Okeydokey, I'm back! (live in fear, ladies and gentlemen.)

Well...okay, so this isn't my long fic's prologue. That WILL come soon, I promise. Well, I hope,
and that's almost as good, right? RIGHT?! I have the latter chapters of that all planned out, and I
am beginning to think of a way to begin. (the prologue is almost done! Yippee!)

BIG thanks to my prereaders, Alissa and Diana! They rock, but I can always use more! I, in all
honesty, need all the help I can get! If YOU wanna be a prereader, send me an email at
nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com

This fic is for Whitney, who I should have dedicated 'There's No Genie in this Bottle' to, since
that's more her kind of story. Whitney would never write something so lighthearted as this if her
life depended on it. She's big on the dark stuff. She's been kinda depressed 'cause her brother
gets to go to Paris, so I hope this cheers up her day.

Also for Hotaru-chan aka Torey, who put my stuff up on her site as a guest author! She is another
worshipper of the outer senshi and wrote some Sailor Moon fics that range from very amusing
(Kaiou Video Dating Service) to deep and moving (A Moment in Time). Check out her site at
http://www.envy.nu/zaree.

Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi. If you don't know that, you are obviously in the wrong
place.

And now on to the actual fic! sweatdrop...

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THERE'S SOMETHING ABOUT AKANE
by: nakigoe-chan
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Okay, this is just too weird.

I'm getting kinda freaked out.

I mean, I'm the type of businesswoman who depends on the ability to predict results when no one
else can. Since I happen to be the only person in this town who uses some semblance of
coherent thought I am often the only one who can pull all the factors of a situation together and
come up with the result. That's how I earn most of my money, and earning money is my thing.
It's what I do. It's a fact, and I am the only one in this town who seems to differentiate fact from
fiction anymore, not that it's easy to know where to draw the line between the two. The point is, I
bring in the dough. Just like night can be classified as 'dark' and Outer Space can be classified
as 'big;' my endeavors can be classified as 'profitable.'

But at this point the wildness is beginning to become a bit too normal. Those morons I bet against
are beginning to catch on to how to travel the patterns that I used to be the sole trailblazer of. I
can still almost always guarantee that I can get the right answer, but I can't always make sure that
those morons (who my careful calculations once easily lost along the way) won't now follow the
same tracks!

To give you an example, not even the kendo club bets on Kunou when he's fighting Ranma
anymore.

When you can't mooch money off those brain-dead pretty-boys who are mentally challenged
enough to actually do what Kunou tells them to do, it's a very sad day. I mean, Kunou? His
intellect rivals that of garden tools, you know?

But the point is, unpredictability is getting a bit too, well, predictable.

Princes of small, useless kingdoms show up every four months or so to kidnap my little sister.
Ryouga shows up about every two months, but then stays around for about three weeks to try and
beat Ranma. It never happens. And if Ryouga's not around, some other challenger whose life
one of the Saotomes royally screwed up surfaces with some sort of unbeatable new technique to
nail Ranma with. Even if Ranma loses the first few rounds, he always finds a way to counter and
comes out on top. Shampoo glomps Ranma eight days a week, not to mention beats up some
girl who has recently fallen for him, since there's *always* one of those around. Ukyou gives him
free food, Kodachi poisons him, Akane whams him with her intergalactic hammer. That's just the
way that it goes. But even those in this town who are practically paid to be clueless (they *have*
to be, there's no other explanation for their idiocy) are starting to catch on.

But the thing with Akane is really driving me up the wall. It's crazy!

"My losses this month are *totally* your fault." I tell my younger sister.

Actually, I *made* money this month. But less money than I usually do, so I'm feeling snippy, sue
me. Though that might not be in your best interest, because you'll lose, and I'll win. Of course,
that *would* put me back in a better mood. The general idea is, I feel like complaining to
someone.

Akane looks at me with total confusion. I get that a lot – the you've-lost-me-again look. "I don't
know what you're talking about, Nabiki!"

"I can't predict stuff no one else can anymore! Like you, for example. Everyone can predict you
now!"

Akane looks at me with an expression that tells me she's still confused and more that a little
peeved. Not a good thing, since my little sister is notorious for not having a hold on her temper,
and her temper is notorious for producing intergalactic hammers, and said intergalactic hammers
are notorious for squashing people flatter than cheap pizza. "You *predict* me?" she asks, in the
rising voice that warns me that she is becoming Not Happy, which means that I had better watch
my mouth. I may have the brains, but she has the brawn, so I should be very careful if I want my
skull to remain intact. Wisely, I decide not to pursue the topic. For at least five seconds.

"See, the boy thing is bothering me," I tell her in my best resentful/hurt voice, which has saved me
many a business deal.

Apparently it does not earn big points with my sister. "Join the club," she snaps in her best I'm-
warning-you tone. "What does that have to do with your profits?"

Lack of profits, she means. *I'm* starting to lose my temper now. And while my temper is
nowhere near as violent as my sister's, it is just as feared by Nerima's general population, or at
least those who have bank accounts. Those who *still* have bank accounts, anyway. "You know
what I mean," I snap back at her.

"No, I don't!" She's getting angry now, which means she's also slipping into her clueless mode.
The more emotional Akane gets, the more blind to the obvious she gets. The P-chan thing, for
example. There are a gazillion little clues (with more coming in every day faster than junk mail)
and the girl just *does not get it.* She's freakin' *blind.*

"I mean, you hit a guy and they fall in love with you! Don't tell me you haven't noticed. It's like,
*every single time.*"

Whoa, I see dawn breaking over my sister's face. Epiphany time. She apparently had not
realized the general pattern before, but it was is starting to get through now.

Hey, maybe I could even help her with the pig thing.

She speaks slowly, quietly, and carefully at first, then gradually getting louder. "Like Toma on that
floating island and all those boys who fought me each morning…"

I decide to add my input, and my rising vocal cords. I felt, for the first time in a while, like totally
losing my cool. "Like Kunou, who seems to think you're expressing affection every time you
smash his nose through the back of his skull!"

She keeps going. "Like Kirin!"

"The first time you met Ryouga, you smacked him one when he cut off your hair!" I add.

"Even the tea guy!" She shouts, now full of righteous indignation.

I'm caught up in the moment, and say something I've realized but shared with no one else,
because within seconds the entire town would know, and I would quickly become very dead (not
just a little dead, but really dead).

"And Ranma!" I say in triumph.

Silence.

Oops.

"What?" Akane says very, very softly. Not in an angry voice. Closer to a shocked voice.

Okay, little sister, I think. Time for a wake-up call.

"I said, 'and Ranma,'" I tell her.

Shock has melted back into total confusion mode. "Ranma doesn't love me."

Boy, I'd thought she had figured it out on some level. Those two are bonkers over each other,
and they don't even know it. And, I realize, she's going to have to figure it out on her own. And
I'm *certainly* not the person to tell her.

Now all I need is a way out of this discussion, a path back to less dangerous unexplored territory.

"Okay, not Ranma," I say quickly. "But all those other boys. How dare they!"

"YEAH!" Akane's good at the angry thing. "Those JERKS! Of all the NERVE!" But this time her
anger cools, which is not a common occurance. I'm not entirely sure she is even following the
conversation anymore. That thoughtful look has come back. Is she actually going to figure it out?
I don't think I want her to. If anything happens and someone finds out I contributed, I'm as good
as Nabiki a la okinomiyaki or Tendou Ramen. Oh, boy. Not something to get excited about.

Tada! Enter instant scapegoat extraordinaire, someone who always seems to be able to get
Akane mad. Ranma Saotome himself. And since both my sister and I have worked ourselves
into a blood rage, it's not hard to slam a whole lot of blame on him.

"ARE ALL OF YOU MALES IN THIS TOWN FUCKING MASOCHISTS!?!" We scream at him in
unison.

Ranma does the wide-eyed, deer-in-headlights thing and jumps back, evidently scared out of his
wits by two of the five women who frighten him the most, the others being Cologne, Kodachi, and
probably his mother (And I suppose Shampoo, when she's a cat or on that goddamn bike). I don't
blame him; I happen to be terrified of all those women too. Except the cat one. Ironically, Mr.
Macho Martial Artist isn't scared of any men. Although Happosai ticks the hell outta him.

"Wha..?!?" He says; ever the eloquent one.

"I think I'll go now," I say to them. They, of course, don't notice me leave. They have gotten back
into their comfort zone, a.k.a. yelling their heads off at each other. One would think they would
damage their vocal cords.

Now, of course, they're back with the normal insults. I can hear them from halfway down the hall.

"KAWAIIKUNE!"

"BAKA!"

"I HATE you!"

"I hate YOU!"

"Well I – " Ranma's voice becomes muffled for an instant, and then nonexistent.

Silence.

I wonder briefly if Ranma still has a pulse. My sister has doubtlessly resorted to the hammer.

Guilt creeps in. Guilt is not a thing I'm good at dealing with because it's not something I feel very
often. Maybe once a century. But I got Ranma into this mess, and now his face is probably not
the same as the one he woke up with this morning, due to the Akane method of reorganizing
facial features with her fists.

I creep back and peer into the room to see if the boy is still accomplishing respiration.

Oh, my God.

OH, MY GOD!

The only normal thing about this scene is the fact that Akane has her hands on the side of
Ranma's head, in a grip he doubtlessly won't be able to break. Not that he'd want to, because
these two look like they're enjoying themselves immensely.

Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendou, of all people, are engaged in a serious lip-lock.

Who would've thought? My sister finally got a clue and figured it out.

And I, ladies and gentlemen, was back in business! Nothing like the financial opportunity of
several lifetimes to remind you of your priorities. The camera came out and *flash* *flash* *flash*
I had film worth billions of yen to me, courtesy of my father. The billions it was worth to Mr.
Saotome would, of course, have to cover the wedding and Ranma's resultant hospital bills, from
the fast and furious former fiancées, not to mention Kunou, Ryouga…

I skip back to my room with the film out of the camera and safe in my pocket, my smile outdoing
the Cheshire cat ten to one. Film goes from pocket to locked safe.

I turn on the recording for the microphone into the living room, hoping against hope to get some
good dialogue to go with my photos.

What I hear sends me flat on my back.

" – waki Kunou. Definitely."

"Yeah, you're right, I think…she, like, calls him Kunou-baby and talks to him even when he's in his
Shakespeare mode."

"Nabiki and Kunou are *so* going to be the next pair."

I hit the rewind/erase button on the machine, and storm back to the living room. My thoughts of
what I'll do to them and the expression on my countenance are probably making the devil pretty
damn proud of me, and he's gotten used to the wonderfully devious way I operate to the point of
not becoming proud that often.

I slam into the room to find Ranma standing by the table with his arms crossed over his chest,
smirking, and Akane lounging on the floor with a similar expression. They'd planned my re-entry
with those comments, dammit! They know I have microphones in this room. I suppose that one
must play along. What do they want? I pose this question to them as soon as it pops into my
head.

"The film," Akane says simply, for once staying calm.

Oh, puh-leeze. They thought I'd just give it up? Just because they *said* so? As if!

"Why should I?"

Ranma walks past me, then turns back to face us. "Because we can still say the same stuff. You
know, the stuff you turned on hoping to catch us talking about us, but got us talking about *you?*"

"You guys just made that bullshit up!!"

"Of course we made it up. But we want the film…And face it, Nabiki, we could just *say* the stuff.
Most of the school is broke enough – thanks to you – to want to believe it anyway. We spread
rumors, no more respect for the Ice Queen, no more rep, no more profits."

"This is your argument? No one will believe you. Not to mention that I don't give a damn what
broke people think. I can't make ANY money off them. I can make enough money on this that I
won't need to care what ANYONE thinks."

My younger sister, of all people, is nice about it. "C'mon, Nab-chan," She pleads. "If our parents
knock us out and put us in front of the alter, you won't be able to mooch money off Ukyou OR
Shampoo OR Kodachi OR Kunou OR…"

Oh, shit, of all times for the kid to learn to think. But she's right.

This sucks.

"Alright, I'll be the secret keeper."

"We want it in writing."

Ah, nuts. No blackmail with the photos later.

Isn't it touching how my family loves and TRUSTS and respects each other?

"In writing," I confirm sullenly.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Now it's the next day, and it's eerie how everything seems the same.

Ranma and Akane are still insulting each other, Akane is still malleting him out of the house. Cold
water has the same effect on the Jusenkyoubites, and the other people in the house are acting
like nothing is different.

I asked Akane, last night, if what happened between her and Ranma was serious. She gave me a
devious little smile to let me in on the fact that my words could be very easily misinterpreted.
Then she blushed and nodded. "I meant it. *He* meant it. I think on some level we both always
knew it would end up happening someday, but we were too afraid of each other. But you said
that, last night, and so much clicked in my mind. All the times he's been hurt or humiliated for my
sake. All the times he's fought for me. All the times he's almost said something, and I would do
something violent and scare him off. But now…everything's the same, but everything's different.
If you know where everyone else stands in a situation, sooner or later you can find them. No
matter how hard I have to try, I think it'll be worth it to find him."

She smiled and walked out the door.

For once, I had nothing to say.

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End

Okay, so I don't actually LIKE this one. Well, I do (sorta), but I think my other two are better. I
guess in all honesty I'm just in a snippy mood today, plus I have to post SOMETHING while I'm at
UVA's writer's workshop. PLEASE, PLEASE tell me what you think! Either review or mail me at
nakigoe_chan@hotmail.com.

Look for a website from me soon!

Oh, my god, I did a short Author's Notes. I'm becoming very afraid. sweatdrops, looks around
nervously. What the hell's going on?! runs out of the room in terror.

Ja ne!

~ nakigoe-chan ^_~