentials.
Setting down the stuff on the porch, she saw a
placid Ranma looking down at a growing
red stain, spreading over her upper body.
Ranma raised a hand to prod the hurting breast.
"This is really kind of sick."
Akane looked at Ranma, noticing the odd expression
on the redhead's face. That face was
a new one for Akane.
"Ranma? Are you okay?" Akane's eyes were fixed on
the pool that now slowly slid itself
down to her stomach, and dripped down her torso,
falling down on the porch.
"I think I'm a lot better, thanks to you."
Akane stared. "Okay...I'll just clean you up.
Where's your First Aid kit?"
Ranma raised one of her eyebrows exactly one and
one third centimeters, giving Akane
'the look'. It was a 'look' that even Nabiki would
marvel at. In one look, Ranma told
Akane that she was crazy to ask, crazy to expect
an answer, insane for even thinking
about it, and for good measure, just generally off
her rocker.
Akane rescinded her folly, "Right. You're Macho-
Ultra-Tough-I Can't Bleed Saotome-
san."
"Strength is for those without options, I
suppose." Ranma, looking at her chest, smiled.
Akane frowned. As far as Akane could tell, it
wasn't doing anything that inspired hilarity
at the moment.
The cottage was certainly nice, very chic,
spacious, and filled with appropriate earth
tones- but not sterile. This wasn't a hospital,
Akane reflected. Rushing in, she opened one
of the doors in the cottage, and found herself
looking in the bathroom. She started
looking for bandages, and after searching the
cabinets, had no luck. She started to get a
towel, hoping that blood doesn't stain that much,
when inspiration struck. Rolling up her
sleeves, she walked through the house, and picked
up Ranma. She noticed with chagrin
that apparently Ranma wasn't done bleeding yet.
Akane tilted Ranma so that the blood pool ran off
onto the porch. Some one was going to
have to do something about that, Akane decided.
After balancing Ranma to avoid any
blood spills while Akane carried her through the
house, she brought Ranma to the
bathtub, where Akane unceremoniously dumped her
ward.
"Alright Ranma, there you go. You can wash now."
Akane started to draw the curtains
closed, when a hand stopped her by wrapping around
her wrist. Akane looked down as
Ranma looked up, their eyes met once again.
"Akane, I feel strange."
"Ranma. You just fell like 15 feet."
"No, it's not that." Her hand dropped leaving
Akane's free. But Akane's hand remained.
"Maybe I'm just tired. Maybe I need some rest."
Ranma's words caused Akane to frown.
"Can you help me Akane? I just want to relax. I
don't want this blood." Ranma leaned
back against the bathtub's walls, with that same
blasted smile.
"Ranma! There's nothing funny about this." Akane
leaned away from Ranma. "Why?"
"I dunno'. Everything's right, except a little
thing. It's funny, ya' know. You won't help
me, but you did before. Why? I dunno." Ranma
slowly looked up. "Help me. I think it's
important." She looked around. "It's a shame that
there isn't a furo like we have at
home."
Akane stood in the doorway of the small bathroom.
She took it all in, simple wooden
walls, a mirror on a wall, over a counter with
sink. And next to the counter, there was a
bathtub, with Ranma; she was red in both hair and
blood. Akane didn't want this
responsibility, but Ranma's trusting face...
"What can I do?"
"Help wash me." Ranma's request met with success.
Akane found herself mechanically
walking over to Ranma, and slowly, carefully,
taking off her pants. She started the water
in the bathtub, and washed the already thickening
crimson off of Ranma. She washed the
cut well, using warm water to cleanse the effects
of the rock. It wasn't real bad, Akane
reflected. Ranma's breast was bruised around the
cut, a bit swollen, but the actual injury
was small and mostly clean, considering a jagged
rock made it. Akane managed a small
smile, but she knew it was different than the ones
she had recently seen on Ranma's face.
"I think I'm done." Akane'd used soap; that caused
Ranma to wince, but no other reply
escaped. Still, the blood had stopped, and the cut
already looked better. "You can get out
now." Akane stood Ranma up, and toweled her off.
She led Ranma to a mirror, to let her
see the damage.
"It looks good. Thank you, Akane. I wonder how
many days it would have bled..."
"How many days?"
"Yeah, when I was on the road. You know, with Pop.
It was always a game, whenever I
had something like this, to see how long it would
go before healing. Kinda' silly, I guess,
but Pop would always go easy on the training when
I was hurt. You know, even though
he caused em', he always cared about my injuries."
Akane didn't want to think about that, she didn't
want to think about anything. Only
action could stop this progression, and so she
forced herself to wrap a towel around
Ranma's middle. "There. Now you're presentable. To
whom, I'm not sure." With that,
Akane hung up the extra towels and Ranma's
clothes, still wet from the river.
Akane made the mistake of looking at Ranma. She
froze, and then abruptly, exploded
with force. "Our family will be here soon. Dress."
Akane turned to face the door.
Opening it, she stormed out of the bathroom,
paused and turned back to Ranma. "I'm
glad you're okay."
"You're not the only one." A pause. "Did you
really not want to do that?"
Akane opened her mouth, as if to say something,
then stopped, her mouth slightly ajar.
She thought, deciding between the two answers. "I
don't know." Akane saw Ranma take
a step to bridge the gap between them.
"Akane...No one wants to do anything they hafta'.
I never did, but it didn't matter. You
get used to it. Well, you think you do, but it's
the same thing. There's only one thing I've
really wanted ta' do, for real." Ranma's overly
slow, overly precise slur stood as a stark
contrast to the usual impulsive barks.
"Did you get to do it?"
Ranma said nothing.
"Why won't you answer me?" Akane's voice was
tinged with rising emotion.
Ranma continued to stare at Akane.
"Just stop, okay! This is all some big perverted
joke! Listen. Just forget about the whole
thing. I never helped you, and I don't care about
your chest. At all!!" Akane turned and
marched indignantly out of the bathroom, into the
middle of the cabin. She hesitated, and
broke her composure, hanging her head slightly.
Akane immediately tensed again, as she
felt arms close around her waist. She felt a
familiar, feminine body push into her back.
"That's okay, Akane. Who needs these things
anyway?" Ranma leaned against Akane,
who tensed, frozen in place. Ranma's hand roved
over Akane's blouse, rhythmically
stroking the small indentation of Akane's navel.
Aside from her hand, Ranma didn't move, and after
a while, Akane relaxed, causing
Ranma to lean even more against her.
"It's not so bad, is it? To be like this, I mean?
Don't worry." Ranma smiled, contentedly,
as she continued to stroke Akane's stomach with
her hands, her arms clinging to Akane's
middle.
It was this scene that the rest of the party was
treated to moments later, as Soun pushed
the door slightly ajar, unnoticed.
It had been a long way to the cabin, even with
Ranma's trailblazing help. Soun
unsurprisingly didn't want Nabiki or Kasumi to
have to jump down the bank, so he made
sure they went the safe way, which was, of course,
the long way. The *really* long way.
But it was a way that got them where they were at
that point. Soun wished the walk had
been much longer.
The reason Soun feared such an inexplicable scene
was that it could mean any number of
things. The position he found himself in afforded
him a full view of a topless Ranma
pressing against Akane. They seemed accepting of
the embrace, and Ranma even
seemed...mildly content? Happy? Soun shook his
head. And if Ranma's position was
dubious, Akane even more so. She had a thoughtful
look on her face, that almost equated
to Buddha-like serenity as she stood there, mildly
swaying. Ranma also rocked in time
with Akane. Or was Ranma leading? Any number of
things...
Genma, not as overly concerned by possible
consequences of this embrace closed the
door slowly, giving the two lone bodies privacy.
He eased it closed with skill, and
reflected on the well-oiled hinge that kept hidden
the presence of the voyeurs.
Finally, he forced it into its resting place, as
it finally closed, with a satisfying click, that
didn't go unnoticed by the young two martial
artists.
Even as Akane craned her head to see what caused
the suspicious noise, Ranma just held
Akane, unmoved and unmoving.
"Ranma!" Akane whispered. "I think they're here."
Akane could feel the gentle pressure Ranma's
nodding made against her shoulder. The
dark-haired girl twisted the other way to look at
Ranma; she noticed a lack of movement
from the body beside her. Ranma stood motionless,
eyes shut and mouth closed.
Is this all she wanted? To go to sleep? Akane sat
down and laid Ranma on a couch after
changing the embrace that bound the two. Ranma
silently lay there, as Akane gently
played with the red pigtail that innocently
protruded from behind the larger mass of red,
and Ranma made no attempts to stop her.
In Akane's hands, the pigtail twirled. She brushed
it softly against her hand, and leaned
her face in and rubbed it against her cheek
absentmindedly, reveling in its soft, subtle
appeal. The perkily bright red pigtail, a stark
contrast to its reclined owner, was dropped
from Akane's mind, but not her hands while she
contemplated her situation.
The first thing she needed to do involved Ranma's
lack of a top, and she quickly scoped
out one of five futons that lay on the floor.
Five? Apparently Aizawa didn't know of the
Saotomes. She set Ranma down on one, making sure
the bleeding had stopped. It had, so
Akane drew up the blankets to Ranma's neck. She
lightly toweled Ranma's cheek; was
that a brief smile she saw on Ranma's face?
Akane silently walked over to the door, and
abruptly flung it open. On the other side,
Kasumi smiled. Confused, Akane looked 90 degrees
to the right, where Nabiki, Soun,
and Genma were peering inside through a window.
Only Nabiki seemed to notice her
angry sister.
"Oh, hi sis. So, looks like you and Ranma made it
okay, right?" Nabiki smiled in what
she hoped was a reconciliatory grin. "We were
just...making sure not to disturb you."
Nabiki was doing her best to hide a camcorder that
was innocently pressed against her
back. "We wouldn't want to disturb anything.
Right daddy?" This statement was aimed
at the two aging peepers, still wondering where
Akane had went after disappearing from
their line of sight. As soon as Nabiki kicked
them, they knew.
"Why hello there, uh, Akane. Very good to see you
in good spirits." This was Soun's
attempt to start things off in a good way.
"Um, yes, Akane. Just checking in on my, uh, boy,
you know."
"I bet." Akane's eyes were practically slits. The
intrusion and blatant lies quickly
channeled the embarrassment into anger.
"Well, the boy appears to be resting." Genma was
trying to see Ranma, which was hard
due to a couch being in the way. He could see some
red locks that were peaking over the
top, which told him more than enough about how his
'boy' was doing. "And I'm
assuming the blood is from him." He glanced down
at the murky pool indifferently.
"Uh, yeah. He had a nasty fall on our way here."
She pointed to the bank where Ranma
had fallen. Nabiki winced.
"That must have hurt." Nabiki solemnly intoned, as
she stepped inside the cottage, to be
joined by the remainder of the group. She glanced
over at Ranma, an inquisitive
expression registering on her face.
"A martial artist's life is fraught with peril".
Genma solemnly intoned.
If Ranma had been awake, he would have said
something pithy about stupid fathers with
fluff for brains being fraught with idiocy. Nabiki
was almost expecting Ranma to say this
anyway, being comatose notwithstanding. Without
Ranma, Nabiki felt strange, she felt
different, she felt incomplete. She felt bored.
She had more feelings for Ranma than
people thought she did, just not by a whole lot.
"Oh my! What about dinner?"
"Don't worry, Kasumi. Aizawa-san was good enough
to stock the kitchen with modern
appliances, so you can just unpack the food and
start cooking. He really is an upstanding
morally strong citizen." As Soun's eyes took the
cottage in, his eyes bulged over a small
stack of magazines with very colorful and
interesting covers. Quickly, he hid them under
a couch cushion.
"Look at all this stuff! We're going to have a
great meal." Cooking was a passion that
gave complete rapture.
Back in the more or less real world, people were
settling in. Bags were unpacked, futons
were claimed. The group was short one futon, and
it occurred to Genma, who was
studying this with great care, that if Ranma had
bedding, and the girls had to have
bedding (as Soun would have no less), and Genma
had already plopped his way into
possession of one, the odd one out was Soun. This
presented Genma with no ethical
problems; he had gone without proper bedding more
than enough times, in his book.
Time for Soun to share in the joy.
Outfits soon filled dressers, toothbrushes invaded
the bathroom, and soon food filled
dinner plates. At the small table yet smooth and
finely grained cedar table, the entire
family gathered for a slightly late meal, and
Kasumi's latest creation became the hot
topic. For all but Akane, who still tried without
success to simultaneously understand
Ranma and sizzle with anger at her peeping family.
She started at the sleeper, who dozed
contentedly in what got chosen to be Akane's bed.
This occurred to Akane as she realized
all the other futons were claimed.
"Umm...Daddy, where am I going to sleep?"
"Oh, why Akane! Wherever you want!" Akane looked
up with a surprised look.
"Assuming, that is, you want to sleep there." Soun
looked pointedly at Ranma.
"So in other words, it's not really 'wherever I
want'?" The anger at her family's
impositions reawakened with a vengeance.
"Well, Akane, Aizawa must have thought it was me,
you girls...and mother." Soun
swallowed, with some effort. "But now, looks like
someone's going to have to share."
Akane lowered her gaze.
Nabiki decided to break the silence. "And this
way, if Ranma decides to impale herself
on a rock in the middle of the night, you can join
in the fun!" Nabiki smiled at herself. It
wasn't what she said that made her clever, she
reflected, but how and when she said it.
"Thanks for the idea, Nabiki." Akane wasn't in a
good mood, and that last comment put
her even further from crawling into the same bed
as Ranma.
"Just looking on the bright side of things, sis.
Well, I'm going to bed. Early to bed, early
to tan, I always say." With that, she went into
the bathroom. Tomorrow was going to be
fun, she was sure of that.
Kasumi, already washing dishes, looked up. "We
should all be going to bed soon,
actually. Soon as this is done, I think I'll be
joining Nabiki."
"A good idea, Kasumi." Soun rose. "Should we
finish this last game of Shogi?" What
Genma responded with wasn't a yes. It wasn't a no
either. It was nothing, which was
incidentally what Genma was doing, already snugly
sleeping in his futon. Genma
certainly could be fast, Soun reflected with a
note of surprise. Take your eyes off him for
one moment, and he'll go to sleep on you.
Soun looked at his sleeping friend, and then at
the game board. Genma probably flipped
things around, while Soun was eating. Time to
restore things to their natural state, which
he did while chuckling evilly. Unlike his friend,
Soun fought the good fight.
And Ranma just lay there, gently rising and
falling in rhythm to her deep breathing.
Ranma might as well sleep here, Akane decided, now
ready for bed, most anger
forgotten. She looked down at the cute little cat
PJ's that were just about to be put on, and
it occurred to Akane that all Ranma had on was a
partially damp towel. Well, Ranma's
just going to wake up with some pajamas on, Akane
decided with resolve. Good thing
she's sleeping, Akane thought, as she might not
like the pink hearts that adorned the
particular pair that Akane was about to impart. Oh
well. The hearts matched her red hair
well, and, as Akane firmly gripped the overly cute
sleepwear, a girl was *nothing* if she
wasn't color-coordinated.
She knelt by Ranma's sleeping form, and held
Ranma's arms up. Akane slipped the
pajama tops on, noting that they were too tight,
especially in two rather prominent places.
Such is the life for last minute packers, Akane
mused.
It always struck Akane as unfair that Ranma didn't
want the figure that any girl would die
for. Martial arts training burned a bit too much
fat in certain places, at least for Akane.
She had never really minded before Ranma came
along, and the idea of developing a
chest for an unwanted fianc�e? Ridiculous.
Nonetheless, Akane was partially jealous of
Ranma's tone, curves, and size. Plus, Ranma could
cook. But at the moment, Akane had
trouble staying angry with the unfortunate
redhead, and she broke into a smile as Ranma
mumbled something about some phantom sukiyaki
being just the perfect temperature.
Ranma's gluttony was already quite well known to
the entire Tendo household, but it
struck Akane as endearing and... possibly even
cute right then.
Now, the matter of the PJ bottoms. She had her
work cut out for her, Akane knew, as she
untied the towel and let it loosely cover certain
body parts without restricting her plans,
and rolled up her sleeves. The first step, Akane
reflected, was to start from the feet.
Fortunately, her sisters were busy in the
bathroom, and Daddy and Saotome-san were
sleeping. And certainly Ranma wasn't going to
complain, at least not tonight. Akane
quickly worked them up to her knees. Akane could
see the outlines of scars on Ranma's
legs, from the fall, and from her many training
adventures. She ran her hand over the
smooth skin, feeling where deep red scratches
marred a light cream. She really hoped
Ranma didn't wake up. Lightly lifting Ranma's legs
off the ground, Akane continued to
edge the PJs up, bit by bit.
Akane giggled. Getting kicks from pulling Ranma's
pants up? Akane scoffed at the
thought. Nonetheless, she was glad to be able to
do this, perhaps due to maternal
instincts, or perhaps the incredibly silly
position Ranma was in; she was naked (although
some sensitive parts *were* covered by a towel and
pajama tops), and her legs were both
spread and not touching the ground. Finally, she
snugged the pastel pants to Ranma's
hips, and removed the towel, guiding the bottoms
to their home around the waist. They
were a little snug, but they'd have to do.
She'll thank me in the morning. Akane chuckled at
the idea, as she got up to change into
her own pajamas.
*****
Akane was thinking as she returned, clad in her
cat-adorned sleepwear. She was moments
away from going to bed with Ranma. Of course,
Ranma was a girl, and wearing those
pink PJs, looked awfully like the antithesis of
masculinity. Akane could even undo
Ranma's braid... If she did that, they'd probably
look similar. Except for hair color, of
course. Akane did that, and as Ranma's short
cascade of hair fell down, Akane internally
felt a little bit better about her bedmate.
Lightly, Akane rubbed Ranma's cheek. Martial arts
*do* make for strange bedfellows, as
her father once said. Akane slipped in the futon,
glad that the blanket was big enough for
the two girls. How was Ranma, anyway? Did her
wound heal all right? Akane stretched
the fabric of the shirt down just a bit. It was
low cut, and only required a little tug to show
Ranma's still raw and pulverized skin. Objectively
looking at Ranma, she saw see that
the wound, not only a long way from being healed,
seemed to be in its worst state right
now. A tint of red graced her cheek, matching
Ranma's hair and chest. Akane
concentrated on the wound.
Akane stroked the small scars that had been
ingrained into Ranma's skin after long hours
of training, but they were pale and mundane next
to the big one, and Akane tentatively
reached out to dab her finger at the rock's
handiwork. It felt sticky...Ranma didn't need
this to happen. No one did, really, but somehow
because it was Ranma, and she was a
girl, it was worse. Akane wondered how the skin
would contract when hot water was
applied...It would probably hurt, leaving Akane
wondering as to how Ranma would
enjoy staying as a girl for a few days. Nothing
new for him, to be sure, but it always
made things a little interesting. With these
considerations superceding the world around
her, she absentmindedly rubbed around the wound,
avoiding direct contact. In the
background, she could hear her sisters settling
into their sheets.
Nabiki also heard something; the rustling of
sheets in Akane's direction was faintly
audible. "Don't have too much fun now, Akane"
Nabiki whispered into the darkened
room. "You're not married yet, remember?" Nabiki
snorted with self-absorbed glee and
felt no shame whatsoever. She loved herself.
Akane did nothing, rising above the obvious bait.
She settled down into the downy fabric
of the quilt they both lay under and lightly
pulled Ranma's body against her own, leaning
her head next to Ranma's ear. She felt their
clothing rustle, and imaged how silly the
clashing hearts and cats looked juxtaposed as
Akane was sure they were.
Ranma's methodical, deep breathing filled Akane's
ear, its warmth passionately caressing
her cheek as it floated by. It reminded Akane of
when Ranma was in her cat state, Akane
decided detachedly.
Impulsively, she ran her hand through Ranma's
hair, and gently scratched just behind
Ranma's ear. Ranma's breathing stayed even, but
Akane thought she could hear a quiet
sigh. Satisfied, she kissed Ranma on the cheek,
and leaned backwards until she lay flat
against the bed, contentedly watching Ranma
naturally fall against her body. Akane tried
to remember exactly why she kissed her, but soon
sleep set in, and impossible questions
melted into thoughts of two girls playing on a
beach, one dark haired, one red.
*****
Every morning is a combination of regrets and
hopes, sorrows and joys, departures and
returns. As the reborn sun gently entered the
cabin, it glided over the wooden floors, the
polished tables and cabinets. Rays streamed in
through the many windows, accenting the
haphazardly laid out futons, squeezed between the
three couches, couple of chairs, and
the untraditional coffee table that presided in
the middle of it all. As beams moved along,
they passed right over an increasingly disturbed
Ranma.
Akane had chosen the futon between a couch and a
window, ensuring a dark and
secluded spot that still wasn't overly cramped.
Nonetheless, Akane was very close,
Ranma couldn't help but notice. Ranma's body lay
against her fianc�e's, as well as
Akane's arms, wrapped around Ranma's waist.
Ranma's head was gently nestled
between Akane's upper chest and head. Ranma could
feel Akane's chest slowly and
methodically rise and fall, soothing Ranma's
rapidly growing shock. But not soothing
enough.
She thought back on the hazy events of yesterday.
Not only had she got hurt and been a
pansy about it, she had no less than crawled into
Akane's arms. And she still was there.
She had avoided opening her eyes because she knew
what they would see, but forced
herself to anyway. She saw skin.
It wasn't bad skin; Ranma would be the first to
admit that. It was smooth, firm, yet soft,
and very close. Ranma realized her head was
resting between Akane's left shoulder and
chest, thus affording an excellent view of what
lay above the V-neck of Akane's pajamas.
Next to that wide sea of pink, Ranma could also
see the overwhelmingly cute creatures
on Akane's overwhelmingly cute sleeping
shirt...they appeared to be cats with creative
liberties taken, especially on the tail.
It a burst of emotion, Ranma freed her arms, and
pushed herself up on her hands. And as
he did, she came face to face with Akane, snoozing
serenely, unaware of the angst taking
place no more than a handful of centimeters away
from her. Ranma felt the anger and
energy fade away, and she studied the curve of
Akane's nose, the pout of the lips, and the
gradual, full outline of face that unknowing,
slept. Ranma knew that she was gently
falling back into Akane, whose arms even now
intoxicatingly pressed Ranma back into
that blissfully warm quilt and body.
Intoxication ain't all bad, Ranma thought, as
consciousness flitted away once more,
capricious and unwelcome.
*****
Once again, in a secluded but crowded cabin, a
redhead's eyes were slowly opening.
They took in the sun, the now familiar Akane, and
went wide. This time, not even the
light and tempting arms of her fianc�e could
prevent a crescendoing series of bells going
off full alert in Ranma's head. She and
Akane...What had been said? She quickly got on
her knees, and abruptly got up, forgetting about
the mass of person at her feet. Ranma
looked around, everyone was still asleep,
thankfully, including Nabiki. Ranma needed to
change; in what way she wasn't exactly sure.
Fortunately, however, she had a good idea
about where to start. Getting out of the infernal
hearts would be a good first step for any
morning. And with that, she tripped right over
Akane, kicking her in the ribs.
"Ow!" Akane bolted up, and all traces of sleep now
removed, she glowered at Ranma,
who glared back.
"Ranma, you just kicked me!" Akane, for what she
lacked in tact, made up for with a
loud voice and a healthy dose of self-
righteousness.
Ranma didn't like where this could go, and needed
a plan. One quickly came to her.
"Common', Akane, why the hell you gotta' put us in
the same bed? Of course I'm going
to trip."
"I thought you'd prefer it to the floor. Next time
I'll know better."
"Yeah, well a big thanks to you." He looked down
at Akane, and a pink heart caught his
eye. "And why the pink hearts? You mighta' just
tattooed girl on my forehead."
"I'm glad you're thankful for me lending you
something to sleep in. Trust me, next time
you'll be getting a paper bag."
At this point the rest of the family couldn't help
but wake up to some very angrily
expressed accusations and sarcastic responses.
"Next time! I didn't ask you to help me! I coulda'
dressed myself, you know!"
"But you didn't! You practically crawled into my
arms! You certainly weren't doing
anything for yourself."
Soun decided to join in the fun. "Ranma! How dare
you treat my girl like that?"
"Yeah, boy! You should be thankful for what she
did, whatever exactly it was!" Genma
couldn't help but add. Ranma groaned. Once again,
she knew exactly where this was
going to go, yet was powerless to help it. Even
Kasumi joined it. "You know, Ranma,
maybe you should be a little more gracious."
She looked at the hostile faces, and down at
Akane, whose anger had already subsided,
replaced instead with the forlorn look of one sick
from too often delayed hopes. She
started to say something, and then stopped. She
looked up at the rest of the room's
inhabitants. Even then their eyes bored into
Ranma, and she shouted at their glaring
faces. "So what?! I fell, big deal. I don't owe
nobody nothin". She angrily picked up her
unpacked backpack, taking out a small bundle near
the top. "And the first thing I'm
gonna' do is get out of this oversized valentine
gone bad!" She stomped into the
bathroom, slamming the door shut. And even through
the door she could hear Nabiki
begin a reply.
"But you looked so *cute* in them!" Nabiki was
rewarded by a very loud and violent
thump. Nabiki wasn't exactly sure what Ranma had
just destroyed, but it didn't matter.
"Nabiki, maybe you shouldn't tease Ranma so much",
Kasumi sagely imparted. Nabiki
just smirked.
Akane angrily looked on as the family got up.
Nabiki was munching on an apple,
lovingly left by one of Aizawa's assistants, while
Kasumi, still in her nightgown, started
the morning's feast. As a contrast to Kasumi's
productivity, Father and Saotome-san
focused intensely on yet another game of Shogi.
Akane watched as Father swiped another
piece. If they spent as much effort playing as
they did cheating...it occurred to Akane to
wonder where the board came from. Was it the same
board they used at home? For all of
the times Akane saw the board father used at home,
she couldn't conjure up any details
about it.
Would Ranma know? He probably would, and he'd tell
her any good martial artist would
observe their natural environment. But she
wouldn't have said that last night, she
wouldn't have said anything of the sort. Last
night, it was as if Ranma
suddenly...suddenly...
She had no idea, and Ranma never seemed prone to
volunteer information, especially
about himself. With a furrowed brow, Akane sat,
all thoughts of the Shogi board lost.
***
In the only other room of the getaway, Ranma also
had several questions, and like Akane,
they focused on the same guy turned girl. Ranma
looked down at the cooling water that
she had filled the bathtub with, while playing
with her loose hair. Stepping into hot water
had become one of her favorite pastimes, but now a
steaming pool had little appeal for
Ranma and her chest, and as such, the bath
consisted of statically oriented lukewarm
water. Angrily, she marched herself into the tub,
feeling a now familiar rage, the aimless
protest against everything, against a shapeless
army of sorrows.
As she stepped into the water, she could almost
feel her curves being stripped away as
they had been so many times before, even knowing
that improperly heated water simply
couldn't. One idea, one word resounded through her
harried mind.
Idiot.
She was such an idiot. Ranma knew there was no
escape from that.
She knew that staying angry, something she
ordinarily took solace in, simply was
impossible now. Akane...Every day between them
that didn't get better got worse. But
that's nothing new, not to her, anyway. But today
had to get better, it simply had to. How
could the world ever be right again, how could the
wishes of years and years ever come
true, unless through today? In the still eternity
of the water, Ranma's fiercely trembling
fist made the tiniest ripples, that crashing
against the sides of the bathtub, were forever
silenced.
Time slipped away unmissed for both troubled
martial artists. Ranma finished her bath,
while Akane watched the morning meal come into
existence, observing every move
Kasumi made, more for habit's sake than actual
gain. She had once thought that by
watching a master cook at work, the skills would
transfer by osmosis; the impossible
tricks would become second nature, almost as if
cooking ability was in the very air that
Kasumi exhaled.
Of course, that wasn't true, and Akane soon found
herself even more exasperated by how
Kasumi always knew exactly when a soup was done
cooking, or instinctively picked out
a perfect pinch. What's the difference between a
dollop and a smidgeon, and how did that
occult knowledge come to Kasumi? It seemed to
Akane that the superiority of Kasumi's
cooking came from a ludicrously sustained streak
of luck that had lasted since about age
fourteen, and showed no signs of petering out. A
lucky streak that Akane showed not
even the slightest trace of. Kasumi certainly
tried her best to inform her enthusiastic
disciple, but as Akane came to see it, the problem
lay less in the subject matter and more
in the student: Akane was simply clumsy. And, when
Ranma came, she learned that not
only was that clumsiness painfully apparent in
culinary matters, but that it also
manifested in martial arts as well. Ranma's eased
proficiency in two of the most
important parts of Akane's life always seemed
unfair, incredibly and cosmically unjust.
But after yesterday, the injustice was reduced to
a mere inevitability. Neither of them
could help the differential in their fighting or
cooking skills, nor did it matter, at least not
in the end. Little did. Her righteousness was
crumbling, and with it, came a dulling
acquiescence that begged immediate resolution.
By this time she had already walked over to the
table, where the rest of the family had
already gathered around. With a visible lack of
interest, she set into the morning fare.
A few moments later she was treated to a still
female Ranma, who mumbled a thank you
to Kasumi and sat down at the spot clearly
reserved for her; her still untied hair causing
more than a few stares from the family. With
little more vigor than Akane, she also
started upon the meal. But if the family noticed
this lackluster performance from either of
them, they said nothing. Nabiki and Kasumi busied
themselves planning the agenda for
the day, lying in the sun, while Soun and Genma
instead reminisced over some long
forgotten exploit, involving two large bowls of
sukiyaki and a fire alarm.
Finally, Ranma's chopsticks neatly clicked against
her plate, and after locating her shoes,
she meandered outside. A few moments later, Akane
also finished and followed her
fianc�. Just as she suspected, Ranma was near the
stream. Martial artists just couldn't
pass as immortal, all-powerful, as Akane had said
to herself ever since her family had lost
a member. It was Ranma who always tried to forget
this. She walked over to Ranma,
noticing how the fog hung over the ocean, and a
lighter mist rolled over the forest, but
Akane's frequent trips to the ocean told her both
would soon be burnt away by the
morning sun.
Akane could see where Ranma was focusing. Her
fianc� was looking out at the ocean, the
horizon, and the sand. She stood, mesmerized by
the nearby river, and how it ran through
the rocky beach. The beach was covered by smooth,
worn rocks, diminished by time and
weather. Her gaze followed the contour of the
shore to where the beach was
overwhelmed by the cliffs of a familiar bluff, a
buttress against the waves, it's sole
charge to safeguard a gnarled tree that stood on
the cliff. It hung precipitously hung over
a watery doom, but was anchored into the rock. The
stony cliff that supported it was
barren, and rocky...even grass was absent, only
the lone tree persevered in its loneliness.
But from Ranma's view, she could see where the
ocean's tide dashing against the rocks
had left its mark, and she could see the cliff
already receding, leaving only a thin
overhang to safeguard its solitary ward.
Eventually, the rock would retreat further,
leaving only an abandoned tree to crash to its
grave. What would happen to the rock? She
looked down at her feet, covered with the ancient
rocks, ground down. Were all of these
once cliffs? Was she standing on a graveyard of
thousands of once-majestic bastions of
unyielding strength, made casualties of the harsh
water? She picked up a rock...it was
useless, small, refined...but, she mused, almost
soft to the touch- and appealing to look
at. She idly recalled that Akane had a few rocks
like these on her desk, something to look
at and feel during idle moments, or maybe during a
long night of studying. Ranma
watched Akane walk up, and she threw the rock into
the river. It made a small splash, but
the ripples were soon washed away by the river's
unceasing flow. She could throw
another rock, but the results would be the
same...the inevitability of the river's victory
over the rock seemed so unfair, but...for once,
oddly fitting. She tensed slightly, as if
bracing for Akane's words. They came, as expected,
but Ranma's preparations were still
woefully inadequate.
"Ranma..." Silence. Akane tried again. "Ranma, is
it still hurting?"
"Not much." She turned her head to face Akane. "If
it was, you'd be hearing about it. "
Ranma smiled. "You know, I can't even remember
which rock it was." She vaguely
gestured towards the river.
"I think it was that one right there." Akane
pointed at one rock in particular, noteworthy
in how it extruded out of the stream into the
morning air, any blood long since born away
by the eternal rush of water.
"Ah. Thank you Akane. It's not like I want to
forget about it or anything." Akane knew
better than to take offense. Silence again, but
less than before. Ranma turned to face
Akane.
"Umm, Akane, about last night..."
"Yes Ranma?"
"Just...just don't worry 'bout it, okay?" Ranma's
inability to meet Akane's eyes told that
she herself was unable to do what she had just
requested. "Don't go thinking that I'd
wanna' touch an..." Her voice, originally soft,
tapered off into nothing. She turned away
from Akane, favoring instead the expanse of
overcast ocean.
"An...an uncute tomboy like you." Ranma finished
her statement. Akane could barely
hear the final words, but could fill in the rest
of the well-worn phrase by herself, without
straining to hear.
Ranma looked out at the misty waters. The gray
subdued the ocean, but couldn't suppress
its appeal. The endless whitecaps, stretching out
further than she could see, seemed to
have a beautiful order to them, almost as if the
rows of random ebbing and flowing were
together chaotic in unison.
"The ocean is beautiful today. I can't point to
anything about it, but somehow, I can just
feel it."
"Ranma, the sun isn't even out. It'll be even
better when the clouds are gone."
"It's pretty now, with all the mist, isn't it?
Especially where the ocean meets the rocks
right there...where the gray water meets the gray
stone." Ranma gestured to where she
had been looking previously.
"I guess so..."
"I dunno why I like it, but...I do."
"Ranma, I'm sorry about the pajamas."
"Akane, it's fine. They did look kinda' cute, I
guess."
"On you, they did."
"Akane..."
"Will you be changing back?"
"I'm sorry for this morning, Akane."
"Ranma, its okay-"
"I...shouldn't have acted like I did."
"No, really Ranma, it's fine."
Ranma sighed. "That's all I had to say."
"What?"
"I don't have anything else to tell you." As if to
end the encounter, Ranma sat down next
to the stream, staring out to the ocean.
"Ranma, I came over to talk to you."
Ranma gave Akane a pleading glance. "And you did."
"So you want me to leave, is that it?"
Ranma looked at Akane without speaking. But she
didn't have to. Need was a language
they had both became fluent in. Akane punctured
the silence with a sharp breath and sat
down next to Ranma.
"I...know you don't."
Ranma looked over at Akane, and smiled wanly.
"Well...I guess not entirely."
They sat, wordless, until Ranma softly spoke, "My
butt's getting cold."
Akane grinned. The chill was mutual.
"Well then, Ranma, let's move somewhere."
"Okay." She looked up expectantly at Akane, who
hesitated, then boldly stood up.
Ranma followed suit.
"See that trail over there?"
Ranma wordlessly nodded her assent, and followed
Akane as she made her way to where
the sand gave way to dust, and a short meter away,
sprung into an impenetrable wall of
forest. Akane guided them to a small opening in
the dense green, and soon a pair of heads
was bobbing along an overgrown path through a
sylvan expanse. Despite the many
obstacles in the path, Ranma smiled as she looked
at the leafy masses. Akane, on the
other hand, was fervently cursing how the
undergrowth seemed to invade the trail with
ever-increasing success.
The trail gently loped to the right, and Ranma and
Akane followed the contours, even as
the path shrunk more and more, and tree trunks and
shrubs openly made war on the
cleared walkway.
"I'm sorry Ranma. Seems like my trail idea was a
bust." Akane kept walking, but it
became more and more difficult.
"Aww, Akane. I wouldn't say that." Ranma cocked
her head to look at Akane. "Maybe
the trail hasn't been worked on for a while, but-"
Once again, Ranma's voice broke off
into a scream as she plummeted and hit the ground
with a thud.
"Damn it! What the hell is this? What's with all
these damn cliffs?" This time, Ranma
had landed on her hands and knees, her facing
several inches above a river. The river.
She got up, and Akane could see the words Ranma
was mouthing to herself. Akane
blushed, and jumped down, with an understandable
sense of d�j� vu. She gingerly lifted
Ranma in her arms, and walked over to a large
clump of ferns.
"Akane, I'm fine! No really! Maybe I wasn't last
time, but now I am! Damn it, Akane!"
"God, your charm dazzles me. You sound like a
sailor."
"Ohhh...Akane-chan, I'm sorry to-"
In one smooth motion, Ranma stuck her legs out,
locked them around Akane's and
pulled. Akane's knees buckled, and she lost her
balance. Ranma quickly shot her arm up
to slow her descent, and Akane was gently lowered
into the ferns as well.
"-disturb you." Ranma gave Akane her best cutesy-
girl smile, and when Akane pushed
herself to her hands and knees, and felt her face
covered with fern pods and dew, burst
out laughing at the sight of Ranma's grin. Ranma
placed a hand on Akane's cheek, a look
of concern on her face.
"Here, Akane-chan, it seems your face got a little
green. Let me help."
"Oh, thank you ever so much, Ranma-chan, how shall
I repay you?" As Ranma moved to
wipe some of the foliage off, Akane sprung on top
of Ranma, pushing the two of them
deeper into the green patch.
"You!"
***
Amidst peals of frantic giggling, Akane had won.
Ranma was pinned flat on her back,
and Akane, the exultant victor, leaned forward to
impart her message to her vanquished
foe. Both girls were gasping for air.
"Well, Ranma-chan, I think this settles things,
doesn't it?" She rolled off Ranma, face up,
her neck tickled by the rough ferns. By now,
patches of sun broke through the tree's
canopy, and shone upon their faces. Ranma lazily
stretched, content in her makeshift bed,
lightly touching Akane. But then a disturbing
thought came to her, and quickly forced
articulation.
"Not yet, Akane, I...wanted to apologize-"
"For this morning?" Akane's conciliatory phrase
was intended to end the matter. "Hey,
those things just sort of happen."
"For last night. They happen because-" Ranma
swallowed. "We make them happen, and-
"
"Ranma, just leave it alone. It's over, and I'm
done with it."
"But Akane, last night-"
"Ranma! Stop!" Akane paused. "There's nothing to
talk about!" Akane's outburst caused
Ranma to look away, but only added to the trouble
Akane saw on her face.
The birds chirped their ditties in the background,
the sun continued to shine down upon
them. But Ranma lay there, the rise of her chest
the only evidence of activity. The
wistful, almost dejected smile on Ranma's face was
hauntingly familiar to Akane, and
she instinctively felt its importance. But try as
she might, she couldn't place where that
particular expression had broke through Ranma's
usual grin before.
Time drew on until, for comfort's sake, Ranma
turned so that one fern in particular
wouldn't poke her in the neck. Akane found she was
directly looking into Ranma's eyes.
And Ranma was looking at hers. Akane suddenly
realized where that flicker of
recognition she felt had came from, from the
dinner table, with Auntie Saotome. It was
when Auntie was talking about Ranma, about the
times they shared before Ranma left to
train... and Akane had lightly passed her eyes
over Ranma, only to be riveted by the
expression she saw. It was the same, it was...
It was the look on Ranma's face when he had
arrived from China, the look of someone so
tied to a past life and lost memories that they
had been driven away by life's unceasing
flow, the look of someone longing to cut
themselves loose. Akane only now saw how
brazenly accepting Ranma had wanted to be, ever
since their very first time in the dojo.
Neither of them had seen it. They shouldn't have
been so courageous, Akane knew, but
there was no time for remorse.
"Ranma..." Akane's call roused Ranma, her reverie
halted, her eyes once again focusing
on those of Akane.
"Akane?"
"Are you okay?"
"After yesterday? Sure, no problems. Not one, not
at all." Despite Ranma's words, Akane
heard the uncertainty in her voice, the terror,
but also the...
Akane put her hand on Ranma's shoulder, loosely
clutching. "No, I'm not talking about
that." She propped herself up on her elbow.
"Our fight this morning? Yeah, I'm...fine..."
"No Ranma..." Akane gently moved her hand from
Ranma's shoulder to lie lightly
across Ranma's waist. They were both oblivious to
the world around them. "I mean you."
Ranma 's only response was to allow her jaw to
drop ever so slightly, parting her lips and
letting her jaw hang in rapt oblivion. Akane
tightened her grip around Ranma's waist, and
was rewarded by a short gasp from Ranma. Ranma's
face was conflicted, a look of
helplessness etched.
Akane lowered herself off her elbow, preferring
instead to place her arm around Ranma's
other shoulder. Ranma was frozen, petrified in
that static pose. Akane gently pulled with
both hands, so that Ranma's face hovered above her
own.
"Please tell me Ranma. Are you okay?"
"I..." Ranma looked close to tears. "I..." Akane
saw Ranma bow her head in resignation,
her breathing heavy and almost labored. "No,
I'm...not..." Ranma hung her head in
shame. But suddenly, her eyes were lit by an
intense passion. Ranma jerked her head
directly above Akane's.
"But I want to be!"
Akane on impulse closed her eyes. Akane sensed
Ranma's breath, and a moment later,
Ranma applied a soft, sensual pressure from her
lips to Akane's. She immediately tensed.
Her eyes sprung open, to see Ranma's face
amazingly close, her eyelids shut so strongly
that they quivered, her breath held in
apprehension. But Akane understood. Ranma, after
Akane's silence, raised her head in concern,
opening her questioning eyes. That tragically
innocent face, that vulnerable look was enough to
make Akane aggressively pull Ranma
down again, for a more passionate embrace, one
that would leave no doubt. Akane could
swear she heard Ranma sigh in relief, and saw
Ranma's eyelids, still shut, drop their
tension.
"Akane..." Ranma ended the kiss, voicing her
fianc�'s name.
"Ranma..." Akane, for once, responded with the
same tender tone. Ranma looked at her,
smiling serenely. Akane fell back into the ferns,
taking Ranma with her.
***
The lunch the family ate was notably one of the
more pleasant they'd had for quite a
time. If Nabiki had wondered why Akane & Ranma had
taken over four hours to finish
their walk, she said nothing. If Kasumi had
wondered why their clothing was covered
with specks of green, from the bottom of their
pants to the tops of their shirts, she made
no sign of it. And if Genma or Soun had wondered
why the girls had come in giggling
over some secret obscurity, they certainly showed
far more interest in the admittedly
deserving lunch, now extinct.
Which is what made the tryst in the ferns so
delicious, Akane reflected as she sat on a
couch, looking out at the ocean. Ranma was
sprawled over the same couch, her head in
Akane's lap. Her family was oblivious, content to
revel in the pathos of a recent Shogi
game, revealed by the enthusiastic fathers to the
amused sisters. But really, this came to
Akane as no surprise. Because her father could
only ask how his girls were, and her
sisters could only tell about an odd dream, or an
interesting article in a magazine. Or any
of the other millions of directionless tidbits in
a life, meaningless and random. That's
how it had always been, ever since the loss of
Akane's mother, and Akane usually would
join her sisters in that idle family distraction.
Akane could have told a joke that would
have made them all chuckle, as she'd thought up a
bunch of good stories from school,
just for this vacation. But as she sat on the
couch, and stroked Ranma's crimson locks,
she knew she now could do something more
important, something with meaning. And so
she did.
"Akane?" Ranma's gaze was locked on the rolling
waves, still thrashing the sky with the
aid of overhanging clouds.
"Hmm?" Her response was both a question and an
affirmation.
"I think I know why the stormy ocean is so
beautiful."
Questioningly, "It might be better later...you
know, maybe after the clouds burn off."
"You're right, of course, it could always be
better. But for the first time in as long as I
can remember, I dunno' how."
And as they gazed and smiled, dreaming of a
wakeful slumber, they heard echos of their
family in gay abandon outside on the surf; they
heard the thunderous rising tide crash
down upon rocks and seashells alike.
*******
The End
*******
Well, there you have it. My attempt at a Waffy
fic. Hmm...I guess I missed the scene
where they embrace while crying and reconcile all
their differences, affectionately calling
each other 'baka' and 'kawaiikune'. Maybe next
time.
Please do whatever with whatever C&C you
have...email me at haxchan@yahoo.com,
post it to FFML...And be as critical as you want
about whatever you want. No matter
how idiotic your suggestions are, I'll listen to
them. And if they're *good*, so much the
better.
Props to Sunny Day Real Estate. The Rising Tide is
a song (and album) of theirs. Also,
their lyrics provided some inspiration for some of
the scenes, and the following lines are
used. Yeah, used without permission. And yes, you
musical infidels, they *did* go on to
become the Foo Fighters.
SDRE Quote In Fic:
"I wonder how many days I'll bleed" - Fool in the
Photograph
Others
"My Righteousness is crumbling" - I Just Threw Out
the Love of My Dreams, Rentals
"You should try not to be so courageous" -
Courage, Alien Ant Farm
The idea of Ranma's head being in Akane's lap was
taken from the Adolescence of
Utena. But you knew that anyway, eh?
Thanks to Sam Brown (www.gameart.com/4ca) for his
3ft program line parser that gives
me an excuse to muck around with w2k's command
line. Righteous.
Thanks to my pre-readers, JefferyD@epimp.com (of
Take Off Your Clothes fame...
interesting title, exceptional quality) in
particular for his kindly worded 'no Monty
Python' advice and initial encouragement. And
thanks in advance to whomsoever decides
to contact me because of this fic.
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