Chapter 7:
Dreaming the Impossible
The ceiling was a smooth, creamy white. Stained by time and rain. Blotches of brown like diluted coffee stared down at her. They were misshapen eyes without pupils and ringed by a darker outline. They were her own eyes, casting accusatory glares on her from above. Ridiculing her for her unintended hypocrisy. Akane couldn't find it in herself to care. They were water stains on the ceiling, and not worth making into something more.
She was lying atop the tidy covers on an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling. She had woken up that way. Her clothes were rumpled and flattened where she had slept on them. But she was comfortable. And warm, even without the sheets. She had woken up that way. In Ranma's arms. He was still asleep. She was still dreaming.
"Hey, wake up, you pervert."
One eye opened, and met hers. And then the stuttering began as he desperately tried to explain. It didn't matter, to her, what his explanation was. She could remember something. A blurred picture of his face and a string of meaningless words.
"And y-you – uh, you – "
"Did I ask to sleep here?"
He nodded dumbly.
"Then… I'm glad… that I could wake this way, just once."
He eyed her warily, propped up on his elbows beside her. She laughed. She couldn't remember the last time she had done that. There was nothing particularly laughable about the situation, but… it was funny to see him flustered. She rolled over and clutched her sides. It was so easy just to forget… and keep dreaming….
He dropped onto the pillows with a soft thump. She heard a soft sigh, and turned towards him. Her laughter slowed, waning until she was allowed to catch her breath. He was watching her, studying her as if he had never before seen a woman and was wondering what one was.
"You've… never done that before…"
She smiled. It felt good.
"You're right."
She was content, to be where she was. It was the simplicity of waking, and not being alone. It was the warmth of his body by hers. It was like a dream; something she yearned for, but could never really have.
They sat on fold-up chairs – the metal kind, rusted and dingy. Akane held a steaming mug between her bare hands, enjoying the warmth. Ranma sat across the table, in what could pass for a kitchen.
"They'll find us now."
She looked up at him.
"What?"
"I can't be tracked, but you can. They'll find this place."
She turned back down to her mug and wished she were still dreaming. Reality was neither cruel nor kind, but it was painful.
"Will we be here when they do?"
"I don't know…"
She thought she should have felt some sort of fear, some sort of alarm. But none came. She was calm, because he was too. It didn't seem quite real. As if they would live forever in this way, in this suspended moment.
"I guess… if we leave… they could follow."
He only nodded absently.
"So… we're not leaving then? We're just going to stay here until…"
"Maybe. Think about it. We can run, but for how long…? I don't really want to try and see. We could stay here and most likely be killed. But I don't want to die before he's dead…"
"There's nothing else…?"
His gaze slid over her.
"You're a detective."
"And…?"
"And you could get the police to help us go after him."
She frowned.
"I'm not doing that."
"Why not?"
She couldn't stand the calm in his voice. He looked triumphant, as if he knew already that she would give in.
"They aren't looking for him, they're looking for you."
"And…?"
"And you'll be killed!"
Her voice had risen. She bit her lip and glared at him. She didn't like to sound so concerned.
"How will they know it's me?"
She opened her mouth to speak, but was left with nothing to say. He was right. No one even knew who he was. Damn him.
"But… if you speak with anyone, then they'll be killed…."
"He'll be dead, I think, before he can get to anyone."
"This is stupid. It won't work."
"Why not?"
She wouldn't meet his eyes.
"There's no reason for it not to."
His voice remained the same smooth, tranquil tone.
"But…"
He was right. There was no reason not to go through with it. There was nothing else to do.
"But I don't want you to die."
"I'm not going to die."
"You don't know that…"
He stood from the table, pushing his chair back. He glanced at her once and gestured for her to follow. Which she did, without pause.
Between the shelves and cupboards that made up Ranma's kitchen was a door. Hiding in the shadows of the back corner. It opened soundlessly, and he stepped into a cramped room. The walls were lined with closed cabinets.
"What is this?"
He didn't turn to answer her, reaching over and opening one of the doors. Over his shoulder she could see its shelves were stacked with weaponry.
"It's a closet."
"We're going to go with your plan, aren't we?"
"Was there ever any doubt?"
"I don't want to."
She stared at the floorboards.
"You can't have everything you want."
It was a wooden floor. Old, and unfinished, and gray with dust.
"But… it's not fair. I… I'm going to die…"
"Nothing is fair."
She looked up. He stood in front of her. So close…
"How long will I live?"
He watched her. His eyes held a sad warmth. A blue glow that was almost ethereal. Because it was only there for her.
"I don't know."
"Maybe… you should kill me now…"
She could see a desperation in his eyes. She could feel it in his kiss. She could feel all the need of a drowning man clinging to a lifeline. She could feel the boundaries between what was and what could have been begin to fade. This was a part of her dream. His lips left hers and she awoke. Something she could never really have.
"I can't do that."
He breathed the words into her hair and stepped away. And she understood. She could never take his life. Just as he could never take hers.
"What if they get here before we're gone?"
The sound of boots against the floor greeted their ears. He glanced at her.
"Speak of the devil…"
Their enemies found only an empty room.
A/N: I'm later than usual, sorry. I had to write this chap. twice cuz the first time it didn't come out right. Once winter vacation starts I expect to have more time to work… school is such a killer… Ok, on to the reviews:
Socchan: Don't worry, you're not that frusterating (Umm…Gym teachers…?)… hmm… did you mean symbiotic? (you wrote symbyotic) As in microscopic organisms that work together to benefit each other? If so, I have no idea what anyone would get from reviewing for me… Oh well, anyway, you're very right about girl-type Ranma. Except that if people stopped being cursed she would still be there, but she would be dormant. I'm not going to write much about her, though, because she doesn't really have a point of view, she's not a real person, and I'm writing this all from Akane's POV. I don't know why. Wow, that was a long one… but it's okay, the longer the better! Thanks a bunch!
Tr1n1tty: Somebody likes my weird writing style! Amazing… well, I can't take all the credit. I read this book called "Cat's Eye" by Margaret Atwood and tried to model my style after hers. I don't recommend reading the book, but I loved the style. It's not exactly like hers, just enough to give off the same kind of dark… umm… ness. You think this is one of the best?! I'm so touched… even if it is just because it's such an odd story. Thanks for reviewing!!
Kura-Kun: Sigh… life is hard for the keyboard challenged…