Authors note: This idea came to me recently and thought would make a humorous story. I've only watched the anime (read some of the manga, plan to read the whole thing eventually). Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma 1/2.
Eyes almost black. Black, but filled with a depth of emotion and feeling. Black, yet textured. Large, glimmering, beautiful. In the moonlight, they shone like pools of dark oxygenized blood. Eyes that bled the sadness and fear inside her. Black tears streamed down her face, perhaps black from the makeup she wore, however they appeared as extensions of her eyes, as if the blood were falling down her cheeks, slowly creeping against her pale, porcelain flesh. She wiped away the wetness, smearing the blackness on her cheekbones, and she tried to smile, a pucker to her pretty lips, as long dark hair fell in front of her face. A beautiful mystery, a sad story.
And their eyes locked. His with hers, the blue dancing with the bloody black. The wind blew softly, and her hair moved. A shiver tickled at his arm. His throat burned from the alcohol. His mind was racing, yet simultaneously time slowed down. So slow that he noticed everything about her. How she sat on the dirt on the ground so naturally and daintily, staining her dress, yet gave no mind to it. How her voice sounded like a song, a tremor in her throat as she held back sobs.
She gave him a knowing look. And there they connected. For a moment, for a night.
~oOo~
It could have been a regular dinner, but they had to make it "special."
Special only in declaration. Everything else was the same. They all sat in their usual positions around the table. They ate the same thing they did every week on a Friday. They wore the same clothes. There was nothing special. But they had to make it special.
It was one year since the madness began. Since the cursed father and son duo entered their lives and brought their drama with them. One year of chaos and fighting and awkward sexual tension. She could feel him sitting next to her though she chose not to look at him, his arm brushing against her as he ate from a bowl of rice, almost inhaling the grains. She frowned. He was so gross and annoying and rude.
He saw her frown, or felt her unnecessary tension. Wiping his mouth with his hand, he looked down at her. "What's your problem?" He asked with a raise of a black brow.
She took a careful breath, moving a strand of short blue black hair away from her eyes, deciding to finally look at him and catching his inquisitive yet bothered stare.
"Nothing Ranma," she spoke softly but coarsely. "I didn't even do anything."
Placing, his arms behind his head and adjusting the cross of his legs underneath the low table, he glanced away from her. "You're acting all pissy sitting there all quiet."
Sometimes she really hated his voice. Others would argue it was boyish and comely. His suitors would love to hear his voice as often as she did. But sometimes she just really hated his stupid voice and the stupid words that would come out of it. Her fist curled under the table, a twitch to her brow as she looked down at her barely touched food.
"Shut up, Ranma," she growled quietly, trying to breathe to control her temper. She felt the fires of her emotions burning and carefully she tried to calm herself.
"Ranma's right, Akane."
At the sound of the sly and smooth feminine voice, she looked to her right, meeting the pretty yet cunning gaze of her sister. Almost seductively, her short, brown inverted bob fell in front of her face as she leaned forward towards her, brushing her hand against her shoulder. "You shouldn't be in such a bad mood. After all, it is the anniversary of your engagement to Ranma."
Akane felt her blush scorch her cheeks, briskly shrugging off her sister's embrace. Taking a quick glance over at Ranma, she noticed he too shared a similar blush, his face as red as his Chinese shirt, pursing his lips together as if he wanted to say something but struggled with the words.
"Nabiki, stop," she mumbled. But it was too late. The fathers had heard.
"Yes, the anniversary!"
"A joyous occasion!"
They both sat across from her, both in their gis, holding each other happily, tears of joy streaming down their faces. It would have been comical if it wasn't her life. The whole story would have been hilarious. It could have been the subject of a manga or anime. It would have been a hit. But it wasn't, it was her life, and it wasn't funny.
A year ago that day Ranma and his father entered her life. A year ago that day Ranma became her fiancé. A year ago she learned about his curse that turned him in a woman. She learned about all of his manic suitors. The near death experiences. The days that were never boring but always exciting. Yet often tiring.
And the two old men sat there, celebrating by themselves, drinking sake and hugging each other like buffoons. They looked ridiculous. Her father, Soun, with his arms wrapped around Ranma's father, Genma. The hue of his tanned skin contrasting against his friends lighter complexion. Genma's glasses fogged while he cried drunken tears. As he sobbed against his long time friend, Soun's mustache was wet and glistened a muddy black. Akane could smell the sake that leaked from their breaths as they continued to celebrate for her without her. With a sigh, she picked up her cup of tea and sipped slowly.
"Congratulations, Ranma and Akane." The sound of her eldest sister's sweet and soft voice caused her to grab Ranma's arm and squeeze. He flinched and she felt his bicep flex beneath her finger nails. With all her might, she tried to control her anger. It was building inside her chest, almost physically painful to maintain. It felt like a drum banging against her sternum, pounding at her flesh, desperate to break free to relieve her.
Ranma tried to shrug her off, but she maintained her clutch on him. She looked across at her sister, Kasumi, who sat so beautifully and delicately at the table. She radiated tranquil energy. She looked almost angelic as she sat there in her apron, her hair in a clean low ponytail, appearing soft and brushed to perfection. Her smile was so sweet and pure that Akane felt guilty for her anger.
"This is just a regular day, nothing special," she spoke through clenched teeth, then snapped her head to her left. "Right, Ranma?"
Her grip on him tightened, and he looked down at her with narrowed eyes. "Wouldja let go of me you freak?!"
He finally broke free of her grasp, and while he felt triumphant for a moment, she immediately elbowed him in the chest. He choked out a sharp gasp, clutching his collar bone.
At last relieving herself, Akane crossed her arms over her chest and breathed peacefully. "See? Just a regular day."
"Nonsense!" Soun objected, letting go of his friend and slamming his fist against the table. The dishes rattled from the impact. "We must celebrate this occasion. Akane you have been engaged for a year! We have to rejoice in the blossoming love between you and Ranma." At that, he began to sob once more while the couple stared at him with blank expressions, blinking repeatedly.
"Your father is right, Akane," Genma spoke, his voice noticeably deeper as he rubbed the back of his emotional comrade. "This is a beautiful, special day. And we decided that for this special day we are allowing everyone to have a shot of sake tonight in celebration."
The reactions were mixed around the table. Immediately, Nabiki's eyes gleamed as she reached over to hug her father. "Really, daddy?" Her eyes were closed as she grinned mischievously, the smile consuming her face.
"Is that really such as great idea, father?" Kasumi asked, concern lacing her voice, her hand reaching her mouth as a worried expression contorted her face. "We are much too young, especially Ranma and Akane."
The girl in question remained silent. She was indifferent to the idea. She would drink it, but it didn't excite her. She just wanted the night to be over. She had opened her mouth to speak, but was quickly interrupted from the sudden outburst from the boy next to her.
"No way, pops. I hate the stuff."
Instantly, all focus was on Ranma, who sat cross legged with his arms crossed over his chest in defiance, nose pointed upward. Akane glared at him curiously, nose wrinkling and eye squinting, as she wondered exactly what everyone else was thinking.
"What the hell, boy!" Genma bellowed, broken from his winsome trance as he leaned forward on the table towards Ranma. His hand was raised as if he were to strike him, but Soun held him back. "What the hell do you mean you hate it? What are you doing drinking? Are you a delinquent?! Are you trying to ruin your training?!"
Ranma nervously leaned back, catching himself on his arms, an apprehensive hum to his throat.
"When did you start drinking?!"
"I don't!" he finally hollered back angrily, furrowing his brows. "Relax, pops! It was one time like a year ago."
"When? When we were in China? When were you drinking? You never left my sight!"
Ranma went silent, causing the entire room to be as well. The stillness was unsettling. Akane continued her meticulous gaze, noticing an uneasiness consume him. His posture altered, his back curved, vision downward, his hands nestled between his legs. She noticed a light crimson begin to burn his cheeks.
"I tried it with a friend once," he finally admitted, his voice low.
Genma, now more contained, adjusted his glasses, wrinkles creasing his forehead as he rubbed his fingers against his chin. "You made a friend when we were in China?"
Akane witnessed the continued reddening of his face. He appeared as a thermometer, gradually getting more and more crimson. She raised an eyebrow at him, her elbow leaning against the table as she rested her cheek on her palm. "Who's your friend, Ranma?" she asked tauntingly.
The aura emitting from him was awkward, uncomfortable, secretive. His chest visibly expanded as he took in a deep breath, avoiding Akane's glare as he answered.
"It was that runaway girl we met. Daiyu."
Akane's posture tensed. She felt every muscle contract in her body. She almost couldn't breathe. A girl? Another girl?
Rubbing at the coarse hairs on his chin, Genma seemed to ponder for a moment, until a look of realization brightened his expression. "Oh yes, I remember her. She was that pretty young girl we found while hiking. The runaway! I couldn't let her travel by herself, especially at night. I told her to stay with us, but she disappeared the next morning." Then, he seemed perplexed. "She gave you sake? But when?"
Uncomfortably, Ranma chuckled, running his hand through his bangs. "I mean, does it really matter, pops?"
"It does if my son is drinking!"
"She gave me some after you went to sleep. That's all," he finally confessed, shaking his hands nervously. "Can we drop it now?"
She didn't like any of it, any of the words being spoken. Nothing upset her more than hearing about Ranma's numerous suitors. She had to live with it on a daily basis, had to endure the constant pangs of extreme jealousy and anger that consumed her. But this was different. While their affections were explicitly unrequited, there was something strange with Ranma's reaction to the mention of this Daiyu. From the deep, distressing blush that darkened his skin, to his rigid posture, the involuntary contractions of his arm muscles. This was different from the rest of them. He was hiding something, something he didn't want to reveal.
Nabiki tried to cut the tension with a provacative laugh, leaning forward onto the table, her green crop top sliding down her shoulders, a flirtatious yet playful strum to her voice. "What happened, did she get drunk and take advantage of you?"
She chuckled again, but Ranma didn't laugh. He turned so red it appeared his head might have exploded. His body hunching even more forward, he was silent, unable to breathe or move. For a moment no one spoke, or even breathed. The silence consumed and as everyone came to the realization, Nabiki pressed her chest further onto the table, her eyes widening, almost consuming her face, The brown in them sparkled mischievously, a low gasp escaping her lips, which then formed into a coy grin.
"Ranma...you didn't!"
As uncomfortable and tense as it was, he missed the silence. It was better than the sudden commotion that followed. They all spoke at once, towards him, about him, shouting, laughing, crying.
Genma had been the first to speak, his face contorting as he tried to figure out his reaction. His expressions morphed from shock, to confusion, to anger, pride, and then a strange mixture of all of them.
"Ranma, you...what did...Ranma..." Scratching his forehead, he leaned back, and snickered slightly. "Ranma, my boy!"
At his satisfied explanation, Ranma buried his face in his palms, completely mortified.
Soun, who had moments ago been embracing his comrade, now scowled and smacked Genma behind the head. "This is a disgrace, Saotome!" He snapped his neck towards Ranma. "What have you done with Akane, son?! Have you also violated her?!"
"No, no I haven't done anything with Akane!" Looking up the ceiling, he tugged at his dark braid. He glanced over at her, expecting her to defend him, or at least reassure her father that nothing had happened. But she was quiet, her face downward where he couldn't see her expression. Meticulously with both hands, she picked up her cup and sipped on her tea daintily.
"Maybe this is an inappropriate subject for the dinner table?" Kasumi's voice was soft and full of concern. "It sounds like a private matter."
Nabiki laughed however, rubbing her hands together spiritedly. Half her weight on the table, she gave Ranma a sly look. "No way, I'd love to hear what happened, Ranma. So how'd you do it?"
"Everyone needs to relax! You're all blowing this out of proportion!" He looked at Akane again, who will still quiet. "Hey, are you ok?" he asked her softly, feeling her tension radiate towards him.
However, she did not answer him, did not speak at all. She sat there absorbing the noise, letting it pass through her ears but not taking in any of the words. It felt like she was out of her body, watching the scene before her. After a while the noise became muffled. All she could hear was the pounding of her heart, and her own thoughts urging her to control the rage inside her. But if was more than rage this time. It physically hurt more than her anger. It was a heaviness in her chest, capturing her breath, causing her heart to race and clash against the walls of her chest. It was so painful and physically excruciating she couldn't bear it.
She felt when Ranma placed his hand lightly on her shoulder, shaking her. "Are you ok?"
There were murmurs of concern amongst her family members. And the discomfort and heaviness within her was building. A tear left her eye, scorching her flesh as it trickled down her skin. She couldn't take the noise anymore, couldn't stand the burning rage inside her. And over her dead body would she let Ranma see her cry over him.
Swiftly she stood, her skirt wrinkled from sitting, and the table shook slightly from her sudden movement. Again they voiced their concerns, and again their troubled cries were muffled. With curled fists and pursed lips, she walked away, almost in a march, briskly and hastily as a second tear fell from her eye. As she left, Ranma quickly stood to follow, stumbling in his hastiness as he scrambled to catch up to her.
Her march had turned into a sprint, as she ran up the stairs to get to her bedroom, Ranma steps behind her.
"Akane, wait up!"
She had gotten her hand on the door knob when Ranma grabbed her shoulders and turned her around to face him. Though she kept her gaze low, he could still see the wetness on her cheeks. At first she didn't resist him, her shoulders hunched and a weakness to her posture. She refused to meet his gaze. He stood much taller than her, as she barely reached his shoulders. Seeing her like this caused him to ease as well, guilt and shame consuming him.
"Akane...Can you let me explain?"
"Let go of me, Ranma," she answered softly.
"It's really not as bad as you think."
At last she snapped her eyes up towards him. They were large and wet and glimmering, while her expression contorted. He could feel her body harden beneath his grasp. With a sudden jolt of force she pushed him off of her, and then immediately struck his cheek. Her palm burned from the impact. She could see the imprint of her hand on his flesh, burning a bright red on his skin as he brought his fingers to touch the wound, a look of confusion and bewilderment consuming him.
"Go away, you disgusting pervert!"
The exclamation vibrated from her throat, and there she barged into her room, slamming the door behind her. Pulling the chair from her desk, she sat there sloppily, legs crossed uncomfortably. She buried her face into her schoolbooks and quietly sobbed, feeling the pages wrinkle as her tears soiled them, beginning to stick against her skin. Several silent moments went by. He didn't knock or speak or try to get her to let him inside.
Akane didn't know why she was upset or crying. She didn't know why she cared. Why this bothered her so much. She was forced into this engagement. She never wanted this. It happened before they met. Were they even really together?
She didn't know why, all she knew was that it really hurt. It felt like knives stabbing at her chest, ripping apart her flesh and gnawing at her heart. It was so distressing she didn't know how to handle it or make it better.
She shouldn't have cared. It shouldn't have mattered. But it did. And it hurt even worse when she thought about them together.