Disclaimer: All the characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and other
respective companies and I am in no way making any profit from this story.
This is just for my personal enjoyment and for the enjoyment of those who
may read this....aw crap, it doesn't matter, does it? ALL fanfic authors
are being bad---very, very, bad! Thank goodness Rumiko Takahashi has a kind
soul...either that or she's too busy swimming in all that money to really
pay attention ^_~.
Rated: PG-13 for a little swearing and other PG-13 activity.
Email me with C&C: simplyshy@hotmail.com
---------------------------------------- Truth Hurts: A Ryoga and Ukyo Side Story By Latin Usako ----------------------------------------
Making okonomiyaki, _good_ okonomiyaki, was not as easy as one would think. First, there was the matter of preparing the batter so that its consistency was neither too watery nor too thick. Temperature was also of the essence because if it was too high then that meant one would be forced to feed others a blackened mass but if it was too low then one would be left with a soggy and rather unappetizing concoction.
For Ukyo Kuonji, the process was something that had to be mastered and, as such, required great skill and concentration. Not that she had reason to complain, of course. After all, she had been making okonomiyaki ever since the tender age of six---an age when most of her peers were playing with dolls--- and could practically make them in her sleep. Besides, she found the whole process quite cathartic as it helped to calm her nerves whenever she was worried, stressed out, sad and, in rare cases, just plain pissed off.
As Ukyo moved about the small establishment that she had put her whole heart and soul into creating, back when said heart and soul had been filled with bitter rage, she found herself thinking about the one problem in her otherwise satisfying life.
Thinking about her childhood always brought back memories of that wonderful day in which he had met her best friend, Ranma Saotome. She had been a little girl with bright eyes and secret hopes and dreams that had yet to be shattered by the senseless cruelty that God often dishes out to unsuspecting mortals.
They were alike, she and Ranma, although it had taken her years to realize it. Both had possessed the innocence and purity privy only to children who have not yet been exposed to the harsh realities of life. Both had been betrayed by their fathers---she because her friendship with Ranma had been reduced to nothing more than a broken promise and a stolen okonomiyaki cart, and he because his father had, inadvertently, made him the cause of his only friend's pain and suffering.
Back then, Ranma had been such a gentle and kind little boy who had offered his friendship because it was as natural to him as breathing. She herself had been naive and trusting and thus had accepted that friendship without doubt or hesitation because these emotions were as unfamiliar to her as the exotic places Ranma told her he had visited before stopping in her small town.
He had seen waterfalls, volcanoes, and mountain-tops while her whole life had been centered around her father's okonomiyaki cart. For Ukyo, that cart had been more than just an economic resource---it had represented home, comfort, love, pride and family honor. Then again, that okonomiyaki cart had also been in her family for generations.
She had been stripped of everything the day that Genma Saotome and his son had left her behind in tears wondering why she was so unworthy that Ranma would choose okonomiyaki over her.
Although years had passed and she finally had Ranma in her life again, thinking about that fateful day always made her heart ache and her eyes tear up. Some say that there are wounds that cut so deeply that they never heal completely and she guessed that this was just one example.
Ukyo stared down at the spotless countertop she had been wiping for the past five minutes and wondered why things changed so drastically and, come to think of it, why they had to change at all. She saw her image reflected on the sparkling surface and wondered why she hadn't noticed that her eyes had grown a bit dull and that now she rarely wore a smile on her face, at least not one that she could have called genuine.
Her thoughts were unceremoniously interrupted by the loud ringing of the bell that hung just above the restaurant door's entrance. She raised her head to greet the customer only to find that it was not a stranger who had entered but rather a weary guy with a familiar yellow bandana on his head.
"Well, hello, Sug---."
The greeting died in her throat as she took in the Lost Boy's countenance.
If she had been in any mood to make jokes she might just have told him that he looked as if he'd just lost his best friend or, hell, even his puppy.
Instead, she placed a plate with piping hot okonomiyaki slices on the counter and waited patiently for her friend to make his way to the counter. Hopefully, whatever was bothering was nothing that good food and pleasant company couldn't fix.
If there was anything that Ukyo had learned from years of being everyone's shoulder to lean/cry/complain/sigh on it was that comfort did not always mean handing out pearls of wisdom. Sometimes, a comforting presence coupled with peaceful silence was enough to calm even the most troubled person.
So, she watched in silence as Ryoga sat down on a stool so he was sitting across from her, placed his elbows on the counter, a hand on either side of his head, and gave what Ukyo could only describe as the most pathetic, despairing sigh she had ever heard.
Then again, silence was highly overrated. Besides, she wasn't above prodding him for information if it would help him get rid of whatever problem was causing him such distress.
"C'mon, Sugar. Aren't you gonna at least say hi to a lady? What, did we sleep together last night or something? If we did, I wish I could at least _remember_ the occasion."
She winked at him just for good measure.
Ryoga merely responded by letting his head drop on the counter-top.
Ukyo was, to say the least, a bit startled at his reaction. Sure, she had been witness to one or two of Ryoga's bouts of depression but nothing as serious as this. His cheeks should have at least been burning in embarrassment at the joke she'd made about them sleeping together and she hadn't even been graced with a weak blush.
Then again, she'd been unable to see any expression at all considering he had his face buried in his arms like some ostrich with its head in the sand. This was obviously not the regular old "Ranma's the bane of my existence" situation she was used to seeing.
For a moment, Ukyo wondered if maybe Ryoga hadn't gone off and done something stupid. She knew he wasn't a violent guy but, then again, how many times hadn't she heard him tell, no _order_, Ranma to die? She'd always taken it as a joke, or at most a weak threat but maybe Ranma had pissed the Lost Boy off one too many times.
"Ryoga, I'm really worried now. What's wrong? Is there something that I can help you with?"
Although Ukyo tried her best to keep her composure, she wasn't able to keep her voice from trembling. Ryoga was acting strangely, even for him and why the hell didn't he speak to her or at least look at her?
She was just about to reach for the giant spatula strapped to her back so she could coerce him into speaking when Ryoga finally decided to raise his head, albeit slowly and the look on his face was completely and utterly heartbreaking.
The man before her was not the man she knew could break boulders with a single finger nor was it someone who could destroy half a block with one of his damn depression blasts. The person sitting before her had been reduced to a mere boy whose eyes were sparkling with unshed tears and whose face was contorted into such a hopeless expression that she almost wondered if she shouldn't do him a favor and kill him off.
Ukyo did not know much about men which, she thought, was quite understandable given that most of the men in her life either turned into girls, dressed like them or were too nutty to really give her insight into the normal male psyche. And her years as a cross-dresser had done nothing save keep her safe from lechers.
Even then, the only thing she knew for certain was that men did not cry or, at least did not do so in front of others. ESPECIALLY not in front of women.
The gears in her mind began to spin furiously and, as she observed the boy in front of her, she finally remembered that there was only one thing that would reduce any man to tears. It was that dreaded, terrifying, painful thing called love and not the romantic type depicted in those stupid girly manga she'd happened to glance at whenever she passed by the magazine stand on her way to the local market.
No, it was definitely that dagger-in-the-heart-utterly-disappointing- heart-wrenching type of love that someone who had lost the object of his affections suffered.
Here, sitting before her, was proof that love was definitely a bitch.
At that moment, she wished she could turn back time so that Ryoga would come in spouting off his usual spiel about how Ranma was the bane of his existence and how one of these days he'd really knock him but good for hurting the sweet Akane Tendo because if he did that then she could easily plaster on one of her "every grey cloud has a silver lining" smiles and feed and comfort him.
After all, feeding and comforting was one of the things Ukyo Kuonji did exceptionally well, besides cooking. She was the young mother hen fussing over her chicks and offering words of comfort to any poor soul who happened to sit at her counter.
This silent, depressed and weary boy in front of her brought heart- ache and despair with him and made it particularly difficult to pretend that all was right with the world. Even more disconcerting was the thought that, soon, she herself would have reason to share those same unpleasant emotions.
Ukyo suddenly found that she did not want to hear what Ryoga had to say because she had a sinking feeling that whatever it was it would most likely break the illusion she had so carefully constructed in her mind.
That illusion allowed her to keep that hope alive that one day Ranma would be hers and they would have children running around the restaurant and, the hell with it, Akane Tendo would be their godmother and there would be no more jealousy, anger, or resentment in her heart.
For the first time in her life, Ukyo Kuonji felt like turning her back on someone if only so that she could slam the door in reality's face.
Once she saw the first tears fall down his face, she found that she could not stand to meet his gaze. Instead, she took the plate she had offered him away and decided that the counter just was not as sparkling clean as she had thought it was and thus began wiping away at it as if her very life depended on it.
"I told Ak---her the truth and...she...she probably hates me now and, gods, Ukyo I...I lost."
Her arm stopped its frantic circular motions and she stood there before him, afraid to utter a single word because she could almost see her illusions dissipate into nothingness.
"She l-l-oves him, you know, and...you just don't know what I woulda...gods, I woulda given ANYTHING to have her love me like that."
Ukyo took one the dirty glass that had been sitting on the counter and held it in her trembling hand. She turned so that her back was to Ryoga and began to clean the glass with her apron. So Akane Tendo loved Ranma Saotome. How peachy keen that was.
The irony of the situation suddenly hit her and she would have found it laughable really if she hadn't been too busy trying to see through her tears.
How many times hadn't she heard Akane say that she hated Ranma or that he didn't care if the Chinese bimbo glomped him and how many times hadn't she declared that the others could have him because, after all, _she_ didn't give a damn? They were always bickering and fighting and trying hard to hide the fact they were jealous and here Ryoga was telling her that Akane was in love with Ranma.
Well, _of course_ Akane would fall in love with her Ranchan because life had always been unbearably cruel and that tomboy had always been so close to him, they _lived_ with each other and hadn't she read somewhere that proximity automatically led to love?
But what did any of that matter? Hadn't she heard her Ranchan, the handsome guy with the grey-blue eyes who made her feel warm and light- headed, say time and time again that Akane was a violent, sexless tomboy? Didn't Akane almost seem to relish kicking Ranma into lower earth orbit and, come to think of it, when had she ever said a kind word to him?
No. It did not matter that Akane loved Ranma because there was such a thing as love not returned. Akane did not know _how_ to love Ranma and so there was no way in hell that he felt anything for her. So long as that was true there was still some hope.
So, she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and found the strength to plaster on one of her trademark smiles before turning back to Ryoga.
"Don't look so down, hon and _don't_ give up so easily. Hey, so you made a couple of mistakes. Big deal. You're a great guy and, who knows? Maybe---if Akane got to know you a litte better...well, haven't you heard that every grey cloud has a silver lining?"
The look she received was not the one that she had been expecting. Ryoga did not look at her with gratitude and she did not see newfound hope in his eyes. No, Ryoga's lips were pressed together in a grim line and in his eyes she saw a mixture of regret, sorrow and, worst of all, pity---for _her_.
"Ukyo..."
She understood what the tone in his voice meant as he said her name and suddenly, Ukyo found that she was once again that same disillusioned six-year-old with the tear-stained face and the broken heart who could only wonder what she could have done to make Ranma Saotome pick her.
"I've seen the way he looks at her..."
Was it, she wondered, with the same gentle look of devotion that she'd always dreamed he would send her way?
"I heard him, when she almost died on him and he---he _cried_..."
Had he, she mused, cried the same tears of desperation she had when he'd abandoned her as if she were some old, torn toy he'd played with one too many times?
"_Everyone_ can see it but...those two---they're just too damn stubborn and full of pride to, to admit it yet."
So. Pride was the only thing standing in the way of their happiness? Well, what did it matter that good ol' Ucchan was in love with Ranma Saotome too because, after all, she was _only_ his best friend and what did friendship have to do with love?
If she thought that having been overlooked for an okonomiyaki cart was painful then the joke was on her because being overlooked for a violent, inconsiderate tomboy who couldn't cook to save her life was ten times worse.
Oh well, all was fair and love and war and it was better to be a good sport, right?
Besides, most people would probably whisper that Ukyo was _only_ infatuated with Ranma. Yes, having waited for him and _only_ him for ten years, SAVING herself for him for a decade, was all due to the infatuation she felt for Ranma Saotome. Putting on a show that she hated him when, in reality, she missed him so terribly that she had to keep his memory locked away in the furthest corners of her mind so her heart wouldn't ache each and every time she thought about him...that was _merely_ infatuation.
All. Of. It.
Ukyo balled her hand into a fist, not caring that, by doing so, she was crushing the glass that she still held in her hand. She ignored, or did not feel, the pain of the shards of glass cutting into her palm and almost welcomed the warm sensation as blood began trickling from her wounds onto her palm.
"Ukyo---I'm s-sorry."
His words of consolation only served to dash any hopes she might have still harbored about getting her Ranchan to love her. In Ryoga's eyes, she- --_they_ had already lost. The only thing left for her to do was to pick up the pieces of her battered hear and move on.
Yeah, she should definitely just get over it. After all, hadn't she spent most of her life without having Ranma in her life? Surely she could survive this little stumbling block in her life because, after all, wasn't she Ukyo Kuonji the chef extraordinaire with the killer spatulas? Besides, guys were a dime a dozen so it should be quite easy to piece her heart back together and force it to forget him and find someone else to love.
But this was something that Ukyo did not have the will or courage to do at the moment. She might very well feel differently in the morning but, for today at least, she would not pick those pieces up.
Instead, she merely let the grief wash over her as she began to sob uncontrollably both for the child of so long ago and for the disillusioned woman she had become.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The moment Ryouga Hibiki had stepped outside the Tendo Dojo it had suddenly dawned on him that he would never again see Akane Tendo's sweet face nor would he ever get the chance to see if he could have won her love or, at the very least, her friendship.
Although it was a bit unreasonable of him to want it, he wished badly that he had at least had the chance to ask her out on a real date. Ranma had argued many a time that Ryoga had no idea about Akane, that she was a complete stranger to him and that he knew nothing about her.
But he was wrong. For as little as Ryoga may have known about her, he at least knew that she had a kind heart and a gentle disposition and that she was a kindred spirit.
She would not have turned him down, he knew that now.
In retrospect, his hope that she would someday return the love he felt for her may have been futile, but he did not regret having loved her. Rather, he regretted having been such a coward by not giving himself a chance to act on that love. In his mind, he saw that he had been that bumbling, stuttering fool too often and had thus wasted valuable time and the various opportunities life had given him.
And yet to add insult to injury, Ranma was doing the very same thing by not admitting to himself that he was deeply in love with that girl even though he had already won her heart.
For Ryoga, seeing Ranma ignore the treasure he had within reach was like a slap in the face. Fate had been cruel enough already by giving Ranma a gift he was so obviously undeserving of, but seeing such a gift go to waste was a bit too much to bear.
That was why he had spent the past couple of hours wondering around Nerima, not caring where his horrible sense of direction took him as long as it was somewhere far away from the girl he'd hurt and betrayed and the guy who'd made his life so miserable.
He had crossed streets he vaguely recognized and houses filled with families he did not know. Although Ryouga felt that this was one of the worst days of his life the ironic thing was that not a cloud was in the sky, the sun was out, and there were a couple of birds that actually had the audicity to break into song. Ryoga had wished that he'd had his slingshot with him just so he could silence the cheery chirps that seemed to mock him.
His mood did not improve any even as the sun had begun its descent in the horizon and an evening chill set in. He silently prayed that his feet and bad sense of direction would take him somewhere warm and far, far away.
Much to his dismay, that horrible sense of direction had decided that today was not the day to travel to foreign lands and thus, it had taken him only a couple of blocks from the Tendo dojo and into Ucchan's Okonomiyaki Restaurant.
He had entered the restaurant with his usual accessories: the trusty umbrella that would keep him from becoming the next bacon special, the map that would have saved him many a headache if had he only known how to read it, and a backpack where he kept all his worldly belongings, which were not many.
Now that he found himself sitting next to a sobbing Ukyo he wondered what on earth had compelled him to stumble through those doors in the first place. He almost hated himself for having come to ruin the young girl's hopes. And yet, something told him that knowing the truth, as much as it hurt, was infinitely better than living in denial.
As awkward as the moment was, it was also deeply comforting because this brown-haired girl with the sad eyes was someone who understood that one could love without being _in_ love with someone.
He and Ukyo had loved two people with all they had in hopes that their love would someday be returned. They had seen only the good in the objects of their affections and yet, as little as Ryoga knew about love, he knew that this in and of itself was a flawed love and, as such, he also knew that they would both survive this whole ordeal. It might take time and effort, but they _would_ live to see the day when the pain wouldn't be so unbearable.
As he reached up with one hand to take off the yellow bandana that had always branded him as a deceitful person, he wondered if they would have been willing to take a chance on falling in love, flaws and all.
Ryoga stuffed the bandana in his pocket and then placed his arms around the okonomiyaki chef and began to gently stroke her hair. She stiffened in his arms for a moment and then relaxed and her sobs soon quieted down so that she was shedding silent tears. They sat there in companionate silence, two people who had, like many others, suffered the "pangs of despised love"*.
The restaurant had, he noticed, been empty even before his arrival and he wondered what time Ukyo usually closed for the day. He did not need to wonder long as the chef suddenly pulled away, stood up and walked to the door, a set of keys already in her hands. It was then that he noticed that her hand was bleeding.
"Ukyo...your hand."
She merely looked down at said hand and shrugged.
"Don't worry, it's nothing a little anticeptic and a couple of bandages won't cure, sugar."
He was beside her in an instant, her palm in his hands. Before she had a chance to protest, he gently rested her palm in one hand and with the other, he reached into his pocket to reach for the yellow bandana he'd taken off his head only moments before.
"First thing's first. Where's that antiseptic?"
Ukyo nodded and made her way back to the counter to get it where it was placed in one of the drawers. Ryoga did not question its location, since he knew that many a fight had taken place in and outside of this very restaurant so it was only prudent that the antiseptic remain within reach at all times.
They sat back down on the stools and Ryoga proceeded to clean her wounds with such care that any passerby might have commented how sweet it was that chivalry was not dead. Afterwards, Ryoga took the bandana and wrapped it around her hand, thinking how fitting it was that the same bandana that he had worn while carrying out his deceit was now being used to heal wounds.
Ryoga suddenly remembered that it had grown dark outside and, as such, he had probably already outworn his welcome.
"I probably should get going."
Ukyo suddenly bolted from the stool, ran back into the kitchen and emerged with about four bottles of sake in her hand. She wore a rather strained smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes and when she spoke, he immediately recognized the false cheer.
"You're not telling me that you're leaving a girl to drink all by her lonesome, are you sugar?"
Ryoga saw the offer for what it was: a means of escaping reality once more. He actually pitied the awkwardly cheerful girl before him if only because he could see that putting on this act was strenuous for her. He found that he did not have the heart to deny her the request. Besides, it would help both to forget, if only for a few short moments, that they had lost the most important battle of their lives.
"N-no, not at all. I just thought-"
"Well, it's settled then."
Ukyo filled two cups with sake and offered one to her companion.
"Cheers," she offered, and downed the whole cup.
"Cheers," he replied, as he raised the cup of sake to his lips, finding comfort in the way the warm liquid burned in the back of his throat.
"How about we play a drinking game, sugar? You tell me why Ranma's no good for me, take a drink, and I tell you why you're better off without the tomboy and I take a drink. First one to fall over in a drunken stupor loses."
Ryoga suddenly wished he had taken his leave as he'd intended.
"C'mon, honey be a man and play the game."
Why oh why, he wondered, must this woman be such a masochist? Nonetheless, he agreed because, after all, how could he possibly turn down an offer to push Ranma off the pedestal she'd placed him on and, besides, as unreasonable as it was, he was pissed off at Ranma for taking his happiness away.
"All right, I'm game. First reason, he's a sex-changing freak and you'd have to be bi-sexual to enjoy sex with him."
Ryoga swallowed the sake while Ukyo merely glared at him.
"I could have sex with him only in his male form but, nice try. Now my turn."
She picked the cup of sake up with her good hand.
"First reason, she's a violent woman who'd send you to the hospital every time she went on one of her jealous rampages AND you'd end up dirt poor with all the medical bills that would pile up."
She downed the sake and Ryoga knew that the game was about to get ugly.
"I don't bruise easily and, there's always health insurance."
Ryoga gripped the cup of sake in his hands before moving on.
"Second reason, he's an arrogant bastard who doesn't care about anyone but himself and you'd probably end up alone with a house full of kids while he's off trying to find a cure for his curse."
Ryoga tried not to think about the way that Ukyo's jaw was twitching in anger and downed his cup.
"I've always wanted kids and my trusty spatula says he wouldn't go _anywhere_ without me."
Ukyo filled another cup to the brim.
"Third reason, her cooking's toxic and you'd never make it through the celebratory dinner she'd prepare for you on your honeymoon night."
This game, Ryoga decided, was definitely taking a turn for the worst.
"I'm packing a dinner from reception leftovers and she wouldn't _have_ to cook. I'd hire a maid."
Ryoga ignored the wave of dizziness that threatened to overpower him before muttering the next reason.
"He still sees you as his childhood friend, Kuonji, not as the woman you've become."
He drank the sake and didn't dare look up to see the expression on Ukyo's face.
"She sees you as the nice Lost Boy and...nothing more."
There was no malice in her voice but, nonetheless, the statement stung his pride.
He reciprocated in kind.
"He chose okonomiyaki over you."
Ryoga was not too drunk to know, even before the last word was out of his mouth, that he had gone too far.
He mentally retraced his steps back out the restaurant, down the street, past the Tendo Dojo and willed his mind to take him back to those years of solitude before he'd ever met Ranma Saotome. The vision in his mind saw him forget the day Ranma'd ever taken the last piece of bread. That was the moment that had started it all. If he had just refused to let pride get the better of him, he would have avoided all the tragedy he had suffered thereafter. He never would have followed Ranma, never would have met Akane, and he wouldn't be sitting there offending the woman beside him just because she'd spoken the truth.
There was no way to take back those words and he couldn't turn back time so he decided to do what he should have done so long ago: suffer the consequences like a man.
But not before grabbing a bottle of sake and drinking himself into oblivion.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Ukyo was seething with rage. How dare this stupid, cowardly Lost Boy use the most humiliating event of her life against her? Who the hell was he to even mention it when the girl he loved would probably choose her pet pig over him any day?
Didn't he know that her feminine pride had been wounded enough? Ranma had chosen okonomiyaki and Akane over her and, what the hell was WRONG with her? Was she that undesirable?
She wanted to knock this boy senseless because, even in her drunken stupor, she couldn't ignore all the insecurities that were invading her thoughts.
There were so many nights that she'd cried herself to sleep wondering why it was that Ranma always chose Akane over her.
Night after night she'd agonize over the possible reasons: she wasn't feminine enough, pretty enough, strong enough, desirable enough...and the list would go on and on.
He was sitting right next to him and she could have easily slapped him across the face, the gods knew she wanted to, and told him to get the hell out of her restaurant but he'd just downed a whole bottle of sake and he too looked tired and drunk as hell.
Besides, as much as it pained her to admit it, he had only spoken the truth. Ranma _had_ chosen okonomiyaki over her---but he had only been a six- year-old boy who had not known the implications of his choice. She could not hate that boy because it was that same six-year-old boy she remembered from her childhood who had been genuinely pleased to see her again, albeit in the form of a sixteen-year-old adolescent. Ukyo had seen him in Ranma's eyes.
She met Ryoga's gaze and knew that she could not hate Ranma as long as that six-year-old boy was still alive. And he _was_ alive because he had not been destroyed by Genma's stupidity or by the passage of time.
No, she would not hate him nor would she give in to the rage that was threatening to consume at the moment. Ukyo grabbed the last bottle of sake and emptied it of its contents. She would be angry, yes, because he still had a lot to answer to and she was certainly hurt and humiliated but she could never hate him.
"You're right. He did. And now it's time to move on."
Ukyo did not know whether it was due to the amount of sake she had consumed or maybe the fact that she was tired of feeling so damn vulnerable and weepy but she let go of all her inhibitions. She grabbed the ribbon that held her hair in place and let the soft brown waves fall to her shoulders.
Tonight, she wanted to feel gorgeaous and sexy and wanted and passionate and fuck romance because it was all about lust anyway, wasn't it? It didn't matter that she'd probably have a horrible hangover the next day or that her heart would suffer the moment she thought about or saw Ranma.
Gods, she wanted to forget _so_ badly because it was better to give into the primal urge that was growing within her and just forget. That's all she wanted at the moment.
So, much to Ryoga's surprise, she moved her stool closer to his and cupped his face in her hands. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to forget, at least for that moment, that she had ever loved Ranma Saotome _that_ way and just enjoy her first kiss.
She placed her lips on his, enjoying the sensation that shot through her body as he responded. She focused all her emotions on that one kiss as she took his lower lip between her own and opened her mouth in order to allow more intimacy between them. Her hands moved down and around his neck even as she felt his move down to her waist.
He caressed her lower back and she alternated between caressing his back, his shoulders and running her fingers through his hair. Their kiss suddenly became urgent and there was an unspoken understanding that they needed each other at that moment.
No promises were made and there were no thoughts of tomorrow because this was all about the here and now.
Ukyo was lifted from her stool so that she was straddling his hips. He placed soft kisses on her neck and she pressed her body closer to his.
Their breathing became more labored and, at that moment, Ukyo wanted nothing more than to rid herself of her restrictive clothing.
She put her hands underneath his shirt and placed them on his chest and touched the warm, taut skin. He, in turn moved his hands under her shirt and moved them up and own either side of her waist, and her skin felt as if it were on fire.
Then, his hands moved up and down her waist and she couldn't help the way her hips began to sway a little because she was just so caught up in the moment.
Ukyo decided that she was still sober enough to know her limits when she felt his hands moved to unhook her bra. She broke the kiss and Ryoga stopped, his hands still on her bra clasps, his eyes questioning her.
It would have been so easy to just grant him access to her---to get lost in the pleasant sensations that were now coursing through her body. At that moment, she was willing to do just about anything to push the sorrow and humiliation out of her mind even if that lasted only until the next morning.
The Lost Boy's eyes reflected that same hunger and desperation and she couldn't help but think that she could have easily fallen in love with this boy, if Ranma Saotome had never come into her life.
It was for that very reason that she decided she could not go any further. She just could not bear to have this moment reduced to nothing more than a tryst between two people who had succumbed to their drunken stupors.
So, it was with a heavy heart that Ukyo finally shook her head, no. She placed her head on his shoulders, and hugged him to her, hoping that he would not think her a tease for stopping.
She gave a sigh of relief when she felt his arms go around her shoulders in reassurance. At that moment, she was grateful to Ryoga Hibiki for making her feel like a woman worthy of being loved. This moment had almost erased the painful memories of her past.
Almost.
As it was, she resigned herself to listen to Ryoga's rhythmic breathing and thought it odd that it seemed to match her own. She settled herself into his lap, placed her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder.
Who would have ever thought, she wondered, that the Lost Boy would be the one to find her when she needed him most or that the okonomiyaki chef find her way onto his lap? She prayed that she'd find this whole experience amusing some day.
For now, it was better to focus on the fact that her face was too warm, her heart was beating ten times a minute and she was very sleepy. Her eyes seemed to close of their own volition and she was half asleep when she heard Ryoga's voice.
"I woulda chozen _you_."
Ukyo found that she did not know what to say to that so she opted to say nothing. Instead, she simply placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and burrowed her head into his shoulder all the while thinking that maybe, just maybe, life would soon give her the opportunity to experience a love that was not bitter with someone willing to share the wonders that that love had to offer.
And maybe, just maybe, this time she would not get left behind.
---------------------------------------------------------------------- ----- Author's Notes:
*This line is, of course, from Hamlet's famous "to be or not to be" monologue. It's one of my favorites.
First of all, I'd like to thank Nonsequitur for sending me the thought- provoking e-mail that inspired me to write the side story that I'd promised everyone a long time ago. Love is, indeed, the greatest paradox known to man: it is the most joyful emotion we can experience as well as the most painful. It cannot be defined concretely because it exists in many varying forms. The love each one of us experiences is unique to our own circumstances.
All I can say is this: Embrace it. Live it. Enjoy it. Be grateful for it.
I've read a couple of fics with this same concept: Ukyo finds out from Ryoga that her dreams and hopes are for naught and they share the pain that only those who experience unreciprocated love can understand. In those fics, they usually end up sleeping together and forming a bond that eases the pain of having lost their respective loves.
I don't quite agree with this. Sure, they'd probably feel empathy for each other and because misery loves company they might console each other until the wee hours of the morning but I think the disappointment of their failed attempt at love would be too fresh in their minds for them to be able to jump into another relationship, much less with each other.
I wanted the story to have elements in which they are shown to be compatible but thought it best to leave the romance for another time.
This story was all about getting them as drunk as sailors and a little bit frisky, but nothing more. ^_~.
No, seriously. Love is tricky and complicated as are human relationships but I tried my best to keep this as realistic as possible...although, I must admit that I might have gone over-board with the angst. Forgive me.
In any case, let me know what you think by leaving a review or by e-mailing me latin_usako@tokyo.com
Until next time, Latin Usako
Rated: PG-13 for a little swearing and other PG-13 activity.
Email me with C&C: simplyshy@hotmail.com
---------------------------------------- Truth Hurts: A Ryoga and Ukyo Side Story By Latin Usako ----------------------------------------
Making okonomiyaki, _good_ okonomiyaki, was not as easy as one would think. First, there was the matter of preparing the batter so that its consistency was neither too watery nor too thick. Temperature was also of the essence because if it was too high then that meant one would be forced to feed others a blackened mass but if it was too low then one would be left with a soggy and rather unappetizing concoction.
For Ukyo Kuonji, the process was something that had to be mastered and, as such, required great skill and concentration. Not that she had reason to complain, of course. After all, she had been making okonomiyaki ever since the tender age of six---an age when most of her peers were playing with dolls--- and could practically make them in her sleep. Besides, she found the whole process quite cathartic as it helped to calm her nerves whenever she was worried, stressed out, sad and, in rare cases, just plain pissed off.
As Ukyo moved about the small establishment that she had put her whole heart and soul into creating, back when said heart and soul had been filled with bitter rage, she found herself thinking about the one problem in her otherwise satisfying life.
Thinking about her childhood always brought back memories of that wonderful day in which he had met her best friend, Ranma Saotome. She had been a little girl with bright eyes and secret hopes and dreams that had yet to be shattered by the senseless cruelty that God often dishes out to unsuspecting mortals.
They were alike, she and Ranma, although it had taken her years to realize it. Both had possessed the innocence and purity privy only to children who have not yet been exposed to the harsh realities of life. Both had been betrayed by their fathers---she because her friendship with Ranma had been reduced to nothing more than a broken promise and a stolen okonomiyaki cart, and he because his father had, inadvertently, made him the cause of his only friend's pain and suffering.
Back then, Ranma had been such a gentle and kind little boy who had offered his friendship because it was as natural to him as breathing. She herself had been naive and trusting and thus had accepted that friendship without doubt or hesitation because these emotions were as unfamiliar to her as the exotic places Ranma told her he had visited before stopping in her small town.
He had seen waterfalls, volcanoes, and mountain-tops while her whole life had been centered around her father's okonomiyaki cart. For Ukyo, that cart had been more than just an economic resource---it had represented home, comfort, love, pride and family honor. Then again, that okonomiyaki cart had also been in her family for generations.
She had been stripped of everything the day that Genma Saotome and his son had left her behind in tears wondering why she was so unworthy that Ranma would choose okonomiyaki over her.
Although years had passed and she finally had Ranma in her life again, thinking about that fateful day always made her heart ache and her eyes tear up. Some say that there are wounds that cut so deeply that they never heal completely and she guessed that this was just one example.
Ukyo stared down at the spotless countertop she had been wiping for the past five minutes and wondered why things changed so drastically and, come to think of it, why they had to change at all. She saw her image reflected on the sparkling surface and wondered why she hadn't noticed that her eyes had grown a bit dull and that now she rarely wore a smile on her face, at least not one that she could have called genuine.
Her thoughts were unceremoniously interrupted by the loud ringing of the bell that hung just above the restaurant door's entrance. She raised her head to greet the customer only to find that it was not a stranger who had entered but rather a weary guy with a familiar yellow bandana on his head.
"Well, hello, Sug---."
The greeting died in her throat as she took in the Lost Boy's countenance.
If she had been in any mood to make jokes she might just have told him that he looked as if he'd just lost his best friend or, hell, even his puppy.
Instead, she placed a plate with piping hot okonomiyaki slices on the counter and waited patiently for her friend to make his way to the counter. Hopefully, whatever was bothering was nothing that good food and pleasant company couldn't fix.
If there was anything that Ukyo had learned from years of being everyone's shoulder to lean/cry/complain/sigh on it was that comfort did not always mean handing out pearls of wisdom. Sometimes, a comforting presence coupled with peaceful silence was enough to calm even the most troubled person.
So, she watched in silence as Ryoga sat down on a stool so he was sitting across from her, placed his elbows on the counter, a hand on either side of his head, and gave what Ukyo could only describe as the most pathetic, despairing sigh she had ever heard.
Then again, silence was highly overrated. Besides, she wasn't above prodding him for information if it would help him get rid of whatever problem was causing him such distress.
"C'mon, Sugar. Aren't you gonna at least say hi to a lady? What, did we sleep together last night or something? If we did, I wish I could at least _remember_ the occasion."
She winked at him just for good measure.
Ryoga merely responded by letting his head drop on the counter-top.
Ukyo was, to say the least, a bit startled at his reaction. Sure, she had been witness to one or two of Ryoga's bouts of depression but nothing as serious as this. His cheeks should have at least been burning in embarrassment at the joke she'd made about them sleeping together and she hadn't even been graced with a weak blush.
Then again, she'd been unable to see any expression at all considering he had his face buried in his arms like some ostrich with its head in the sand. This was obviously not the regular old "Ranma's the bane of my existence" situation she was used to seeing.
For a moment, Ukyo wondered if maybe Ryoga hadn't gone off and done something stupid. She knew he wasn't a violent guy but, then again, how many times hadn't she heard him tell, no _order_, Ranma to die? She'd always taken it as a joke, or at most a weak threat but maybe Ranma had pissed the Lost Boy off one too many times.
"Ryoga, I'm really worried now. What's wrong? Is there something that I can help you with?"
Although Ukyo tried her best to keep her composure, she wasn't able to keep her voice from trembling. Ryoga was acting strangely, even for him and why the hell didn't he speak to her or at least look at her?
She was just about to reach for the giant spatula strapped to her back so she could coerce him into speaking when Ryoga finally decided to raise his head, albeit slowly and the look on his face was completely and utterly heartbreaking.
The man before her was not the man she knew could break boulders with a single finger nor was it someone who could destroy half a block with one of his damn depression blasts. The person sitting before her had been reduced to a mere boy whose eyes were sparkling with unshed tears and whose face was contorted into such a hopeless expression that she almost wondered if she shouldn't do him a favor and kill him off.
Ukyo did not know much about men which, she thought, was quite understandable given that most of the men in her life either turned into girls, dressed like them or were too nutty to really give her insight into the normal male psyche. And her years as a cross-dresser had done nothing save keep her safe from lechers.
Even then, the only thing she knew for certain was that men did not cry or, at least did not do so in front of others. ESPECIALLY not in front of women.
The gears in her mind began to spin furiously and, as she observed the boy in front of her, she finally remembered that there was only one thing that would reduce any man to tears. It was that dreaded, terrifying, painful thing called love and not the romantic type depicted in those stupid girly manga she'd happened to glance at whenever she passed by the magazine stand on her way to the local market.
No, it was definitely that dagger-in-the-heart-utterly-disappointing- heart-wrenching type of love that someone who had lost the object of his affections suffered.
Here, sitting before her, was proof that love was definitely a bitch.
At that moment, she wished she could turn back time so that Ryoga would come in spouting off his usual spiel about how Ranma was the bane of his existence and how one of these days he'd really knock him but good for hurting the sweet Akane Tendo because if he did that then she could easily plaster on one of her "every grey cloud has a silver lining" smiles and feed and comfort him.
After all, feeding and comforting was one of the things Ukyo Kuonji did exceptionally well, besides cooking. She was the young mother hen fussing over her chicks and offering words of comfort to any poor soul who happened to sit at her counter.
This silent, depressed and weary boy in front of her brought heart- ache and despair with him and made it particularly difficult to pretend that all was right with the world. Even more disconcerting was the thought that, soon, she herself would have reason to share those same unpleasant emotions.
Ukyo suddenly found that she did not want to hear what Ryoga had to say because she had a sinking feeling that whatever it was it would most likely break the illusion she had so carefully constructed in her mind.
That illusion allowed her to keep that hope alive that one day Ranma would be hers and they would have children running around the restaurant and, the hell with it, Akane Tendo would be their godmother and there would be no more jealousy, anger, or resentment in her heart.
For the first time in her life, Ukyo Kuonji felt like turning her back on someone if only so that she could slam the door in reality's face.
Once she saw the first tears fall down his face, she found that she could not stand to meet his gaze. Instead, she took the plate she had offered him away and decided that the counter just was not as sparkling clean as she had thought it was and thus began wiping away at it as if her very life depended on it.
"I told Ak---her the truth and...she...she probably hates me now and, gods, Ukyo I...I lost."
Her arm stopped its frantic circular motions and she stood there before him, afraid to utter a single word because she could almost see her illusions dissipate into nothingness.
"She l-l-oves him, you know, and...you just don't know what I woulda...gods, I woulda given ANYTHING to have her love me like that."
Ukyo took one the dirty glass that had been sitting on the counter and held it in her trembling hand. She turned so that her back was to Ryoga and began to clean the glass with her apron. So Akane Tendo loved Ranma Saotome. How peachy keen that was.
The irony of the situation suddenly hit her and she would have found it laughable really if she hadn't been too busy trying to see through her tears.
How many times hadn't she heard Akane say that she hated Ranma or that he didn't care if the Chinese bimbo glomped him and how many times hadn't she declared that the others could have him because, after all, _she_ didn't give a damn? They were always bickering and fighting and trying hard to hide the fact they were jealous and here Ryoga was telling her that Akane was in love with Ranma.
Well, _of course_ Akane would fall in love with her Ranchan because life had always been unbearably cruel and that tomboy had always been so close to him, they _lived_ with each other and hadn't she read somewhere that proximity automatically led to love?
But what did any of that matter? Hadn't she heard her Ranchan, the handsome guy with the grey-blue eyes who made her feel warm and light- headed, say time and time again that Akane was a violent, sexless tomboy? Didn't Akane almost seem to relish kicking Ranma into lower earth orbit and, come to think of it, when had she ever said a kind word to him?
No. It did not matter that Akane loved Ranma because there was such a thing as love not returned. Akane did not know _how_ to love Ranma and so there was no way in hell that he felt anything for her. So long as that was true there was still some hope.
So, she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand and found the strength to plaster on one of her trademark smiles before turning back to Ryoga.
"Don't look so down, hon and _don't_ give up so easily. Hey, so you made a couple of mistakes. Big deal. You're a great guy and, who knows? Maybe---if Akane got to know you a litte better...well, haven't you heard that every grey cloud has a silver lining?"
The look she received was not the one that she had been expecting. Ryoga did not look at her with gratitude and she did not see newfound hope in his eyes. No, Ryoga's lips were pressed together in a grim line and in his eyes she saw a mixture of regret, sorrow and, worst of all, pity---for _her_.
"Ukyo..."
She understood what the tone in his voice meant as he said her name and suddenly, Ukyo found that she was once again that same disillusioned six-year-old with the tear-stained face and the broken heart who could only wonder what she could have done to make Ranma Saotome pick her.
"I've seen the way he looks at her..."
Was it, she wondered, with the same gentle look of devotion that she'd always dreamed he would send her way?
"I heard him, when she almost died on him and he---he _cried_..."
Had he, she mused, cried the same tears of desperation she had when he'd abandoned her as if she were some old, torn toy he'd played with one too many times?
"_Everyone_ can see it but...those two---they're just too damn stubborn and full of pride to, to admit it yet."
So. Pride was the only thing standing in the way of their happiness? Well, what did it matter that good ol' Ucchan was in love with Ranma Saotome too because, after all, she was _only_ his best friend and what did friendship have to do with love?
If she thought that having been overlooked for an okonomiyaki cart was painful then the joke was on her because being overlooked for a violent, inconsiderate tomboy who couldn't cook to save her life was ten times worse.
Oh well, all was fair and love and war and it was better to be a good sport, right?
Besides, most people would probably whisper that Ukyo was _only_ infatuated with Ranma. Yes, having waited for him and _only_ him for ten years, SAVING herself for him for a decade, was all due to the infatuation she felt for Ranma Saotome. Putting on a show that she hated him when, in reality, she missed him so terribly that she had to keep his memory locked away in the furthest corners of her mind so her heart wouldn't ache each and every time she thought about him...that was _merely_ infatuation.
All. Of. It.
Ukyo balled her hand into a fist, not caring that, by doing so, she was crushing the glass that she still held in her hand. She ignored, or did not feel, the pain of the shards of glass cutting into her palm and almost welcomed the warm sensation as blood began trickling from her wounds onto her palm.
"Ukyo---I'm s-sorry."
His words of consolation only served to dash any hopes she might have still harbored about getting her Ranchan to love her. In Ryoga's eyes, she- --_they_ had already lost. The only thing left for her to do was to pick up the pieces of her battered hear and move on.
Yeah, she should definitely just get over it. After all, hadn't she spent most of her life without having Ranma in her life? Surely she could survive this little stumbling block in her life because, after all, wasn't she Ukyo Kuonji the chef extraordinaire with the killer spatulas? Besides, guys were a dime a dozen so it should be quite easy to piece her heart back together and force it to forget him and find someone else to love.
But this was something that Ukyo did not have the will or courage to do at the moment. She might very well feel differently in the morning but, for today at least, she would not pick those pieces up.
Instead, she merely let the grief wash over her as she began to sob uncontrollably both for the child of so long ago and for the disillusioned woman she had become.
----------------------------------------------------------------
The moment Ryouga Hibiki had stepped outside the Tendo Dojo it had suddenly dawned on him that he would never again see Akane Tendo's sweet face nor would he ever get the chance to see if he could have won her love or, at the very least, her friendship.
Although it was a bit unreasonable of him to want it, he wished badly that he had at least had the chance to ask her out on a real date. Ranma had argued many a time that Ryoga had no idea about Akane, that she was a complete stranger to him and that he knew nothing about her.
But he was wrong. For as little as Ryoga may have known about her, he at least knew that she had a kind heart and a gentle disposition and that she was a kindred spirit.
She would not have turned him down, he knew that now.
In retrospect, his hope that she would someday return the love he felt for her may have been futile, but he did not regret having loved her. Rather, he regretted having been such a coward by not giving himself a chance to act on that love. In his mind, he saw that he had been that bumbling, stuttering fool too often and had thus wasted valuable time and the various opportunities life had given him.
And yet to add insult to injury, Ranma was doing the very same thing by not admitting to himself that he was deeply in love with that girl even though he had already won her heart.
For Ryoga, seeing Ranma ignore the treasure he had within reach was like a slap in the face. Fate had been cruel enough already by giving Ranma a gift he was so obviously undeserving of, but seeing such a gift go to waste was a bit too much to bear.
That was why he had spent the past couple of hours wondering around Nerima, not caring where his horrible sense of direction took him as long as it was somewhere far away from the girl he'd hurt and betrayed and the guy who'd made his life so miserable.
He had crossed streets he vaguely recognized and houses filled with families he did not know. Although Ryouga felt that this was one of the worst days of his life the ironic thing was that not a cloud was in the sky, the sun was out, and there were a couple of birds that actually had the audicity to break into song. Ryoga had wished that he'd had his slingshot with him just so he could silence the cheery chirps that seemed to mock him.
His mood did not improve any even as the sun had begun its descent in the horizon and an evening chill set in. He silently prayed that his feet and bad sense of direction would take him somewhere warm and far, far away.
Much to his dismay, that horrible sense of direction had decided that today was not the day to travel to foreign lands and thus, it had taken him only a couple of blocks from the Tendo dojo and into Ucchan's Okonomiyaki Restaurant.
He had entered the restaurant with his usual accessories: the trusty umbrella that would keep him from becoming the next bacon special, the map that would have saved him many a headache if had he only known how to read it, and a backpack where he kept all his worldly belongings, which were not many.
Now that he found himself sitting next to a sobbing Ukyo he wondered what on earth had compelled him to stumble through those doors in the first place. He almost hated himself for having come to ruin the young girl's hopes. And yet, something told him that knowing the truth, as much as it hurt, was infinitely better than living in denial.
As awkward as the moment was, it was also deeply comforting because this brown-haired girl with the sad eyes was someone who understood that one could love without being _in_ love with someone.
He and Ukyo had loved two people with all they had in hopes that their love would someday be returned. They had seen only the good in the objects of their affections and yet, as little as Ryoga knew about love, he knew that this in and of itself was a flawed love and, as such, he also knew that they would both survive this whole ordeal. It might take time and effort, but they _would_ live to see the day when the pain wouldn't be so unbearable.
As he reached up with one hand to take off the yellow bandana that had always branded him as a deceitful person, he wondered if they would have been willing to take a chance on falling in love, flaws and all.
Ryoga stuffed the bandana in his pocket and then placed his arms around the okonomiyaki chef and began to gently stroke her hair. She stiffened in his arms for a moment and then relaxed and her sobs soon quieted down so that she was shedding silent tears. They sat there in companionate silence, two people who had, like many others, suffered the "pangs of despised love"*.
The restaurant had, he noticed, been empty even before his arrival and he wondered what time Ukyo usually closed for the day. He did not need to wonder long as the chef suddenly pulled away, stood up and walked to the door, a set of keys already in her hands. It was then that he noticed that her hand was bleeding.
"Ukyo...your hand."
She merely looked down at said hand and shrugged.
"Don't worry, it's nothing a little anticeptic and a couple of bandages won't cure, sugar."
He was beside her in an instant, her palm in his hands. Before she had a chance to protest, he gently rested her palm in one hand and with the other, he reached into his pocket to reach for the yellow bandana he'd taken off his head only moments before.
"First thing's first. Where's that antiseptic?"
Ukyo nodded and made her way back to the counter to get it where it was placed in one of the drawers. Ryoga did not question its location, since he knew that many a fight had taken place in and outside of this very restaurant so it was only prudent that the antiseptic remain within reach at all times.
They sat back down on the stools and Ryoga proceeded to clean her wounds with such care that any passerby might have commented how sweet it was that chivalry was not dead. Afterwards, Ryoga took the bandana and wrapped it around her hand, thinking how fitting it was that the same bandana that he had worn while carrying out his deceit was now being used to heal wounds.
Ryoga suddenly remembered that it had grown dark outside and, as such, he had probably already outworn his welcome.
"I probably should get going."
Ukyo suddenly bolted from the stool, ran back into the kitchen and emerged with about four bottles of sake in her hand. She wore a rather strained smile on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes and when she spoke, he immediately recognized the false cheer.
"You're not telling me that you're leaving a girl to drink all by her lonesome, are you sugar?"
Ryoga saw the offer for what it was: a means of escaping reality once more. He actually pitied the awkwardly cheerful girl before him if only because he could see that putting on this act was strenuous for her. He found that he did not have the heart to deny her the request. Besides, it would help both to forget, if only for a few short moments, that they had lost the most important battle of their lives.
"N-no, not at all. I just thought-"
"Well, it's settled then."
Ukyo filled two cups with sake and offered one to her companion.
"Cheers," she offered, and downed the whole cup.
"Cheers," he replied, as he raised the cup of sake to his lips, finding comfort in the way the warm liquid burned in the back of his throat.
"How about we play a drinking game, sugar? You tell me why Ranma's no good for me, take a drink, and I tell you why you're better off without the tomboy and I take a drink. First one to fall over in a drunken stupor loses."
Ryoga suddenly wished he had taken his leave as he'd intended.
"C'mon, honey be a man and play the game."
Why oh why, he wondered, must this woman be such a masochist? Nonetheless, he agreed because, after all, how could he possibly turn down an offer to push Ranma off the pedestal she'd placed him on and, besides, as unreasonable as it was, he was pissed off at Ranma for taking his happiness away.
"All right, I'm game. First reason, he's a sex-changing freak and you'd have to be bi-sexual to enjoy sex with him."
Ryoga swallowed the sake while Ukyo merely glared at him.
"I could have sex with him only in his male form but, nice try. Now my turn."
She picked the cup of sake up with her good hand.
"First reason, she's a violent woman who'd send you to the hospital every time she went on one of her jealous rampages AND you'd end up dirt poor with all the medical bills that would pile up."
She downed the sake and Ryoga knew that the game was about to get ugly.
"I don't bruise easily and, there's always health insurance."
Ryoga gripped the cup of sake in his hands before moving on.
"Second reason, he's an arrogant bastard who doesn't care about anyone but himself and you'd probably end up alone with a house full of kids while he's off trying to find a cure for his curse."
Ryoga tried not to think about the way that Ukyo's jaw was twitching in anger and downed his cup.
"I've always wanted kids and my trusty spatula says he wouldn't go _anywhere_ without me."
Ukyo filled another cup to the brim.
"Third reason, her cooking's toxic and you'd never make it through the celebratory dinner she'd prepare for you on your honeymoon night."
This game, Ryoga decided, was definitely taking a turn for the worst.
"I'm packing a dinner from reception leftovers and she wouldn't _have_ to cook. I'd hire a maid."
Ryoga ignored the wave of dizziness that threatened to overpower him before muttering the next reason.
"He still sees you as his childhood friend, Kuonji, not as the woman you've become."
He drank the sake and didn't dare look up to see the expression on Ukyo's face.
"She sees you as the nice Lost Boy and...nothing more."
There was no malice in her voice but, nonetheless, the statement stung his pride.
He reciprocated in kind.
"He chose okonomiyaki over you."
Ryoga was not too drunk to know, even before the last word was out of his mouth, that he had gone too far.
He mentally retraced his steps back out the restaurant, down the street, past the Tendo Dojo and willed his mind to take him back to those years of solitude before he'd ever met Ranma Saotome. The vision in his mind saw him forget the day Ranma'd ever taken the last piece of bread. That was the moment that had started it all. If he had just refused to let pride get the better of him, he would have avoided all the tragedy he had suffered thereafter. He never would have followed Ranma, never would have met Akane, and he wouldn't be sitting there offending the woman beside him just because she'd spoken the truth.
There was no way to take back those words and he couldn't turn back time so he decided to do what he should have done so long ago: suffer the consequences like a man.
But not before grabbing a bottle of sake and drinking himself into oblivion.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Ukyo was seething with rage. How dare this stupid, cowardly Lost Boy use the most humiliating event of her life against her? Who the hell was he to even mention it when the girl he loved would probably choose her pet pig over him any day?
Didn't he know that her feminine pride had been wounded enough? Ranma had chosen okonomiyaki and Akane over her and, what the hell was WRONG with her? Was she that undesirable?
She wanted to knock this boy senseless because, even in her drunken stupor, she couldn't ignore all the insecurities that were invading her thoughts.
There were so many nights that she'd cried herself to sleep wondering why it was that Ranma always chose Akane over her.
Night after night she'd agonize over the possible reasons: she wasn't feminine enough, pretty enough, strong enough, desirable enough...and the list would go on and on.
He was sitting right next to him and she could have easily slapped him across the face, the gods knew she wanted to, and told him to get the hell out of her restaurant but he'd just downed a whole bottle of sake and he too looked tired and drunk as hell.
Besides, as much as it pained her to admit it, he had only spoken the truth. Ranma _had_ chosen okonomiyaki over her---but he had only been a six- year-old boy who had not known the implications of his choice. She could not hate that boy because it was that same six-year-old boy she remembered from her childhood who had been genuinely pleased to see her again, albeit in the form of a sixteen-year-old adolescent. Ukyo had seen him in Ranma's eyes.
She met Ryoga's gaze and knew that she could not hate Ranma as long as that six-year-old boy was still alive. And he _was_ alive because he had not been destroyed by Genma's stupidity or by the passage of time.
No, she would not hate him nor would she give in to the rage that was threatening to consume at the moment. Ukyo grabbed the last bottle of sake and emptied it of its contents. She would be angry, yes, because he still had a lot to answer to and she was certainly hurt and humiliated but she could never hate him.
"You're right. He did. And now it's time to move on."
Ukyo did not know whether it was due to the amount of sake she had consumed or maybe the fact that she was tired of feeling so damn vulnerable and weepy but she let go of all her inhibitions. She grabbed the ribbon that held her hair in place and let the soft brown waves fall to her shoulders.
Tonight, she wanted to feel gorgeaous and sexy and wanted and passionate and fuck romance because it was all about lust anyway, wasn't it? It didn't matter that she'd probably have a horrible hangover the next day or that her heart would suffer the moment she thought about or saw Ranma.
Gods, she wanted to forget _so_ badly because it was better to give into the primal urge that was growing within her and just forget. That's all she wanted at the moment.
So, much to Ryoga's surprise, she moved her stool closer to his and cupped his face in her hands. She closed her eyes, willing her heart to forget, at least for that moment, that she had ever loved Ranma Saotome _that_ way and just enjoy her first kiss.
She placed her lips on his, enjoying the sensation that shot through her body as he responded. She focused all her emotions on that one kiss as she took his lower lip between her own and opened her mouth in order to allow more intimacy between them. Her hands moved down and around his neck even as she felt his move down to her waist.
He caressed her lower back and she alternated between caressing his back, his shoulders and running her fingers through his hair. Their kiss suddenly became urgent and there was an unspoken understanding that they needed each other at that moment.
No promises were made and there were no thoughts of tomorrow because this was all about the here and now.
Ukyo was lifted from her stool so that she was straddling his hips. He placed soft kisses on her neck and she pressed her body closer to his.
Their breathing became more labored and, at that moment, Ukyo wanted nothing more than to rid herself of her restrictive clothing.
She put her hands underneath his shirt and placed them on his chest and touched the warm, taut skin. He, in turn moved his hands under her shirt and moved them up and own either side of her waist, and her skin felt as if it were on fire.
Then, his hands moved up and down her waist and she couldn't help the way her hips began to sway a little because she was just so caught up in the moment.
Ukyo decided that she was still sober enough to know her limits when she felt his hands moved to unhook her bra. She broke the kiss and Ryoga stopped, his hands still on her bra clasps, his eyes questioning her.
It would have been so easy to just grant him access to her---to get lost in the pleasant sensations that were now coursing through her body. At that moment, she was willing to do just about anything to push the sorrow and humiliation out of her mind even if that lasted only until the next morning.
The Lost Boy's eyes reflected that same hunger and desperation and she couldn't help but think that she could have easily fallen in love with this boy, if Ranma Saotome had never come into her life.
It was for that very reason that she decided she could not go any further. She just could not bear to have this moment reduced to nothing more than a tryst between two people who had succumbed to their drunken stupors.
So, it was with a heavy heart that Ukyo finally shook her head, no. She placed her head on his shoulders, and hugged him to her, hoping that he would not think her a tease for stopping.
She gave a sigh of relief when she felt his arms go around her shoulders in reassurance. At that moment, she was grateful to Ryoga Hibiki for making her feel like a woman worthy of being loved. This moment had almost erased the painful memories of her past.
Almost.
As it was, she resigned herself to listen to Ryoga's rhythmic breathing and thought it odd that it seemed to match her own. She settled herself into his lap, placed her arms around his neck and lay her head on his shoulder.
Who would have ever thought, she wondered, that the Lost Boy would be the one to find her when she needed him most or that the okonomiyaki chef find her way onto his lap? She prayed that she'd find this whole experience amusing some day.
For now, it was better to focus on the fact that her face was too warm, her heart was beating ten times a minute and she was very sleepy. Her eyes seemed to close of their own volition and she was half asleep when she heard Ryoga's voice.
"I woulda chozen _you_."
Ukyo found that she did not know what to say to that so she opted to say nothing. Instead, she simply placed a gentle kiss on his cheek and burrowed her head into his shoulder all the while thinking that maybe, just maybe, life would soon give her the opportunity to experience a love that was not bitter with someone willing to share the wonders that that love had to offer.
And maybe, just maybe, this time she would not get left behind.
---------------------------------------------------------------------- ----- Author's Notes:
*This line is, of course, from Hamlet's famous "to be or not to be" monologue. It's one of my favorites.
First of all, I'd like to thank Nonsequitur for sending me the thought- provoking e-mail that inspired me to write the side story that I'd promised everyone a long time ago. Love is, indeed, the greatest paradox known to man: it is the most joyful emotion we can experience as well as the most painful. It cannot be defined concretely because it exists in many varying forms. The love each one of us experiences is unique to our own circumstances.
All I can say is this: Embrace it. Live it. Enjoy it. Be grateful for it.
I've read a couple of fics with this same concept: Ukyo finds out from Ryoga that her dreams and hopes are for naught and they share the pain that only those who experience unreciprocated love can understand. In those fics, they usually end up sleeping together and forming a bond that eases the pain of having lost their respective loves.
I don't quite agree with this. Sure, they'd probably feel empathy for each other and because misery loves company they might console each other until the wee hours of the morning but I think the disappointment of their failed attempt at love would be too fresh in their minds for them to be able to jump into another relationship, much less with each other.
I wanted the story to have elements in which they are shown to be compatible but thought it best to leave the romance for another time.
This story was all about getting them as drunk as sailors and a little bit frisky, but nothing more. ^_~.
No, seriously. Love is tricky and complicated as are human relationships but I tried my best to keep this as realistic as possible...although, I must admit that I might have gone over-board with the angst. Forgive me.
In any case, let me know what you think by leaving a review or by e-mailing me latin_usako@tokyo.com
Until next time, Latin Usako