This is a repost of a story I started almost a year ago, and it's been stewing almost since then. Seeing as how I've revived it, I figured it'd be a good idea to repost it. Oh, and there've been some formatting changes as well.

Hmm... Well, Enjoy, folks!!

Prologue

Sweat clung to his entire body. He tossed and turned under a deep blue sheet, unable to sleep easily. In his dream, blackness surrounded him. He could see nothing in the darkness, but he could hear the voices. Quiet whispers came to his ears, bringing with them a message that he did not want to hear.

Blonde strands of his own hair blew around his face from time to time, even though there was no breeze. Other than the blackness, there were only the whispers.

Umanrin

The voice chanted over and over again.

"Who are you?" he finally cried into the darkness. His navy blue eyes seemed to shrink away from the black abyss around him.

Umanrin, the voice whispered again. In the distance, he could see a shape forming before him. There was no color to it at all. It was a shadow within a shadow, purest black within black.

"Leave me alone!" he hollered. The shadow moved closer, and he turned to run. As much as he ran, he seemed to gain no distance between himself and the thing.

Umanrin, the shape said again, its raspy tone deep yet hollow, resonating through the darkness. Come home. It is your destiny.

"No!" he cried out, trying to run faster.

The shape bore down on him and enveloped him whole. The incredible blackness surrounding him brought on a new level of panic, and he cried out even louder.

"NO!!"

Jason shot up in his bed. Sweat poured freely from him, and he was vaguely aware that the sheet felt soaked through.

That damned stupid dream again! No… not a dream… a friekin' nightmare!

Sitting now in the darkened room, it was just a reminder to him of it all. He reached out a trembling hand and flicked on the lamp that stood on his bed stand, illuminating the room around him.

His heavy breathing seemed to thunder in the stillness of the room, so loud it was almost an assault on his eardrums. Out of instinct, he reached down and scooped up the dagger from beside his alarm clock. Clipping it onto his boxers, he turned his head to look at the time.

Three thirty in the morning, he thought with a tinge of regret that it was not later, wishing that he could just get up now and not have to face trying to go back to sleep. He looked around the room with a hint of panic still in his eyes. Then, flipping the sheet off of himself, he rose up and went to the washroom.

Flicking on the light before walking through the door, he entered and moved to the mirror, turning on the cold water tap of the pedestal sink beneath it.

Thank goodness for small blessings, he thought to himself as he took a cloth from beside the sink and began to carefully wet it under the running water. He wrung it out just as carefully, letting most of the liquid run off the tips of his fingers and back into the sink. He then brought it up to his head and wiped at his brow. Overwhelmed by how good it felt, he continued applying the cool compress, sighing almost out of relief. He reached for the hanger on the wall beside the sink and removed the burgundy hand towel from it. Wiping his forehead clean, he gazed at his reflection in the mirror for a moment without moving.

Almost beyond his perception, the whisper started again. So silent at first, then becoming more persistent as it grew steadily louder. He leaned in closer to his reflection, as if it were what was speaking to him.

Umanrin

Jason slammed himself back against the wall hard, slightly cracking the drywall behind him. A black shape appeared on the mirror, fading into view. The shadow took over his reflection. Red, menacing eyes shone back at him laced with malice. He stared back wide-eyed, suddenly consumed by them. He could see no good there, only an endlessly dark pit that came from deep within. Jason panicked again, shaking his head from side to side, his eyes never leaving the reflection in the mirror.

"Not again…" he trembled as the words shook from his suddenly dry lips.

Come home, Umanrin, the shape spoke to him, though it had no mouth. It was only black and jagged, roughly forming to the reflection that it covered.

"Who are you!?" He cried back at the shape, wanting an explanation from this dark figure. He found he could not look away, as the burning red of its eyes would not release him from its steadfast gaze.

You already know, the shape said, its voice dark and menacing. We are one, you and I.

"NO!" Jason screamed in a roar of defiance. He refused to believe that his fate was tied to the thing before him. He would not let it break him. "I'm nothing like you! You're just a low-class Shadow Demon!"

Come home, the voice beckoned once again. Talin Grethor awaits you.

Jason could take it no longer. Unfortunately he could not take his eyes away from the shadow's own. Still, unwilling to let it continue, he threw himself forward away from the wall with a scream, drawing back his fist as he did so, and following through with a solid punch to the mirror, putting all his strength behind it. The mirror shattered into hundreds of pieces, his fist continuing on through the drywall behind it. As the glass fell away, so did the bathroom around him. Light turned to blackness again, and once more, Jason cried out.

Ranma sat on the bench overlooking the lake at the park. He hadn't really moved from the spot he was in for well over three hours. He was wearing his white Chinese sleeveless shirt and his usual black slacks. In his copper-blue eyes there shone a reflection of the lake before him, but he wasn't actually seeing it. Behind his aimless stare, he was instead looking back to the night before.

A white tuxedo, two meddling fathers, three crazy rivals, three utterly insane suitors (he refused to view them as Fiancées since none of them were his choice), and a cask of Nanniichuan later, he had almost been a married man!

He lifted his head a little more, his gaze flitting to the skyline above the city in the distance. A new vision danced behind his copper-blues now, a vision of beauty, one of Akane, clad in her western wedding dress, smiling at him softly before he went and ruined it by arguing with her again.

Gods, she misunderstands me so easily. Ranma thought with more than a little trepidation. I tried to tell her that I didn't SAY it, but… Kami, I've screwed it up again.

"Hey, Ran-chan."

A shiver went up Ranma's spine. It wasn't the normal fear quotient he'd dealt with when one of his suitors would show up. This was something else entirely. He slowly turned his head to the side as to view the new arrival. Ukyo was clad in her usual outfit, with her hair tied up by that stupid white bow she sometimes wore. She didn't have her combat spatula on her back, but the band of throwing spatulas was still strapped across her front. Her face seemed to be a mixture of worry, embarrassment, and hope.

Ranma scowled at her as his mind began replaying her part in the disaster that had been his wedding. A part she had never once apologized for, even though she had blatantly disregarded the safety of every single person who had been present, the most important of those being Akane. He felt his anger flare at the thought. That look of hope was about to get a good beating!

"Ukyo," he growled. Her face fell a little as she noticed that he had failed to use her nickname, Ucchan. Ranma barely seemed to notice as he plowed onward, his scowl deepening a little. "I don't think you should be callin' me that any more. That's reserved for a friend ta use. After what you did ta me an' Akane… I don't think I EVER knew you."

A piece of Ukyo's heart was ripped out of her chest by Ranma's words, and her breathing grew a little desperate as she sat on the bench beside him.

"But Ran-ch… Ranma…" she breathed out, choosing her words carefully. "They were going to marry you to that uncute tomboy without your permiss-"

Ranma was off the bench and stood leaning over Ukyo in a heartbeat, his finger right in her face. "Don't you EVER call her that, understand! Those are MY names for her! NOT yours!"

Ukyo's face fell ashen, and she glared down at the pavement, her eyes going quite red. It was obvious that she was fighting back some tears.

"So she's a friend to you then?" Ukyo asked, the question sounding more like an observation. By his own admission, the words 'uncute' and 'tomboy' had been his pet names for Akane. All this time, she had thought them insults. Now, here he was, slowly bashing away at all her preconceptions.

Ranma stood up straight and crossed his arms in front of his chest, his hard stare not leaving Ukyo's downcast eyes.

"And more…" he answered. Ukyo's face twisted a little, her eyes going wide. Her head shot up and she met his gaze full on, her eyes locking steadfast with his. What she saw there made her breath catch and her heart ache. The look he wore was ripe with pain and laced with anger. She felt a tremor of fear and her cheeks burned hot as she realized that the anger was now directed at her, the pain an obvious result of her recent actions.

Oh, Gods… What have I done…?

"M-more?" Ukyo whimpered. "Ran… Ranma… what am I to you, then?"

Ranma sighed heavily. He closed his eyes and hung his head down, his arms still crossed over his chest. "Ukyo… Ya gotta understand somethin'. When ya first came here, you weren't lookin' for me ta marry me. You were lookin' ta get revenge for being abandoned. All those years ago… I thought you were a guy. Don't you get it? A Guy! Any memories I have of ya from back then are of me and my best friend Ucchan; a boy. That's what ya were ta me back then."

Ukyo swallowed hard. "And now…?"

Ranma's eyes opened, and he looked right at her. His usual shimmering pools were barren and empty; his expression as hard as stone.

"Now you've gone and screwed it up," he answered bluntly. "Comin' to the wedding and throwin' around bombs like that. No regard for the safety o' anyone. That's not what a martial artist does, Ukyo!

"Look, I thought that we could be friends an' all, and you bein' a girl wouldn't end up mattering. Fuh. Guess I was wrong 'bout that, huh? The second I call ya 'cute', an' I was just tryin' ta cheer ya up, by the way… suddenly you're chasin' after me babbling 'bout getting hitched and being my fiancée."

Ukyo shook her head a little. "But, Ran-chan, I love you."

"Don't!" Ranma scolded her, his scowl growing deeper. "Don't call me that, Ukyo. Whatever friendship I was hopin' we could have got blown away by yer own bombs. Don'tcha get it? Ukyo… I can't love you. In the back of my mind… you're still Ucchan, my best childhood friend; a GUY."

Tears rushed down Ukyo's red cheeks, her eyes shimmering as she looked back at him. His face remained an impassible barrier, and no matter how hard she tried, she found that there was no way to tell what was going on inside his head.

"So…" she sniffed, looking away from him. "So that's it, then?"

Ranma's eyes softened a little, but his determination remained rock-solid. "Yeah," he whispered. "Yeah, I'm afraid it is, Ukyo."

"No!" She exclaimed harshly, throwing herself off the bench to jump right in his face. "I won't accept that from you, Ranma!"

Ranma stood his ground, his eyes narrowing upon her, as he steeled his resolve. He wasn't surprised by her outburst, after all he'd come to expect this sort of thing, he only wished he'd found a way to deal with it before it had gotten so out of hand.

He watched her face twist with anger even as the tears gained in strength. "You owe me, Ranma! You and that fat Panda you have for an old man!"

Ranma felt his scowl slowly set back in. He began to shake a little as he tried to control his growing anger, a low growl escaping him. "Don't do this, Ukyo." He warned. "You'll only hurt yourself by doin' this."

She ignored his warning, pressing forward, her anger outweighing any future consequence. "It's not like it could be any worse than what you're doing to me now," she snorted, giving him a piercing stare. "Our fathers made a promise Ranma. Or have you forgotten!"

Ranma could feel his frustration rising steadily with every word she uttered, her accusation only managing to ignite a firestorm inside of him. "Look Ukyo," he said through clenched teeth. "I ain't responsible for any decisions made by my old man! It ain't his right to make decisions like that for me!"

"That doesn't matter, Ranma!" Ukyo hollered in return. "Genma took my father's yatai as a dowry! Honor now says that you have to follow through with their agreement!"

Ranma felt his temper finally snap at her righteous indignation. "MY FATHER'S HONOR HAS NOTHIN' TA DO WITH ME!!" He was practically seething with anger, his cheeks burning a bright red.

He was tired of her using his honor against him like this, as if what he thought or felt about the matter was of no consequence. It simply infuriated him. He took a few deep breaths, trying to bring himself back under control. "If that old fool was stupid enough ta make promises like that to Kami only knows how many people, how the hell do you expect me ta live up to all of them, huh?? I'm bound by my father's honor to marry half the population of Japan!!"

Ukyo shook her head in defiance. "None of them have the claim on you that I have!"

Ranma's eyes narrowed at her implication. "And what sorta claim is that Ukyo?" he asked, he voice low, guttural. "One where I get no say in what happens ta me?" He shook his head in disgust. "All you girls think ya own me. Only Akane ever treats me like what I think matters. Well, I got news for ya Ukyo, no one owns me. You got it!?"

Ukyo opened her mouth to say something, but found no words would come. Was that how he really saw her, she thought sickly, as some sort of bully intent only on what she wanted? Had she really been so blinded by her own love for him that she had simply disregarded his feelings in the whole matter? She felt a sudden shame wash over her and did her best to tamp it down. There was, after all, still the little matter of the dowry paid to his father. He still owed her something for that.

"So what're you gonna do about my father's Yatai? Huh?!" She said, unable to stop herself. She knew she was pushing him but his accusation had stung more than she cared to admit. "Is it all just water under the bridge to you, Ranma?! Do you even care?"

Ranma squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching and unclenching rapidly at his sides. Of course he cared! What the hell did she take him for? Your idiot pops, no doubt, his mind responded instantly. He mentally chuckled humorlessly. He didn't know why he should be surprised. She never hesitated to throw it in his face when things weren't going her way. Still, this guilty until proven innocent act was beginning to sorely rub at his patience.

"Listen here, Ukyo," he gritted. "Of course I care about your father's yatai. I ain't tryin ta say that wrong things ain't been done by my old man. He's done a lot wrong, and now it seems I gotta make up for it all the time."

"So just what are you saying Ranma?" Ukyo stated bluntly, not caring anymore if she provoked his ire. "That you'll pay for it, and then to hell with the rest?" She crossed her own arms firmly in front of her, casting a deeper scowl in his direction.

Ranma felt his frustration slip another notch. "Let. Me. Finish." He punctuated each word, trying desperately to contain his anger, if only for the sake of their future friendship, something that he knew he still wanted to try and hold onto. "What about the damage to my mom's place and the Tendo Dojo, Ukyo? Don'tcha think that cancels out any amount that my old man owed to yours fer the Yatai?"

Ukyo snapped. "THAT'S NOT FAIR, RANMA!!"

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "FAIR?! FAIR!?" he asked incredulously, his eyes boring into hers. "AND HOW WAS WHAT YA DID TO MY MOM'S PLACE AND THE TENDO'S 'FAIR' TA THEM, HUH??"

Ranma gritted his teeth in frustration, adrenaline still throbbing through his veins as he struggled to maintain control over his near-exploding temper. He never liked it when he lost control, and set his mind not to let it happen again. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. When he finally spoke his voice was low but firm.

"You wanna preach 'bout takin' responsibility for your own actions, Ukyo? Then why doncha stop and take a long look at your behavior at my wedding, look at how low your obsession with me has made you sink. The danger you ended up puttin' people in. Then consider your part in destroyin' my mom's home, and the Tendo's Dojo. Think of what it's gonna cost them and start findin' a way ta make it up to them, cuz this insanity has ta stop. This isn't you Ukyo, at least it's not the person I used ta know, and if this is the way it's gonna continue ta be then any friendship we might have is over."

His nose was now less than an inch from hers. She flinched at the harshness of his words, shame washing over her, as she watched him finally take a step back, putting a more comfortable distance between them. The tears falling down her face increased their fervency, now flowing out in two gushing streams to soak her cheeks. She collapsed to her knees, utterly spent of all excuses, and sat back on her heels as she took her own face in her hands and began to sob.

"I… I d-don't want to… to lose you… R-Ranma…" she choked into her hands.

Ranma stood a few feet away, fighting the urge to let it all drop and make her feel better; anything to stop her from crying. He hated it when a girl cried, especially when that girl was his best friend. He clenched his teeth and set his jaw as he stepped two feet closer and sank down into a crouch, his elbows planted on the tops of his thighs.

"Ukyo…" he said quietly, his voice causing her to sniffle loudly, but she finally turned her face up to look back at him. His expression had softened just a little, but it was enough for Ukyo to be able to see it. "It'll be up to you whether or not ya lose me. Do you understand?"

Ukyo tossed his words over and over in her mind. Did she understand? Could she accept that Ranma had not chosen her in the end? That her actions had indeed canceled out any debt Ranma owed her for her father's Yatai? That, maybe he was right and for the first time in two years, she was beginning to realized the fact that she had to find a way to fix the mess that Genma had put them all in? …That none of it had really been Ranma's fault, or responsibility, to begin with?

She swallowed hard, and felt two years worth of bitterness, betrayal and pride slide down her throat. She nodded slowly, finally looking out across the lake. "Will you… will you ever… f-forgive me?"

"I… I don't know, Ukyo… I-I think so… but I'm not the only one who needs ta forgive you."

Ukyo nodded again. She knew that Ranma wouldn't stay angry, but there were a few people that just might. His mother and Mr. Tendo weren't likely to go easy on her for her hand in the massive damages to both their properties. Not to mention what she had put Akane through.

"I know," she breathed, simply letting the tears take their course now, hoping it meant that they would end sooner. "I just wanted to know… if we… if we would still be… f-friends…" She choked on the last word, almost resenting what it meant, but also struggling with the fact that, maybe, just maybe, she treasured that even more closely than anything else in the world right now.

Ranma was caught a little off-guard by the question. It almost sounded as if Ukyo was more crushed at the thought of losing his friendship than he would have been for ending it. Could it be possible that, in her mind, she hadn't loved him like she thought? Was it possible that a larger part of her just didn't want to lose him as a friend?

Heh… I guess that means there's a chance after all…

"I don't know, Ukyo." Ranma breathed in reply, casting his own gaze out across the lake as he stood slowly to his full height. "Maybe we can, y'know, give it another try or somethin'. Being friends, I mean. I'd… I'd like my old friend back. I just… I need some time, Ukyo… just ta clear my head a bit."

Ukyo took in a shaky breath, and decided to grab the life-line he'd just tossed her for all it was worth.

"Well," she coughed a bit, her parched throat now taking its toll. Finally, standing up as well, she looked his way once more, wiping the tears from her face with the back of her hand. The corners of her mouth trembled a little as she forced a smile onto her pale appearance. It wasn't much of one, but it was enough to take away some of the pain that had covered her expression. "I guess… I'll just have to wait, then."

Despite the current state of his feelings toward her, Ranma found himself returning her smile, his eyes softening slightly. "You were always good at waitin' Ukyo, thanks for givin' me this time an' space. It goes a long way in showin' me that you really do wanna be my friend."

Ukyo's face took on a new resolve, and after a moment of silence passed between them, she gave him a slight nod, her eyes conveying her sincerity. "I do Ranma, I really do."

She took a step towards him and brushed a hand down his arm until she was holding his hand. She gave it a quick squeeze, and then leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. She moved her mouth to his ear and whispered to him.

"See ya around the ward, huh?"

Ranma nodded. "Okay."

Ukyo pulled away from him, releasing his hand. She cast one final sad look in his direction, but quickly followed it up with a hopeful wink. Then, she turned on her heel and walked away from him, a new form of hope sliding into her gait as she went. There was so much more that she wanted to ask him; so much more that she needed to know. Those answers would have to come at another time, however. For now, she was physically exhausted; as if she'd just fought some great battle. Had she really lost? She wasn't quite sure. Maybe, then again, maybe she'd won more in the end than she'd been handed for the last two years. Maybe, if she could win back his trust, she could be his best friend again, like they had been way back when… then he wouldn't have to be wary of her anymore, as she now knew he had been this whole time. He wouldn't have to feel he was walking a fine line around her, wondering if he made the wrong move what she would do next, especially to the one he'd truly chosen. He hadn't said it out loud, but it wasn't like she'd been clueless all this time, either. She couldn't imagine it had been fun for him, and if friendship was all he could offer her, well then it was sure better than the alternative.

She felt her tenacity strengthen at this thought, and her bearing grew even more with her renewed determination. She wouldn't play that part again. Deep down she was aware that a part of her had never really wanted to hurt the Tendo girl. She also knew Ranma was right when he had said Akane was the only one who had always considered his feelings in any decision involving him. Perhaps it was time she took a lesson from this. Ranma needed space, and some time to think, and that was exactly what she intended to give him… and in the meantime she would go on to do some soul searching of her own.

Ranma watched her go, her form slowly mingling back into the populace of Nerima. He gave a deep sigh, feeling the burden of their conversation begin to float off his shoulders, as he turned once again to look out over the park. Taking a step back, he sat down heavily on the bench once more, his eyes traveling out over the skyline of the city in the distance, a single tear rolling unabated down his right cheek.

His breathing was harsh as he threw himself into a sitting position, startled to find that he was once again back in bed. The blaring alarm clock told him that it was now seven in the morning. He breathed heavy as reality faded in, and he considered the possibility that it was all just a dream. Turning on the lamp and rubbing his eyes, he shut off the alarm and grabbed his dagger. Pushing the sheet sleepily off of himself, Jason rose and headed for the bathroom.

Flipping on the light, he walked in and made his way to the mirror. The first thing he noticed as he entered was the crack that was there in the drywall. He frowned at this, panning his vision down to the floor, where his jaw dropped at the sight of the broken glass scattered over it. He hissed as a surge of fresh pain shot up his right arm from his hand, and he lifted it to his face in confusion. His eyes grew large at the sight of the abrasions on his knuckles, dried blood covering its back and palm. He finally looked up and saw the destroyed mirror in front of him.

"Oh, Gods… No…" he whispered.

Edmonton International Airport was a bustle of activity. Hundreds of people scurried across the floors to get to their flights, while those that arrived off of them tended to linger and mingle amongst the crowds at the coffee and snack shops. At one of the flight gates for International Air, a woman was tapping her finger against the solid surface of the check-on-counter with mild impatience. In front of her, Jason was fumbling with a pile of papers, trying to show them to her all at once and failing miserably.

On the scan-screen in front of her were the contents of Jason's largest bag. Her eyes had grown quite large at the sight, and she had promptly refused to let him on the plane. After mumbling a few curse words in a language the old lady couldn't really understand, Jason had started going through his jacket pockets and producing pieces of paper. Papers that, she now realized, were separate permits to carry each weapon that lined the interior of the bag.

"And then for the throwing knives… and the Wakuzashi… and the broadsword!" Jason finally came to a halt, looking back at the clerk with hard eyes. She shook her head slowly from side to side, and then gave an exasperated sigh.

"Very well, young man." She rubbed her temples a little. "A ticket to Tokyo International is quite expensive, you know. Especially with the… uh… extra 'luggage' that you are carrying."

Jason's eyes gleamed. "Money I got. Just tell me how close Tokyo International is to the Nerima Ward."

Akane shuffled her feet as she walked, looking down at the ground. Her short, raven-blue hair blew out around her face in the slight breeze that flitted through the air, as she kicked a loose pebble across the sidewalk. She had been walking back from the store, having picked up a few small dinner items for Kasumi. The errand had been a wonderful excuse to get out of the house and away from her babbling father, so she had jumped on it like white on rice.

The events of yesterday followed hot on the heels of her mind, and she found that she couldn't stop thinking about what had transpired. Her father had somehow managed to talk her into going through with that stupid wedding idea. Why had she even agreed to it?! She'd been trying to convince herself all day that it had been because of that stupid Nanniichuan water that Happosai had guzzled back. Though the truth be told, she'd had quite a different reason for agreeing to marry Ranma.

I KNOW I heard him say it… I know I did! She shook her head, trying to clear the clutter in her mind as best she could. She cast her memory back to the day before yesterday with more than a little pain. She remembered floating above her body, seeing herself lying so still in Ranma's arms. She saw the tears on his face, and even now, her heart went out to him. Then she heard him cry out the words she'd so longed to hear, 'I Love You'.

She had felt her weightlessness shatter with the sentiment and for the next few seconds the world had suddenly become a massive swirling blur. The next thing she knew, she was whispering his name, her eyes opening ever so slowly to stare up into his beautiful face.

He said it… I heard him… Oh, Ranma. Why did you fight with me over this? Aren't we past all this by now?

She raised her head from the sidewalk at the sound of approaching footsteps. The sudden introduction of the daylight to her peripheral vision stung a little, but she quickly became accustomed to the change. What she saw made her instantly stop in her tracks.

Ahead of her, sitting on a park bench off to the side of the street, was Ranma. He was looking at something out across the lake. Her eyes then spotted Ukyo, who was walking a good distance to her left, heading off in the direction of her restaurant. What got Akane's immediate attention was the way Ukyo had looked.

The chef's face was flushed, and it was quite obvious that she had been crying. Her gaze was held low, shifting back and forth between her feet and the pavement ahead of her. Puzzled, Akane threw one more quick glance over at Ranma. He wore an expression that barely hinted at some kind of internal pain. It was masked, however, by the resolution that still lined his handsome features.

Akane gave her head a quick shake and began walking again. She knew that Ranma had probably heard her footsteps by now, and there was no point in trying to hide from someone who could tell you were there without the need to even glance your way. With this thought in mind, she walked over and stood beside the park bench, her own eyes sweeping across the lake, trying to see what Ranma found so interesting.

Silence passed between them for a few long moments before Akane gave a deep sigh and finally broke it.

"How're you doing, Ranma?"

Ranma, for his part, seemed to think long and hard about that particular question. His eyes narrowed ever so slightly, considering the truest way to answer it. Finally, he did the last thing Akane ever expected him to at that moment. He chuckled.

"Heh, surprisingly good." He shook his head in bewilderment at himself. "Kinda weird, actually. I thought fer sure I'd feel like crap by now, but…"

She didn't want to, but she found herself smiling back at him a little.

"Baka," she said softly. "What did you say to Ukyo?"

His face hardened a little. She watched his eyes quiver a bit, a telltale sign that he was going over something important. Another minute of silence followed her question, but today of all days, Akane didn't feel like there was any need to rush him. Finally, Ranma cleared his throat.

"Akane," he sighed. "I'm gonna say somethin' that I don't want ya to take the wrong way, Okay?"

She raised an eyebrow in confusion at the pig-tailed martial artist, but slowly nodded back at him. "Alright."

He looked down at his hands as they lay folded together in his lap. "I'm not ready ta talk about her yet. I've gotta figure some stuff out first. An' I don't want ya thinkin' that I'm tryin' ta choose, or nothin', cause I ain't playin' that stupid game anymore."

Akane blinked a couple of times, staring at Ranma as though he were painted a bright pink. Her first instinct had been to lash out at him for not wanting to talk about his conversation with Ukyo, but then that would only have given into her usual habit of making assumptions where he was concerned. Something that Ranma had specifically asked her not to do. That meant there had to be some deeper meaning behind his request. Should she be worried? She shook her head quickly at the thought. Kami, where had that even come from?!

"Ranma," she breathed. "If you… don't want to talk about it, then that's… okay. But what did you mean by that last part? The one about not playing 'that stupid game' anymore?"

Ranma shuffled his feet nervously, his hands tightening their hold on one another.

"I just meant that… I ain't gonna let people try an' make up my mind for me anymore. It should be my choice, who I wanna… y'know… be with."

Akane absent-mindedly nodded her head in agreement. It was all too true, and something she could completely relate to. So many people had tried on a daily basis to impose themselves on her. Her father for one, was always trying to push her closer to Ranma. The sad thing being that in retrospect his and Genma's constant interference had only garnered them quite the opposite effect most of the time. And Kuno, that stupidly ridiculous excuse for a Shakespearean wanna-be, had hounded her every single chance he could to go out with him. He was simply incapable of understanding how anyone could refuse to have their lives be intertwined with his oh-so-glorious-self. He endured the beatings he received from her for the simple fact that he believed them either to be due to what he saw as Ranma's undeniable hold on her, or accidental underestimations on her part of her own brute strength. If she hit him he would often proclaim something along the lines of, 'I shall forgive my love for not looking where thou hast moved thine fist before chancing to open it and welcome me into thine arms'. Or of course his favorite line, 'damn that foul sorcerer Saotome. How he doth have an evil hold on my fair Akane Tendo. I shall smite him where he stands'. The thought alone made her shake her head at the sheer stupidity of it all.

"I know what you mean, Ranma." She answered quietly. "Umm… should we, maybe… talk about the uh, wedding thing?"

Ranma sighed heavily before looking back up at her. "Do you wanna?"

Akane thought for a moment, then shook her head 'no'.

"Me either." Ranma finished, looking back at the lake. Silence grew between them again, but this time, both of them were beginning to feel more than a little awkward. Glances shot between one another from the corners of curious eyes revealed some hidden topic that still remained, as of yet, un-addressed. After several minutes of this, Ranma slid over slightly on the bench, leaving enough room for Akane to join him.

She looked down at the spot he'd just made for her, and for a few seconds, she just stared at it fixedly. Then, her movements becoming somewhat automatic, she stepped to the front of the bench and sat down beside him. Slowly, and more than a little awkwardly, his arm stretched out across the back of the bench behind her. She picked up his cue instantly, shifting her position, as she leaned slightly into his shoulder.

No words were exchanged, either in insult, or in conversation. Instead, they simply took in the scene before them silently, both enjoying the sudden peaceful tranquility of such a beautiful day, and the secure comfort they found in each other's company.

They watched as some children played a game of soccer in the grassy field off to the left. While ducks took turns swimming idly by on the surface of the lake, dipping their heads under the water every now and then, as they searched for fish. The reflection of the noon sun shone bright off the water while on the outskirts, a jet was coming into view, slowly making its way across the sky to Tokyo International Airport.

Next up, Jason touches down in Tokyo, but with some unexpected side-effects for the greater host of Nerima's more experienced Martial Artists. And just what is that Ryouga up to, anyways?

Review away guys. It's all motivation material for me! You know you wanna...

Matt Saotome