- - - - -
- - - - -
Leaving
- - - - -
- - - - -
"You can't leave me," she screamed.
- - -
Ranma shouldered his pack and looked at Akane one last time. She still refused to meet his eyes; she refused to even lift her head. He had thought things had changed between them. They weren't quite honest with each other, but he had thought that-- Ranma banished the thought that followed. It didn't matter anymore. If she wanted him to stay, she would have to ask. She knew he wanted to stay, but it was up to her. He sighed and began to walk, his entire being begging for her to say something.
- - -
Akane looked down at her hands where they twisted into her skirt. He was leaving. He was leaving.
"You can't leave me," she whispered. (She couldn't do this on her own.) She looked up at his stiff, retreating back and took two steps forward. Her hands moved to clench into fists by her side. Tears blurred her vision.
"You can't leave me!" she screamed.
"I can't do this without you!" She took two more steps forward.
"You can't leave me!" Her voice was failing her and she couldn't see anything past her tears.
"I can't do this without you." She took two steps forward.
- - -
Ranma turned around at her scream. She looked so lost. Her tears fell, and his heart broke. He dropped his bag to the ground and walked over to her. Gently, he brought his hands up to cup her face and neck. She lifted her face to him.
"I can't do this without you," she said.
"Do what?"
"You can't leave us."
"Us?"
She looked away and crossed her arms over her stomach. Ranma closed his eyes.
"Oh, God…" he breathed.
- - -
He could never remember exactly what happened. He knew it happened, but what and how he was never really sure of. Flashes of memory would come to him at odd times.
He would be in class, his textbook open, halfway down the page, and the memory of Akane's lips parted beneath his own would come.
(It was as if he was living it in that second.)
He would be listening to Hiroshi and Disuke talk about their newest hentai, and suddenly he would see Akane with her back arched, her eyes closed.
(He could feel her curving into him.)
He would be in the middle of dinner, and he would know what it was like to be inside her.
(There was nothing else like it.)
- - -
He had gone to her the first time on the night of the failed wedding. (The irony of it was not lost on him.) He had had a nightmare of her cold and stiff in his arms, and he had looked up to see her ghost looking at him with sorrow in her eyes. He'd woken up drugged on his own terror. He had barely been able to make it to her room, the need to assure himself of her life pounding in every part of his body. He'd woken the next morning in his own room, on his own futon, with only the knowledge of her gift. And he'd lain there in wonder. She had given him her virginity, and he knew she would not tell anyone, and she would not use it to trap him into a wedding.
- - -
It had become a ritual almost. He'd see her ghost in his dream. (The sorrow was almost worse than the feel of her dead body in his arms.) Then, he would wake, terror in his veins instead of blood, and he'd go to her, and she would accept him into her bed.
How often had he had that nightmare? Almost every night.
- - -
"Are you really?" he asked. They were talking too quietly for anyone to hear. His father was behind him and her family behind her. They were all watching curiously. No one knew what was going on. (Only their panting had marred the silence.)
- - -
The engagement between them had been broken. Ranma's mother had insisted on it. It had been established that Ranma would marry Ukyo after another two-year training trip. Neither Ranma nor Akane had protested it, but then neither of them spoke much, not to each other and not to their families. (Depression is hard to over come when there's no way to escape it.)
- - -
"Yes," Akane whispered. "I am. Please don't leave me, Ranma. I love you. I can't do this without you."
Ranma sighed and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I won't. As long as you want me around, I won't ever leave you. I love you too." He leaned down and kissed her. Not the quiet, gentle kiss he knew he gave her before he left to return to his own bed (His only true memory.), but the deep, passionate kiss they shared before they made love. He didn't ever want to break that kiss. It was the first he would remember, and she felt so right pressed against him.
Akane wrapped her arms around him. She knew he didn't remember. He would look at her sometimes with this curious look on his face, as if he had just realized something, but he would never say anything. Where she was now was where she had always wanted to be, ever since that first night.
- - -
His eyes hadn't been focused, and his breath had come in heavy pants. Clumsily, he had shaken her awake. His hands had explored her face, his fingers running over her cheekbones, her forehead, her eyes, her lips. She hadn't meant to do it, but the feel of his fingertips against her lips had caused her to quiver with newly realized desire. She had kissed his fingers, and his unfocused gaze had come to rest on her. They sat frozen for a brief moment, and then he had kissed her. (The feel of his tongue in her mouth had been her undoing.) She knew then that no matter what, she was his.
- - -
He was hers now. She was pregnant with his child, an irrevocable claim to her status, her position in his life, and he wanted her to be. He had hoped always the morning after that this last time would be the time. It didn't matter anymore that he was promised to Ukyo; Akane and his child took priority. He knew that but he didn't see it that way; he saw it as the final answer to the question he had asked since everything had begun: How will you fix this, God?
- - - - -
- - - - -
End of Leaving
- - - - -
- - - - -
Companion Pieces:
Prequel to Leaving
The Wind: Sequel to Leaving
http://www.geocities.com/frankie_anne
- - - - -
Leaving
- - - - -
- - - - -
"You can't leave me," she screamed.
- - -
Ranma shouldered his pack and looked at Akane one last time. She still refused to meet his eyes; she refused to even lift her head. He had thought things had changed between them. They weren't quite honest with each other, but he had thought that-- Ranma banished the thought that followed. It didn't matter anymore. If she wanted him to stay, she would have to ask. She knew he wanted to stay, but it was up to her. He sighed and began to walk, his entire being begging for her to say something.
- - -
Akane looked down at her hands where they twisted into her skirt. He was leaving. He was leaving.
"You can't leave me," she whispered. (She couldn't do this on her own.) She looked up at his stiff, retreating back and took two steps forward. Her hands moved to clench into fists by her side. Tears blurred her vision.
"You can't leave me!" she screamed.
"I can't do this without you!" She took two more steps forward.
"You can't leave me!" Her voice was failing her and she couldn't see anything past her tears.
"I can't do this without you." She took two steps forward.
- - -
Ranma turned around at her scream. She looked so lost. Her tears fell, and his heart broke. He dropped his bag to the ground and walked over to her. Gently, he brought his hands up to cup her face and neck. She lifted her face to him.
"I can't do this without you," she said.
"Do what?"
"You can't leave us."
"Us?"
She looked away and crossed her arms over her stomach. Ranma closed his eyes.
"Oh, God…" he breathed.
- - -
He could never remember exactly what happened. He knew it happened, but what and how he was never really sure of. Flashes of memory would come to him at odd times.
He would be in class, his textbook open, halfway down the page, and the memory of Akane's lips parted beneath his own would come.
(It was as if he was living it in that second.)
He would be listening to Hiroshi and Disuke talk about their newest hentai, and suddenly he would see Akane with her back arched, her eyes closed.
(He could feel her curving into him.)
He would be in the middle of dinner, and he would know what it was like to be inside her.
(There was nothing else like it.)
- - -
He had gone to her the first time on the night of the failed wedding. (The irony of it was not lost on him.) He had had a nightmare of her cold and stiff in his arms, and he had looked up to see her ghost looking at him with sorrow in her eyes. He'd woken up drugged on his own terror. He had barely been able to make it to her room, the need to assure himself of her life pounding in every part of his body. He'd woken the next morning in his own room, on his own futon, with only the knowledge of her gift. And he'd lain there in wonder. She had given him her virginity, and he knew she would not tell anyone, and she would not use it to trap him into a wedding.
- - -
It had become a ritual almost. He'd see her ghost in his dream. (The sorrow was almost worse than the feel of her dead body in his arms.) Then, he would wake, terror in his veins instead of blood, and he'd go to her, and she would accept him into her bed.
How often had he had that nightmare? Almost every night.
- - -
"Are you really?" he asked. They were talking too quietly for anyone to hear. His father was behind him and her family behind her. They were all watching curiously. No one knew what was going on. (Only their panting had marred the silence.)
- - -
The engagement between them had been broken. Ranma's mother had insisted on it. It had been established that Ranma would marry Ukyo after another two-year training trip. Neither Ranma nor Akane had protested it, but then neither of them spoke much, not to each other and not to their families. (Depression is hard to over come when there's no way to escape it.)
- - -
"Yes," Akane whispered. "I am. Please don't leave me, Ranma. I love you. I can't do this without you."
Ranma sighed and stroked her cheek with his thumb. "I won't. As long as you want me around, I won't ever leave you. I love you too." He leaned down and kissed her. Not the quiet, gentle kiss he knew he gave her before he left to return to his own bed (His only true memory.), but the deep, passionate kiss they shared before they made love. He didn't ever want to break that kiss. It was the first he would remember, and she felt so right pressed against him.
Akane wrapped her arms around him. She knew he didn't remember. He would look at her sometimes with this curious look on his face, as if he had just realized something, but he would never say anything. Where she was now was where she had always wanted to be, ever since that first night.
- - -
His eyes hadn't been focused, and his breath had come in heavy pants. Clumsily, he had shaken her awake. His hands had explored her face, his fingers running over her cheekbones, her forehead, her eyes, her lips. She hadn't meant to do it, but the feel of his fingertips against her lips had caused her to quiver with newly realized desire. She had kissed his fingers, and his unfocused gaze had come to rest on her. They sat frozen for a brief moment, and then he had kissed her. (The feel of his tongue in her mouth had been her undoing.) She knew then that no matter what, she was his.
- - -
He was hers now. She was pregnant with his child, an irrevocable claim to her status, her position in his life, and he wanted her to be. He had hoped always the morning after that this last time would be the time. It didn't matter anymore that he was promised to Ukyo; Akane and his child took priority. He knew that but he didn't see it that way; he saw it as the final answer to the question he had asked since everything had begun: How will you fix this, God?
- - - - -
- - - - -
End of Leaving
- - - - -
- - - - -
Companion Pieces:
Prequel to Leaving
The Wind: Sequel to Leaving
http://www.geocities.com/frankie_anne