A/N: Here we go!
Times New Roman is Akane.
Italics are Ranma.
Insecure
Jerk. Jerk, Jerk, JERK, JERK. Ugh, what was the matter with him? After I had spent hours worrying and cleaning up the injuries he had gotten from Ryoga, Ranma just lets Shampoo waltz in and take my place. Come on, he wasn't that hurt. He could have pushed her off.
And then Shampoo makes him dinner. And he eats it. He EATS IT while my homemade meal sat to the side, untouched. Granted, it was a little burnt, but it was still edible.
He should have known better. He should know me well enough now to know that I get upset about those sorts of things. I just wanted to help, I just wanted to be close to him, couldn't he see that?
That stupid girl, what was the matter with her? Its not like I asked shampoo to come. Ok, so I had asked Kasumi to order me some take-out food, but how could I know she'd call the Neko Hanten? Not that I had complained—food was food.
Unless it was Akane's food, then it was little better than eating toxic waste. I had tried to eat Akane's food. How could I not when she smiled all sweetly like that? But I was already beat up and weary as it was, and I didn't want to be sick as well.
She didn't have to hit me like that. I hadn't wanted her to hit me (not that I ever did, though sometimes I deserved it). I had been getting along with her, a rare thing for us, and it was nice. I liked being with her. Didn't she see that?
Why was it that every time we got along, someone had to come and ruin it? It didn't happen just once or twice, but every single time! But maybe it was better that way—maybe he was glad when people interrupted. I wouldn't be surprised. Why would he like an uncute, weak, temperamental girl around anyway?
I know I'm not completely hideous or pathetic. I just couldn't help thinking about it sometimes. It was his fault; he was the one who always pointed it out. And compared to the other sparkling beauties that ran around this town, why shouldn't he say that about me?
I haven't always thought like that. I used to consider myself the cream of the crop. But then he came, in all his glory and magnificence, and I crashed. Crashed hard. And I sometimes find it hard to be confident with this deity in my house.
Curse everyone in this stupid town. Curse my father, and Mr. Tendo, and Nabiki, and Cologne, and Shampoo, and Mouse, and Ryoga…All the people that ever get in the way, the list could go on forever. But maybe it was better that way. Maybe if they didn't ever interrupt, and I actually said something or did something, it would all be over.
I wouldn't be able to stand that. I wouldn't ever recover if I sat there with my heart in my hands and she laughed at me. Or worse—if she pitied me. I've seen Akane pity people before, people like Mouse, or Genma, whom she felt sorry for. But she never really thought much else of them.
But that would never happen. Even when we aren't interrupted, we're fighting more often than not. And why wouldn't we? She's amazing, and I'm an idiotic, perverted, jerk that can't do anything right. Or that's what she said, anyway. But when I compare myself to her, I might as well be all of that and more.
I already felt bad for hitting him. I always felt bad, but sometimes I just lost my temper and swung anyway. All right, most times. But I wasn't ready to apologize yet. I probably wouldn't be ready until tomorrow at the earliest. I needed some time to cool down and think it over first.
But he didn't understand that. He usually didn't. So, of course, only minutes after I punted him out of the house and ran to hide in my room, he was back. He came in through the window, like always. As I saw him standing there, I vowed to fill in the window with concrete the first chance I got. But I knew I wouldn't.
The window was almost like a symbol—some kind of metaphor I always looked to. I always left it open, even in the middle of the winter. I wanted him to know he was always welcome. Even if right now I wanted to punch him right back out it.
She hasn't said anything yet. She's just glaring up at me, although she might as well just be screaming for me to leave. But I'm not going to. I want to talk to her. Not that I had any idea what I was going to say. I'd just sort of come through her window, almost out of habit. It was conveniently always open—the girl must be a reptile, or something, because even in the middle of a snowstorm it was wide open. I often snuck in, just to cover her with extra blankets.
It's dark in her room; she hadn't turned on the lights. Only the moonlight, coming in from behind me casts shadows in the room. It's reflecting off her face, glinting in her eyes. Even with that scowl on her face, she looks beautiful.
She's kneeling by the bed, and I wonder what I should do next. Should I sit down? Should I stand? What do I say?
"What do you want?" She finally snaps at me.
"I want to ask you something." I cross my arms, trying to look nonchalant, though I'm sure she can see right through me. She has a tendency of doing that.
"What?" I ask impatiently. I don't want to talk to him right now. He knows that. But that cocky look doesn't fool me and I can tell there's something on his mind. It had better be good, or I'd just add to the bandages he already had.
His jaw clenches and unclenches as he thinks of what to say next. One hand strays to the back of his neck as he tries not to make eye contact with me. A habit of his that I always found extremely cute.
"What do you think about Ryoga?" The words tumble out of his mouth so fast I almost can't understand him.
"Ryoga?" I'm pretty sure I look stupid with my jaw on the floor like that, but it was just such an unexpected question. But Ryoga? What the heck? Why was he suddenly talking about Ryoga? I didn't care about Ryoga right now, why did he? "Look, Ranma, I don't want to talk about this. So, goodnight."
She stood up slowly, and took my shoulder, guiding me toward the door. I pull away from her and walk to the middle of the room, looking back at her.
Yeah, I know it was a stupid question. Of all the questions in my head, I hadn't been planning on asking that particular one. But now that it was out, I wanted to know. I wanted to know exactly what she thought of Ryoga and how hard I should beat him up for it.
"Do you like him?" I ask. My heart was beating now. I was scared of her answer.
She just blinked up at me, confused. She looked down at her fingers as she spoke. "Well, Ryoga's very sweet. I'd say he's a really good friend of mine, and…"
That wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear. I suddenly felt bitter. "Huh. Sweet? Is that all it takes for you to fall in love with someone?" Whoops, hadn't meant to say that.
What? Love? Did he mean with Ryoga? Why was he asking me that? Did he really think I was? Did he want me to be?
My chest constricted. I wanted to fight back. I just wanted to hit him. It would be easier than telling him the truth.
"What if it is?" I snapped. I knew it wasn't the right thing to say—but I suddenly wanted him to think I did. I wanted to make him uncomfortable, put him on edge, to make him jealous.
Would he even get jealous?
What if he didn't?
What if he just walked away?
I turned away from him, suddenly overwhelmed. It was hard to concentrate with him looking at me. His footsteps echoed in my ears as he came towards me.
I was losing her. She was turning away from me, taking steps toward the opposite wall. I sudden sense of urgency overcame me. I needed to know, I needed to know how she felt about me. I was lunged forward by my internal demand, and was suddenly right in front of her, looking down into the pools of brown that were her eyes.
I held on to her, not letting her escape. I needed her to answer me. I needed to know. It felt like I'd been here forever, just waiting for her to say something—anything.
"Are you in love with Ryoga?" Are you in love with me?
I couldn't ask her out right. I was afraid. I had fought demons, and gods, battled my way through an army of martial artists, and yet I couldn't ask this little girl that one question.
I stared up at him. I was breathing hard now, my eyes darting back and forth nervously. But he had backed me up against the wall, and his large, calloused hands held my wrists firmly, not allowing me to go anywhere.
Why was he doing this?
"Ranma, I don't want to talk about this—"
"Why not?" He demanded, cutting me off.
"I…I don't…" I didn't know what to say.
"Just answer me, Akane."
"No, I…Ranma you don't understand—" I felt like crying. I blinked rapidly to keep the tears back.
"Then help me to understand! Do you love him?" He was shaking. I didn't know if it was out of anger or something else.
"No!"
"No what?"
"I don't!"
"Don't what?" He was frustrated that he couldn't get a strait answer out of me.
My resolve broke as the first tear slid down my cheek. I couldn't handle this. My heart was beating so hard in my ears I could barely hear him. I just wanted him to leave. But I knew he wouldn't. I didn't want to say it, who knows what would happen if I said it…
So I said it.
"I'm in love with you, stupid!" I all but screamed at him.
My mind was blank. I didn't think anything and I couldn't feel anything. I was vaguely aware that my heart was pounding like mad.
Slowly, my surroundings came back to me. One thing echoed through my head.
"I'm in love with you, stupid!"
Had she meant it? Was she serious? She, the beautiful and glamorous Akane Tendo, was in love with me, an idiot with a foot in his mouth, Ranma Saotome?
There was no way. It was too good to be true. I almost didn't want to believe it; I was afraid that she might start laughing and say it was all a joke.
As I thought about that I focused on the wall I was staring at. Akane was not there. She had slipped out of my grasp and had slid to her knees in front of me, her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking in quiet sobs.
I didn't know what to do—I wanted to hold her, and laugh, and kiss her, and cry all at the same time.
I was crying, yet my chest felt free. I had been holding it in so long, that now that I had said it, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted off of me. And yet, at the same time, my insides were tight, waiting for an answer. But he hadn't even moved, let alone said anything. Even if he walked away—that at least would be some kind of reaction. The silence just felt like a sharp knife.
I HAD to get out of here. I needed space; I had to think everything that had just happened through.
I turned to the side, wiping at my tears at first, before giving up and stumbling toward the door. I didn't hear Ranma's sharp inhale as I reached for the doorknob.
The crack of light that had entered the room was smothered as Ranma quickly slammed the door shut, his hands on either side of my head. I stared at the crack in the door, my breath hitching as my last chance at freedom disappeared from view.
I didn't move. One of his hands moved to my shoulder and turned me around. I reluctantly let him. I didn't look up at him, but stared at the small hollow in his throat, smelling his scent with shuddering breaths.
His hand traveled up my neck and along my jaw line. He lifted my chin towards his face. I couldn't see his expression, but the moon in the window behind him cast shadows on his neck and shoulders, framing his head in a hallo.
His head bent to mine.
"Akane…"
I wasn't exactly aware of what I was doing. All I knew was that I didn't want it to end like this—I didn't want her to leave yet.
She was like a giant electric magnet, pulling me towards her. I had experienced this pull before, but now there was nothing keeping me from just going with the flow. She loved me. All the walls had crashed down.
Just as my lips barely brushed hers she whispered weakly, "Wait…"
I froze, my breath mingling with hers. I didn't move for a long time, deliberating whether or not I would actually obey. My half lidded eyes blinked and I pulled back slightly, looking down at her.
The moon shone in her eyes again, reflecting off the tear tracks drying on her face. She looked up at me, searching for something.
"Do you…" She began timidly, barely above a whisper, "Do you love me?"
I was holding my breath now. I was trying to keep his scent from clouding my thoughts. His touch alone was almost breaking my resolve, but I needed to keep a clear head. I needed to know this.
I had practically poured my heart out to him. I needed to know he felt the same. I wouldn't be able to stand it if he didn't. And some part of me, the part that was demanding answers, was still unsure as to whether or not he might be in love with Shampoo or Ukyo and just playing me. I hated that I couldn't trust him in this one moment, but I wasn't stupid enough to charge forward blindly.
I still couldn't see his face, but I could tell he was just staring at me. He wasn't moving, or saying anything again. My heart fell.
My chest heaved as tears pricked my eyes again. Oh no, he didn't…
Ranma suddenly opened his mouth.
No, I didn't want to hear it, I didn't want him to say it…
"Akane," He whispered so close to my ear it made me shiver. "I have always loved you."
I didn't know about "always" but I did know that it was long ago that I fell in love; it felt like I was born to love her. Although, I'm pretty sure I was.
Oh, crap, what had I said wrong?
She was crying now. The tears were just leaking out, without a break or pause. She wasn't sobbing—the water was just coming.
I was trash. A huge, filthy pile of trash. How dare I make this angel cry? I wished Ryoga would come back and bury me alive.
I took my hand still pressed against the door and cupped her face with both, frantically wiping away the tears with my thumbs. I didn't have enough fingers to catch all the droplets.
"W-why are you crying?" I asked worriedly. Had I hurt her when I wasn't thinking? Was it just what I had said? I thought she'd be happy to know that I loved her back.
Akane's chuckle cracked as it conflicted with a sob in her throat. "I'm c-crying because I'm happy, you idiot."
The jibe didn't even faze me. Besides it was said with such love it was more of a term of endearment. I smiled down at her. She was so cute.
I leaned into her again, glancing toward her eyes to see if it was all right. They were already closed. I didn't hesitate this time.
His arms were warm and strong around me. My tears were continuing their way down my cheeks and off my chin, but I ignored them. They were nothing compared to what was demanding my attention now.
This felt so right, with one hand against his masculine back and the other in his hair. Why hadn't I tried this before? I thought I was strong and brave, but I hadn't been courageous enough to say the one thing that would get me what I wanted.
I wouldn't let my own weakness get in the way of this again.
A seed of jealousy sprouted as I realized just how good she was at this whole kissing thing. I wondered whom she had kissed before. But it didn't matter—she was mine, and if I had to, I could kick whatever-man's-butt-it-was all the way to China.
I liked holding her. Her small frame fit perfectly with mine, like yin and yang. And, like yin and yang, we were meant to be together. Screw everything and anyone that had ever tried or wanted to get in the way. Forget all the fears and doubts I had had.
I was never letting her go.