Home for the Holidays

Chapter: 5

Title: No Matter How Far

Disclaimer:There is absolutely zero chance that I could ever own Ranma ½ or any of the characters seeing as Rumiko Takahashi already owns them. Don't sue.

Uppercut. Roundhouse.

Inhale.

Jab. Left. Duck.

Exhale.

Right. Block. Sweep.

Breathe.

Perfect. Flawless.

Only Ranma could do it that way.

So when did Akane get this good...?

He could only watch in awe from the doorframe as she practiced, unaware of her private audience.

She was amazing.

Sure, it had been two years since he'd seen her, but Akane seemed totally transformed as far as her martial arts skill was concerned. Not that she was a horrible martial artist before, but she wasn't the best either. She had been disciplined. Just not disciplined enough. She had been strong. Just not strong enough.

Now she was. Her motions were crisp. Relaxed and flowing yet exact and precise.

He hadn't thought anyone else would be up so early. Maybe Kasumi starting breakfast... but Akane? The first rays of sunlight were just beginning to pour in through the dojo windows, draping across the wood flooring, slipping over her skin, melting into the blue of her tank top. Here he had been, thinking he was the first one up, ready for a good morning workout, when Akane had already beaten him to it.

Well. There was no reason to let her monopolize the dojo. He effortlessly slid into a kata beside her. He could tell she had noticed him a few minutes before, but she still seemed a little surprised that he had joined her. Memories of the night before resurfaced in his mind.

Just when I think I've learned to live without you...

Not that he had forgotten. He had simply pushed everything into the back of his brain until he had time to sort things out. Time that he was hoping to have while he put in a quick morning workout.

He took in a deep breath of cool morning air. So many mornings in China had started this way: lungs filling with mountain air, stinging with the chill of the lingering night, and the sun barely dawning in the valley, kissing the mountaintops with color. But despite all the beauty of those moments, it never seemed to be enough. He was always alone. Not just these last two years but pretty much his whole life. Growing up, they never really stayed anywhere long enough for him to have friends (and even then he almost always managed to make enemies or accidental fiancées out of them), and he had even fewer people who really understood all the chaos that was perpetually plaguing his life.

You're different from any person I've ever met.

And maybe he was. And maybe he prided himself just a little bit too much on that at times while still craving a small shred of a normal life. What could he say? Sometimes a guy just wants the impossible.

But what did that look like? What was this perfect mix of chaos and order he was looking for? His head was starting to ache already. So he turned to the one thing that didn't require thought:

The art. Wordless expression.

Maybe that's why Ranma liked it so much. He wasn't very good with words usually. Every time he tried to explain himself, he only got himself into more and more trouble. Words were just part of a useless, never-ending cycle, in which he continually got himself in and out of problems. But he was good at this. This was something he could do and do well. It was his gift. His talent. His niche. It was as if martial arts flowed through his veins. It was air. Food. His heart. His soul. His life.

This was something he couldn't screw up.

He finally realized they'd both stopped practicing already. He looked up from his thoughts to see her stretching low across her right ankle, and for a moment, he let his eyes trail up the soft tan of her skin to the silky black strands of her hair. How he had ever stayed away so long he'd never know. Admiring the curve of her shoulder and the bend of her knee, he suddenly felt completely and utterly ridiculous. Wasn't this the girl he teased all through high school? The engagement he had fervently protested against? The life he had walked away from? Sweeping his eyes across the worn wooden panels of the dojo and subsequently the girl inside it, he was overcome by a feeling that he had managed to suppress for so long until now.

Regret.

Regret for leaving the place he had come to love. For leaving the life he had come to love. The girl he had come to love.

All for the sake of what...? His own pride? His need for a cure? For closure?

No. In his heart he knew it was none of these. No matter how many times he tried to rationalize and create excuses and reasons for it all, there was only one reason why he had left.

Fear. And fear alone had made him leave the best thing that had ever happened to him. To a person who had always prided himself in being fearless, there was nothing like realizing he'd been running away for the past two years.

Maybe that's why he came back. Perhaps his heart had long before discovered this little epiphany that his mind had never understood until now. Somewhere between all the protesting and arguing, he had fallen in love with this girl.

This girl that he fought with and teased and saved from demons and demigods time and time again.

This girl that drove him crazy with her toxic cooking and snippety remarks.

This girl that could seize him with a smile.

This girl that had unfortunately just looked up to catch him staring at her. Shit. How would he get himself out of this one. "You know you're doing that stretch all wrong, don't you?" Brilliant recovery! He cheered for himself mentally.

She gave him a skeptical look. "I think I know how to stretch properly, Ranma. It's not like I've never stretched before." She looked a bit miffed that he would call her on something so elementary as stretching.

He smirked. It was so easy to tease her. "Could have fooled me."

The comment was followed by a smack on the back of his head via Akane. Suddenly lacking all inhibition, he grabbed her hand and flipped her over his back and into the air. Somersaulting through the crisp morning air, she twisted just in time to land on her feet. Interesting. Her balance was better.

Seeing Ranma lost in observation, she took the opportunity to commence her own attack, which was perhaps actually a disguised attempt to kick his head clear off his shoulders.

Damn. She was serious. He evaded her attack with ease, avoiding contact and putting some space between them. She'd gotten away way too easily in their snowball fight the other day. This time victory was his.

However, he noted what a complete injustice it was that she was wearing those little cotton shorts again. They gave her an obvious advantage. No matter. No tiny black shorts would get the best of him. Nor would the girl wearing them.

The next five minutes became a heated exchange of punches, a barrage of attacks and blocks. She could hardly believe he was actually taking her seriously for once. Ranma Saotome was sparring with her. Well, okay. It was more like a petty skirmish. But regardless of how much he pulled his punches, he was fighting her. And the best part was she wasn't doing half bad.

Suddenly the past two years of sweat and work and early-morning practicing were all worth it. Akane Tendo had Ranma Saotome backed into the far left corner of the dojo.

Checkmate.

Oops. He seemed to have gotten a little sloppy. Perhaps even underestimated her a bit... Well, how was he supposed to know her full capabilities? After all, he hadn't seen her in two years. This was a warm-up round. Was it too late to blame it on those shorts? Nevertheless, he now found his back pressed against the cool wooden panels of the dojo walls. This was not looking good. Then he saw her swing at him from the right. She was fast. But of course, he was faster. He caught her forearm effortlessly... and ironically missed the sweeping kick from the left. Struggling for his balance but eventually losing this particular battle, he had nowhere to go but down. Unfortunately for Akane, if Ranma went down so did she.

Ever so gracefully tumbling on top of him, Akane felt the blood rush to her face. Ranma, however, not only managed to smack his head on the wall, but he also attempted to catch Akane half way through the fall, putting them both in just as compromising of a position as that of the previous night. Her arms had somehow ended up draped over his shoulders while her right knee was jammed up right next to his rib cage and her other leg was wedged underneath his. Smacking his head on the wall had resulted in a sharp intake of breath, making him slightly lightheaded and dizzy. Then again, maybe that was due to the extreme closeness of the girl strewn across his chest. Akane struggled to pull her head up to look at him.

"You alright...?" She questioned, a hint of concern and apprehension in her voice. There was a softness in her brown eyes that disarmed him.

He reached his hand up to the newly formed bump on his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "Yeah. I'm alright. Just stings a little." He gave her a lopsided smile for reassurance. Inside his brain was screaming. It was so hard to think clearly with sixty percent of Akane's body pressed against him. Why hadn't she moved yet? Better question still... why hadn't he moved yet? He waited a moment.

They had fallen. Luckily, not out of a tree this time. But there was more that made this fall different. No flashlight-wielding police officers? No camera-wielding Nabikis? No overly hopeful parents? No insanely infatuated girls...?

Not even one.

Lady Luck was definitely on his side today. And there was no way he was going to waste this perfectly uninterrupted moment.

To move or not to move. That was the question Akane was running over and over again in her mind.

There were a million moments in her life like this one. The kind of ridiculous and awkward moments that a life filled with chaos frequently created. Ones in which there was always the perfect opportunity for something more. The perfect opportunity to finally know for sure... if there was anything worth waiting for. If there was any chance for them.

If he could ever love her.

Unfortunately, these moments were usually the ones in which a random fiancé would burst in or a bucket of cold water suddenly drenched Ranma, turning him into instant female. Ones in which Ranma would say something stupid causing his sudden departure via Akane's mallet. Ones which always ended with the click and flash of Nabiki's camera or the fan waving and cheering of their fathers. Ones that always left her... disappointed.

This time she wouldn't wait to be disappointed. She wouldn't wait for this moment to be ruined like all the other moments in her life.

She'd ruin it herself.

Retracting her arms from his shoulders, she began to get up. Until a pair of strong arms stopped her, and soft lips silenced her confusion. Wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace, any protest she would've had melted away as his lips met hers.

Whatever she had imagined kissing Ranma Saotome to be like was immediately forgotten. To anyone else in the world it was nothing but a simple kiss, but to a heart that had been beaten and bruised throughout the years like hers, it was everything all at once.

It was an apology. For arguing with her. For calling her names. For leaving.

It was a plea. For forgiveness. For some sign of hope. For some kind of assurance that it wasn't too late.

But above all else, it was a promise. To fight against all odds. To never give up. To be more than the sum of their past.

To stay.

She was vaguely aware of anything but the soft tips of his fingers, threading through her hair, and the warmth of his kisses, trailing down her chin and across her neck to her shoulders.

"Akane! Ranma! Breakfast is ready!" Well, okay. Almost anything.

Needless to say, the couple quickly returned to reality at the sound of Kasumi's cheerful breakfast call. Akane hastily scrambled to sit up, but Ranma had flown into sitting position much faster than she did, subsequently knocking her into his lap once again. This might have been the only singular moment in Akane's life, in which she remembered being significantly irritated by the sweet, melodious voice of Kasumi. She didn't really want to get up, but she had this striking notion that if they didn't get up within the next thirty seconds they'd have some serious explaining to do to the next person that walked through the dojo doors. For a split second, steel blue met caramel, and blue fell prey to surprise and caramel to embarrassment. Taking this as her cue to flee to breakfast, Akane untangled herself and stood, dusting off her workout clothes and remaining quite flushed from the whole incident. She turned to leave, but a calloused hand was at her wrist. Gathering her composure, she looked up to meet his eyes again.

"So... we'll call it a draw then?"

Smiling sweetly, she squeezed his hand gently.

"I kicked your ass."

And with that, she was off to breakfast, leaving a somewhat bewildered Ranma standing in the middle of the dojo.

AN: kabam. I actually didn't expect this to come so soon. I figured it would be delayed another chapter or so. But that's how kisses are sometimes. A bit unexpected. But well overdue I figure considering their history.

I dedicate this chapter to my darling friend, Alicia.

Comments and criticism as always. (did I ever mention how much I simply adore comments? They make my day.)

-SP