Lost and Found

"Ranma."

…

"Akane?"

She opened her eyes to meet a pair of piercing sapphires staring back at her. She blinked, and blinked again, trying to will the haziness away. The eyes before her seemed guarded, almost cold, and yet concern shone through like sunlight through the curtains, and the color was so familiar and soothing. Something warm and rough brushed her forehead, hypnotizing her. The haziness was overwhelming, and she stopped struggling. Her eyes fluttered shut again.

He was asleep in the chair across the room the next time she awoke. She could hear his raucous snores, and greedy eyes snapped open wide to drink in the sight of him. It was nighttime, the window pulled open, moonlight washed over his tan skin. He sat, slumped over the chair like a discarded jacket, wearing his usual Chinese shirt and arm bracers, his hair slightly longer and face more chiseled and – was that stubble? – but really, she thought, it was almost as if he had never left. He looked as if he had been frozen in time on that final day that they spent together, never changing, while time had continued to eat away at her.

Time. She sighed, eyes caught in the dip of muscle between his shoulder and his arm, wondering how far apart they'd grown. How long had it even been now? The number of years escaped her. Three, she thought, 36 long and lonely months. These last few days had been the only exception, and even then, she could constantly feel the rift between her friends and herself. Poor, weak little Akane who couldn't take care of herself; was it out of friendship or pity that Shampoo and Ukyo had folded her back under their wings? Or a combination of both?

And Ranma. What was he doing here?

She had expected a rush of adrenaline, a scream of surprise, even fainting, but the drugs must have really been doing their job. She could only observe his sleeping form with a casual detachment, a muted roar in her ears as her pitiful thoughts of the last few days jumbled together. Ukyo. Shampoo. Love. Lust. Regret. Ranma. Happiness. It was like being in the kitchen, she thought, unable to read the labels of the ingredients, not sure of the recipe, trying to spice things up because it all seemed so boring, all of her childhood cooking catastrophes that had resulted in nothing but tears and frustration.

The ceiling seemed to churn to the rhythm of her ex-husband's heartbeat. Ranma. The ease of the name, singing in her ears and curling on the tip of her tongue, amazed her. The name she had avoided for so long because it brought back the memories of her failure.

"Ranma," she said aloud, testing it.

And suddenly, he stirred.

He stared at her, eyes still foggy with sleep, and she stared back, and he sighed and clutched his scalp with one hand as if aggravated.

She didn't know what to say to him. She wanted to apologize, to explain her erratic thoughts (or at least give it her best attempt) and to explain that she had finally got it all sorted out and he really was what she wanted after all, even if it meant having to give up her life of independence, because now she knew what it was like to be without him and she just couldn't stand it. But she was too young then, they were both too young to settle down before having even tasted the world; except now she had, and it was so bitter and dark, and she just wanted him back with her to stay.

Akane had always thought he would be the one to walk out. His room always so austere, things packed as if to leave in a moment's notice. That he would be the one to give in to the temptation of something new, and different, and to have second thoughts about the life he'd chosen.

But that simple kiss, and the realization that the lips she was tasting, as tainted with alcohol as they were, were not those of her husband's (and some small part of her did know, and liked it, she was sure of it)… that was enough for her to beat him to the punch. To ruin them.

But Akane didn't say any of this. She stared at him until the tears spilled from her eyes, but she didn't turn away, even as her breath hitched and her back shuddered with every restrained sob.

He had tried to move on, she knew; both Ukyo and Shampoo had let the cat out of the bag when they mentioned the letters. He must have wanted to find the real girl of his dreams. Because, well, hadn't she made it clear that it couldn't be her? That thought made her cry harder.

They stayed that way until she had exhausted herself of all tears, and Ranma quietly lifted himself up and padded to the window.

Somehow, she knew. She knew that if he leapt out of that window and into the darkness, that that fleeting image would be the last she saw of him, because he was waiting for it, he was waiting for her to say the words. Ranma would only stay if she asked him to. And even then, would he? After her indecisiveness had sent him away? Would he believe that she had finally touched ground and knew, with all certainty, what she wanted?

He glanced back at her as he reached the window, and they locked eyes. Her lips were parted as if to speak, but no words came out. She felt like she was drowning. Why couldn't she do this? Was this what Ranma had gone through, trying to confess? But they had already gone through this once! She could do it again! She could!

Come on, Akane!

His form disappeared through the window.

…

…

Akane flung herself from the bed, IV ripped from her skin, eyes wild and hair flying crazily about her skull, mouth still gaping, feeling that something finally snap inside of her like a rush of cold air in her lungs. All she knew was that she had to reach the windowsill right that instant. Nothing else mattered except the open window just across the room.

She had only taken a single step before a hot flare of pain shot through her leg and she let out a strangled cry. "Ah!" Her body crumpled against her will, and she tried vainly to scramble across the floor to the open window. But she wasn't going to make it, Akane knew with dreadful certainty. Already the pain was dulling her vision, blackness seeping along the edges, and he had probably already vanished into the night and she would never see him again.

"Ranma!" she cried, feeling fresh, hot tears running down her face. Her leg throbbed with cold fury, and she could now feel a dull pain in her lower back and arms. The painkillers were wearing off…?

And suddenly strong arms were holding her, supporting her, carrying her back to her bed. In what felt like only a few moments, more arms were running over her body. The needle was quickly replaced, she registered vaguely. "Please stay," she mumbled, "please please stay." The blackness was quickly overtaking her. Something seemed vitally important, but she couldn't think what. She repeated herself a few times, the words not making sense, the world slowly fading, and then nothing made sense anymore.

The next night she awoke, he was back again.

Her harsh, relieved sobs woke him, and he was at her side in an instant, shushing her and scowling.

She proceeded to tell him all about her dreams of fire, and of being a little doll trapped in a burning house, and his expression darkened even further but he said nothing.

The night after that, she found him looming over her, deep in thought.

Without thinking, she reached out to pull him down to her face. Her lips searched for his, but he pulled away, disappearing through the window. She whispered, out loud, all of the things she couldn't say to his face for fear of his rejection, finishing with a hushed "I love you".

The next time, he didn't pull away.

The fire had made the news, seeing as it had resulted in the capture of the man responsible for those assaults. Akane's name had been included in the list of those involved, and injured, at the scene. She assumed that was how Ranma had found out about the incident, but why that would have prompted him to check up on her, she didn't know and probably never would.

When she was finally released from the hospital, all of her family was there to greet her, but he wasn't among them. She had scanned eagerly for his face among those gathered, but was met with disappointment.

Still, her family had seemingly put aside their disapproval of her and her shameful actions for just this one moment, and that was enough to warm her heart for the time being. Her father cried openly. Kasumi smiled with a misty gleam in her eyes. There was a single bandage around her arm and a hefty amount of cuts and bruises, but she was otherwise unscathed. She, along with Shampoo, had been rescued quickly. Only Mousse and Akane had been caught in the crossfire of the collapsing building.

Nabiki quickly looked her youngest sister over with calculating eyes and nodded to herself, shoulders sagging with visible relief.

They all came to hug her, careful of her injuries and, in Kasumi's case, her own. Akane leaned into each of their embraces, craving the touch of her family, and decided it would have to be enough.

The scars on her arms faded somewhat, but her back was still a mess, and she would have to undergo physical therapy for a while. There would be no dancing in her near future, or martial arts, to her disappointment.

Kasumi and their father had moved in with Shampoo for the time being, while Nabiki and Akane had both returned to their respective homes. Ukyo and Shampoo had rushed to her side as soon as they heard the news of her return to Nerima, with Ryoga conspicuously absent. The question was only half-voiced, Shampoo frowning and Akane looking concerned, before Ukyo shushed the both of them with a wave of her hand and a pained smile. She told them that all hope wasn't lost, and that was all she would say on the subject.

Mousse was awaiting trial, as all of the victims of the attacks had prosecuted. That was a topic that had been wisely avoided.

Shampoo promised that her family would be taken care of, easing Akane's anxieties. She felt she owed too much to Shampoo already, especially Kasumi's safety, but this concern was waved away with Shampoo's tinkling laughter.

Ukyo didn't hang around for very long, unable to stomach being in Nerima for extended periods of time.

Very soon, Akane was all alone again.

She left the window open out of habit now, not because she actually expected him to return.

It was just a stupid ritual of hers.

She sighed, slipping into her pajama pants and tugging the silky top over her head. Akane fixed her reflection with a hard look. The silver streak was there to stay, evidently, and somehow seemed even more prominent now than it had before. Dark circles marred the flesh under her eyes, and she had lost the color that always tinted her cheeks in her youth. Yet there was still something of the old Akane there, she decided, lifting her shirt to examine her breasts. Yes, that insecurity was still present. Her hair may be longer, her hips and bust slightly fuller, but she'd never completely lost that athletic, tomboyish look. Still the same Akane.

She sighed, tugging her shirt down with one hand, and that was when she noticed it in the reflection.

A black pigtail flicking quickly out of sight.

Her heart nearly stopped right then and there.

Was she imagining things, now?

"Ranma?" she called hesitantly, stepping out into the hallway. No one there.

"Ranma?"

She frowned, once again receiving no answer. It was official; she was losing it.

And that's when he sheepishly stepped into view, having escaped into her bedroom, and she could only stand there and gawk as he scratched the back of his head and looked away.

"Your window was open," he offered.

"Ranma?" she asked dumbly, and for the third time. She blushed. Was that all she could say? Really? She tried for something more complex. "What are you doing here?"

Did that sound accusatory? Oh gods she was already fucking this up. Her heart was pounding like crazy. He cleared his throat then, and suddenly she was hanging on his every world.

"I… you told me not ta' leave," Ranma said slowly, looking her in the eye. She swallowed. "And I, uh, thought about it? And, well, that was somethin' that you wanted. It wasn't what I… wanted to hear, but it was a start. So I-I figured we were makin' progress."

He sounded so anxious, like the first time he confessed, and she furrowed her eyebrows at him in confusion. What did he have to be nervous about?

"… Akane?"

"Uh?"

"Do you want me ta' leave?"

She blinked. Was he that concerned about what she wanted? Now, of all times?

"All this time, I thought I was doin' what was best for you. But now, I'm just completely lost here… After I left, I thought about it, you know? And I sent letters ta' try to break everythin' off with all the other girls so they wouldn't get any ideas, but they never responded, and I thought by then you were all so angry with me that none of you wanted anythin' ta' do with me because I'd walked out on you." Well, Shampoo had said something like that, but that had only been to cheer her up. They all knew the truth... But...

"You… walked out on me?"

He stared at her, now equally confused. "Er, yeah?"

She stuttered helplessly. "But, Ranma… I… with Ryoga… and then I couldn't even apologize for it! You can't expect someone to stay with a girl who doesn't even know if she wants to be there!" She shook her head vehemently. "You didn't walk out! You didn't, Ranma!"

"But I did! I should've waited, should've trusted you to sort it all out and for us ta' make up like we always do…"

"But what if I hadn't? Who'd want to stay in a relationship like that?"

Ranma stepped forward, voice rising fiercely. "I would! 'Cuz I'd 've been with you, and we would'a worked it out together! I left you alone like that! Why should you have to go through a-a midlife crisis by yourself, huh?"

"A… a what?"

"It was a… term… I heard while I was travelin' around…"

"Um, Ranma, we were only twenty-one then…"

"So that's not right?"

"Uh, no."

"Well, then what was your deal?"

Akane smiled at his helpless look. Three years, they'd both been through hell, all because they apparently couldn't communicate like normal couples.

They were hopeless.

"This isn't going to work, you know," she told him matter-of-factly. "If we fall apart after just one little hitch, and we can't talk to each other."

"So we wait ta' make up with each other. Only took three years this time, and neither of us was even mad."

"But Ranma, that's the point! Do you really want to wait three years every time one of us is a little unsure of ourselves?"

"Yes," he replied, so surely that Akane was stunned into silence.

"I missed you, so much." And suddenly his voice was husky and low, and he was pressing her against the wall. She leaned into his touch automatically, her body singing with joy at the sudden rainfall in the scorching and barren desert that was life without Ranma, before regaining her wits and trying to squirm out of his grip. Unsuccessfully.

"Ranma, no!" she growled, fixing him with an angry look. The effect was muddled by her lust-filled eyes, and he grinned boyishly. "This won't fix our problems."

"No, but it's step one."

"Ranma!"

She had missed him so much, too. How could she have wanted anything else? Thoughts of Ryoga, of a life abroad, of a life without him there to watch her back, all of these thoughts slipped out of her mind at the feel of his hands on her shoulders.

He noticed her tears before she did.

He buried his nose in the crook of her neck, muttering, "I wanna make those dark circles of yours go away. Didja even notice mine, 'Kane?"

She looked into his face, and saw.

"And that gray streak is kinda cute, but you don't really wan' another, do you?"

She sighed.

"It's gonna be okay from now on. I promise."

"You can't promise something like that. I don't know myself anymore. You don't either. And I don't know you."

"So we can do this whole courtin' thing all over again." He lifted her up, purposefully sliding his hands underneath her top to enjoy the smooth feel of her skin under his hands.

"You just gotta believe in us."

His words were tempting. Really. But she was having her doubts… What if…?

As if reading her thoughts, he brought his lips right to the shell of her ear. "Just stop with the what if's, 'Kane, 'cuz you're not gettin' away from me again."

His lips met hers. She was surprised at the hunger in her returning kiss, how eagerly her mouth slid against his. He was as velvety smooth and hot as she remembered, her tongue slipping inside his mouth, and she could taste her own toothpaste on him. She remembered how this had felt the first time around, and thought, this time was almost better.

Because now, she knew what it was like without him.

It was like a giant game of hide and seek, she thought, and they'd both found her in the end. So, maybe, they'd both won? Could she really believe that?

He groaned, low in his throat, and she shuddered pleasantly and gripped his pigtail with one hand.

Yes. For now, she could.

AN: So, that's it. Um. Don't stay in unhealthy relationships, kids. Your hair will go gray.

..

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Thanks for sticking with me and my lazy updating, those-of-you-who-actually-read-this-story. Parts of it turned out the way I wanted, but other parts I'm still not totally happy with. So if this story pops up again, it's because I edited something I didn't like. For now, enjoy the good-enough ever-after.