Lost and Found
Okay. It's okay. Just breathe. Nothing happened (that I know of, anyway, but I'm going to take it as a good sign). After all, this sort of thing happens all the time. Akane scowled at that last thought. This sort of thing did seem to happen with an alarming regularity.
Heartbeat still racing, the young martial artist slid silently over Ryoga's inert form and planted both feet on the floorboards. The soft creaking sound they produced made her breath catch. She waited, drowning in the sound of her heart, but the body lying in bed didn't stir.
Phew.
She allowed herself to relax slightly. After a few moments of botched attempts at breathing, Akane could feel the adrenaline dwindling away and an impressive migraine curling around her skull. She wondered, vaguely, what had transpired the night before, but the thought caused her mind to moan in protest and so she simply stopped thinking.
A calm detachment overtook her.
Ryoga would need clothes. She still had some of Ran- some of his clothing, and they would probably fit him okay; maybe a little tight, but better than nothing. She would bring him some orange juice, if the cause of this little catastrophe was what she thought it was.
What would have convinced her to, though, after… ? She derailed that train of that with as much strength as she could muster. But what, though? A face hovered just out of focus in her mind's eye, but she couldn't place it. A sharp pain shot through her brain and she put the question out of her mind.
There were plenty of other things to think of. For example, did she want to be there when he woke up?
Akane turned her head, taking in the image of an innocent, slumbering Ryoga lying halfway out of the covers with his mouth ajar. His bare chest rose and fell easily. Akane could feel a blush permeating her cheeks and she looked away.
Did she want to disturb an image like that? Part of her certainly wanted to. How dare he think to take advantage of her, getting her drunk and bringing her home to… to… whatever they did (please let it be nothing!), after all she'd been through! How dare he do that to Ukyo!
The face suddenly flashed clearer in her mind, and Akane nearly flung herself into the toilet in her haste to empty herself.
The bathroom smelled like lilacs. It was a deep, cleansing scent, that almost but not quite drove the stink of alcohol from her nostrils.
She inhaled deeply, gratefully, leaning back against the wall and staring into the bathroom mirror across from her. A healthy, well toned, yet oddly weary young woman stared back. She looked… good, in a mature, almost mysterious way. But not young, fresh and spirited. Not the Akane that boys would fight for each day.
Macho chick, built like a brick, thighs too thick…
Thud. Her heart painfully missed a beat. Shaking her head, Akane pushed those thoughts out of her mind and examined herself more closely.
The gray streak had been well hidden, she had to admit, amidst her short blue-black mane. Still, it seemed to gaze piercingly through her whenever she caught sight of her reflection. There was something almost accusatory in those few silver strands. Akane looked away.
She would have to retrieve Ryoga soon. He may have a stomach of iron, but he was still a lightweight, as far as she was concerned. The last thing she needed was a repeat of Ryoga's last drinking experience, and hers as well, for that matter.
But he deserved a little while longer. After all, Ukyo didn't close her restaurant. She burned it to the ground.
The sound of a stall door slamming against tile made her jump. Akane turned to snap at the offending young woman, but was stopped short when she caught sight of the girl's face.
She was cute, in a beautiful, masculine sort of way. Thick, rich brown locks were cropped slightly above her chin, curling forward just so to expose the creamy flesh of her ears. Her eyes, however, were wide and uncertain, like a young girl in ribbons and overalls.
"Oh my god," Akane spluttered. "U-Ukyo?" What is she doing here?
The woman's eyes widened for a split second, and Akane was certain. "Um, I'm sorry," the woman said a little too casually, "but I think you have me confused with someone? Have you, uh, been drinking?"
Akane's lip quivered only slightly. "Ukyo, I haven't touched a drop in three years."
Ukyo now looked on the verge of tears. There was resentment in her eyes, and hurt written all over her face, and suddenly, Akane felt the same wave crash over her.
Together, their arms opened and they allowed each other in. Ukyo's sobs were stormy and uncontrolled, and Akane was nearly pulled to the floor as she steadily wept, but each stood there, holding one another.
"I'm so sorry," Akane whispered. "I'm so sorry about Ryoga."
"I-I don't give a-a d-damn about that ja-jackass," Ukyo choked out, burying her face in Akane's hair. "Why w-weren't you a-a-angry? God d-damn it, if you ha-had just been a-angry, thi-things would ha-ave been…" She broke off, letting out a whimper. "N-none o-of this…"
Akane nodded her head, but said nothing. She had reached for anger, as she always had, and there was nothing for her to grasp. People had even likened her to Kasumi, of all people. It had been a dream come true to hear such praise, yes, but at the same time, it just felt completely wrong. As a young girl, that was all she wanted, the poise, the perfection, to be the ultimate flower of womanhood as Kasumi was. But the reality suffocated her, until she was no longer Akane at all. She was… empty.
Gradually, Ukyo calmed down, and Akane was pulled from her thoughts. "So. Is he with you?"
"Is who with me?" she responded. Please, please don't ask about him.
She didn't have to worry. "Ryoga." Ukyo bit the name off shortly, cheeks flushed in anger, eyes bright with tears.
Looking at Ukyo, Akane felt a welcome spike of fury, toward both herself and the lost boy she currently held in her custody. Even its brief presence was enough, she realized, to restore some of the pieces of herself she had lost. It was indescribable sensation, but she very nearly smiled at it anyway.
"The idiot's probably still out there drinking," Akane explained, gesturing toward the bathroom door where the muted sounds of a bustling bar were still wafting in. "I told him about your restaurant. He's… er, kind of a wreck."
Ukyo nodded, looking down. "He told me what happened. I'm sorry, hon. I blamed you at first… but… it was rotten from the start, wasn't it?"
"Don't say that!" Akane exclaimed, but Ukyo shook her head.
"No, it was. He's always wanted you. They've always wanted you." Akane cringed at the bitterness she heard in her voice. Ukyo continued, oblivious, "I knew that, and I jumped in anyway. I didn't swim very well, either."
"Probably not as awful as me," Akane muttered and Ukyo chuckled softly.
"Maybe not. But you and Ranma… I'm so sorry we all ruined your anniversary."
Akane blinked back more tears. "Ukyo… what happened to your hair?"
She stiffened, seeming to draw back inside of herself. "I just felt like a change, is all." Then she tilted her head to look at Akane more directly. "Sugar, I… I think you should know.
Ranchan wrote me."
…
"I'll escape out the back, hon. Please don't do anything stupid, alright? And… and take care of him…"
"Okay…"
…
"Ryoga…"
I want to get back at all of them…
Akane sat crumpled at the foot of the bed, staring into the floor. She had almost slept with Ryoga. Almost. She knew with certainty that that line hadn't been crossed, but it couldn't erase the rest of her actions. Or the 'almost'.
He woke up with her. Never anyone else.
Anger touched her shoulder, gently at first, like an old friend. She glanced back at Ryoga, and the hand tightened. It wasn't his fault. It wasn't his fault, no, but he was lying there, peaceful as death, in the place where he- where Ranma used to wake up beside her and see her face in the morning. Ranma, who had contacted Ukyo, and not her.
She had to leave this apartment. Right now.
Ukyo sighed once again. She had been pacing her hotel room that entire morning and most of the previous night as well. Heading for the door, stopping herself at the thought of what she might find. She didn't know if she could handle finding Ryoga with her again.
Someone up there must hate me, Ukyo thought miserably, glancing upward. Her first time back in Nerima after an entire year, finally ready to deal with things at her own pace, and who does she run into on the first night?
Ugh. And what had possessed her to tell Akane about the letter in the first place? The final chance to "one-up" her, once and for all, even after all of her plans to make amends? Even after saying she didn't care about Ryoga or Ranma? Was that even true? No, a tiny voice insisted. But she filed it away for later.
Watching Akane's doe-eyed face as she described the contents of the letter, Ukyo could easily say that it was the least triumphant victory she had ever experienced. All the bitterness that had resurfaced upon seeing her, one year later, had all evaporated in that instant. And so she backpedaled, saying it was proof that Ranma had always been a scumbag. But by that point, Akane probably wasn't listening. Stupid girl.
She shouldn't have left Akane alone with Ryoga in a place like that, Ukyo decided, feeling a small pang of jealousy that she roughly tossed aside. Especially not after telling her about Ranchan's letter. It seemed odd, she thought, to still think of him as Ranchan, three years after his disappearance (or "training trip", as the note had claimed) in the wake of the anniversary disaster. Four years after realizing he truly had chosen someone else. Memories of the wedding made her chest ache. Still, he was Ranchan.
That thought warmed her heart slightly.
He had wanted to meet her, the letter said. Clandestinely, not that that was the word he used. He simply "didn't want the others involved." But she couldn't do that to them, or herself; she wasn't playing that game anymore. They could all just sort this mess out without her. So she disappeared as well.
Ukyo couldn't adequately describe the feeling of watching her hair tumble to the floor that night. It would help with her disappearance, certainly, but there was also a feeling of liberation in every slice. Her hair was thick and glossy, an object of femininity, and hardly a day went by without some boy drooling over it or reaching out to touch it. Of course, she wouldn't have paid any attention; it was only Ranchan's opinion that mattered, and he never gave it a second glance, the jackass. So she hated it and cherished it. Now, she wouldn't have to do either.
Then there was her giant spatula. It had gone up in flames with the restaurant, and the locks of hair on the counter. She wouldn't be needing it anymore.
All of her burdens cast aside, she should be happy, right?
Right now, it didn't matter. If she knew Akane, which she wasn't sure if she did anymore, the girl seriously needed rescuing. She had said she was fine, and she had looked fine, more than fine, but thinking back on it, Ukyo realized her mistake. Akane was never fine when she said she was. That was a lesson Ranma had learned the hard way.
And what if she didn't like what she found? Honestly, when had she ever? Besides, it wasn't like she truly cared about what Ryoga did anymore. Or any of them, for that matter. Right. Definitely not.
But it was time to clean up her share of the mess, at least. She sighed. So much for dealing with things at my own pace.
AN: This should clear some things up, but not everything. Please review, and thanks for reading. (:
