Her body could move with the grace of a dancer. Careful transitions. Sharp yet fluid, her arms maneuvered against the air, fingers curled into a small fists, eyes closed delicately as she stood with her knees bent. Her posture was firm, the muscles of her stomach contracted to support her stance. Quickly she moved, releasing a breath as she extended an arm, bringing the other back towards her chest. She was repeating this exercise, punching the empty space around her, feeling the air brush against her skin. She was going so fast, her breath beginning to heave. But time stood still for her. Everything felt like one long, fluid passage. A dance with herself, against herself. A dance that took over her body, to where she wasn't thinking what she would do next. The movements bled out of her, controlling her, becoming her.
It was dark in the dojo, the only source of light coming from the elegant moonlight of the evening. She appeared as a shadow in the darkness, a dancing silhouette. The hardwood floors felt cold against her toes, creaking with every few steps, despite being light on her feet. She didn't realize she was beginning to move faster, yet maintained her balance and control. Her breath quickened, her heartbeat following.
Akane tried to have her mind clear, to be in a meditative state. But it was impossible for her to keep her thoughts blank despite her efforts. Every time she had a moment of peace, the thoughts came back. And she would react to them through her movements, becoming more aggressive and emotional. Losing the control.
Ranma and that girl, together. They were together in her thoughts. She imagined her as beautiful, dainty, delicate. With long hair. And red lips. She was much more beautiful than her. After all, Ranma commonly said she was uncute. So this girl, Daiyu...she must have been beautiful. More beautiful than Shampoo or Ukyo. She had to be the most beautiful girl Ranma had ever seen.
Ranma with this beautiful girl, drinking together. Ranma drunk, and touching her. Perhaps soft moans coming from her mouth. Touching him back.
She shot a roundhouse kick high into the air, so suddenly and fiercely she almost dislocated her hip. For a moment, the sight was dazzling. Her form, black against the moonlight, her leg long and high, toes pointed, stance firm. She was in and out of concentration, moving fluidly whenever she was able to control it, and then bursting in abrupt, violent movements when the images cursed her mind.
He was touching her and she was touching him back. Lips brushing against one another. She imagined her with long, thick dark lashes, and large bright eyes. She must have given him a knowing look. Then they undressed each other. He saw and admired her body. Her perfect, soft, feminine body.
With a loud grunt, Akane jumped and extended her leg in a front kick, landing harshly on the ground, feeling the impact on her ankle. She groaned angrily, she was losing it. But it was out of control now. The intrusive thoughts scorched her brain, taking over her vision. Every time she blinked, she saw them together, holding each other, caressing, kissing, drinking. It was like a horrible nightmare, and she couldn't wake up. Doomed in this endless loop of emotional turmoil, confronting feelings she would have rather kept inside her.
She didn't realize that the images began to morph, and her reaction to them changed. She saw Ranma, in a new light, in a way she had never looked at him before. Thoughts she had never considered. She saw him undress, could see the curve of the musculature of his arms, the contour of his abdominal muscles. A depth to his eyes, the blue in them deep and inviting.
She became aware of the burning in her core, could feel the fabric of her gi rub against her breasts as she continued to move, now more frantically. Kicking, punching, losing any focus she had managed to hold on to. This feeling was foreign to her, and she gasped lightly as the thoughts consumed her, receptive of the sensations of her body, the flutter in her abdomen.
He was sexy, mature, provoking, experienced.
But he wasn't with her. He was with that girl.
And there she released a loud cry, one that she had held back all night. With the exclamation, she fell to her knees, landing in a light thud, and there she buried her face in her palms, sobbing loudly and messily, tears staining the sleeves of her gi. Her whimpers echoed in the dojo, as the crickets hummed outside, and the intrusive thoughts played themselves relentlessly.
"Akane?"
Her entire body clenched at the familiar voice, and in an instant she stood to her feet, stumbling briefly as she turned around and saw him at the entrance, watching as he hesitated to come closer to her.
Briskly she wiped the years from her cheeks with her sleeve, clearing her throat as she turned around and resumed her fighting stance.
"What do you want, Ranma?" she bellowed angrily, her voice cracking slightly. She could feel his footsteps begin to approach her.
"Hey, are you crying?" When his hand touched her shoulder, she reacted immediately by pivoting and throwing a side kick his way, but he dodged it easily, leaning back slightly, catching himself on his back foot.
"Can't you see I'm busy here?" she exclaimed, throwing a jab towards him, which he avoided by grabbing her fist. Her brows furrowed, and there she was forced to look up at him, their eyes meeting.
"Will you please let me explain?" he asked softly, and she could feel a tenderness to his hold on her. With an irritated grunt, she pulled her hand from him, and tried to throw another punch, but he avoided her attack once more.
"What do you have to explain? Do you think I want to hear about you and that girl?" They moved about the dojo now, in a way that almost appeared as a choreographed dance, as Akane tried to strike Ranma, and he eluded her advances.
"It's not what you think!" he yelled, and for a moment she stopped, and glared at him with narrow eyes.
"So you didn't sleep with her?"
His cheeks deepened in a blush, and awkwardly he tugged at the collar of his shirt. "I mean well I...I did...but-"
A boisterous, unrelenting grunt fled her throat, as she then resumed her attack on him, but now more spirited and with purpose.
"You are such a PERVERT!"
A muffled yelp left him as he hurried to duck from her frenzied repeated kicks, and every time he blocked or avoided her, she came back at him again, even more aggressive, screaming and grunting as she threw every move she could at him.
"Quit hitting me and let me explain you tomboy!" Lifting his arms, he created a barricade against his face, feeling her throw a burst of punches towards him. They were less like those of a martial artist, but sloppy and emotional.
"I don't want to hear about it! I want you to get out!"
"Not until you let me talk!"
"I don't care about what you have to say, Ranma! You can do whatever you want!" She tried to knee him in the groin but hastily he jumped and avoided the impact. "Go sleep with more girls from what I care! You got plenty waiting for you! It makes no difference to me!"
He was almost cornered against the wall, and there she thought she finally had the advantage over him. Raising her leg, she pivoted to extend her knee in a kick to his face, but it happened so fast when he grabbed her before she could execute the movement. With a light gasp, she found herself pinned against the wall and he took her waist and pushed her, pressing his body against her so she could not escape. He seized her wrists, taking both and holding them together as he lifted them over her head.
As she wiggled and struggled against him, she found no escape, trapped in his grasp. The more she struggled the more weight he put on her.
"Let me go, you idiot!"
"Not until you stop trying to hit me and listen!"
She could feel the heat of his body warm her, feel his breath hit her face as he exhaled heavily down towards her. She felt so small and weak in his hold. It was humiliating, and the anger inside her was boiling. But simultaneously, he was so close, his scent filling her nostrils. It was warm and natural and smelled good to her. It was making her already thick breathing become heavier, and a hollowness to form in her stomach. It was quiet in the room, uncomfortably so.
"I don't want to talk to you," she spoke unexpectedly softly.
He exhaled sharply through his nose, and she felt the breath graze her skin. She had stopped struggling, but her body was tense, so close to his, she could feel his heart beat, pounding against her, the pulse blending with her own, forming a chaotic, sensual rhythm.
He was strong and lean, and as he pinned her arms she saw the muscle of his tricep flex, and she was reminded of her carnal thoughts towards him just moments earlier. The sweat dampening his forehead, his hair messy, braid loose from the hysteria. His husky smell intoxicating her. And she found herself gazing into his eyes, her stare firm, unrelenting, nose wrinkled. She would not show him any weakness despite what she was feeling. And she was definitely feeling something. And unlike the course of her earlier thoughts, he was not with the mysterious girl. He was here, with her.
She was small, light, it felt as if he were holding down a doll almost. As if he would break her. Sometimes he forgot how much taller he was than her. But he was aware of her strength, her brutality. But there before him, in the darkness , in the moonlight, her eyes glittered dreamily, despite her scowl towards him. He could see every conflicting emotion bleeding from the brown in her irises. And as he held her in this position, he noticed the contour of her body, the small curve of her waist, the thickness of her hips. He didn't know why he was looking at her this way, what he was thinking. Perhaps it was the adrenaline, or the close proximity of their bodies. That he could feel the pressure of her breasts against his abdomen, feel her breath scorch his face as she looked up at him.
And on impulse, without hesitation, he leaned downward and kissed her mouth. The action took her by surprise, to where she kept her eyes open and held her breath. His lips were warm and soft and after the initial shock, she realized it felt good. Closing her eyes, she relaxed against him, kissing him back, feeling him kiss her more deeply, albeit clumsily.
He let go of her arms, and they dropped down to embrace his neck, while she stood on her tip toes to meet him more comfortably. As his hand found her waist, he broke the kiss, but immediately kissed her again, and a light moan stifled her throat. They kissed heatedly, sloppily, like amateurs who had never kissed before. Her mouth was wet from his, as he glided his lips against hers, pressing her more tightly against him.
As he broke the kiss again, he kissed her neck, and for a moment she allowed herself to be completely immersed in the moment, in the feeling, where every horrible thought had left her mind and all she felt was him and his body holding hers, his lips on her, smoothing over her flesh, leaving a wet trail, so soft and warm. And it all felt so good, like it was always supposed to be this way, that this was what meant for their bodies. And it was her there with him now, not the other girl.
The other girl she imagined with the beautiful long hair. The one he undressed. And drank with.
The girl he slept with.
There she dug her nails into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him away from her as she felt tears begin to sting at her eyes, but she kept them from falling. His lips were still puckered, eyes slowly opening as he felt the sudden loss of heat and contact. As he tried to hold her again, she rejected his advance and abruptly walked away from him, leaving the dojo and going outside.
She was shaking, breathing erratically out of her mouth, her heart beating so fast she thought she would have a heart attack. When she was outside, she stopped for a moment, placing a hand on her chest, the pounding vibrating against her sternum.
"Hey, Akane! Hold up!"
She grunted as he yelled to her, feeling her fists clench and her anger boiling. Turning around before he could approach her and try to touch her again, she scowled, her right brow twitching, breath heaving.
He had tried to reach for her hand, but she snatched it away from him.
"Why'd you leave so fast? Did I do something wrong?"
She struggled to answer him without screaming or breaking into tears. "I don't know what the hell that was," she began, turning away from him as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't know what you're trying to do. But you can do it with somebody else."
"Akane, I'm not-"
"I'm leaving now, Ranma. Don't follow me." She attempted to try to walk into her home, her feet bare and damp against the grass. However, he had grabbed her by the shoulders and turned her around to face him. His gaze toward her was intense, brows furrowed irritably.
"Stop being so stubborn and just listen to me, dummy," he spoke, grasping her shoulders more tightly. "You haven't let me get a word in!"
"Hard to talk when you're attacking my mouth!" She pushed him off of her harshly, and he stumbled briefly, frowning at her statement.
"Attacking? It really looked like you were enjoying yourself."
A blush immediately tinted her cheeks, as she groan exhaustedly. "Jeez you're such a stupid pervert! I was not enjoying myself! Why would I want to kiss you?"
"Well why would I wanna kiss an uncute tomboy like you?!"
Akane sighed, throwing her hands in the air. He really thought he was saying something here. "You kissed me you idiot!"
"You kissed me back!"
"What was I supposed to do?!"
Placing his hands on his hip bones, he leaned toward her mockingly. "Maybe not kiss me back?"
"I'd rather lick a garbage can than kiss you, Ranma."
"Well I guess you're a garbage can licker because you DID KISS ME!"
"Yea and it was like LICKING A GARBAGE CAN!"
And there she lost her temper, the rage blazing within her, as she lifted her leg and threw perhaps her cleanest roundhouse kick. Taken aback from the sudden outburst, her foot collided with his jaw, and the impact sent him momentarily into the air, until he landed with a loud splash into the pond near them.
His torso emerged from the water, he now a she, as she gasped for breath. Her shirt was wet and clung to her newly formed, plump breasts, her nipples perking and visible through the fabric. Angrily, she batted her lashes towards Akane, who stood and watched Ranma suffer in bitter amusement.
"That was unnecessary!" Ranma exclaimed, her voice a bitter feminine shriek, while Akane walked away and left her there, confused, wet, and cursed.