Silence permeated the air; the loneliness seemed to be a living thing, waiting for him to commit a single mistake, waiting, always waiting.

And a storm approached the city, a light rain maybe, but it would change this new order, this new way of living life Nerima had used by so long.

And a small breeze washed away the dirt from the buildings, and a drizzle gave the atmosphere a surreal feeling, like something out of a movie that was never quite finished.

But the silence was what his mind caught the most, and the silence was what gave the youngest Tendo daughter a clue that something big was about to happen.

And it seemed as if nature itself had held her breathe, for not even that puff of air made any sound.

I've seen so much

A Ranma ½ Fan fiction

And while Kasumi hurried back to the dojo, walked hurriedly down the street scaring those few that knew her, as much as the small frown upon her delicate face seemed to speak of disaster, and while she thought of why he'd come back, what reason did he have to come back now? And despite all her doubts she knew the reason and her pace hurried a bit more, for she knew why he had come back, and she knew what he'd found, and she desired to fly there, desired to be able to beat him there, for she was knowing in her heart that something big was about to happen.

While Ryoga wandered those quiet streets he didn't recognize, thinking about Akane, about her smile, and trying to picture the place that seemed so familiar to him, the rain started to fall.

----------------------------------------           Chapter Seven -----------------------------------------------

A small amazon group sat around a table, drinking tea and thinking of those past times when life was just a tiny bit crazier, when consequences didn't matter as much and business was just a useful excuse to follow a boy around, when fighting on the streets was not only accepted but expected from them, when Ranma was still among them, when Ranma was still one of them without being an amazon.

And a once glorious chef now laid on her bed, with her small restaurant closed for public, a tiny sign reading personal business all the signals of her still being there, with curtains closed and gates shut, thinking of times when school was a place to see her fiancée, where it didn't matter as much if she got a degree or not, for her life was already decided, for her then by her after.

**********     Every night     **********

And while memories were relived and old times were remembered, a young man walked along a gray street, thinking of times when life was easier, when he could do anything his heart told him to, anything but accept his love for her, for that girl with sweet smiles and angry eyes, for that woman that had held his heart for so long without knowing, perhaps without willing to do so, and his memory called forth images of past challengers for her, of times were fighting was a tool used to protect her, when saying the wrong thing at the wrong time was every day's happenstance and the sights of the city that followed those times were peaceful.

When tears were just a rumor, something made up by those that dared not defy destiny nor fight fate, when a mother was always present, always threatening but at the same time loving, when a father snored and insulted, and accepted in his own personal way.

When a broken man cried fountains whenever something he didn't want to happen happened, when a girl smiled to the morning, when another girl  smirked in that especially womanly way of hers.

Thinking of times when this way was walked every day, when familiar faces smiled at him, or frowned at his haggard appearance, when a doctor gave kind smiles and subtle advice, and danced, danced with a skeleton when Kasumi came by, of times when a panda was a common sight, when a guy turning into a pig was a rival instead of someone who could not, dared not reach out for friendship.

And gray blue eyes looked at the skies and a bitter sweet smile graced those manly lips when a stray cloud reminded him of a duck, of times when a blind guy fought him with all his worth for a girl that didn't acknowledge his existence.

The tears didn't fall, they all had fallen already, but his heart ached when he remembered times when his first love, his only love, smiled at him just because he told her she looked cute with a smile, with the remembrance of that same girl breaking bricks and hitting training dummies with the cry of "Ranma no baka!"

Ranma no baka… nobody had called him in a long time, nobody but her was allowed to call him that, it was as sweet as a love declaration, analogous to the confirmation that she did care, that he mattered, even if most of the time those brown eyes of hers seemed sad, and even if those chocolate pools looked at him as if wishing she hadn't met him in her life, he knew it mattered, he knew she cared.

And the steps were lighter after that, the smiles a bit truer, for if she had cared so long ago, if she had thought about him even once in this long time then the fight was worth fighting again, the phoenix could die again, for she would remember him, even if just to hit him and tell him to leave and never come back, but he would know the truth that had stole his sleep for so long, and he'd know peace at last.

Home is where the heart resides, and while he had spent so much time away from this city, away from these streets he thought this was home, she was home.

And if she was home, could he ask for something else?

So he walked, on the sidewalk instead of the fence now, with a gait that spoke of power and hardships, with a step that reminded those who knew him once of his ability in the arts, of his art.

With eyes that spoke of a life lost and of lives found. With a face hardened by the weather and softened by the memories.

A whole man, a whole person, someone who had found himself, who had found his truth in the depths of his soul, who had faced his fears and emerged victorious, someone who had known loneliness and remained sane.

And people that had lived at Nerima for a long time huddled to the window, to watch upon gray streets and silent ways, to observe a man that hadn't been seen for so long among the living that most considered him a rumor, a dream his minds, tired of every day's events, had called up for them to dream, for them to know there was something beyond the gray existence of routines and realities.

And while children saw him and thought of novels where great heroes had walked alone to their doom, with a confidence that no one showed and smirking at the face of death, those that did remember him saw a man walking to heaven, a man defying death with his very existence.

A man who could jump a couple stories high, who could take blows that destroyed concrete with sheer strength and moved so fast that their eyes weren't able to see him, a man who turned into a girl with a little cold water, and who, despite all that, had made friends with the city, for crime was almost non-existent while he lived there, who could dream of defying law when such a man despised those that did it?

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The house rested silent at the end of the street, with gray walks where newer patches could still be seen and great oak doors leading to the inside of a peaceful room.

And while it wasn't always so, there still was a big patch of ground unoccupied, a big yard where now flowers grew up and the grass seemed greener than anywhere.

And tan walls watched those inside, as a silent guardian watching over those he had to keep safe, where three girls had known life and death, where three women had found hope and despair. Where a girl had known hatred and love could be the same thing, where a young woman had known loneliness didn't have to be the norm of every day, and where a man had know happiness was just waiting to be found, and could be taken away as easily as it came.

A radio sounded in the background, an old melody that hung in the air, a song about nothing and everything, that talked of love found and love lost without anyone hearing it, and a man sat reading the newspaper and remembering an old friend who was always a child, who didn't want responsibilities, who escaped from them as fast as he could… and who accepted a great responsibility knowingly and happily.

And every now and then he looked over to the small table resting on the center of the room where an old postcard laid, an old warning of fantasies about to know on the door, an old sign of things that the eyes saw, but the mind refused to believe.

He didn't know why he had taken it out of his room, what had taken him over so as to have it resting where everybody could read it, as it hadn't mean a single thing for a long time, and it for sure didn't mean a thing now.

And the black kanji spoke of a truth of long ago.

The panda seemed the same, even the card wasn't as yellowish as he remembered it to be.

And unwillingly he read it aloud, "Taking Ranma from China".

And his heart jumped when a knock was heard on the door.

A.N.: Oooh I'm so bad, leaving this right there, a friend told me of a great way to end this story, and I'll try and apply it on the next chapter as it is better than the way I was originally planning on finishing it.

Yeah it turned out to be a Ranma—Akane match up, even if my original intention was to make it a Ranma—Nabiki one, however it seems that they indeed do belong together (at least on this story).

Who knocked?

What would Ranma find out when he reached the Tendo home?

Why is Kasumi so worried?

Find out in the next chapter! (Hopefully it won't take me so long to post it….)

See you….

Bans… off!