Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma 1/2
Warning: Just a quick heads up - this isn't the happiest of fanfictions.
The day had finally come.
The day where he would be separated from the one he loved. The one he thought would have been with him forever. Should have been with him forever.
But it was not to be.
Three years ago, whilst giving birth to their child, Ranma's wife passed away.
He fell into a deep depression and lost sight of what was most important.
Day in, day out, Ranma slowly worsened as he performed.
His voice would faulter as he sang sweet words of a love song, the memories of his deceased wife haunting him. It was as if he had lost the passion inside of him - the thing that kept him singing with all his heart. Now he just sang with his head and his voice. There was no meaning behind it anymore.
A blunt pencil in hand, he could only think of lonely lyrics. Words to portray his sorrow and grieving.
"Man, I think it'd be best if you take a break. Y'know, a one to two week holiday?"
Ranma looked up from the page briefly, glancing at his band member's face.
The rest of the recording team nodded.
"Do what's best for your health and spend some time with Haruko. Ever since... You've done nothing for her except name her. Isn't it time you stop being selfish and give her what she really needs?" The only other mother in the building, his make-up artist asked.
"And what's that?" He asked, boredom and exhaustion clear in his voice.
"Her father. She needs some to look out for her, to tell her, each and every day, that things will be okay. That things will work out, no matter which course she takes and that he'll always be there for her. She needs reassurance throughout her life, not just a famous, over-worked father who couldn't care less about her existance."
"I've got millions of fangirls to please and a group to help. I'm in a boy band, working everyday-"
"Stop being so selfish! We can cope without you for a couple of weeks. It's not like there are any live shows you need to be performing at. And even if there were, it wouldn't make much difference if you were there or not - your voice is wavering more and more each day."
"Dude, you're becoming more and more incapable of hitting and holding all those notes you used to. I think that if you give it a rest and stop forcing youself, it'll come back."
So, giving up his efforts of resisting, Ranma took Haruko home.
Slumping into the couch, he stared blankly at the television screen that played on, normal life continuing around him as if his sorrow went unnoticed.
Haruko's gaze stayed on him, watching as he didn't move. She just kept looking, watching as he breathed, he blinked, he rested his chin on his palm.
Everything he did, she took in, unconsiously copying. She stared at him, slumped in a similar position, blinking rashly after him, keen to be like him. She was so interested in him. It was unnatural, and, in a normal world, rather cute.
Ranma drifted off into a daydream, about how his wife, Akane used to watch the T.V. No matter what was on she'd flick through the channels and find some old, black and white re-run from the sixties. It would nine out of ten times be a horror movie.
"Why do you like horror movies so much? You're scared of them, and they usually give you nightmares."
To which she'd reply; "Because it gives me an excuse to get a little bit closer to you."
An unsuspected bump, Ranma was drawn from his thoughts, causing him to quickly turn his head to figure out what the noise was. Ranma was met with his daughter, sat against the small coffee table in the centre of the room, with her head against the surface. She pulled it up again, tears in the corners of her eyes. Her bottom lip trembled for a moment, the silence becoming deafening. With a sharp intake of breath, the tears left her eyes, begining to stream down her face.
Unsure of how to react, Ranma sat there for a moment, the sniffling of the small child resounding in his head.
Soon enough, he dragged himself off of the couch, making his way around the table.
His big, fumbling hand scooping up her bangs, holding them out of the way of her face - those bangs that looked so much like Akane's. He scanned her forehead, and was met with a pleasant sight - she was unbruised.
"Shhh!" He whispered to her. "I-it's okay." His hands settled at her waist, carefully bringing her closer. She willingly accepted the embrace, her face falling into his chest and settling into his shirt. He was warm and she was tired. In moments, the crying stopped, her eyes fluttered shut again.
She was warm and safe. She was in his arms. Her father's arms.
The next week, Ranma devoted himself to making her life the best thing ever. There was never a dull moment, and if ever she fell, she had an accident, he instinctively made her feel better, just like that first night.
He bought her a child's bike - her first ever - and made sure there were stabilizers attached.
Play phones, dresses, anything she wanted she got. Not in a spoilt sort of way, but in an 'I care' sort of way.
His return to work was welcomed, and his passion for singing returned. But this time... This time it was for his here and now. For her. His daughter.