I do not own Ranma ½.

Just a man.

That is all he was and yet, if you asked those that knew him, they would say that's the furthest thing from the truth. They would tell you that he was more than just a man, something better, something to aspire to. Yet, still just a man. With a man's weaknesses and boundaries.

Ranma Saotome, heir to the School of Indiscriminate Grappling. With everything that had happened to him since he had returned to his homeland, many people thought he would be making a name for himself, but sadly even though his spark burned brightly while it could, it was bound to go out.

Ranma knew he was dying. He could feel it in every breath he took. The next one slightly more ragged than the last, the next step slightly less surer. He hid it well, no one seemed to notice, even as they trekked back to Nerima from Jusendo. He had said he loved her, and he had meant it, but not in the way she hoped. He didn't care about any of them that way, not really. He saw it in her eyes when she looked at him when she thought he wouldn't notice. The others were more open, the hope shinning in their eyes as they talked to him.

It wasn't that he didn't want to reciprocate, more than anything he wished he could with any of them. Unfortunately for them all, he didn't spend enough time with any of them long enough to know how he felt about them. Akane, well he had started getting to know her before Shan Pu appeared, but with everything that happened around them on a constant basis, it was hard to say what he really knew about her.

So when he awoke wearing a tux locked in a room with a wedding dress clad Akane, he let things progress as they would. Did he fight over the Drowned Boy water? Yes, if nothing else then to save those around him, remembering what happened when Taro gave himself tentacles. Who invited everyone? Well, if he were honest he wouldn't deny it. Though it looked like one the guests will be arriving late.

After Akane slammed her into the ground with that mallet of hers, Ranma looked around her from her place on the floor. Yes, everyone around her was arguing, but they were here. They would get this memory, this last memory. He knew they would be sad in the morning, sorrow something he would be unable to prevent.

She saw Ku Lon and Happosai looking at her with concern and flashed them a sad smile catching Nabiki's attention, hoping to convey her regret. She hadn't wanted it to come to this but time was running out and she wanted to say her goodbyes in the best way she knew how. She only had one more goodbye to give and she hoped to stay long enough to give it. Ranma stood and walked out to the Koi pond and sat so she could watch the fish swimming.

Reaching down into her tux, Ranma pulls out a flask of hot water. If this is going to be it, she wants to die as she was born. After returning to his birth gender, he watches the fish dance in the water of the pond. He hears someone approaching, and turns to see Ku Lon and Happosai.

"Elder, Master. How can I help you?"

Momentarily shocked by the formal address, Ku Lon askes, "How long do you have? And don't lie to me son in law, I've known since we arrived back in Japan." Ranma looks up to the stars and says, "Hours, no later than sunrise, as cliché as that sounds." He looked over towards the dojo, "I know they won't like this, but there is nothing any of them can do and they would never accept that. I pushed my limits, hell I shattered them to save them, at Jusendo and before. All those adventures, well I don't think I have anything left for one more." Moving his head to search the rooftops for someone, he says "I only have one more goodbye to make and then I'll write my poem. If you wish to stay or not, I only wish that I could truly express my gratitude for everything you both have given me."

When he sees her, it only as a shadow, standing on the roof of the main house. The elders look up as they see the recognition in his eyes and nod as they walk into the living room, content to watch from a distance. As she silently approaches him, she can see how less of him there is. She can see how much of himself he has left on the field of battle and how he is slowly fading. Stepping into the light shining from the house, Kaori Daikokuji took in the form of her friend, her confidant, her...well she wasn't sure what.

Ranma smiled at her, even though he could see tears marring her face. She approaches and collapses next to him. She wants to pound him and make him fight, she wants to hold him and sob like a child. She wants to tempt him and convince him to stay. In the end though, she does none of these things. She just sighs and grasps his hand. They talk for a while, conversing about inconsequential things, then Ranma says, "Thank you Kaori. I didn't expect you to write back after I sent the first letter, but you did and we started talking back and forth and we could open up to one another and even if we never talked face to face I could tell you things I couldn't tell others, 'cause I knew you wouldn't judge me. Thank you for listening to me when no one else would. I know it's not tradition, but could you help me write my poem?"

Kaori smiled sadly and nodded her head, retrieving the paper and calligraphy brush left nearby, presumably from one of the elders. He sat there for a while, thinking about the words he wished to leave and eventually turned to his secret friend.

I do not want this

The battle between us all

Let it be no more

She wrote his poem, and sat with him as he faded from the world just before sunrise. She lay him on the stones surrounding the pond, ensuring that someone would notice and placed his last words to the world on his chest. She then departed, looking back only once at the man she felt knew her better than anyone else in the world.

Kasumi found him an hour later, still as the water next to him. Her cry was heard throughout the house and everyone came running. In the days to come, many things changed in Nerima, the amazons left for home, somber and lamenting lost opportunities. The others went about their lives, dimmer though their worlds were for their loss. Every year, they honor him on Obon, reminding themselves of all that he did for them, to them, and with them. He wasn't perfect, he had his faults as everyone does.

He was just a man.

AN: I know it's been a long time since I've put pen to paper as it were, but this came to me and the muse wouldn't let me sleep until it was done. So I apologize if this doesn't flow properly or if there is something here you don't like. Thank you all for reading.