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>From beginning to end, it all revolves around the little black dress, Akane thought as she sat on the edge of the bed.  We wow them with some daring mini, celebrate the good times with a power number... and say goodbye in a plain, silk sea of black.  Except for that one day in white... it all revolves around the black.

She allowed herself the smallest of smiles at her own joke, and stood up to view herself in the mirror.  Truth to tell, she still had it: her body sang with the fitness of a lifetime of martial arts, her dark eyes still danced as they had decades earlier... only a few wrinkles and the solid gray hair tied back spoke of the fifty-nine years of life she'd experienced.  

She was still too young, she thought: too young to be a widow.  She still had life in her veins; she could still bench-press a car if called to.  So had Ranma, up to the last year.  She may have the years, but the life... she was still young.  

They both were.

She closed her eyes.  If she concentrated hard enough, she could feel gentle hands on her shoulders... a warmth of breath against her skin...

*************************

Leifker presents...

No Dominion

A Ranma 1/2 work of anime fanfiction by Nicholas Leifker

All Ranma 1/2 characters created by Rumiko Takahashi, and I claim no ownership of those characters.  All other characters created by Nicholas Leifker; those I do claim some control over.  I ask that you not do anything with any part of this work without permission.  

I'm back...

*************************

"Do you want to be friends?"

Here was a person Akane could instinctively understand.  It was obvious that she knew the Art; she moved with a simple fluidity that betrayed her education.  She seemed nice enough, if somewhat embarrassed at finding herself 'engaged'.  Also, she looked... well... 'lost' seemed the right word, like she'd been wandering the world without a friend.  Moreover, jealousy didn't even seem possible with her; she didn't seem the type to get upset at things so... petty.

Here was a girl that needed knowing.  She'd been lonely this year at school; to have a friend she could talk to would make the hell of boys so much easier to deal with.  

It was clear that this girl was lonely, too.  She looked up at Akane with these innocent blue eyes; a smile formed on her lips, just before she nodded 'yes'.

She led Ranma to the dojo; the girl stared at the surroundings in mild approval.  "Nice dojo," she whispered quietly.  

She rubbed a hand against the hard wood of its walls; she'd known this place as long as she'd known herself.  "Yes, it is.  This place... this is where I belong.  Father first taught me the basics of the Art in here; ever since, I've been trying to be as good as I can.  You?"

The girl frowned.  "I... I don't know.  I've never really had a home."

Akane blinked.  "Never?"

Ranma looked down at her feet.  "Not really.  Pop and I have been traveling for as long as I can remember.  He wanted me to be the best martial artist in the world, so..."

Akane looked at her in mild amazement.  "You mean you've never had a home?"  A familiar pang washed over her.  "Not even... not even a mother?"

Ranma stared at the walls thoughtfully; Akane wondered what she was really seeing.  "None that I can remember."  

Akane nodded.  "I lost my mom, too, years ago.  It must not have been easy growing up without her.  I mean, I had my older sisters, but..."

Ranma stared at her quizzically, an innocent stare that sent questions within Akane's own mind.  She'd always keenly felt the loss of her mother; could Ranma have been without one for so long that she didn't know what she'd lost?  "I... I'm sorry.  I didn't know..."

Something resolved in Akane's mind at these words.  She couldn't be a mother to Ranma; nobody could be except Ranma's real mother, wherever she happened to be.  However, she and her sisters would be as close as they could be to a mother for this girl.  Ranma clearly needed a mother's presence, and she and her sisters could definitely supply some female guidance.  And, for Akane, that started here, in her home - the dojo.  "So.  Are you ready to spar?"

Something sparkled in Ranma's eyes at those words.  Yes, Akane thought, this was definitely the beginning of a beautiful friendship...

***

He was back.  *He* was back.

The sight shocked her so much that she forgot where they were - in the bath, as Ranma was in the middle of a soak.  All of the anxieties of the past weeks began to flow slowly out of her; unfortunately, the energy those demons burned wasn't leaving.  

Then she got a good look at him - at least, what she could see from above the bath's rim.  She gulped as she looked at his chest and shoulders; muscles that held the perfect mix of strength and flexibility flowed like the water below it.  His face was never 'bishonen' - well, unless you counted his other form - but rugged, as though carved out of the rock he'd so recently come from.  Blue eyes stared back at her with a touch of annoyance, and she took a step back; she'd walked in on him in the bath - again.

Hmmm.  Maybe she was becoming a pervert.  Served him right for influencing her like that. 

"Hey, Akane.  I'm back."

The words came out before she wanted them to, born of frustration, asking him why he'd gone into the bath while she was still worried... worried about him.

It had taken a lot to get that far, she realized.  She... she could admit that she cared for him; it was hard to deny what she'd felt while he was gone.  Ranma had come to represent a place inside of her, the absence of which she'd keenly felt after he'd left.  Each day had simply been worse than the last, as omen after omen came warning of doom.  Eventually, she'd thought he'd never come home - that he'd either be stuck as a girl or...

Somehow, it just came; she glomped him.  She didn't flaunt it like Shampoo did; she just wanted to hold him.  She needed to feel his warmth, his strong muscles; he needed to smell that unique, sweet-musky scent she knew as Ranma; she even needed to hear that uncultured, scratchy voice that too often insulted her.

"Welcome back, Ranma," she whispered.  

Those weren't quite the words she wanted to say, but they were close enough.

***

She was holding on.  Barely.

She felt like she was holding onto the top of a cliff with just her fingernails - and they were starting to carve lines in the rock.  Every part of her ached: the tiny, fragile doll that was her body, the clawing, incessant buzz of her mind, the itch for release that was her soul... she'd scream, if only she had voice to.  

The fight, from her vantage point, was beyond anything she'd ever seen.  She'd never seen a death match before, but this most certainly was one.  No quarter asked for, nor given; Ranma and Saffron were trading blasts, with Ranma usually the worse off.  He couldn't keep up the pace much longer, she knew...

Then the whisper came, a dangerous plea, one that sounded incredibly logical to her ears.

End it.

If she... let go... Ranma's reason for fighting would be gone.  He... he could withdraw with his life intact.  Likely he and Ukyou would become a couple; no doubt, Father and Mr. Saotome would push Nabiki on him, but experience had shown the folly of that.  They'd go on, and he'd life a wonderful, fruitful life.  

She could live with that.  He'd risked his life for her on so many occasions.  She... she would willingly give up her life for his.  He couldn't beat Saffron; they both knew it.  If... if she was gone, he wouldn't have a reason to fight, and he could go on.

He could survive.  And she... she would live on in him.

She knew there was something beyond.  Occasionally she felt the touch of her mother's presence in her darkest hours; no doubt, she would be allowed to give the same to the man she loved.  She would watch as he grew into full manhood, as he played with his noisy children, as he aged, graceful and dignified, into life's twilight...

And, when he was done, she'd be waiting for him.  She started to slip; her eyes began to close.

That's when the feeling hit.  It wasn't anything she could pinpoint to anything specific; it just surrounded her, bolstering her weakening resolve... comforting her as a mother does her child.

She smiled quietly.  Maybe it was time for her to go -

The warmth that surrounded her changed slightly.  It wasn't just giving comfort... it gave courage.  It wanted her to fight on.  A picture entered her mind, and she understood.

Her mother wanted her to fight on - for him.

She didn't know if she could; she was already beginning to slip away.  And this fight... it... she didn't want Ranma to join her on this.  Not now; not so soon.  

Another mental picture came to her, causing her to snarl in frustration.  Shampoo.  She'd survive, all right, if for no other reason than to make sure that... that... she couldn't even think the words.  Shampoo had used her as a pawn, bargaining with her life to get Ranma to do her will.  Ukyou and Nabiki would face the same problems - and Ranma still wouldn't have a solution.

Ranma still needed her.  That's why he fought so hard.  That's why she had to fight so hard here.

She found herself smiling, even as her eyes began to close.

***

Ranma definitely knew how to get lost, Akane thought as she hid behind a forest bush.  He and his father had taken a tour of Japan that few others could even contemplate; they'd lived in caves and bus stations and culverts and monasteries, scratching out existence as father taught son the lessons of the Art.  His father had taught him how to hide, usually through real-life tests, and had shown him just about everything there was to know of the Land of the Rising Sun.  In fact, Akane wouldn't have had a clue as to where to find him if she didn't know him - and, despite this, it had taken almost a week of work to track him.

He'd used the Saotome Secret Technique again.  Shampoo and Cologne had stepped up the pressure; Akane... preferred not to think about what she'd almost done.  At any rate, she and Ranma had found their way through it - and then he'd disappeared.  Not a word, not a goodbye - just a neatly-folded pile of bed linens and an empty space where his backpack normally was.

Ranma, no doubt, had his reasons for leaving; however, her reasons for him staying were hopefully more important.  Her eyes narrowed as she caught a flash of red shirt; she would have let out a sigh of relief, but she didn't want her presence felt yet.

The girl in the clearing was most definitely Ranma; however, a couple of differences screamed out at her.  For one, her pigtail had come undone; she still tied her hair back in a simple ponytail, a chaotic river of scarlet that ran between her shoulder blades.  Something about her bearing was off; her shoulders drooped slightly, and her lips curled into a small, almost pouty frown.  The eyes, however, told most of the story; they didn't flash with brilliant confidence or fiery anger, but stared ahead into the fire without interruption, a dead-calm sea of blue where storms should rage.

Saotome Ranma wasn't angry, or sad, or anything nearly resembling such tempests.  Saotome Ranma was tired.  She looked weary of life.  Akane pursed her lips in thought; she hadn't expected such a... non-confrontational problem.

"You can come out now, Akane."

Akane rose timidly from her blind.  "Hey, Ranma."  She had never been good with words; the filters of embarrassment and fear generally held the glomps and professions of love in check.  "What's up?"

Ranma stared up at her as she stirred the campfire stew.  If Ranma's eyes had startled her before, seeing them directly froze her in place.  Ranma wasn't just tired, she was weary... old.  "Nothin'.  Just..." Her head tilted to one side, "... I'm sorry."

Akane blinked.  Apologies had never been Ranma's strong suit.  "For what?"

Ranma closed her eyes.  "For all the trouble I get you in.  It's not easy on me; I'm sure it can't be easy on you."  She shook her head.  "Well, you don't have to worry about it anymore."

An ugly feeling settled inside her at Ranma's words.  "Wh-why not?"

Ranma let out a deep, long sigh, the kind that spoke of coming words that were better silent.  "I won't bother your family anymore, Akane.  You... you nearly... I never realized how much trouble I put you in until last week.  I can't put you through that, Akane; I can't put anyone through that."  She threw a blade of grass into the fire; it made a brief spark before blending into the flame.  "That's why I'm leaving."

"L-leaving?"  Akane had been afraid of this; at least now she was on comfortable ground.  "Y-you can't leave, Ranma!  You... me..."  She cursed the cowardice within herself; if she had a backbone, she'd have him back in Nerima by now.  "What about us?" she finally squeaked out, a pale shadow to what she wanted to say.

"Akane."  The look was one Akane would have given her soul for.  "I... I love you.  I came to that realization a long time ago."  She turned away; to Akane, it felt as though the Kami had turned their back on her.  "That's why I have to go, Akane."

"Why, Ranma?  WHY?" Akane squealed.  "Am I..."

"No," Ranma whispered.  She stood up and grabbed Akane by the shoulders.  "Akane, the day I met you was the best day of my life.  You're kind, beautiful, generous, caring, compassionate... except for the cooking, you're everything a man could ask for.  The past year-and-a-half were the best years of my life."  Her eyes lowered.  "You deserve better than a freak like me, Akane.  A lot better."

Akane's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets - a second before old words came back to haunt her.  A freak.  She'd called him a freak, back in the early days, when they both were fighting the engagement and trading insults.  Ranma thought of himself as a freak, and was leaving her because of it.

She often thought about the next few seconds in the years to come, usually with a slight blush.  Desperation pushed cowardice out the window; within a second, she'd raised Ranma's chin with one hand, grabbed her by the waist with the other, and gone for a full lip-lock.  She felt the pressure of Ranma's chest on her own and the small of Ranma's back against her hand; she even felt, though barely, the lack of any masculine bulge between Ranma's thighs.  Normally she would have blanched at the concept of kissing another woman, even Ranma, but desperate times called for desperate measures.  

After about three seconds, all of that faded.  She was kissing the person she loved; nothing mattered anymore.  She noticed Ranma's eyes slowly relax from shock to something resembling pleasure; the redhead began to slip into the embrace, giving as much as she was receiving.  

She started crying; she couldn't help it.  She needed this - THEY needed this...

"I'm sorry!" Ranma shook her head and turned away quickly; Akane stared in amazement.  "Th-thanks for trying, Akane.  I know that must've been hard on -"

"Baka!"

Ranma blinked.  "Huh?"

Akane wiped her eyes; she realized quickly what had happened.  "Ranma, I wasn't crying because I didn't like it.  I was crying because... because I needed it."  She wrapped her arms around Ranma, crushing her in a bear hug.  "Do you know how long we've been dancing around this?  How long I've... I've wanted this?"  She rested her head on Ranma's back.  "Ranma, I know life with you isn't easy.  But... but I'd rather have you with all the craziness than have a normal life without you."  She chuckled nervously.  "I guess..."

Ranma blinked.  "What is it?"

Akane turned Ranma around by the shoulders and hugged her.  She'd been about to call herself a pervert, but thought better.  "Forget it, Ranma.  Just hold me."  They entwined again, this time with more comfort than passion; again, Akane felt Ranma's feminine curves meet up with her own.

She decided that she could get used to such activities...

***

Akane's mind framed the chaos and cataloged it in an orderly manner; she'd been working hard to control her temper of late, and detachment was the only way to keep from screaming.  The ceremony had been put on hold; except for a few who needed medical attention, all of the wedding guests had moved outside the dojo to relative safety.   Inside the wrecked remains of the dojo, medical personnel tended to the injured; a few police officers asked questions of those still on the Tendou grounds, making statements, hopefully building a case.  One person in particular garnered her attention, a lonely figure near the front.  She still lay on the floor like a broken toy; the bruises on her face and the compound fracture of her left arm, combined with the cheongsam outfit she'd worn to the wedding, made her appear very much the shattered china-doll.  

This had been closer than she'd cared for.  They'd tried to keep the wedding from certain people, most notably the Kunous and the Nekohanten; unfortunately, Shampoo had received word of the ceremony, and had sought to interrupt the festivities by taking her head.  As for how close Shampoo had come... she'd rather not think of that.  

She looked up to Ranma, who held her at his side.  His eyes faced forward; they burned with an anger more appropriate to her than to him.  During the fight, she'd seen a side of him that terrified her, as he'd come dangerously close to killing Shampoo in his rage.  It had been a near thing, on all sides.  

No more.  Her eyes spotted the minister they'd asked to perform the ceremony; the elderly gentleman sported an ice pack over one eye as he watched the others mingle.

"Ranma?" she asked quietly.  

He quickly looked down at her.  "Yeah?"

She bit her lip.  "Do you still want to do the ceremony?  I mean, if we get it done now while certain people are either unconscious or away..."

Ranma blinked for a moment.  "Are you sure?  I mean..."  He rubbed a hand along the side of his neck, to reference her own cut.  

Akane rubbed the bandage placed there; her wedding dress was stained maroon beneath it.  "Ranma, if we don't do this now... they'll just keep on coming.  I... I nearly lost my head today; I don't want to think about what they might do in the future."  She closed her eyes.  "I can't let them win like this."  Tears started to find their way to her eyes; she wiped them away self-consciously.  "Ranma, if you don't want to do this, I understand.  But I... I want this.  I want you."

Ranma looked away in thought for a moment, then nodded.  "Okay... but on one condition."

Akane blinked.  "What is it?"

Ranma nodded, as though slowly doing a calculation in his head.  "I start training you, in earnest.  Shampoo may not be fighting anytime soon, but there's no telling what Mousse or the old ghoul might be up to.  And I... I'm afraid I might not be able to protect you one day."  His eyes sparkled in the sunlight; his lips smiled at the possibilities.  "We start during the honeymoon.  I hear Hawaii has some great places to camp out."

Training.  Ranma wanted to train her - for real.  No more avoiding, no more kid-gloves... real training.

A stray thought crossed Akane's mind: bridal training?

"Okay, Ranma."  She pulled around, and started to lead him to the minister.  "Let's go."

***

The sign hung just slightly crooked and the calligraphy wasn't the most beautiful; she never was good at arts and crafts.  Five characters displayed prominently, with a few more on the side.

Saotome Dojo.  Indiscriminant Grappling.

Finally, everything had been put into place.  No more worrying about engagements or other entanglements; Ranma and Ukyou had settled, while Shampoo was forced to "settle" with the Chinese and Japanese governments.  The marriage had come; the dojo now passed into their hands.

One thing about Ranma; he'd made a name for himself.  Word had spread about the return of classes to the dojo; while the classes weren't full, they were quite impressive for a just-opening dojo.  She and Ranma would have their hands full; the classes ranged from basic self-defense to advanced tactics, and they had a good number of students for each one.

She smiled at the sign.  Such a simple plank, but it carried meaning beyond its wood.  It officially announced that the school was open for business and, by extension, had met and defeated all challengers.  Of course, not many dojos counted princes, whole tribes, and demigods among that collection...

A flash of memory - a photograph - came back to her, and she rubbed her stomach absently.  Father and Mother had once done this; they'd had their picture taken the day that Father had opened the dojo years ago.  She blushed at the memory; Father was so young, and Mother was carrying Kasumi -

"I love you," came a heavy breath behind her.  Arms snaked around her hips to latch on, a kiss at the base of her neck left her purring.  

"I love you, Ranma," she whispered in reply, reaching her arms up to wrap around his neck.  "Love you lots."  

Her mind went back to that picture; Mother was known for her mischievous streak when she was young...

"Oh, by the way, Ranma..."

***

Love and fear.

She thought she'd known what each of them were.  Her courtship with Ranma had been of the hard-earned variety, and the events that led to their joining some of the most terrifying she could ever imagine.  After that, anything else seemed petty; danger to life and limb was all taken in stride, and she'd taken her pregnancy with surprising equanimity.

Now, she had both in amounts she hadn't thought possible.  Five pounds, three ounces of it, to be precise.  Kaori was so tiny; her skinny, bird-like arms and legs flailed about as she lay in her crib.  Her blue eyes were closed as her mouth twitched, but she knew how pure the sapphire was beneath those tightly-shut eyelids.  A few strands of red hair poked out from her head; Akane ran her fingers through them, smiling, marveling at the impossible softness of them.  Her hands lightly touched the nodes on Kaori's head as she passed; she was grateful for the reading she'd done, or she'd be even more terrified of those.

Love and fear.  This girl she loved unconditionally, and feared for the safety of with equal completeness.  Every twitch, every cry, every little thing left Akane with questions.  Yet, she needed to protect this child, to guide her into the world, to show her love beyond all understanding.  Ranma held a similar place now; their relationship had been taken to a new level.

They were more than mother and father.  They were parents, soulmates... a family.  

She wasn't sure if Ranma quite understood.  Labor had been beyond description; he'd stayed by her side, even as she railed on in her agony, but he still hadn't felt the pain of... of her body splitting.  That did things to a woman.  She'd already put her body on the line for this little girl, and would do so a million times over.  Would he?

Akane looked in his blue eyes, eyes dulled by a lack of sleep but dazzled by the little heartbreaker in her crib.  He did understand, in his own way.  He probably felt the fear even more than she did; helplessness was something she knew better than he, and had to worry about them both now (even if he insisted he didn't worry over her anymore).  But oh, yeah... he knew the love.  

He reached out over the crib and touched her cheek.  "You should get some sleep."

She probably should.  She hadn't gotten more than a few hours sleep since leaving the hospital; her body screamed with post-childbirth aches and general sleep deprivation.  But...

"Could you get the futon?"

After a second, Ranma nodded.  He came back, and Akane blinked; he'd brought the larger futon.  She questioned him gently with her eyes; he just smiled with that cocky grin she loved.

"What, you honestly think you're sleeping alone?"

They spread it down on the floor.  The comfort of the futon nearly sent her to sleep; the warm body that wrapped around her completed the job.  

***

The ice cream tasted differently than what she remembered.

She wasn't sure how to put it, really. When she was younger, vanilla ice cream was simply a sugar-laden non-flavor, the default setting for ice cream that every child could agree on. Now, she could enjoy the subtle, slightly-bitter taste of the vanilla bean, the dark counterpoint to the cream and the sugar. It was the same ice cream she'd eaten since childhood; her adult tastes had simply found more layers to appreciate.

Life was like that, she decided. Childhood remains at its simplest form; adolescence provides different layers of complexity until adulthood comes - and find themselves taking on added layers.

She played with the fingers on her right hand, tickling ever-so-slightly the side of the woman she had latched on to. Ranma's own hands were full; four-year-old Kaori rode on her shoulders, dripping ice cream into her hair. The look on Ranma's face at Kaori's giggles said it all; no ice cream was definitely the better end of this deal.

They made it to the park; Ranma set Kaori down, and they both sat to watch her play.

She was a beauty, truth to tell.  They both were.  Ranma had been cute as a girl; the woman she had become was breathtaking.  She'd grown several inches, and it all seemed to have gone to her legs - legs which perhaps showed a bit too much with the skirt she wore, but she'd always been a showoff, anyway.  The T-shirt she wore was simple enough; Akane for once was grateful that Ranma had become secure enough in her self-image to wear a bra.  Ranma's face looked like any other young mother's as she watched Kaori play, with a serenity only those who knew the tempest of parenthood could claim; her face, devoid of adornment save the drying ice-cream on her forehead, still looked as though it should have graced the pages of some modeling magazine, with a face slightly lengthened from maturity, startling blue eyes, and lips that a man would have described as kissable.  

Akane closed her eyes, and smiled.  She really had become a pervert.  Fortunately, the other girls knew about Ranma, and paid them no mind when she grabbed Ranma's hand.

Then it happened.

The first sign of trouble was the sound of crying; the second, a more forceful cry.  "Give it back, Ken-chan!"  Akane sighed; one of the problems with telling some of Ranma's heroics to Kaori was that she tended to want to be heroic herself - as she stood over a crying Akemi.  

Ken-chan - a young boy with a bowl-cut and a love for the word 'no' - waved the sand shovel in his hands.  "No!  It's mine!"  

The mothers stood up as one; Ken's mother moved to scold the boy, while Akemi's got up to comfort and Kaori's - 

The eyes of all of the women widened when Kaori performed a perfect spin-kick to Ken's face.  The boy spun around, dropped the shovel, and found his face buried in the sand.  

For an agonizing second, silence took hold - a second before the chaos.  Alarmed voices punctuated the crying as things went out of control:

"Oh, my God, Ken-chan!  Are you okay?"

"Akemi!  Akemi, it's all right... see, here's your shovel back..."

"You!  How could you teach your child this?"  Yomiko, Ken's mother, whirled around accusingly.

Akane looked over at Ranma, who was equally surprised.  "You didn't... did you?"

Ranma sighed, rose from her position, and put her arms around Kaori.  "Kaori-chan... how did you learn to do that?"

"I watched you do it, Papa-chan," Kaori said quietly, her face set in a punishment-awaiting frown.  "I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

Ranma and Akane just looked at each other as they held a conversation with their eyes.  They didn't like what she'd done, but...

Ranma took a deep breath.  "Kaori... I think it's time we went home.  Papa isn't going to punish you this time.  But... I do think we need to have a talk about the Art.  Okay?"

"Okay..." The bored sigh said enough to both of them: she'd view the 'talk' as punishment in and of itself.  Of course, both Ranma and Akane hadn't appreciated the 'talks' when they were young martial artists, either... but the talks had done their job.  

Akane looked down at her daughter.  Red hair and blue eyes stared up at her.  She remembered a certain red-haired girl that had inhabited the dojo after Ryouga had found some magical mushrooms, and sighed.

Kaori was definitely Daddy's girl - and the parts of herself in the child seemed to be the ones she wasn't proud of.  Still... she could at least salvage the situation.  "Do you want to ride on my shoulders?"

The mercury of emotions that was her daughter changed in an instant; disappointed frown changed to broad smile.  Akane nodded, hefted the girl up in her arms, then onto her shoulders.  

She heard the squeal above and behind her, and smiled, though it came with less ease.  She had a feeling that her job as mother just got a bit harder.

***

The Art, Akane had come to realize, was something beyond what she knew.  Sure, she knew how to fight, and could more than hold her own in a scrap.  Any teacher worth her salt could do as much.  But those who knew the Art, who lived and breathed and thought the Art... those people were rare, and almost beyond understanding.  They simply mastered how to use their bodies, down to the slightest movement of a finger, and knew how to use that intimate knowledge to best use.

The result when one such person sparred was breathtaking.  When two such people sparred, a video camera was necessary both to watch the fight in detail again and to confirm that what was seen actually happened.

And she was married to one, and mother to a second.  

Ranma and Kaori faced off against each other in the dojo, their bodies performing a martial dance that she couldn't comprehend.  Punch and kick and block and feint all melded together, blending into a test of skills for the ages.  Their fighting styles varied from moment to moment, from straight kempo to kung fu to pi qua quan to more esoteric styles such as drunken boxing and pancration; both blended the best of each seamlessly, without even bothering to think that it shouldn't be done.  At any rate, she could tell enough that Ranma was holding back slightly - but only slightly.  Within two years, Kaori might be the one holding back.  

And that thought, frankly, scared her.

It had taken a long time for Akane to get over her adolescence.  Ranma attracted chaos the way mochi attracted flies; they just came out of nowhere to ruin something beautiful.  Her daughter was something beautiful - a smart, vibrant, intelligent twelve-year-old girl who was just beginning to come into her own.  She didn't want Kaori developing the scars that had plagued both her and her husband.  

But she would.  Regardless of what she may want, life would always come to interfere.  School would supply its rivals, as would Kaori's use of her gifts; anyone with the girl's strength and speed would attract challengers, even at her age.  Kaori was just really beginning to blossom into womanhood; Akane had watched as Kaori snuck glances at Kunou Wakizashi or Mu Fan, and looked away before either young man noticed.  No doubt, Kaori would likely have at least some of the entanglements that her father and mother had - and, considering that she'd inherited her mother's temper...

The session ended, and father and daughter bowed; a second later, two pairs of blue eyes turned to the door.

"What's up, Mom?"

Akane blinked; was the worry in her eyes that obvious?  "Kaori, I was wondering if you wanted to go shopping with me.  There's some things I need to get, and I thought you might want to join me."  She wrapped her arms around her child.  "Sound good?"

"Sure, Mom.  Just let me clean up first, okay?"  Kaori ran back to the house; Akane watched as she left.  Kaori was definitely growing up - and too fast for her comfort.

No, things were definitely not going to get any easier...

***

Like a sense honed from years of experience, Akane could hear her daughter crying.

Part of her - the part she'd tried to set aside - wanted to rip the heart out of the person responsible.  Part of her, the young mother looking after her child, also wanted to go up there, to comfort her, to make her feel like she was six years old again - protected and loved.  After all, Kaori was seventeen; who knew how many more opportunities for comfort Akane would get?

But... in the back of her mind were her parents and in-laws.  Daddy and Auntie and Uncle Saotome meddled in the worst way, and at the worst times.  They never asked her how she was feeling, or if the engagement was becoming too much; they simply added problem after problem to the situation until it became nearly unworkable.  Would she be making her daughter's problems worse by interfering?

"Ranma, do you think I should go up there?"  

Ranma sat back, and placed his teacup down on the table.  He was handsome, even at this age; his youthful looks had translated well to maturity.  "No."

Akane blinked; she hadn't expected such a decisive answer.  "Why not?"

Ranma's fingers steepled together as he eyed the expanse of the table.  "This is going to sound crazy, but... because of what we went through when we were that age.  Yeah, it was tough; yeah, we got into situations we shouldn't have been in.  But we also learned a lot from that stuff.  A lot of the crisis training we received from that mess is what got us through the problems we've had running this dojo.  We never panicked - and we always found a way out."  He looked down.  "She needs to find her way out."

Akane gritted her teeth.  "But Ranma... this isn't some martial artist duel.  This is because some boy can't control himself."  

Ranma sat back, ran his fingers through his graying hair, and sighed.  "Akane... I don't know.  I mean, she is our daughter.  Maybe all three of us should be up there."  His lips pursed thoughtfully for a moment.  "But... I think this is a problem she's going to need to get through without us.  Wakizashi is his father's son - and she's going to have to decide how to deal with his curse."

Akane raised an eyebrow.  "What about her curse?"

Ranma chuckled softly.  "Well, that's a given."  He grinned secretively.  "After all, if she can have your temper and my cockiness, she should be able to handle anything."

The muffled sobs caught Akane's ear once more.  "She doesn't sound very cocky tonight, Ranma..."

Ranma looked up at the ceiling thoughtfully for a few seconds, then nodded grimly.  "Go.  If you need a third, you know where I am."

Akane walked out of the living room and up the steps slowly, her mind measuring words and actions.  Ranma was right, in his way; Kaori needed to find her own path for this.  She needed to decide what to do about the boy's problems, and do so without any order from on high.  At the same time, she did need comforting, to soothe the boo-boo in her soul.  

Another problem caught her mind as she touched the sixth step up.  Kaori was a teenaged girl - and, like too many other teenaged girls, she preferred her own space.  "Mothering" tended to be frowned upon...

... but other things would be welcomed.  Kaori was most definitely a Saotome - and the way to a Saotome's heart...

She briskly strode down the steps and to the kitchen, picked up the cookie jar, and opened it.  Not many - only about ten chocolate-chip cookies left - but more than enough for a Mom job.  She neatly arranged them on a plate, poured two glasses of milk, and headed upstairs.

Sometimes the key to being a mother was how you approached your children, after all...

***

"I look ridiculous!"

Akane sighed gently.  Kaori did not look ridiculous; chances are, she'd send Wakizashi reaching for his meds to keep control.  Her face had been made up to perfection in the ancient style; her shimmering eyes and ruby lips invited the man she loved.  Her scarlet hair was pinned up for once; Akane knew from experience, however, that the real fun would come when the hair came down.  The gold-and-white wedding kimono dazzled in the sunlight, the symbol of rebirth to a new life.  Akane fought back a smirk as her eyes traced the golden strands, and wondered what Ranma and Tatewaki would think of the phoenix motif.  

Knowing them, they wouldn't notice.  Kaori would distract them too much.  

"Honey, you look incredible.  Much better than either your father or I did at your age."

Kaori snorted, and made a rather un-graceful move in the kimono; it figured that Akane's own lack of grace would come through in her child now... "Come on, Mom.  This... this isn't me.  This feels like I'm supposed to be someone else."  She crossed her arms within the sleeves.  "I feel like I'm playing dress-up... not getting married."

Akane sat her child down on the bed carefully.  "Do you love him?"

Kaori wrung her hands together.  "More than life, Mom."

Akane wrapped her hand around her child's waist.  "Then it won't be dress-up.  When you're there and he's there and you find yourself alone with him... it'll just happen.  I can't describe it; I mean, it'll seem like the most natural thing in the world.  I know it may seem like dress-up now... but, in the end, it'll be more of you than you ever thought possible."

Kaori slumped.  "Yeah, right, Mom.  Like a weird girl like me -"

"Kaori."  Akane's eyes showed tenderness.  "Yes, you're weird.  So am I, so's your father, so's your future husband.  Do you really want to be normal?"

"No... but sometimes..."  Kaori clearly tried to avoid tears, and barely succeeded.  "It's not easy, you know?  I mean, most girls have to worry about graduating from college.  Me, I get the occasional martial artist challenging me or trying to get me in the sack."  She shook her head.  "I'm tired of it, Mom... really tired."

Akane nodded.  "Then, if you want it done, see it through.  If you really love him, don't hold back.  Because that's the only way you're going to win."

Kaori nodded slowly.  "O... okay, Mom."  She stood up and straightened her kimono.  "I guess everyone's waiting, aren't they?"

Akane smiled, and gently squeezed her daughter's hand.  "I love you, tiger."

"I love you too, Mom."  A moment later, Kaori's face changed; the ceremony was on.  Akane followed her daughter out into the backyard, and went to her seat.

And, with luck, she'd have grandbabies to play with in a year or two.

***

Growing old isn't so bad, Akane thought.  The kids were starting to take over the dojo, she got to babysit her grandchildren for a good portion of the day, and both she and Ranma acted like they were eighteen.  

She'd aged gracefully; that was the best way to put it.  Both she and Ranma kept in shape through the Art, so they didn't have many of the aches and pains others their age had.  Time had also given her patience; it took an incredible effort, but she'd finally curbed the anger in her life.  Ranma, of course, had been a large part of that, showing how to 'redirect' that passion into something more constructive.

She smiled as he sat on the edge of the bed.  They'd been trading looks all evening; she'd been waiting for this.  Her hands moved to the belt of her gi; she untied it and let her gi fall to the floor.  She crawled over the bed, slid her arms around his waist - 

Then shot straight up when he fell to the floor.

Akane groaned.  Just because she'd even been clumsy in bed when they'd first...

That's when she noticed what he was doing.  He was quivering slightly, as though having a seizure of some type; his eyes rolled up into the back of his head, and his tongue darted to and fro.  

This was bad.  This was very bad.

She ran to the computer in a flash; she didn't know what was going on, but anything that could do that to Ranma had to be serious.

***

Cancer.

Her arm gripped Ranma's reflexively.  To her surprise, he made no reaction; he simply stood there.

"What about... Ranma's other form?"

The doctor - a thin, balding man with a crooked nose - pushed up his glasses with a finger.  "Both forms have it.  Worse, it's metastasized; surgery alone isn't going to do it, and I worry that even a laser bombardment combined with chemo won't kill it all."  He shook his head.  "Personally, I'm surprised you've lived this long, Mr. Saotome.  Most people in your position would be dead by now."

"I... I was unusually healthy," Ranma whispered.

The doctor nodded.  "Of course."  He handed them a data disc.  "Read over the information this weekend.  I've taken the liberty of scheduling the first chemo treatment on Monday; I normally wouldn't be in such a rush, but this is the only way we're going to beat this thing."  His eyes turned toward Ranma.  "Ranma, you have to make a decision.  The odds aren't good.  But... of the cancer patients I've known, the ones who made it through simply wanted to live more.  You have to decide to live, to fight this with everything you have, or the best medicines in the world aren't going to do much good.  Understand?"

She looked up in his eyes, and saw something she hadn't expected - amusement.  "Oh, yeah, Doc.  I understand all too well."  Despite herself, Akane couldn't help but smile.  Ranma had already faced death on several occasions; somehow, facing it here didn't matter so much.  Still... something nagged at her about all of this.

The doctor, at least, took it as a good sign.  "Good.  I'll expect to see you here on Monday morning."

She watched him get up and walk out; only the smallest tremor went through his muscles at the movement.  She really should have seen this before; Ranma Saotome simply wasn't mortal, and only something of critical danger could keep him from perfect motion.  "So.  What are you thinking?"

He walked out the door and stared out at the busy street.  "I... I think I need to meditate, Akane.  This may take some time."

Akane nodded.  No doubt, he needed to gather his strength for the coming battle.  Sighing, she grabbed a hold of his hand, and rubbed her fingers against his.

Ranma Saotome didn't lose.  Cologne, Pantyhose, Herb, Saffron... cancer would only be the latest in a long line of victories.  He'd get through this; he always did.

So why was she so worried?

***

His eyes opened, and she knew something was wrong.  "Ranma?"

He looked at her, and the peace in his gaze took on the slightest shade of sorrow.  "I'm sorry, Akane."

"Sorry?"  She gulped.  "For what?"

He let out a deep sigh.  "I'd ignored this for too long.  I always thought it would get better whenever I felt it.  Now..."

Her gaze burned into his.  "What do you mean, Ranma?  We can beat this thing!  It's just like beating all the other enemies we've faced over the years.  We take it on full-force, don't give up, and hold on until it finally goes away."

Ranma looked at her for a moment, then wrapped her arms around his.  She felt the touch of hot tears against her neck.  

"Akane, it's gone too far.  It's... it's gotten too much of me.  I... I'm sorry."

No.

No, this...

She shoved him roughly away, a glint of fury in her eyes.  "No, it hasn't, Ranma!  You know what modern medicine can do!  We can beat this!"  The anger started to fade, though she wanted to keep it; the tears of sorrow began to take its place.  "Please, Ranma... I..."

He just looked at her, his face completely neutral, though the pain in his eyes was evident.  "Love... you don't know how much I wish I could.  I want to stay here with you forever, to watch our grandchildren grow up, to..."  A quiet sigh escaped his lips; he looked as though he wished to say more, but didn't.

Akane wrapped her arms around herself.  "Are... are you sure it has to be this way?"

Ranma nodded slowly.

She forced air through the sobs that tore through her lungs.  "O... Okay."  She walked over to him, and found herself entangled in his arms.  "I... I love you."

He managed a weak smile.  "I love you too."  She could feel the ragged breath inside him.  "For all time."

***

He wasn't getting any better.

He'd lost thirty pounds in the past month; clothes that he'd worn proudly once now draped over him like a tent.  His eyes had sunk in, reminding her of Gosunkugi, a further sign of his descent to mortality.  Food was difficult to keep down; his stamina had almost gone.  

He was wasting away, and there wasn't anything he could do about it.

Still, he knew, and wasn't backing away.  They'd talked a lot lately, about the immediate future, about certain items of his, even about what it's like on the other side.  Every word came easily, without reservation - and every word came with love.  She wondered how he could possibly be so calm in the face of it all...

Then again, she would know - one day.  Mother had worn that face in the last days of her life; so had Father when his time had come.  They just knew how to die.  Weren't they afraid of dying?  Isn't that what people do with death - run away from it as much as possible?  Then why did... why did the people she loved feel so comfortable with it?

"R... Ranma?"

"Yes?"  Even his voice had wasted away, the clear-bell chime of it ground to gravel.  

"Do you want to leave me?"  There.  She'd asked it.

Ranma took a deep breath.  "Love, nobody wants to leave.  But... nobody should be terrified of it, either.  It happens; one day it comes, and that's it."  He shrugged.  "You... know what I've been doing lately, right?"

Akane nodded.  "I... I guess I would if I were in your position.  I mean, if I were... I would want to get all my affairs in order."  She swallowed.  "It just seems so... grisly."  

The chuckle Ranma gave she filed away; she found herself storing memories lately.  "Well, that's one way of looking at it.  I guess... I guess I want to leave the world without a mess.  I've done a lot of things in my life I'm not proud of; I just want to make it a little better before it's done."

She looked at him carefully.  There was something in his face, something she couldn't read.  "Are you afraid?"

Ranma sighed gently.  "Yes.  But... I'm not as scared as I thought I'd be.  It's death; it happens to all of us eventually.  It's my time."

"I wish it wasn't your time," Akane grumbled under her breath.  

Ranma had picked up the words.  "Akane... So do I.  But... This is the path I must travel."  He looked down.  "The next great challenge.  I don't want it; most people don't.  But... it's calling me."

Akane bit her lip.  "But it... I don't want you to go."

The beatific smile came back to his face.  "I'll never leave you, Akane.  I promise."

***

The valley stretched out before her, a pristine land almost untouched by the scar of technology, even as the warning of full invasion could be seen in the distance.  Mountains rose in the distance, jagged peaks designed for a bird's eyrie rather than a human's home.  Electric wires stretched down to a pre-fabricated hut, a place that almost pleaded not to intrude.  Perhaps most importantly, she could feel the energy in the wind, the chaos that had touched her husband and made their lives both better and worse.

Akane knew why he'd wanted to come here.  He wasn't going to be around much longer, maybe a week or two, and he wanted to say goodbye to old friends.  In a way, this was an old friend - the one he saw in every mirror after a rainstorm.  

"I'm surprised it's still here," he whispered, his bony hands gripping tightly to his cane.  "The springs, the mountain... I guess some things never change."  

She raised an eyebrow.  "Well, if you were going to start a business, would you want some cursed springs nearby?"

His mouth twisted for a moment before bursting out in laughter.  "Well, a slaughterhouse would do well here... so would a matchmaking service, for that matter."  He gave a wicked look her direction.  "Hey, you think we should start bottling and selling Jusenkyo water?  'Try new Jusenkyo brand spring water!  A whole new life in every bottle!'"  His spiel ended in a raspy cough; Akane cringed, then chuckled despite herself.

"That's horrible, Ranma."

Ranma's laughter sobered, and he shook his head.  "No... no, it's not.  What happened here... the curse I got... that was the third-best thing that ever happened to me."  He nodded to himself, as though coming to the conclusions for the first time.  "I... I may not have liked being a girl, especially at first.  It... it felt wrong, like it had taken something away.  But... it did give me some things in return."  He bit his lip.  "You see... looking back on it, it was what she gave me that helped me love you.  She... helped me to understand you, once I started allowing myself to listen.  And you... you and Kaori... you two are the best two things that ever happened to me."

She reached a hand out to him, and grabbed his arm.  "Ranma... are you all right?"  

Ranma looked down, tears in his eyes.  "Yeah."  His eyes turned back to hers.  "Are you?"

She looked into his gaze.  The thought of losing him terrified her; the concept of a lonely bed  and an empty place at the table had become so foreign to her that she couldn't even imagine it.  And, yet...

"Yeah, Ranma.  I'm fine."  She squeezed him in the arm, and started to lead him down the slope toward the valley entrance.  

"R... Ranma?"

"Hmmm?"

She let out a deep breath.  "What do you think's going to be there... after..."

His left hand gripped around his cane, and his right arm around Akane; his legs had nearly given out beneath him.  "I don't know.  I've done a lot of reading about it over the past few weeks; none of them seem to get what I feel, though."

Akane tilted her head to the side.  "What do you feel?"

Ranma's eyes took on a distant gaze.  "I guess... peace.  Knowing what's really important - us, Kaori and Waki, Mom and Dad, our friends - and not worrying about anything else."  He let out a long sigh.  "I... I don't mean to hurt you, Akane, but in some ways it'll be a relief when it's all done."

Her heart froze at the words.  "It hurts that bad?"

He nodded.  "Worse."  He let out a ragged breath.  "But... having you here... it makes it worth it."  He gave a smile, a cocky grin she hadn't seen enough of lately.  "More than worth it."

Akane didn't know what to say about that.  She just led him on to the guide's hut, for one last meeting with the chaos that had formed him.

***

Kaori left the room, drowning in tears; Waki simply held her, the stoic Kunou honor cracking slightly in his grimace.  

It was her turn, now.  She wiped the tears from her own eyes and entered the room, shutting the door behind her.

The first sound was a raspy breath; it had come to the point where even breathing came with difficulty.  His eyes were closed, but he still lived; he could see the tension in his face as he held back the pain.  Her eyes focused on the movement of his chest as she sat next to him.

"R... Ranma?"

His eyes opened; for a second, the roguish smile she loved had come back.  "Hey, you uncute tomboy."  He raised a hand from the bed to grasp hers; she met him halfway.  "Are you doing all right?"

"N - no," she stammered.  

He nodded thoughtfully.  "I... sorry about all this.  Would... would have liked to stay alive longer... but..."

"Why?  We... we deserve more than this!  How many lives have we saved over the years?  How often have we come to the defense of others?"  She tried to will the words back, but couldn't.  She was selfish; didn't they deserve more than this?

His smile faltered, but held on.  "Death... life... none are fair."

She nodded at that, though she didn't want to.  "Can't... can't we have one more day?  One more time in the sun?"

His eyes narrowed; his grin became positively saintly.  "Go to the Hourai cliffs, Akane, and feel the cool breeze in the autumn.  Remember that beach we played at when we were teenagers?  Go there if it's still open; catch the sand in your toes, and battle the surf."  A sickening cough followed; a trickle of blood came up with it.  "Go... go to the roof, and look up at the moonlight.  I'll be there with you."  The smile faltered.  "I'll always be there."

"But... but..."

He shook his head.  "Akane, you... I could never leave.  You *are* me; heart, mind, soul... if we aren't one, then I can't think of us as two.  I'l be with you."  He tried to move his face upward, clearly for a kiss.  

She could taste the metallic tang of blood in his mouth; she didn't care, just as long as she tasted him one more time.  She shut her eyes as she eased his head down onto the pillow, then forced them back open; she couldn't afford to close her eyes.

The breath was fading; she had to say it.  "I... I love you, Ranma."

He smiled, and nodded.  "Lo... love you, too."  The grip on her hand began to fade.  "Love.... ever..."

***

To say that Saotome Ranma had touched people's lives was an understatement.

Akane waited through the reception line as people offered their condolences.  Some, like Ryouga and Akari, had been major figures in their lives; others had simply been touched by Ranma's life at one moment or another, and changed forever as a result.  Ranma had that power, she knew; after all, he remembered when he'd first used it on her.

He'd been a force of nature.  He'd been an incredible father, and a good mother besides.  His skill with the art was fantastic; his skill with his soul was beyond that.  He'd been a good human being, the sort of person gifted and cursed by the heavens - and who had met the challenges those deities had offered.  The lives of so many had been touched in his life, so the multitudes had come to give thanks for his life at its passing.  

She wasn't fazed by it.  She knew the sort of man Ranma was, and she could take comfort in the fruits of his work.  Light had beget light, and spread far beyond Ranma's own life to the community at large.  Though the loss would be felt for years to come, the loss was not total; the echoes he left would continue long after his death.  Indeed, she could see the goodness Ranma had sown in these people's lives; this event was not something to mourn, but to cherish.

She reached and grasped her shoulder with her right hand.

No, she thought; there was no need for mourning at all.

********************************

Hey, everyone.

This is what happens when a 'serious' fanfic writer tries his hand at WAFF.  Scary, ne?  This is also what happens when your muse decides to come back from her vacation in Tahiti - an even scarier concept, if you ask me.  

Thanks to ami for making the little suggestion that led to this experiment; while I don't plan on carrying through with her idea, I do like what came about here.  Also thanks to the pre-readers who have helped this along: Richard, Debbie, Doug, Sean, Zen, and Bast.  

Nicholas Leifker
nightelf@thekeep.org
http://www.thekeep.org/~nightelf/fanfic
April 24, 2002






























































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