Title: Strange Love
Part 2: Different Circumstances
By Azurite [azurite_moon@yahoo.com]
http://www.geocities.com/azurite_moon
A Ranma ½ Fanfiction
REVISION [MINOR] 11.18.01 – Fixed some weird formatting since the new FF.net has been put up; changed the layout to left instead of centered (gets to be an eyesore) and am working on Part 3. Thanks everyone for the great reviews! ^^ Holy moly, this is 15 pages long! Get ready for a read!
The events of Part 1: A different Akane, one that was married to Ranma within two weeks of their initial meeting, relates to us her life. Ranma is a different person—an introvert whose life has been turned upside down. Akane wants to help him, learn from him, and talk with him, but he refuses to tell her anything. When their forced marriage and fragile relationship goes from bad to worse, Ranma inadvertently takes his anger out on Akane. Their sparring matches become violent and uncontrolled. Akane is learning to fend for herself the hard way, but she is not getting away unscathed. Her friends and sisters start to worry, and tell her to get help, and get away from Ranma's sadistic behavior, but she will not. Despite their odd relationship, she finds herself in love with him. In a desperate attempt to get him to open up, Akane stays with him. But she's getting fed up. When will it all stop?
Disclaimer: Ranma ½ and all associated characters and events do not belong to me. However, this storyline does belong to me. The idea that Ranma is the bad guy is one not used too often, or one not used properly. I want to use this opportunity to explore a very real, very controversial issue—because that's who I am, and what I do. You have been forewarned.
Notes: I will not post the original SL anymore. The events of that original story posted will take place during this part and the next. The events described—abuse, rape, and death, are very real. I've experienced my share of hardships, and I do not wish to offend anybody. These events are real. While I'm using fictional characters, the idea behind this remains the same. I'm trying to capture a bit of "another Akane" that we don't see too often. Emotions, cause-and-effect, and action/reactions a part of life. So they're in my fic.
Drama/Romance rated PG-13. Again, you have been warned.
=+=
18 months of living with Ranma Saotome, and you'd think I'd get used to the craziness. The fiancées, the curses, the monsters, the goals for springs, and the fear of cats.
The name's Akane Tendo. I'm 17. Almost 18. When I was 16, I got engaged to the son of one of my dad's old training partners. Over the years, we've been through hell, seen wonders to baffle and boggle the mind, and gotten closer and farther apart for it. For better or for worse, thanks to Ranma and his (mis)adventures, I'm a changed person.
We almost got married last month.
I say that, and I still can't believe it. It's sort of like when Mom died, only getting married is supposed to be happy. Right? But when you have other fiancées, not to mention perverted panty-thieves and rivals, holding a wedding—in the craziest ward of Tokyo… suffice it to say it's a bit difficult.
It failed. I lost my chance, Ranma lost his cure, and the fiancées gained yet another… undefined period of time to seduce or convince Ranma to marry them. Luck—or whatever it was, was not on my side.
But I should let you know, luck has been on my side before. Ranma seems a bit like a charm, even if he is pretty unversed in common sense and manners. He's saved my life and my… well, my state of unmarried-ness on more than one occasion. I've been blind-sighted before too, and nearly given up something good before I knew what I had. Thank all that's holy for Ranma. I've said it before; I'll say it again. I'll deny it too, but it's the truth.
But I've always wondered, what if? Hypothetical situations seem to be my favorite pastime, even if they annoy me occasionally. They range from any period or event in my life when I'd later wished I'd done something different… or just wondered what it would have been like, to be… not who I am now.
What if Mother hadn't died?
What if Nabiki hadn't sold those pictures of Ranma to Kuno that day?
What if I hadn't died back in Jusendo?
What if I hadn't come back?
Haunting questions that I never thought I'd find the answer to. But with fiancées like Ranma, friends like Ryoga and Ukyo, rivals like Shampoo and Kodachi, and enemies like Happosai and Pantyhose Tarou… let's just say expecting the unexpected, and believing without seeing… is everyday.
It was a rainy summer day, hot and humid. But water was water, and with Ranma outside checking out the city, he was bound to get wet, and therefore come home –to the Tendo Training Hall and Dojo—unhappy. He'd stink, and therefore want to use the furo. I had to keep these simple facts in mind, so I wouldn't repeat past mistakes.
But when you have nothing to base what's happening on a past event—a mistake—then what are you supposed to do?
=+=
Ranma had, predictably, come home in his girl form. I heard a grunt from outside, and supposed that Ranma had tripped on a slippery rock. Martial artist or no, he wasn't exactly a god, and able to fight the elements.
Kasumi being out shopping, and Nabiki conversing with her "associates" at a local café, I was alone. That is to say, Father and Genma were out "training" with Master Happosai. Ranma had gone out this morning, and was back now.
I'm not sure what could have surprised me more—the look on his face when he saw me, or the fact that in his arms was an exact double—of me.
=+=
We were silent as he carried her up to my room. Everything about her was like me, save her clothing. While I wore some casual clothes, she was in my—uh, her thin yellow gi. Soaking wet to boot, and I hadn't missed that… well, it wasn't a gaze, and it was more like Ranma was checking out. In that slang sense, not in the "I'm just seeing if she's okay" kind of checking-out. You know what I mean… right?
What made it so damn uncomfortable was that she was me! Those hypothetical situations I'd dreamed, wished, or feared were suddenly coming true. But who was she, really? How and why was she here?
Being unconscious and wet was no help, so I forced Ranma into the furo (without actually forcing him, per se) while I undressed… my other self. I wondered how Ranma had "met" her, or how she had come to the dojo unnoticed by the rest of the Nerima population. She had the same short haircut, but there was something distinctly off about her. I had yet to find out what.
"What" was a discovery I made very quickly. I stripped my other self of her gi and found myself stumbling back to the carpet. Her whole body —my whole body—was riddled in bruises, cuts, scars, and other assorted injuries.
More than I'd ever had in a lifetime, and they were all on her, various degrees of intensity, all at once. What had happened to her? It was impossible that she could have gotten these recently—some bruises were fading, some cuts were fresh. Some looked to be severe, others weren't. So how and why did she pass out?
Again, there were too many questions, and not enough answers. I dressed her in a simple blue sweater and yellow skirt ensemble, leaving her without shoes or socks. Though she was 'me,' I was too embarrassed to remove her bra and underwear, as wet as they were. If she really was anything like me, then I suppose she wouldn't mind.
But we'd have to find out if she was anything like me at all… where she was from, and how and why she had gotten here… when she woke up. It was out of our control.
Ranma seemed to rush out of the furo, quite unlike his usual hour-long soaks. He seemed to treasure turning into a veritable prune in the hot water, but considering cold water was his mortal enemy, it was only logical. He wanted to treasure his 'manhood' when he had it. Not that it would disappear, but with his lifestyle, "anything could happen."
He only seemed to hover over her for a moment before he rushed out again, this time reappearing with those strange clove-like pills he had fed me when I had that raging flu. She wasn't just wet; after all, she was burning up with a fever. I didn't look at her, but rather, at him. Ranma's concern for… me was amazing.
He tilted her chin up with one finger, opened her mouth, and not caring that his thumb depressed on her tongue, slipped the pill into her mouth. Apparently, she swallowed, because she didn't start choking. As if by magic, her feverish red complexion disappeared.
Even though it was the medicine doing the magic, I still felt a little twist in my heart, thinking, 'Ranma really is a miracle man.'
All was silent as I tried to come up with something to say—something that wouldn't result in Ranma hating me, laughing or teasing me. Worse, my other self. I realized yet again that if she were anything like me, she would get insulted, and punt Ranma out the window. Maybe that would be a good thing, so I could talk to 'myself' alone, but maybe it wouldn't. Besides, Ranma had saved her from… whatever made her so sick.
Her injuries were another matter completely, but still…
I hoped she wasn't like me. Maybe then I could see what a future with something drastically changed would be like. If I'd made a different decision, and continued down a different path.
I knew this much from observation—'I' was still a martial artist. As for the myriad of wounds 'I' had, it could mean one of two things, as far as I could tell: I'd tried some stupid technique and overdid it… or I'd been in a really tough battle, with someone out to injure me. Someone possibly out to kill. One of the fiancées, I supposed, but since I didn't know anything about this 'other me,' it could be possible that she didn't even have rivals such as Ukyo and Shampoo.
How glorious would that be! But things wouldn't be the same. I'd wondered what life would be like with Ranma if Shampoo and Ukyo weren't around, and if Kodachi and all those other girls had no interest in him. Would things have been easier between us? If they all disappeared, right here, right now, would our lives be more or less interesting?
I felt like I was wishing for the death of people who I'd grown to respect, and yes, even admire. I'd realized at the failed wedding just how much Shampoo and Ukyo cared for Ranma. They loved him, just like…
My thoughts were thankfully interrupted from that track, as the other 'me' started to groan. Ranma removed the damp cloth from her head, while I watched.
"Ungh…" The other 'me' groaned. She lifted a hand to her forehead, and, remembering her bruises decorating her arm like war wounds, I was thankful I'd put my baggy Two Hearts sweater on her. It felt strange, not wanting to tell Ranma about another person's injuries. He had ways to help with every injury, even if he was insensitive half the time. But she was 'me' and again, I thought that if she was anything like me, her pride and humility would stand in the way of her own health. Perhaps a ridiculous thing to do, but when you're injured and you show it, people think you are weak, and helpless. I don't ever want to be thought of as weak. I sure hope none of my 'other selves' do either.
The other me caught sight of Ranma, hovering above her to check on her breathing, and gasped. It was a quiet, rasping gasp, but I heard it all the same. Her eyes were now very wide, face pale. I noticed the faint outlines of a yellow bruise on her cheek. Her left eye was a bit puffier than her right, but other than that, she looked… like me.
Then she screamed.
"Kiyeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!"
Ranma ducked and covered his ears, while I cringed. Once her sudden shriek was over, I stared at her. There was a moment of … something. A connection that flared to life, and I suddenly knew that Ranma couldn't be here for this. Whether or not her story concerned him—or rather, his other self, I wasn't totally sure. But no one should speak to one's alternate self but his or her own self. It felt selfish at first, but it was what I had to do.
"Ranma, maybe you should go."
"But why?" Ranma asked, bewildered. I could see the startled-ness plain on his
face. I ignored it and pointed to the door. Ranma hung his head, and I smiled
as he respectfully left us girls alone.
When I was quite assured that Ranma was gone, having looked down both sides of the hall, I closed my door and faced my other self. I tried to smile, but I think she knew that I knew… something. About her bruises, about Ranma. Something was very wrong with her life. That's why she was here, that's why she was so injured.
But who was responsible?
*=O=*
I awoke groggily, my head pounding. It felt as though I had malleted myself, something I felt like doing all too often. I should have listened to Yuka and Sayuri; should have practiced what I preached…
I saw two very familiar eyes hovering above me, and before my vision cleared enough to really look at the owner of those eyes, I screamed. It was as if the barrier that had separated me from my emotions for so long was so much dust.
A month ago, I never would have screamed in my husband's presence. It was far too risky; let alone screaming AT him, in his face. But having "suffered" 18 months of being married to Ranma Saotome did things to your head, and after finally realizing I had to get away from him, even for a short while, the idea that he had followed me terrified me to pieces.
That's when my vision cleared, and I realized where I was. My old room, back in the Tendo compound. I wanted to get up and kiss all my familiar belongings—the diary underneath the closet floorboard, the teddy bear stuffed next to my red boom box… everything looked the same!
A year after I'd been married to Ranma, Father arranged for Ranma and I to live in the old apartment my mother used to live in during her college years. It was small, but Father didn't care, and neither did Ranma. In fact, I think Ranma preferred the smallness, while it was driving me insane.
The people—those eyes—they belonged to Ranma all right, but not my Ranma! Even if I was in love with my husband, I needed to escape him—so I was more than ecstatic that this wasn't the Ranma I knew. However, I didn't know him, so I couldn't trust him. There was only one person I could trust.
My other self said something to Ranma—my hearing wasn't up to specs, I guess, and he left. That was it. No insults, no jeers. He didn't hit her. I guess I didn't expect him to, because this was another time and another place. Maybe she was still 18, maybe she'd been through all the same crap I had, but at least the man she loved –assuming she actually did love her Ranma—was respectful to her. How had she pulled that off?
She turned to me, looking a bit unsure, and more than a bit uncomfortable. It was then I realized I was not wearing my gi, but normal clothes. Having been stuck in the rain for an hour, lost and desperate in my own hometown –of another time and place—had made me miserable. Not to mention sick, which was why I had passed out upon sighting the Ranma of this time. I only remembered staring in astonishment, wondering how and why he could have followed me… then it was dark.
"Maybe I should explain…" I started, getting out from under the covers. My other self moved towards me, concern written on her face. I could tell, because, of course, I was her. She was me.
"You were really sick. You should probably stay in bed a bit longer." She put her hand on mine, and that's when I realized she had a kind of sympathy –or maybe it was empathy- for me. She knew of my injuries, and no doubt wondered about them, but was, like me, too proud to ask about them. How would she feel when I told her I got them from my husband, Ranma? What would startle her more—the fact that Ranma was my husband, or the fact that he beat me?
I hope you remember here that I didn't let him beat me. I'm not someone's punching bag to be used for target practice. But I'd been through so much with Ranma that I started finding out about those hidden fears and deep secrets. His own bad upbringing, care of his father, was responsible for his crudity and chauvinistic behavior. It was probably also why Father and Genma turned a blind-eye to Ranma taking out his anger on me.
At first, I thought it was just like sparring, but when Ranma started to forget that his opponent was me—regardless of the fact that I was his wife—I couldn't fight back as hard. He was a different person while fighting. It was as if someone in his head was controlling him and his every move, because my Ranma—the one I had fallen in love with—he never would have hurt me in anger, but that's just what he did. Yet I couldn't doubt my love for him. Or my need.
"I'm a bit hungry…" I started. Akane took the hint. She smiled brightly and then walked to the door. Opening it with a cheery thrust, she motioned to me to get out of bed and follow her.
"Maybe I can whip something up…" she was murmuring. I wondered if this Akane was as horrible as I had been when I first started cooking. If so, I chuckled, I was in for trouble! My own cooking had improved with the help of Kasumi, mother's notebook, and some high school home economics classes. My incentive, of course, was to please Ranma. Making him happy was my only goal, but in order to do that, I had to find out what displeased him—the hard way.
"Why don't I?" I
suggested, just in case, "I haven't cooked anything in a while."
"That's probably a good idea… heh, I have a bit of a black thumb in the
kitchen." Akane smiled bashfully, scratching behind her ear.
"Me too! Or I used to anyway. I
got better."
"Really? How'd you get better?" She asked me sincerely. I stopped.
I could sense him. Perhaps it was just the other Akane's Ranma, though. If so, I had to simply play it safe, and make sure he was as trustworthy as he appeared—and as my other self made him out to be.
I chanced to look up, pretending to be discreet, and saw Ranma attached to the beams of the ceiling like a spider. He hung off the rafters with his legs, and, seeing me watch him, he sweatdropped.
"Hello, Ranma."
"Uh… hey." The other Akane turned and looked at him with a semi-furious expression on her face. She looked about to kill him, but something… I had no idea what… just stopped her.
"You better not have been
spying on us, Ranma?"
"Why would I want to spy on two uncute tomboys?" Ranma asked. I felt a
pang strike my heart. The Ranma of my time never insulted me any more, but I
wished sometimes that we would. Only if it meant it was a sign that he wouldn't
lose control and think I was someone I wasn't. If only…
Ranma dropped to his feet without so much as a thump. He grinned boyishly and sauntered off. Akane was fuming, but when he disappeared around a corner, she smiled. I didn't miss it, but said nothing.
"Come on. We can exchange cooking… uh, tips." The other Akane smiled as we went downstairs. On the last step, that feeling that had boiled in her, just before fainting from sickness, raged once more.
It was dark, stealthy, and quiet—different from the Ranma of this time, I knew. That's when I realized… he was here. I paused mid-step, swore under my breath, and paled subconsciously.
"Akane?" The other me said, trying to snap me back to attention. I was attentive all right. I was trying to focus on his aura. It was strong, but tight, preventing me from finding out just how close he was. When I finally thought I had it, he disappeared, as was usual of his power level. Then I realized my fatal mistake.
"Hello, love." A quiet, dark voice, laced with venom meant for me, and exposed for all to see—and feel. That was the extent of his power—he could make it known through his voice. What was more, he had learned a technique that allowed him to exploit this ability. He could generate ki blasts from his voice. He did it with such ease that it was a wonder he talked to anyone at all; for fear that he would injure them. Then again, I wondered, did he have fear? Sometimes I wondered if he truly was human, but there were those times when I had no doubts at all…
Then he appeared in front of us, and I realized—he didn't know which of us it was. He looked to my other self and then to Akane. My twin must have been masking her emotions rather well, a surprising feat for someone like… well, me, and I supposed her as well. But if her control with the situation back with her Ranma was any indication, she had great control over her emotions—an improvement over the past, it seemed.
Then the other Ranma appeared, behind me.
"Who the hell are--" That's when he noticed the pigtail and distinctive blue eyes. Truly, my Ranma couldn't be told apart from a shadow nowadays. Even darker, quieter, and deadlier than when he had first arrived at the Tendo dojo, he was far from the Ranma here. He wore all black, from his Mandarin shirt to his slippers. His pigtail was even tied with a thin black cord.
The Ranma of this time cracked his knuckles, as if readying for a fight. He must have sensed the power about my husband. But then he dropped his defenses, and eyed his other self with some scrutiny. All my hopes that I would be protected were quickly flying out the window.
'Ranma… you can't…!'
"How the hell did Akane get so hurt?" Thank god Ranma—that is to say, this time's Ranma, didn't gesture directly to me. My husband could have just whispered and blasted this Ranma back to the wall. I didn't doubt the talent and skill of this time's Ranma, but I knew he was too unprepared for the raw violence my husband exhibited on a daily basis. I knew… I was the target.
'How did Ranma know about my injuries, though?' I thought. It was possible he just knew, from the weakness of my aura and ki, or he could have seen some of the bruises… somehow.
My husband flinched, and for a moment, I thought I saw that compassion again. I latched on to it with all that I had, and stepped forward. My husband's eyes narrowed again, and he seemed to grin almost demonically when I came forward of my own will.
"Akane!" My twin grabbed my arm. It stung. I had a fresh wound there—a purpling bruise. Her thumb pressed into it, telling me that the pain I was experiencing now would only get worse.
"You… you did this to her?" My twin's Ranma asked coldly. He stared at his own twin, disbelieving. Akane looked at me with sad eyes, and at Ranma's twin—my husband—with anger. But neither of them could stand up to Ranma. My husband had defeated monsters, demons, a god reincarnate, and the lord of Mount Phoenix, Saffron…
"Please, love… don't be angry with them. I just…"
"Ran away! I never thought you would…" I stared at him with emotionless eyes. How could he not believe that I would try?
"I thought we needed some time apart."
"'Time apart?!' What in the seven hells were you thinking--" My husband's eyes narrowed, but I stopped him with a finger on his lips. This was the closest I'd ever gotten to him in a long time, and if I 'played my cards right,' so to speak, then I would get past his defenses long enough so he could listen to me…
You see, it all started about a week ago. I was getting close to something. Ranma was starting to be open with me, and inside, I felt as though I was helping a lost child. I wanted Ranma to realize I didn't want to hurt him, and that I was in love with him. He'd proved that he cared for me—regardless of what Yuka, Sayuri, and Nabiki insisted was sadistic behavior. He saved my life—brought me back from the dead. I know I hadn't imagined things when he'd screamed that he loved me…
For the first time in 18 months, we'd made love. At least, that's the way I thought of it. He'd had a fight with Ukyo, and thankfully was not in the mood for "sparring" that night. Rather, when he slipped into bed that evening, in our small little apartment, he'd kissed my neck. I went stiff, and froze even as he kissed lower, on my shoulders, and my collarbone.
He had never been this intimate before. I was beginning to see a human side of him, one that needed me. Maybe in a more primitive way than I hoped for, but gods, this was a start…
I realized after he'd disposed of my shirt that I was enjoying this sudden change of affections he was displaying. I didn't feel that surge of fear and unknowing… that fear I'd felt for so long around everybody. I wanted to be with him. Not just to be wanted by him, but because I wanted him too. I was ready.
When I started kissing him back, he paused. His eyes had something in them that I'd never seen before—unrestrained emotion. He was still a little boy at heart. Even if I was immature too, even if I still stung when my history came back to haunt me… I was ready for this. I wanted to help him, and be with him.
I treasure the memories of that night like… well, it has no comparison to anything. It was incredible. That night started something for us. Even if he didn't realize he was doing it, I heard him whisper that he loved me, while he slept. His arms around me that night, I shared his dreams. Maybe he knew that I saw those shining eyes, and his childish form, quivering in the shadows of a pit of starving cats. His greatest fear.
Following that nightmare, one so real that it left marks, I saw a simple thing—a room, with a woman. Her back was to us, and my now-18-year-old husband stared at her with a melancholy expression. I could not touch him, nor talk to him. I wanted to find out who the woman was somehow, but the answer came to me when the woman turned around. She was faceless, but held a katana in her hand. Poised it at Ranma's neck, and, defying the laws of nature by speaking without a mouth, proclaimed that Ranma was not manly enough. He was cursed, and had brought dishonor to the family name. The only way to regain it would be through seppuku.
That's when it all came together. Why Genma stayed with the Tendos, after Ranma and I were already married. Never contacting his wife, and at all costs, being gone or in his panda form whenever she came to call…
Mrs. Saotome had come to the Tendo home a few times before Ranma and I moved out to our own apartment. But she'd never met Ranma; he was either coincidentally gone, or in his girl form. Why he never changed back, I didn't know. I always saw a sad look in Ranma's eyes, but could never figure out why. Mrs. Saotome wasn't very forthcoming with information about her son either—she only said what I already knew—that Ranma had gone on a ten-year training journey, and she hadn't seen him since he was a young boy.
It wasn't until I shared that night with Ranma that I realized there must have been some kind of binding agreement between Genma, Ranma, and Mrs. Saotome. If she didn't deem him 'manly' enough, then he would be forced to commit ritual seppuku in order to restore the family honor. And I knew he would do it too—he put honor on a pedestal. A higher one than I, his wife, was on.
All these traumatic events and more, I believed, had shaped him into the introverted man he was. It wasn't as if he had no control over his actions, but sometimes his emotions… and like me, his history, got the better of him, and he didn't know what he was doing anymore.
It wasn't his entire fault. It was mine, it was Genma's, and it was Nabiki's, and yes, even Kasumi's fault. We all were part of his life, and were all responsible for him… and for ourselves, and each other. He was a small child, untaught, fragile, and in need of a guiding hand. A hand that his father was unwilling to provide, and one that his mother was unable to provide.
I felt as though the burden on my shoulders had been lightened. Unlike Nabiki, who would exploit Ranma's weaknesses, if she knew of them, or Kasumi, who would gently, if not stubbornly, tell Ranma to get over them, I could relate. I had been through some tough heartache too. I had lost my mother, but by marrying Ranma, gained a new one. He had to realize that what he thought he had lost could be found, and regained.
He wasn't stuck as a heartless man…
I opened my eyes, looking up into his. That fathomless blue that could be either comforting or frightening; swimming with emotions unchecked and untold. He seemed to be contemplating what to do or say next; he never let me get this close, and I suppose he enjoyed it a bit as well, even if wild horses wouldn't drag that truth out of his lips.
That was when I noticed his barrier. He'd formed a sort of sonic barrier around the room. Visible only in the sense that it looked like one of those mirages you saw on the road on a hot day. Rippling, swirling, but ever present. This, unlike a mirage, was totally real, and very painful should you touch it.
My own instinctual fear rising from my heart to my throat, I slid from around him to his waist—I was now on the floor, clutching at his hips and praying he wouldn't hurt me… he didn't need to, and I hoped he realized that, for both our sakes….
"You lied to me."
It was all he said, and I started crying. Not the kind of sobbing, sniffling, heaving cries, but the silent staring cries, like what you get when you watch a sad movie.
"No, Ranma, I wouldn't…"
"Shut up!" He yelled, and I fell to the floor.
'He didn't mean to do that. He didn't mean to hurt me…'
I tried to chant that to myself, tried to believe it, but my doubts were resurging with the force of his sonic attack. He was hurting me again. Not helping me. This time, he didn't have that wild, uncontrolled look in his eyes. He really wanted to hurt me.
"What do you want from me?" I sobbed, letting my emotions get the better of me once more. I felt brutalized and upset that I had not listened to all my friends—and even my own sister's advice. Gods, I wished Kasumi were here, with her strong will and comforting words. But luck was never on my side. I was meant to be unhappy all my life, attached by honor to the sadistic man I was in love with…
Why couldn't I just fall out of love with him? Why couldn't I just leave? It was one of those rhetorical, answerless questions. I took the punches, the ki blasts, the cold stares and harsh words because I loved him. I had no idea why. I believed in Ranma. Maybe not in my ability to help him get past his pain… maybe I really wasn't cut out for that kind of job, but I believed that Ranma's future, one day, would brighten. That he would be with his mother, and… he could be happy. If not with me, or his family, then someone… someone…
My chest was heaving now, and I felt all eyes on me. That wall I had subconsciously put up after being married to Ranma fell. I had put up a wall to protect myself from the hurt of my classmates. In high school, that reputation of being a callous, cold bitch remained, but I preferred things that way. Then Ranma came, and my wall came down. I saw myself in him, I suppose. But another wall had gone up. Not to protect myself from my own fears, but from Ranma. To bind all my emotions and past away, so that I could care for him. If I were to be selfish, I would lose him for sure.
I had every right to be selfish. All this time, I had put his safety, his life, his health and welfare on the line, forgetting about my own. I saw my family and my sisters in a new light. Internal suffering, because I didn't listen to them. Didn't heed their good advice, and ended up being brutalized by a man I loved. It wasn't just Ranma that needed help, it was me too. What kind of person accepts abuse just like that?
*=O=*
Kasumi Tendo had been out shopping early that afternoon when it started to rain. She had, at first, taken shelter in the local mall, and gotten absorbed in the variety of things there. It wasn't often she stayed out for too long, not unless it would better benefit the household.
Herself, Akane, Ranma Nabiki, Genma, and Father. Six people in the crowded Tendo household. Each had their own separate things to do each day, so when they came home, Kasumi made it her duty to have everything ready. It was part of the Anything Goes teachings, she supposed. Having everything and anything ready, for any situation. How ironic—everyone viewed her as the pacifist, abhorring fighting, and not knowing how to fight if it meant her life. But Kasumi had her own ways of fighting. Sometimes with words and tone of voice, other times with cooking.
Never having really thought about herself that much before, Kasumi wandered the mall idly, taking in all the sights. She saw clock and crystal shops, clothing and leather stores, restaurants of all varieties, and so many knick-knacks that she was tempted to spend the rest of her shopping money on some of them, if just to spice up her room a bit.
But soon she grew bored, and realized why she never came here. It was no fun to go shopping alone. Kasumi wished that her sisters—both of them—were here. She wished then, thinking of Akane, that she would learn to control her temper, so she could better get along with Ranma. Kasumi wasn't oblivious; she saw the romantic tension between the two. One day they would take matters into their own hands, and elope.
Kasumi wasn't wishing for such a romantic tryst; she simply knew it would happen. Ukyo and Shampoo were both nice girls who had gone through hard times because of Ranma, but it wasn't completely his fault. Genma had to learn responsibility, while Ranma learned some common sense. Then maybe Ranma could learn to deal with his 'other problems' before he went off and followed his heart—which Kasumi knew he was apt to do… eventually.
In any case, she was trapped in the mall, waiting for the torrential rains to subside. When she passed by a teenager's trinket shop, she ran into a mother who lived in the same neighborhood as the dojo.
"Oh, hello Ms. Adachi!"
Ms. Adachi turned around, surprised.
"Hello, Kasumi! What are you doing here? I thought you hated malls?"
Kasumi chuckled a little bit and shook her head. "No, I've just never been to one before."
"Really? So how are you enjoying it?"
"It's uh… interesting." Kasumi fumbled for a proper word.
"Hah, you sound like me. I don't know how Momo and her friends can stay here for hours on end!" Ms. Adachi laughed.
"I'm also stuck here until the rain stops. I suppose I could get an umbrella; my old one's broken."
"Well if that's the case, I can give you a ride home. I have my car with me." Ms. Adachi offered.
"I couldn't impose…"
"No imposing! I'm on my way home anyway. But you should probably pick yourself up an umbrella anyway; the forecasters have said the rainy season has just begun!"
"Oh my… well I'll have to do that then. Thank you very much, Ms. Adachi."
"No problem. And please, call me Ririka. We've known each other for so long, from those neighborhood cooking club meets anyway."
"Yes, thank you, Ririka."
The two made their way to a small shop offering umbrellas, and purchased a small one with roses printed all over it. They made their way through the torrential rains under their own separate umbrellas, allowing themselves to get a bit wet when they entered Ms. Adachi's two-year-old car.
Having small chit-chat throughout their fifteen minute ride, Kasumi finally arrived at home. A strange feeling had crept its way into Kasumi's heart as they approached the dojo, and she was eager to get inside.
"Thank you, Ms. Adachi!"
"It's Ririka, Kasumi. And sure, anytime! See you at the next meet!" Mrs. Adachi waved from her window as she drove off, leaving Kasumi standing in front of the dojo, her umbrella up and her shoes quickly getting submerged in a puddle.
Kasumi decided to enter through the laundry room door, where she could dispose of her shoes and socks to dry them off. Doing so, she entered the hallway, and heard some odd sounds… coming from the living room.
=+=
"God dammit, stop!" Ranma was yelling at my twin as she fell. She was crumpling to the ground as if being physically attacked, but the other Ranma—her Ranma… her husband… was only speaking.
Another me wasn't weak, wasn't losing fights. She just couldn't fight them. Those times when I had wondered what it would be like to really fight Ranma were in front of me. Ranma wouldn't willingly fight me, or I him, unless something horrible happened to either of us, and we lost control of ourselves.
Such was the case with my twin here, lying on the ground with sobs racking her form. I wanted to go help her and just kick this other Ranma's ass into the stratosphere, but I couldn't. Not for the same reasons as my double, mind you. I had the mind and the ability to. Perhaps what I lacked was the courage. Or maybe I really didn't have the ability—considering there was a strange, dome-like anomaly in front of us. Us being myself and my… well, the Ranma of this time. It was strange to refer to Ranma as 'my' but that was exactly what my double had been doing when referring the Ranma of this time and to me.
In any case, I was forced to watch my double get beaten by her husband, and for no reasons at all. He was angry, that much I could tell, and apparently his emotions fueled the strange vocal/sonic attacks my double was getting injured by.
"What is going on here?" A familiar voice spoke, with a tone of seriousness, commanding attention. I turned to see my sister, and relief filled me. Unlike the many martial artists of this ward, who could fill one's heart and mind with instant fear and intimidation, Kasumi wielded a far greater power—that of calm. I don't know, and don't think I ever will, understand how around her, people simply relax. It's not magic, and she sure as hell isn't a martial artist… but I guess it's just her way. Her lifestyle and attitude command that kind of feeling from people around her.
Even my double and her husband faced Kasumi, astonishment plain on both their faces. Actually, my double seemed more significantly relieved, especially when the mirage-barrier preventing either Ranma or myself from getting to my double… disappeared.
However, my double did not jump up and run away from her abusive husband as I thought. No one spoke for a moment, and I was afraid that it would all start over again, and this time, Kasumi would be caught in the line of fire. I couldn't let that happen—to my sister, any less than I could let it happen to my other self.
"Please, Ranma, love. I didn't betray you… or lie to you. I would never…"
"Akane…" Her husband said, a warning tone creeping into his voice. The fear rose in me once more, and my legs were powered to go and dog-slide the other Ranma, and just get the hell out of there ASAP.
To hell with honorable fighting; it's not as if her husband was exactly being honorable, being accusing and cruel to his own wife! It surprised me that a Ranma—any Ranma – could be capable of such violence. But I had no idea how he'd been raised, or what he had gone through. I was not my double, nor my double's husband. I was thankful, for the first time in 18 months that I cared to admit, that Ranma was the way he was. Even if he was a jerk half the time…
I stepped forward, barely a decimeter, when an arm stopped me. I turned to my right and saw my own sister holding me back, shaking her head resolutely. I sighed and stayed still. I don't know what my sister expected to happen, but she believed strongly in the non-interference of fights, unless lives were at stake. How could she see what I didn't, when it seemed so obvious that her husband was battering my own double?
"No!" My double got up on shaking legs, startling me. Despite the obvious and overwhelming force of her husband's power, she still had the will to rise! I started seeing more of myself in her, and I wished that I had her courage and spirit.
"If you're insistent on fighting, then I'll fight! But as a Tendo, and not as a Saotome!" She relaxed from her fighting pose, stray tears making their way down her face as she hiccoughed.
"But I don't want to fight you. I don't think I can, not with all my heart in it. And what's a fight worth when one person doesn't want to? When they don't have a cause to fight for? I love you, Ranma."
The other Ranma seemed bewildered, yet suspicious at this. I was blushing madly, for my part, glancing back at my own fiancée as my double proclaimed her love for her Ranma. He was blushing too, and pulling at his collar. Could I hope…?
"But you… you lied to me!" My twin's husband cried, his anger mounting once more.
"What!? What did I lie about to you, Ranma? Tell me!" My twin demanded, defiantly staring him in the eyes. The space between them was dangerously close, as she dared him to try and attack her. For a moment, I thought he would, but…
He dropped his guard. Down, just like that. He relaxed, looking right back at her. His face was almost expressionless, as he tried to read the emotions fueling his wife's discomfort and defiance.
"You… you…"
I think one of the moments I enjoyed the most was when I proved Ranma wrong. He always thought himself right, when it came to everything in the world. But he knew from experience and brutal first fights that his own damned common sense was far from complete and worldly.
"The woman you saw me speaking to, Ranma," My twin emphasized with much force in her voice, "Was your mother." At that, Ranma—both 'mine' and my twin's faltered. At the same time, they whispered, "Mother…?"
This was the clincher, wasn't it? Ranma's greatest weakness had never been cats, or his inability to adapt as immediately as he desired. It was his mother. The woman he'd grown up without. Lessons he could have had, experiences he couldn't relive, and the pain of seeing her, but not really allowed to be with her, as her son.
"Yes," My twin whispered solemnly, loud enough for us all to hear. She looked at her husband in the eyes, her anger and defiance gone. She was relaxed now, smiling as best as she could manage, her lip trembling and tears still coming down her face.
"I love you Ranma. If you're worried about that ritual seppuku…"
Both Ranmas flinched; her husband was still looking at his feet. He deserved any guilt and shame he felt, I was sure of it. As for my twin, I wondered if she thought he deserved any more pain. She cared for him so much. We seemed similar at first, but I guess there was a lot we didn't have in common. A reason why she was so devoted to someone who hurt her so… but maybe, that was how I was too.
"I told your mother that I would accept it, if she found you unworthy of the binding compact."
Again, both Ranmas looked surprised; her husband looked ready to protest, but the impact of her words—the seriousness of it—startled even me.
"You would do that… for me?"
Without thinking, I murmured the same thing as my twin—"Yes."
Any day of the week, any moment. Maybe I was wrong yet again—maybe my twin and I had suffered the same, and only wanted the best for people that we thought didn't deserve to suffer any more than they already had.
The Ranma of this time—my Ranma came up beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder. For once, I saw a true emotion in those eyes. One I wasn't afraid of, or unsure of. He smiled at me, if a bit unsurely. I leaned on him, and he put his arm around my waist.
"Why would she even want to meet me… after everything I've done? Lied to her… hurt you…" My twin's husband drooped his head in a despairing manner.
"She knows you're a very manly man. She never took that damned contract seriously anyway, love, but she still wants to meet you. She loves you."
"Does she… she know?" Ranma was referring to his curse, I was sure.
"Yes. I explained to her… everything. The curse, the cure… she's a bit upset with your Father, but I expected that. But neither of you will have to lose your life because of your 'manliness,' rest assured."
"I believe that we need help, Ranma." My twin continued, taking her husband's hands. She managed a glance in my direction, and smiled at the display of affection Ranma and I were sharing.
"Not you, not me, but both of us. There are things both of us need to know about each other if this marriage is supposed to keep working. And I don't know about you, but I do… I really want this to work. I love you. People have told me I'm crazy for loving you, stupid even, but I can't help it. Gods, I've been silly enough to try and fall out of love with you, but I just… can't do it." She smiled at her upset husband and seemed to force some life back into him.
"Do you want to try?" She asked, deadpan.
The once dark-Ranma, the Ranma responsible for beating and abusing my twin… smiled. It was strange. He'd shown up in the house looking like a shadow or… excuse the irony, an evil twin. With an attitude so unlike the Ranma like mine, a history I couldn't even begin to fathom, and a wife… me, in a manner of speaking… he was the epitomy of what I considered a permanent enemy. No excuses, no second chances. Anyone who beat on a girl was a few lightbulbs short of a chandelier. That's when I realized that was the way Ranma thought. The way I hated. But seeing a different me being beaten—fighting Ranma the way I had always wanted, I saw the logic and… what was it? Perhaps kindness in Ranma's reasoning. It made sense now. If I wanted to avoid getting abused, whether I 'asked for it' in the form of sparring or not… I didn't want to end up like my twin. I wanted to know all I could about Ranma before leaping into marriage with him. You would have thought 18 months could have taught me more about the man that was my fiancée, but perhaps it was not so. I still had 16 years of past to learn about. So did he.
"Yes. I… I can't do it alone." My twin's husband seemed as though he were admitting a great weakness, and both of us felt proud of him. One day, 'my' Ranma would be able to do the same thing. There were no more doubts or questions, I was sure.
"Good." My twin straightened up, forcing her husband to look up and smile at her. They had a long way to go, but I believed they could both get there. With each other, testing each other's strengths and weaknesses… I only hoped Ranma and I could share that level of intimacy one day. Speaking of my fiancée, I was still comfortably in his arms, very near that 'snuggling' I used to gag at so much.
"Can we go home now?" My twin asked her husband.
"Why should I have every say in this marriage? It's a two-way road." He smiled, allowing his wife to take his hand and lead him to where her bag had been placed. From it, she removed the Nanban mirror.
Ranma and I exchanged a glance. So that was how she had gotten here. We didn't need to know how the other Ranma had gotten here; he had displayed enough power for us not to ask.
"Just… one thing." My fiancée spoke up. The other Ranma and Akane looked up at us, curious expressions on their faces. It felt strange to be looking at 'mirror' reflections of us… forgive the pun (they were holding the Nanban mirror, after all) being so open with each other. Or at least my other self was being open with her husband. The other Ranma had a bridge to cross in that area.
"What… what made Mom… uh, your Mom," Ranma gestured to his other self, "Forgive all the stuff? Being gone all the time, and lying about the curse, and stuff? What proved his manliness if she'd never even met him as her son?" Ranma asked from experience, having agonized and fought against his own father for the right to meet his mother. Having been close to seppuku, but earning his mother's trust and love in the end.
My double smiled at him, "That was more than one thing." My fiancée sweatdropped, but prodded for an answer with his body language—tilting his head forward in earnest, awaiting an answer. I must say, I was a bit interested to hear the answer, and so was Kasumi, standing calmly and silently beside me, one ear tilted towards the couple.
"It's simple really. I'm pregnant." My other self smiled.
"WHAT!?" Both Ranmas, Kasumi and I yelled, all at once.
"Time to go!" Akane said, grabbing her husband's arm. She must have forced herself to cry (an easy task, considering; but were her tears happy or sad?) while turned around, and so activated the Nanban mirror. She whispered softly to the mirror, and flashed one last smile at us.
"Take care of each other!" Kasumi yelled at their fading forms. They waved, smiling, as the blue light faded, and our living room was left empty once more. Silence reigned for a good five minutes before I spoke.
"Well, that was interesting."
End of Part 2: Different Circumstances
You can all see why I named it that, right? And those original SL readers, here's the original context! But it's not over yet, oh no! In the final chapter, coming up, we go back to Akane Saotome's world, and watch her –and her husband—go through recovery. Will it be a trying experience? What will they learn about each other? What of Akane's pregnancy, and Nodoka, who has yet to meet her son, a soon-to-be-father?
All of this and more in Part 3: Healing
Email me, okay? azurite_moon@yahoo.com
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