A Night on the Roof
Or
Ranma ½: B.C. Style
Disclaimer: What do you think? I don't own Ranma.
It had been an excruciatingly long day and, much to his relief, Ranma was back in his favorite spot on the roof of the Tendo Dojo. The sun had only minutes before dipped under the horizon, and the air was still warm. Contrary to the norm of Nerima, a quiet peace had settled into the evening, with sounds of traffic and industry only a faint hum in the background.
Ranma lay down, stretching his arms high above his head and inhaling deeply, causing his shirt to rise slightly, exposing his stomach to the night air. He released the breath and placed his hands in their familiar spot behind his head. Against the popular belief of his family and friends, Ranma did not enjoy conflict, and today had been particularly hellish. As an attempt to break the Berlin Wall between him and Akane, he decided to treat her to ice cream, only they never reached the ice cream, but were as far as the Nekohanten before Ranma was glomped, challenged, adored, ignored, "trained", groped, or worshipped, depending on which suitor or rival was in front of him. In typical fashion, Akane placed sole blame on Ranma and gave him a free trip to the stratosphere courtesy of a certain mallet. He had run into Mousse on his trek home, and had bought a little something off of him to settle his nerves.
He sat up, yawning slightly, and pulled the clear plastic bag out of his pocket. He raised it to his eye level, surveying his stash. "Who da thought Mousse would be good for anything." Ranma thought, "I guess with a life around herbal medicine he would have had to picked up a thing or two."
He pulled a pack of papers out from his pocket, as well as a lighter and placed them in his lap. He carefully measured out a half-gram, vigilantly removing all the seeds and stems. A paper was taken from the pack and he skillfully rolled his herb into a tight joint, twisting the ends slightly to prevent any from falling out. He placed the doob behind his ear while preparing to wrap another. Once done, he took another deep breath, and leant over the side of the roof, making sure no one could see (or smell) him. He brought the joint to his lips, cautious not to wet the papers too much, and brought the lighter to the end. With a quick flash and a little coaxing, the end was steadily lit. He inhaled deeply, feeling the smoke fill his lungs. A second or two passed, and he slowly let out his breath, sending a plume of smoke into the night air. A repeat of the previous action and Ranma could feel the effects at the edges of his body. For the first time since Jusenkeyo, he finally felt some peace, and lay down on his back, taking a quick drag.
Suddenly, Ranma heard a noise behind him. He raised himself onto his elbows, realizing any sudden moves would be pointless in his current state. He turned his head and his slightly dilated pupils regarded a certain short-haired fiancée. Hazy blue met shocked brown. "Ranma, what are you doing?!"
"Akane, I… I am smoking. Hmm. Yes." He mumbled somewhat incoherently, but still believing in his sobriety. "You look like there are monsters behind me, which would be sweet!"
"You? SMOKING? Ranma! You're a martial artist, you can't do that! Your body… It's illegal, you're gonna get in big trouble for that!" She shrilled.
"Shhh tomboy, you're harshing my mellow." Ranma chuckled slightly, pinching the end of the joint, not wanting it to burn away, "I ain't gonna get in trouble, if nobody get me in trouble. What are you doing up here anyways?"
"I was looking for you. You've been missing for hours. You even missed dinner, you never miss dinner." Akane eyed the joint warily, and added quietly, "I made sure we saved you some though."
Ranma eyed her curiously, surprised at the gesture. He stared into the distance for a moment and then patted the spot next to him, motioning for Akane to sit next to him. She started to move, paused, and then shuffled over to sit by him. "It's a nice night tonight, eh Ranma?"
"For serious Akane? We've been engaged for how long and you still resort to weather? You should be the one smoking; you defiantly need to relax a bit too."
"What!? You're crazy!"
"Your loss 'Kane."
Perturbed, she looked over at him, and noticed an unusual calm in his aura, which had caused his shoulders to relax for the first time in years. She carefully grabbed the rollie that was behind his ear and looked at it with a little fear. She knew the consequences to what she was about to do, but dismissed it. A little relaxation sounded incredibly tempting. "Hey Ranma, pass me the lighter."
Ranma's eyes bulged. He couldn't believe Akane, the wonder-child-good-girl of Nerima, was sitting beside him about to break her good streak. (That is, other than beating the living shit out of every boy around). "Okay… But don't light that one yet, I've only just started this hit."
He took the budwrap to his lips and re-lit it. He took a quick puff and passed it on to Akane. She stared at the doobie, squeezing far too hard for the papers to manage. "Steady on there Tomboy, your gorilla strength is gonna put it out." Ranma muttered.
Akane frowned, not impressed with the slights he had sent her way. She brought the unlit end to her lips and inhaled. At the feeling of a foreign gas on the back of her throat and top of her bronchi she coughed, releasing the smoke into the night. Ranma laughed, "Steady on there Akane, your first toke will always sting if you're not used to the smoke."
Her frowned deepened. Yet another thing Ranma is better than me at. Akane sighed internally, and brought the joint to her lips again. This time she held her toke, and released it into the night air and passed the joint back to Ranma. He took another big hit and released the potent gas though his nostrils. They kept up like this until they were down to a tiny roach. "Yo 'Kane, you got a bobby pin on you?"
"Yah.. Here." She muttered dazedly.
He fixed the last of the doobie in the bobby pin, and took a series of short puffs. "You seem too good at this Ranma, is this your first time?'
"Nah. When Pops and I were in China, we stayed at a temple/dojo that had to turn to alternative methods to fund their practice. They also believed that marijuana helped align the soul and the body. A win-win situation of sorts. So they gave me some bud and since then, I pick it up where I can find it."
Akane frowned deeply. "That's pretty bad of your dad to let you do that, even if it was for "training" puposes." Akane raised her hands and tweaked her fingers as and emphasis on "training."
Ranma let out a howl of laughter. "You joke, right Akane? When has Pops even done anything responsible? Anyways, he got a couple ounces off them to sell later. I think he smoked most of it himself in the end."
Akane continued to frown and a silence settled between them, with only the movement of the joint back and forth keeping their connection. Ranma put the rest of his baggie in his pocket. After a couple of minutes, Ranma began to giggle. Akane looked over at him, with a questioning look on her face. "Bad of your dad, you said." He giggled some more. "I like your rhymes foo."
Akane's frown showed some cracks, and she started to giggle. "Ranma, you are so baked. You're like a Bob Marley tribute concert without the music."
"Music could be arranged." He took a breath and broke out in his stoned Japanese version of Buffalo Soldier until Akane slapped a hand over his mouth, shutting him up before his voice carried too far. She started giggling harder, and they fell back cackling. Once they had calmed down enough to speak again, Akane piped up with a question that only stoners can figure to ask. "Ranma, when you turn into a girl, do you feel your voice change?"
"I didn't know my voice had feelings, should I be nicer to it?"
The giggles started again.
Ranma looked down at the bobby pin roach in his hand only to see the last of it had burnt away. They lay back down in silence, letting the feelings of relaxation and calm settle over them. Ranma's stomach rumbled, breaking the mood. "I've got the munchies something terrible, you want to head to the kitchen? I could eat your food right about now."
Akane ignored the jibe and rose to her feet, then pulled Ranma up. They were suddenly face to face, they both held their breath, unsure what to do next. Akane reached up behind his ear and pulled down the second joint. "You better hide this, imagine what Nabiki would do if she found this on you."
They jumped down from the roof to the garden, and slowly opened the screen to the living room, and continued into the kitchen. True to her word, Akane had left some food for Ranma in the fridge, which he inhaled, and then proceeded to look for some cookies. "Hey Hoover-man, steady on a second. Save something for me."
Ranma found the cookies and scoffed down a couple. Handing Akane one for his six. Once they were stuffed enough to chunder, they made their way upstairs, a long and deep sleep seemingly ahead. Outside Akane's door Ranma stopped for a second, looked down at her and gave her a quick kiss on the forehead. "Night Tomboy, we should finish the other joint another night, 'k? Maybe we'll make a gravity bong, see how stoned we can get you."
Akane was speechless, she heard no malice on the tomboy, and here was Ranma, actually wanting to spend more time with her. "S-sure thing Ranma. Goodnight then." She then opened her door and scurried inside and dove onto her bed. Ranma lazily padded his way to his bed and lay down, sleep catching him quickly.
On the far side of the garden, by the dojo, a faint glimmer of a lit end was barely visable. Soun and Genma were out for their nightly toke, unbeknownst to the other residents of the Tendo dojo. "Well, Saotome?"
"Quite, Tendo."
"You did say, Saotome."
"Yes, and see there Tendo."
"Your best plan yet, Saotome."
"Yes, yes, Tendo."
"And Mousse came through?"
"The proof's in front of you."
"It is indeed, Saotome."
"An excellent night, Tendo."
"And many more ahead, Saotome."
Genma toked in deeply. On the exhale, a faint whisper was heard on his lips,
"Perfect."
--
So… this is my first published fic. It's really bad, and if I get any reviews, I know they're gonna be flames. Whatever. We stoners need some rep in the fanfic world. I sliced open my hand at work, painful. T3s+weed+ibuprofen + pain me, high as a kite. Therefore I wrote this. I really am a glutton for punishment, because it kept opening up as I was writing.
Peace from the OuterIsland.