Ranma and company belong to the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi, but the poor fare below is mine. C&C welcome.

Words in (italics) are thoughts. WAFF warning.

THE DOJO: KAIWA

by: Skywatch

Ranma couldn't sleep. It was nearly midnight when he gave up trying. The day's events - the botched wedding, the concerted attack from Ryouga, Kuno, Shampoo and Ukyou, and the loss of his cure for what seemed like the six hundredth time - made him restless. Finally, he got up soundlessly and shrugged into his gi, tying the belt loosely. He glared briefly at the panda snoring merrily away on the other futon before he left. (Stupid Oyaji.)

Maybe a workout would help.

He padded through the empty house, a solitary figure mingling with the shadows cast off from the muted glare of moon and streetlamps. He was so thoroughly familiar with every nook and cranny of the Tendo house - his home for two years now - that turning the lights on didn't even cross his mind. Besides, the last thing he wanted was to attract attention, wake the others, or, kami-sama forbid, do anything that would result in another fight.

It was a weird thought from a guy whose life was geared towards fighting. Ranma didn't kid himself. He knew he was good, heck, probably the best martial artist the world had seen in years, good enough to beat (barely) a demi-god like Saffron.

(Saffron.) Just the thought of that name brought its own chill.

Was the fight with Saffron - the nearest he had come to losing with the stakes so high - the reason for this weird unease? But fighting had always been more than a skill; it had, up to this point, pretty much defined him, made him seem abrasive to some and proud and cocky to just about everyone else. He would never back down from a challenge and was absolutely intolerant of any weakness that he perceived in himself.

Which was why he had to figure out why this latest free-for-all left such a bad taste in his mouth.

Focused on these things, it was only when Ranma was standing before the dojo's open shoji that he realized that someone was already there.

Oblivious to his intrusion, a girl with dark pageboy locks gazed up, trance-like, at the simple shrine that overlooked the dojo. Her yellow pajamas and the length of her hands, pale as alabaster in the weak light, were smudged with dirt. Her lips moved with words her silent observer couldn't make out.

She inclined her head to the shrine. Then she bent down and resumed picking up the pieces of wood and other debris that littered the floor, gathering them into a neat pile. She paused only when she reached a portion of the dojo wall that had been completely smashed through. Light poured strongly through the gaping hole, illuminating the ivory of her face. She ran her fingers along the scorched edges of the hole, tracing the jagged wood as tentatively as if it were a wound. Tears sparkled in her eyes and made their way down her cheeks.

Ranma didn't know what to do. Part of him wanted to leave. His instincts told him that it was the safe, smart thing to do.

But Akane was crying.

Feeling strangely like he was on the verge of joining a battle, Ranma shook off his slippers and stepped into the training hall. For the first time today, he was able to take a good long look at the place. (Aw man ...) He hadn't realized that the damage was so extensive.

"Pretty awful, isn't it?" Akane summed up as she surreptitiously wiped her eyes with her right sleeve.

He pretended not to notice. "Its not too bad," he lied. He glanced awkwardly at the girl he'd almost married today. "Shouldn't you be resting or something? We've got school tomorrow."

She sniffed. "You're one to talk. The teachers will be mad if you fall asleep in class again."

"You'd think they'd get used to it," the pigtailed boy muttered. He wasn't exactly looking forward to the coming day. More than the dreary classes, there were going to be plenty of knowing looks, blunt inquiries, suggestive remarks and a million rumors. Nabiki would have a field day. He shrugged. "All I need is some rest. You though ... Kasumi said you were hurt?" It was part statement, part question.

Reflexively, Akane cradled one of her arms at the reminder. "It's nothing," she denied, "a bruise."

Moving gingerly, with none of his usual brash confidence, Ranma stepped towards his iinazuke until there was no more than a foot of space between the two of them. He held out his hands nervously, ignoring the steady warmth that crept into his cheeks. "May I?"

Akane hesitated. Then she extended her left arm for him to examine.

There was a bandage on her wrist partially covered by the end of a pajama sleeve. As gently as possible, Ranma drew the loose sleeve upwards, exposing more of her arm. Kasumi's careful wrapping was around two inches wide. Above that the back of Akane's arm was one huge dark bruise that extended halfway up to her elbow.

"It's okay. It's nothing," she repeated when he failed to say anything.

"It's not nothing!" Ranma's vehemence startled her. "The blow you blocked with this was strong. Somebody could've taken you head off!" he snapped. He gazed at her wrist. It always amazed him, that a girl with such strength could have such delicate wrists. Now it seemed even smaller under the bulky gauze wrapping. "And the bandage?"

Akane pulled her arm away. "I was shielding myself from an explosion, I think. The sleeves of the dress didn't reach that far and I got a little burned, that's all."

Pictures of the battle ran through Ranma's mind, but he drew a blank. He stifled a curse. Akane had been hurt, really hurt, and he hadn't even noticed! "Who was it?" he demanded.

"I don't know. I really don't," the girl insisted, as he threw her a disbelieving look. "We were fending off so many attacks. It's not like I was keeping track! What're you thinking of doing, anyway?" she asked irritably.

Ranma clenched his fists. "Knocking some sense into a couple of people." His voice shook with suppressed fury and underneath it all a flash of fear. A few inches and it could've been Jusendou all over again. (They think it's okay to attack Akane? I'll show em!)

But the girl was having none of it. "If I wanted that, I would've done it myself!" This time she was the one who snapped irritably. "Oh don't give me that look, Ranma. What are you thinking, that Cologne and Mousse would stand by and let you hurt Shampoo? They wouldn't, not unless you were planning on cementing your relationship under Amazon law. Or that you'd beat Ukyou senseless?" Akane raised her injured arm. "This could've been Kuno, for all we know."

That brought him up short. "What?"

"I don't think he even noticed, he was moving too fast, but you were busy with Happosai, your back was turned and he was going to rush you with one of those overhead strikes with that katana. Obviously I couldn't let him do that." Akane didn't sound angry at all now, just sad. "Is it always going to be like this?"

"Huh?" was his less than brilliant reply. The mental picture of Akane facing off against a kendo master with a naked blade, no matter how inept in his book, was giving him the shivers.

Her voice was somber. "A few days ago we were fighting side by side, risking our lives against Saffron and the warriors of Phoenix mountain. Except Shampoo, but she was under a spell," Akane amended. "Before that there was the trouble with the phoenix egg that Kuno bought, and Shampoo actually saved me. But today they banded against us. Somebody could've gotten hurt, maybe even killed." She wondered if she could explain why it bothered her so much. (Suddenly, we were the enemy.)

Her expression was unreadable when she turned towards him. "When you think of Kuno and Ryouga, how do you see them?"

"Rivals," Ranma answered immediately. "Ryouga more than Kuno. He's not a bad guy, but until we settle things, I guess we're gonna fight." (So long as he and I want the same thing, the same person - ) Ranma didn't dare continue that train of thought, not yet. "Is that what's bothering you, that they fought all out against us?"

Akane nodded, her short hair bobbing at the motion. "Sort of. Kuno and Shampoo, we've fought before so I wasn't that surprised. But the rest of them, specially Ukyou we're at school with her everyday. I thought, I don't know, that we'd become friends. I mean, we're supposed to be rivals of a sort, too, but ... anyway, I guess I was wrong."

Something clicked in Ranma's mind. So that was it. Of course Akane had figured it out first.

In the beginning, Ranma had thought of these people, with the exception of Ukyou maybe, as martial arts rivals first and foremost. After all, Shampoo had once chased him for months, trying to kill his girl side.

This was not because of any ill will on his part; it was merely an automatic response. Ranma was taught to immediately assess other martial artists for the threat or challenge they posed to him. Only later did he begin thinking of them as his comrades.

That was what had changed in the battle on Phoenix Mountain. Maybe the change began earlier, but that battle had somehow cemented his relationship with these people, placed it on another level. Somewhere along the line, they had become his friends. And you weren't supposed to fight your friends, specially not on a bloodthirsty "let's throw bombs and use real swords" level.

(If that happened to me - ) It must have been a faster process for Akane. Her quasi-normal life ensured that her mind didn't work that way. She wasn't automatically on the lookout for potential enemies and challengers.

One day it would dawn on Ranma that this was the real edge that he, Ryouga, Shampoo, and Ukyou possessed over Akane, and not so much some kami-given superior skill that they were born with.

Akane hadn't been trained or required to think like a fighter. Someday, Ranma might explain, "When you're on the run and there's no one to turn to, no roof over your head or a place you can call home, you have to be ready for anything at any time. It could be anybody, the guy walking down the road, the lady looking funny at you, anything." Perhaps after awhile, Akane would remember the two days that she had spent away from her home training as hard as she could, with the very real threat of losing the dojo hanging over her head, and begin to comprehend the edge that desperation can bring. Not accept, mind you, but understand and maybe begin to rectify the situation.

But that was only a future possibility. For now, Akane was a girl who, for all her faults, possessed a generous nature and a quick empathy. Ranma sighed. (This is the girl who took pity on Mousse minutes after he tried to turn her into a duck.)

Of course, Akane would take the attack hard. It wasn't the fight itself that bothered her. She was a martial artist, after all. It was the people who had mounted it - their supposed friends - and how ruthless they had been.

They had hurt her badly, in more ways than one, and he hadn't done a thing to stop it. Worse, he hadn't even noticed. So soon after Saffron, that was unforgivable. "I ... Gomen."

Akane looked confused. "What?"

"I ... you," he swallowed, and went on haltingly. "You're my iinazuke. Even if it was our fathers' idea, it was giri - my duty - to watch out for you. I didn't do that ... today." He kept his eyes studiously on the floor, concentrating on the spots of light that originated from the small holes in the dojo's roof.

So he didn't see her coming up to him until he felt the warm tips of her fingers touching his cheek. His head snapped up in surprise. Their eyes met and locked.

"This is a bruise, too, right?" she finally asked. "You were hurt, Ranma, but it's mostly thanks to you that no one was injured and that the dojo is still standing." Her fingers traced a gentle line to his jaw, and then went away.

The fleeting contact made his heart skip a beat. "Akane -"

She looked away. "If there's anyone who failed here, it was ME." Her voice was caustic, full of self-condemnation. "I'm the heir to the dojo, Ranma. It was my duty to protect it. Instead, the whole place," her hand made a wide sweep, "is a mess. I know I'm not the best martial artist around here, and that I've lost this place a couple of times, but I've always gotten it back. Well, today I nearly lost it for good."

Akane turned her head upwards, towards the holes in the roof through which, if she tried hard enough, she could see the stars. "The dojo always seemed indestructible to me. I mean, it's had it's share of damage over the years, but never like this. Now I know different."

(The look on her face ...) "You really love this place, don't you?"

The girl smiled faintly. "Since I was a child. I can't count the number of times I've fallen asleep in here after trying to master some technique or kata." She bit her lip pensively. (Especially after my mother died.)

"Then don't give up on it. Geez, Akane, you're blowing this out of proportion." Ranma shook his head. "Look, you fought well today, and your dojo's still in one piece. You haven't failed so long as we can fix it up." He cracked his knuckles. "We'll start tomorrow, right after school. Oyaji will help, too, if he knows what's good for him." (A lot of this was that stupid panda's fault, anyway.)

(Praise for my fighting? From Ranma!) His tone and the determination in it surprised her. She grinned, latching on to another of his words. "'We?' Are you actually volunteering for some hard work, Saotome?"

With her smiling at him like that ... Ranma tugged at his pigtail nervously. "Heck, I'm sure some of this damage was my fault, and this is the training hall of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts." He looked back at her. "I'm not like you, Akane. I've never had a place to hold onto and call mine growing up. But for the last couple of years this has been home, and the dojo's part of it." Not knowing what else to do, he held out his hand. "Well, you're the heir, it's your call. Will you let me help?"

Her eyes were brimming again as she took his hand and shook it firmly. "Hai. I - thanks, Ranma." Could the day get any stranger than this? It had begun so badly, but now for some reason Akane believed that everything would turn out alright.

"I, um, guess I'll turn in now." She eyed his gi. "Don't forget we've got school in a few hours, okay?"

Ranma nodded, keeping his mouth firmly shut lest it ruin the moment. For once he'd said the right thing and made her feel better. It felt good. Weird, but good.

Akane walked towards the open doors and picked up her slippers. Her iinazuke's words were still ringing in her head. ('We', he said, and he'd never had a place like this growing up.) "Ranma, I just want to say ... from now on, think of the dojo as something which is as much your place as it is mine. Alright?"

The pigtailed boy's eyes widened. Then, slowly, he began to grin at the girl's receding figure. "Hai," he whispered, perhaps too softly for her to hear.

Later on he'd wonder exactly what he'd said yes to.

Notes:

This was originally a flashback scene in Rekindling a Flame. It didn't quite work out, and after a little revision, ended up as a one-shot instead. I was really hesitant about posting this because of the huge number of stories already out there about "the night after the failed wedding." But then I thought, who knows, someone might like it. :)

Japanese words used in this fic:

Gomen - sorry (informal)
Hai - yes
Iinazuke - fiancee
Kaiwa - conversation
Oyaji - disrespectful equivalent of "Father"; sometimes translated in the anime as "Pops"
Shoji - sliding doors, like the doors to the dojo