Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 does not belong to me. It´s Takahashi-sama´s

Warning: This will be yaoi fic, thus has rather explicit content and situations, strong language and male/male interaction. Also, this is a rather angsty fic, so don't expect the usual comedy from the canon.
If you feel offended, you can always hit the "back" button.

Close to his thirties, Ranma Saotome dives into the past to revisit his life and seek what he had lost.

OOO

OBS.: Fic formerly named as Brand – The Ranma Saotome's Memorial, deleted from my profile in FFnet to be revised and revisited, as the way it was before I got stuck and, frankly, reached a point I didn't know where to go. Many things have changed, however – but I hope whoever read this may have a good time.

This fic got a sister-fic which is supposed to be read together, named Where I end and you begin (The Day Tripper). It is a prequel and a sidestory to this one.

The title comes from "Where I end and you begin" from Radiohead; as the excerpts quoted on the prologue.

Then, on with the show.

Where I end and you begin

(The Midnight Cowboy)

The Perfect Crime

"Come and take a walk on the wild side
Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain
(You like your girls insane)
Choose your last words
This is the last time
'Cause you and I, we were born to die"
Born to die – Lana del Rey

~Ranma Saotome's Journal; fifth entry.

After almost a year as a single man, I gradually set up my mind that I had to experience more contact – and that also meant sexual contact - with people, in either male of female form.

I started to hang out in clubs, and made some friends to hang out with. That was easy, I was well known as a martial artist and with some money to spend. Soon enough I discovered the wonders of parties, mild doses of alcohol and one night stands. But sometimes I grew suffocated with the attention I used to get as a guy. So, I started to party as a girl. That was fun: I would get some girl clothes, put them on and hang out. But when I partied as a girl, I use to hang out in gay-friendly clubs, in a way that people saw me as a dyke. I enjoyed that because I was a lot less harassed in such places than in regular clubs.

I gotta say – and believe me, this is not me being cocky - I was pretty much a hunk in male form, with a slender, yet well-defined muscular body, handsome face and blue eyes; and my female form grew to be a gorgeous redhead, not as short as I used to be but still well built to boot. Yet, I started to dress a lot different at that time, slowly abandoning some of my Chinese outfits in favor of more modern and good-looking ones.

As I proceeded with my experiencing, I grew to be comfortable to both men and women in foreplays and enjoying myself immensely, despite of getting laid with women only. Yet, despite all my new adventures, he was always on my mind, in everyone I made out or had sex with. The difference is that I wasn't hiding from it anymore, and it made things easier.

In some time, I was a lot better than right after my divorce. I got a penchant to hang out in gay friendly clubs as a girl, it seemed that I had my best times in places like those. At parties I used to dress a lot androgynous, relegating my Chinese shirts to teaching or training sessions only- Like a trademark of the martial artist I grew to be. But out of it, the way I dressed I could easily be taken as a femboy or a tomboy girl when in my cursed form.

However, to my folks at home, it became clear I was experiencing with my curse and was attracted to and women and men, to my mother's despair. Pops didn't seem to mind, though, as long as I kept fighting and practicing the Art. Until then I only used to have sex with girls, now both as male and female, but that was less and less a taboo in my head. Really, the main reason that I didn't do guys is that this particular activity seemed to remind me of him the most.

On one idly night, I went party at a new cool place in my girl form, because as a female I felt more comfortable to make out with boys and girls, and that was real fun to me. However, it wasn't a gay bar – clearly friendly to that, but also attended by straight people as well. I was dressed in a rather androgynous way, but with loose hair. I took a seat on the balcony of the bar; and since I gave myself some vacations from heavy training because I didn't have any major match in sight, I was really intending to get drunk, or get laid, luckily both.

And there I was, drinking my booze and minding my own business, when a very good-looking guy dressed in tight button shirt, vest and dark skinny jeans sit by my side. He had loose straight pitch-black hair almost to his waist, and a slender but well-toned body who told me he must work out a good bit, or be into some kind of sport. Also, somewhat feminine but very attractive face: slender features, pale skin, dark eyes, pouty lips. Looked like a trendy version of Konatsu, but much less girlish because he didn't seem to wear makeup and he wasn't dressing as a girl. However, his clothes, despite masculine, also did little to blatantly remark him as a guy. By his body language, though, I'd not pick him as straight.

Not that I particularly have the hots for femboys, but can't deny I considered maybe it should be a good idea dousing myself on hot water in the bathroom's club.

"Hey, you alone?" He asked me, and by the look in his eyes he seemed interested. Even better, though.

"Uh, yeah."

"Oh, okay if I stay here while I wait for my folks?"

"Sure, baby, suit yourself." I was already a little tipsy by then. "What's your name?"

"Yuri Kyione" He answered with a crooked smile. "You?"

I never gave my real name in my female form, what's the point? "Kaori Ono"

"You hang out around here very often?"

"No, it's my first time here. But I hang out a quite lot in places like this."

"So, Kaori, what do you do for a living?"

"I'm a martial artist and mixed martial arts instructor." His name was nagging in the back of my head. It was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. "You?"

"I'm a photographer." Then my mind cleared a bit, as I recalled where I knew this name from: it was the photographer that made that fashion editorial I saw in the internet.

"Uh, I guess I already saw one fashion editorial you made! Congratulations, pretty good material"

"Thanks!"

"And the model was a gorgeous babe, by the way. Any chance that she's one of your friends you're waiting for?" Okay, I was really really tipsy.

"Hahahahaha, lessee…" The crooked smile returned with a mischievous glint on his eyes that lasted for just a second. "Interested in chicks, you?"

"And who isn't, pal?"

"Have to agree on that." He gave me a good-hearted laugh. "You sure a lot of fun, Kaori. Mind if you could join us? We're kind of new in town and you're a really good company."

"Hey, thanks. Who are them you're waiting for?"

"Huh, those guys over there." He raises his hand, waving to two other guys who were walking in. "And… eh, sorry, no chicks."

"Nah, I don't discriminate that much." And then I checked on said friends.

One was obviously gaijin: tall, short light brown hair, light colored eyes. Not bad looking, but too gaijin for my tastes. However he had a nice muscular build, and by the way he moved I picked him as someone who practiced martial arts. The other one, however, really caught my attention: Hot muscular body like the other, but a much better looker: straight short dark hair with heavy bangs almost covering his light eyes, slender nose, sculpted chin and cheekbones, a sexy and well delineated mouth; could be a model or something. I felt heavily attracted by the second I laid my eyes on him.

Yuri stood to present them both. Despite the drinking and the dim light of the club, there was something really nagging in the back of my head. The dark haired guy seemed familiar.

"Huh, guys, this is Kaori Ono, funny chick I just met." I flashed my best welcome grin as they approached. Yuri continued. "These two are my partners in crime- I mean, we're setting a photo studio here."

My mind was processing things very slowly, thanks to the alcohol. I decided to get a grip on the booze. Photo studio…

Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle got all together. Photo studio. Yuri Kyione. Hunkiest guy I ever seen in a long time, oddly familiar. He looks back to me, smiling and showing his elongated teeth with slightly proeminent fangs.

When realization hit me, I got dead sober.

"Kaori, these are my friends John Lemos and Ryoga Hibiki."

"Hey, Kaori." The gaijin said in good Japanese, but with a heavy accent.

"Hey." Ryoga greeted me, still smiling politely, not showing any signs of recognition so far.

It's no wonder I didn't recognize him at first. Ryoga changed a good bit: He surely used to be a good-looking boy, but in no way you could tell back then that he would be as gorgeous as he is now. To say that his development saved his best for last is an understatement.

Back in our teenage years, he used to be very gullible and fall for all my disguises. That was then. I knew I also changed a good bit, but I wasn't exactly in a disguise. I wanted so bad that he didn't recognize me now. Even more, I was praying that he couldn't see what he was doing to me.

"Hiya!" My legs turned into jelly. I leaned in the balcony, trying my very best to act casual and conceal the fact that I was trembling violently.

Ryoga continues to stare at me, his eyes carrying an unprecedented intensity. Sure, he always had these soulful eyes, and they are as beautiful as ever. But they've changed. They're still intense, but not as readable as they used to be, since the ever present rage is gone, as is also the desperate sadness we could see when the rage wasn't there for some reason. The sadness evolved for strong hints of something that resembles a kind of melancholic resignation that makes him cuter than ever.

Yuri leans to greet him, and holds him by the waist in a way that let me know they were close, very close. No straight man would let another guy touch him like that. My mind was spinning, trying to analyze whatever I can. And he was looking at me again.

"Why, Ryoga… Something wrong with me?" I asked in the best sly tone I could muster, but praying inwardly to not listen a 'Ranma, is that you' answer.

"You seem to look really familiar."

I froze inside.

"Yah, yah, everybody say that. I must have a pretty common face."

"Actually you don't" His eyes were burning me. All I could think at the moment was that I must find a way out of this. Fast. "You seem anything but common."

"Ohh, that was a compliment, Kaori." Yuri giggled. "They're not so easy to come from this man."

"Oh, thank you, sir." I bowed in mock demure.

"You welcome." He leaned a little closer to the balcony. I tried to get all the information I can about him, and divert the situation from me.

"So, you're a hot shot photographer just like our friend Yuri, right?"

"Miles away from hot shot, but yeah, I am a photographer."

"Must be really exciting, huh?"

"It has its ups and downs."

"Aw, c'mon, what could be a down? Lots of traveling, good paychecks…"

"Spoiled people, stupid fashion parties, dealing with some really annoying people… But I do like the ups better than I dislike the downs." He sat beside me on the bar, called the bartender with a wave and ordered a bottle of scotch. "What would you like to have?"

"Uh, nothing really, I had a little bit too much already."

"And isn't it a good thing?" He flashed me another warm look, and then giggled.

"Kaori, would you mind sharing the bottle with him... Please?" John got himself in the middle of our talk. "This twit likes booze a bit too much for his own good."

"Hey!"

"Don't 'hey' me, pal, we're new in town and you're the one supposed to guide us here."

"Fine, fine…" I was laughing, much more to the idea of Ryoga guiding those guys around the city than anything else. "I'll share a bottle with him."

He poured himself a glass of whiskey and handed another one to me. As I looked around, Yuri and the other guy were happily chatting and entertaining themselves with one another. I tried to drink my shot slowly, and I couldn't help to notice that he was almost finishing his one.

"Uh, thirsty, hm?"

"Yeah, a little." He poured himself another one, as I kept thinking my best shot to keep my disguise was to have him drunk and not paying too much attention on me.

"What about the models? I thought models would be on the ups, not on the downs."

"You got me on that: I don't like models very much, that's more Yuri's thing. I'd rather shoot landscapes, documentaries and stuff."

"So what do you like about what you do?"

"I have a flexible schedule; it gives me time for my hobbies. Traveling is something I enjoy a lot, too." For hobbies I got his martial arts training. His stance showed that he's still the martial artist he used to be before; and my bet is he's gotten even better. But this would be an obviously dangerous issue to bring on, it could really bust me.

"Speaking of hobbies," Yuri cut in. "Ryoga, you won't guess what she does for a living."

"Does it have to do with dance or martial arts?"

"I'm a martial arts instructor…" My heart was pounding inside my chest, since I know this is a very dangerous territory to me; but I wasn't playing innocent. "My stance gave me in, right?"

"Yeah, and as far as I'm concerned you must be a really good one." He answered with a smirk. Red hair, martial artist… I prayed all the gods I knew to keep him from connecting the dots and bust me.

"You don't seem to be half bad yourself." I poked him at his side playfully. "I'd say even a really good one. Wonder how you keep this alter ego of you."

"Hum, I used to be a wandering martial artist when I was a teenager; I guess old habits die hard." He looked rather uncomfortable.

"Wandering?"

"Y'know, he may be the most badass fighter I've ever seen in action, but he has the uncontestable worst sense of direction of the world." The other guy, John, cut in. "In college, he used to carry a GPS tracker everywhere he went. Even to the bathroom, I'd say."

"Hey, Lemos!" He cut his friend in irritation. I smiled inwardly; getting to relax me a little more. Like if I didn't know who used to be Ryoga Hibiki, who could manage to get lost inside of a fucking closet.

"Okay, okay." He turned to me. "But fear not, Kaori. He's got so used to follow the GPS tracker he actually got a sense of direction on his own. Lousy as fuck, but better than nothing. But he still carries the GPS thingie with him all the time, just in case."

"Hey! It's integrated to my phone, you know." Ryoga protested. John seemed to be funny. In other times I could tell him a story or two about the old Lost Boy.

"Oh, and there's the problem I told you about him and booze." John went on. "When he gets drunk he gets all sad and whiny, then loses his sense of direction AND can't operate the GPS thing. In this case, dear Kaori, we trust you to bring him home safe and sound, or God knows where the Hell he might show up. If he can give you the right directions, that is." We all burst into laughter, as Ryoga fumed. And in his fuming I could see a glimpse of the Ryoga I used to know.

"Don't you worry, mister. You're safe with me." I told him in a sultry tone.

"Okay, now that everybody had fun on my expense, let's please drop this?" He's still fuming, and knowing him as I used to I took the lead we all should stop this right now.

"Calm down, dude, we're just kidding." Yuri clutched his arm, brushing his fingers on it and then whispering something to Ryoga.

What the heck was this guy doing, touching him like that?

"Kid me not, you guys." Ryoga said, still a little mad.

Yuri smirked while asking for another drink.

"There's a nice bunch of pals you've got, man…" I observed to him, as the other two kept talking on their own.

"Ah, yes. But they have this thing for picking on me, though."

"How did you meet them?"

"College. Johnny over there was my roommate when I moved out of my parents. I met him through my old coach, back in LA. He used to be into martial arts too, until he blew up his knee. Today… The bastard is a prick, you see, but he's like the brother I never had."

"Your coach?" I'd also never imagine him with a coach. I mean, Ryoga training in a gymnasium with a coach on his hair?

"Um-" He took another large gulp of his shot. "Yeah. While I was in college, I used to be into mixed martial arts competitions… You know, college jock. John was pretty much like that, too, and he had the same coach as me. Hard times, but it helped me through college's tuition just fine, though."

"But Coach Hal made our life hell, that bastard." John butted in. "At least, that was what Ryoga here used to say every single day. Didn't you, Ryoga?"

"Fuck you, John." Ryoga rolled his eyes. "Not that the Coach was innocent, but you are an even bigger pain in my ass, for fuck's sake."

"Don't mind them, Kaori…" Yuri rolled his eyes. "Johnny's being such an annoyance because he's clearly jealous of you. Which brings me to ask why he's seeing you as a threat."

"I am not! This is a blatant lie from your distorted mind, Yuri." John said with mock indignation.

"Ah! I gotta ask: John, how is it you speak Japanese?"

"My father's company transferred him to Tokyo when I was eight, and we lived here until I was fifteen. Then he moved to L.A."

"But, as you can see, he never managed to get rid of this horrific accent." Yuri snorted. "I mean, I know this guy since forever and he always spoke like a wild-west american sheriff."

"Ah?"

"Yeah, yeah." John rolled his eyes. "Yuri here is my sister's best friend, and we used to take martial arts classes at the same Dojo as I did when I used to live here. And, after I moved back to L.A., he eventually moved there too, to take his fashion and design degree."

"Martial arts, you?" I turned to Yuri, surprised for not picking him as a martial artist before.

"Gotta do him justice" John answered me. "Femboy here's not your average fighter, but he used to be amazing at that back on our teens. Before he quit it all, went nuts and fled from Japan, that is."

"It was ages ago." Yuri raised a cryptic eyebrow. Then he noticed my amusement. "I mean, I still practice then and there and keep my black-belt god-knows-how, but nothing even close to what Ryoga here calls 'keeping up'. I mean, geez, the dude trains his ass off almost as if he was going to have a big match anytime soon; diet and all."

"Whoa" That I definitely could picture in my head. "And how on earth you guys ended into photography, then?"

"I always been kinda die-hard for fashion, art and photography, and always wanted to make a life out of it." Yuri smirked. "The martial art stuff used to be a gig for my family. I mean, it's cool and all, but I'd never, ever live off of that – no offense, honey…"

"Not taken." I replied, and he went on.

"Anyway. Despite Coach 'Hell' and all, John was into arts and photography as much as me. You see, he's the thug with the camera, but he's got a really good eye for photos and digital editions – he's not his sister's brother over nothing. And through him we've got Ryoga. We rescued the guy from being an engineer, the poor thing. This, or he would be one of those cage fighters in UFC or something. A destiny Johnny Boy here missed by a fucked up knee, to what Mommy Lemos thanks Heaven to this date. Not that he isn't currently trying to finish said knee off training just as much as Ryoga, but at least he had to quit the competitions."

As Yuri entered the chatting and started to talk about how he hurt his knee to the point of getting him out of professional fighting, he monopolized John; and Ryoga was all mine again. It's funny how I caught myself wanting him to pay attention on me, despite my situation. I was nervous, my hands were cold; but I was managing to act natural.

"But, hey" I giggled, while the other two retreated bickering about something. "You don't seem to have a bad knee like John. Did you just decide to stop fighting in the circuit, then?"

"Tournaments and official matches? For now, I think. I like photoshooting better, I guess. So does John, despite his knee and all…"

"And what about Yuri? I dig he's a friend of John's…" I really worked up my nerve here, but I was curious. I mean, I am a martial artist, part of my job on it is reading people's moves; and the way the Yuri guy moved around him…

"He went to the same college as me and always been around him, but it took me a while to get to know him better." He was slurring a bit, but still I could sense he was keeping something from me. "Uh… may I ask you something personal?"

"Sure."

"What were you asking Yuri about, before?"

"Ah, I once saw a photo shoot he did, the chick was really something. I kinda asked him if she was among the friends he was waiting for."

"Oooh… Then, if you're interested on chicks…" He averted his eyes to the bar, his expression unreadable. Then he looked at me, a little uneasy. "I mean, I shouldn't really ask you this, but…" He trails off, as if to think about a better way to ask me what he wants. I realized what he wants to know.

"I see. I swing both ways, y'know." I couldn't get him to think that I wasn't interested. I mean, it was the chance of a lifetime, right? Then a part of my mind told me I couldn't be serious.

"And you are… Straight?" I worked up my nerve. I mean, he sure wasn't paying attention to other guys, but still the way Yuri touched him seemed too much for 'just friends'. Nonetheless, the name bothered him a bit.

"Let's say, I like people."

"That's a really nice definition."

"Yeah, I worked on that in my mind for a while." He seemed a little pensive, and then he gave me a deep look, his eyes more beautiful than ever.

"Now" I leaned closer, so close that I'm just a couple inches away from him, and whispered in his ear. "I really like to be here, with you."

My breath faltered as I said that. I could feel his scent, which I remember so well. He was using a perfume, a really good one, but his scent was there, beneath the smell of smoke from the club, his perfume and my own. It had the same devastating effect as years ago. My mind was screaming at me I shouldn't do that, I really shouldn't. "What if he finds it out?", I kept thinking, but that other part of my mind that was so affected cooed to me "what if he doesn't?"

He leaned his head on my direction, saying nothing.

I raised my hands and cup his face and kissed him. At first I just brushed my lips on his, feeling an electric jolt at the contact. I pressed my lips harder, he embraced me with his strong arms and held me close as he forced my mouth open and deepened the kiss. I've kissed quite a few people already, but nothing was like that one. He doesn't just look good and smell good. He tastes even better, even with the aftertaste of scotch on him. And he is an incredible kisser. If I had the chance to do it earlier, I would've gladly given myself up to him and to the hell with anything else. We continued to kiss, over and over again, his strong arms clutching me, as I felt his muscles beneath his clothes. Nothing I ever felt in my life was like this.

"Wouldn't you like to go somewhere else?" My voice was hoarse with arousal.

"Are you sure?" He nibbled my neck with his nose, but his tone seemed oddly concerned.

"Yes."

"Would you mind going to my place?"

"Not at all… And your friends…"

"They're big boys, they can handle themselves…"

We fled the club and took a cab to his place, a small loft close to my own. As we got there, we started to kiss again, and all of a sudden I could see ourselves taking each other clothes off. As my hands touched his body, as his hands went through mine, we shared steaming kisses that were setting my soul on fire. Hands down, that was the most erotic thing I've ever shared with anyone, and that were just foreplays.

His body was a state of art; as tall as my male form, slightly tanned, muscular, well-defined and slender, he was more beautiful than I ever imagined him to be. I could feel the shiver in his skin as he touched and kissed me, he's enjoying this as much as I am. And Gods, he knows how to touch a girl. Somewhere in the back of my head, I wondered how the naïve nosebleeding Ryoga I used to know turned out to be a lover like this. I felt him laying me on his bed, as he undressed the rest of his clothes. He was moving gracefully; his muscles tantalizing their power within. I touched him; in a way I know he'd never allow me to, and felt his hands on my body in a way he'd never do to me. And it felt good. Fantastic, really.

A part of my mind, however, kept screaming in my head, pleading me to stop. "This is so wrong" it screamed at me, saying he needs to know I am… Ranma. Not some chick. Not some ordinary one-time gig from a random party at a club.

But there he was; setting me on fire by kissing and nibbling my neck, then my collarbone, then lowering his attentions to my breasts and then lower and lower, until he's going down on me. And, boy, it was good. I'd done it already to some chicks to wonder on how good it might be, but never let someone try it on me, until now. He didn't disappoint a bit, and made me moan and scream in pleasure several times in a row. Then I turned him onto his back and straddled him to get him inside of me. For the very first time in my life I had someone in me, I didn't care one bit. I felt no pain at all, conditioned by ignore pain as I've been, and the awkward sensation of being full gave place to something much better. And I rode him, harder as the pleasure grew with the need, and I started to make it rougher on pure instinct. He was also melting under my attentions, I felt him tremble slightly while he grabs my hips and force me to move roughly up and down and then raising his back to sit down and kiss me. And his face, flushed with parted lips while panting in my mouth, was even more stunning than in my wildest dreams of him. Every other time I'd experienced something like this it would remind me of him, but not this time. Not with this intensity, not even close. This time, he was there.

Words can't really do it justice.

It took all my stamina to stay awake, as he recovered to start it all over again. We did it several times more; I let him make me his plaything, as he let me make him mine. I never, ever shared such abandon, such intimacy with anyone else. This was the thing that marked my soul so many years ago, so deeply that it wouldn't disappear, or even fade. It was there every time I dared to look inside of me. I fought against it, because of the obligations and duties which were imposed on me, and lost. Then I fought a hard battle against myself to demolish the image that was constructed for me, and reinvent myself in my own terms. And, when I was ready, fate put him back on my life.

As we wore ourselves out and he drifted to sleep, I remained awake to look at him. And, gods, he's beautiful. He changed a lot, but now, asleep by my side, with his arms around me, he looked almost like that Ryoga of years ago. My fingers brushed his face, as if trying to memorize his features; and his skin felt incandescent under my touch.

What I felt then, I never dared to name it. Lust, infatuation, obsession, I don't know. I just knew it was strong, strong enough to be called even… love. I shivered to this thought. Was it love, all this time? If so, how could I keep living, that I finally had him?

I knew I had to make a decision, I wasn't just some chick he met at a club, was I? No, I'm a guy, a guy who was also a girl, but a guy nonetheless. Even worse, I'm not a random guy, I'm Ranma. How would he deal with this? If he knew who I was, would he do it? I locked my gaze to his face. What now? Could I live without this? Could I live without him? Would he want me if he knew who I am?

Of course not.

I spent hours looking at him in his sleep, fearing the time I'd have to leave and go home, because then… I'd never see it again. When my time came, I leaned to kiss him, and he stirred, opening his eyes slowly. As he saw me, he gave a lazy smile.

"Hello…"

I smiled back to him. He put his arm around me, and pulled me close to him, leaving a trail of kisses from my head to my lips. I snuggled myself on his embrace, knowing that soon I'll have to leave, but, oh, I wanted to stay…

I couldn't keep this travesty for long.

"Hey, listen…" I kissed him lightly on his lips over and over again while I tried to stand up and then grab my stuff. "I gotta go… But I'll leave the curtains shut, you sure deserve your rest."

He frowned a bit, still sleepy. I was dressing myself fast while fighting a lump on my throat; suddenly afraid the dawn would bust my cover.

"Hey, Kaori…"

"Yeah?" I turned to face him from his room's door.

"Can I see you again?"

I was barely breathing; the lump on my throat more painful than any kick, any blow I ever got, even from him. His scent was all over the room, and everywhere in my mind.

I knew better than that. I knew this was bound to not last.

"Sure, baby. Give me your number, I'll call you."

OOO

To the footnotes and rambled reports:

This is it, people - all the former chapters came to explain how this could happen - so what's next, now?

Stay tuned!

Human Being, 02/27/2014