Three Days:
Day One
By: Crystal_V_Princess
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma ½, though it is doubtless that I wish I did. Rumiko Takahashi (God bless her!) has all rights and er, stuff to the characters and storylines (except the one I'm writing of course!!)
Note: It's true, I usually do most of my writing from Ranma's point of view, and I think this might be because in the manga Ranma seems more affected by Akane's innocent whiles instead of the other way around. I won't blame it on raging teenage male hormones as that would be stereotypical and rude, but let's just say Ranma IS a hot-blooded male in more than just his fighting temperament and skills. However, because he is so inexperienced and shy, it rarely shines through except in extremely provoking situations. Such as when Akane's body was possessed by the spirit of that doll, I'm not sure what book it was-but anyway, he was er, well, he was tempted on a rather, I would say, erotic level (Oh, my goodness! Did I really just write that?!?!). Whereas, Akane rarely, if ever, sees Ranma in a way that surpasses plain love. If she does it is usually in a nightmarish, horrifying form meant to imply her reluctance towards intimacy (Of any kind, don't be perverted!!! Eeeek!) with her fiancé, which isn't surprising considering the circumstances. Therefore, if you notice I write this way, you are right! I do! Sorry if you don't like it!!!!
O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a 'fiery heart': -
These notes of thine - they are pierce and pierce;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!
Thou sing'st as if the God of wine
Had helped thee to a Valentine;
A song in mockery and despite
Of shades, and dews, and silent night;
A steady bliss, and all the loves
Now sleeping in these peaceful groves.
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come - at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed - and cooed:
And somewhat pensively he wooed:
He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song - the song for me!
- "O Nightingale! Thou Surely Art", William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
Ranma woke late the next morning, his arms feeling empty without Akane in them. The night before she'd absently rolled into his embrace, his body spooning hers innocently. The warmth was enough to send him spiraling headfirst into his tangled emotions, struggling blindly to resolve them.
As he'd noticed long ago, Akane slept calmly after a tiring day, especially on warm summer nights, this was to his fortune as he was not pummeled once during the past hours.
Curiously, he hadn't fought with her since Tuesday, and it was Thursday. The pigtailed boy sighed, breathing in the reminiscent scent Akane left wherever she went. He rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow, enveloped in the spectre-like presence of her in the cotton pillowcase.
He suddenly sat up, realizing he couldn't hear her anywhere in the house. Where was she anyway? The boy eased himself up out of the bedding and began to dress. The cool air of morning collided with the heat of his body, sending gooseflesh up his arms and a shiver down his spine.
Stepping out into the foggy atmosphere surrounding the small house, Ranma glanced about, searching the surrounding trees for his missing fiancée, a sudden wave of worry crashing against his contracting heart. He fancied he saw a shadowy and ill-defined form gliding about through the forest. It moved from behind a tall pine and he recognized the girl immediately. Rising from the wall of foliage, as from the stroke of an enchanter's wand, looking so light and ethereal, that he could scarcely believe she was more than a picture reflected in his mind's eye by the illusions of the thin mist of first light.
"Where've you been, Akane?! Geez!" He grumbled as she waltzed past him toward the well pump beside the house and began washing her face. He dodged droplets of cold water flicked from her skin as she shook her head wildly, trying to release the water caught in her bangs.
"Looking around," She replied simply and leaned back against the well with a sigh. "You should try it. This place is really beautiful around dawn." Her voice held awe he rarely heard and he was intrigued by it.
"Oh yeah? Example?" His dark blue eyes, always penetrating, gleamed at her thoughtfully. She reveled inconspicuously beneath them, turning her face away coyly. This was a game they'd play, every now and again, teasing, taunting, daring. Ranma had always prided himself on being a master at it, but lately, the teasing seemed harder to ignore, the dares nearly irresistible.
He advanced on her, closing the distance between them quickly. Akane looked startled but swiftly regained enough composure to choke out a few words. "The sunrise. It's like everything's waking up." Her eyes shone, velvety brown, with silver flecks from the waning lights of sunrise and the pines standing around threw motionless shadows upon her pale skin-it was one of the most singular and beautiful sights he had ever beheld.
Without thinking, Ranma reached to touch her, longing for the comfortingly soft experience of her skin. He had touched her tenderly, sincerely, only a few times since they'd met, and the sense of the contact brought a woozy feeling over him, forcing his eyelids to droop and finally close.
Her warm breath tickled his throat and he realized he'd drawn her to him. She didn't move, not a finger, even to hit him for illicitly making contact with her, as he had not asked, and never would. "Akane-" He whispered, the word a soft, gruff noise from deep within his throat.
"Yes?" Her reply was quiet, hopeful, needy. A small hand snaked between them to rest on the front of his shirt, barely holding the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the crown of her head, brushing the silky hair gently. She was waiting, wanting.
Ranma pulled away slowly, not sure why, and turned from her. "Nothing." He refused to look at her, but could hear the hurt in the girl's voice as she spoke.
"Oh." The pigtailed boy could practically feel her eyes burning into his back, scorching him. He knew what she was doing even without looking at her. Akane was biting her bottom lip, she always did that when she was confused, angry, thinking, or upset, he supposed it was to take her mind off of the pain of those situations by distracting her mind from them by a physical pain. He always seemed to be the cause of that lip biting, and the thought sent a bullet of guilt shooting through him like electricity.
"Listen, Akane, I-" The words were soft and strangled as he spun around to stare into her face, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. Her eyes focused on the pinpricks of light dancing across the treetops towering above them, the beams stenciled on her features like some kind of old Victorian lace design. She held up a hand to silence him. It worked. It always worked.
"Nevermind," She said soberly, trying to disguise the ache in her voice, "It doesn't matter." He recoiled slightly at her words. It did matter. To him at least. But why couldn't he say that?
"I'm going to take a walk." She whispered, her voice barely audible in the beginning sounds of day life. Ranma moved to intercept her, to try and explain, entreat her to rethink her decision, but she stepped past him, her head down-turned. "Alone."
He watched as she retreated into the trees, hating himself more with her every downtrodden footstep. The boy hoped against hope that this would not be the start of a series of arguments yet to come, as they'd been getting along fairly well lately. Sometimes though, hope was not enough.
"Ranma, you jerk-" Akane murmured to herself absently as she plodded through the undergrowth of the forest. "Why do you always do this to me?" Her eyes were glistening, tears threatening to spill at any second. Why couldn't he stop worrying about asking? He could've kissed her back there, could've, but didn't. And it was partially her fault.
She'd accused him so many times of thing he hadn't been guilty of that now he was constantly worried about her opinions of him, though he'd never admit the fact. His sense of self would never permit it.
The shorthaired girl swiped at the salty beads dribbling down her cheeks, her eyes shone like dewy moons. Emotions sped turbulently about in her heart. She raised her clasped hands to her chest, squeezing her eyes closed. "Why?"
She ran silently through woodland, waiting for an answer that would never come.
Ranma stood despondently where his mournful fiancée had left him, trying to pick up the shattered pieces of the day before. They'd both been so nervous, so excited about being together without interference that the insults and anger that was typical and somewhat necessary as a balance, disappeared into the oblivion of their anticipation. Now here it was again, reemerging in the face of emotion as it always did.
The pigtailed boy had been exposed to all kinds of maniacs, strange and supernatural beings or practices, and the like, but it seemed that when he and Akane began to inch anywhere near the margins of sentiment his internal alarm went off and kicked him back into doing or saying something foolish. It was relentless and maddening, and what made it worse was that he couldn't seem to sojourn from this practice.
A cold droplet of water collided with his cheek, and he turned his face upward to the greying sky. As another drip of rain splashed against his skin and Ranma briefly appreciated the soap, he'd swiped from Ryoga, which prevented him from changing into a girl for a limited amount of time. Then he remembered whom he'd washed with that soap for and his strong shoulders slumped miserably. The main reason he wanted to be complete, the reason that was even more important to him than his own self- image, was Akane. What was the point of temporarily sustaining his manhood if she wasn't there to see it?
He walked dejectedly into the house and straight into the bedroom, flopping unceremoniously down on the comforter and pillow. For the second time that morning he let himself become intoxicated by the quintessential representation of the shorthaired girl's essence, lavender. Lavender and rain.
Hours passed, seeming like years. She hadn't come home and he was beginning to get worried again; it would be dark soon and in the mountains there were plenty of things that could happen to a girl all alone, even if she was a martial artist.
He stepped back out into the wet outdoors, holding one hand above his eyes as he stood on the porch, checking quickly to see if she was anywhere nearby. He wordlessly hoped she might emerge from the mists as she had that morning, astonishing and annoying him. But to his consternation her apparition-like appearance wasn't seconded.
A clap of thunder rose above his head and Ranma ran towards the trees, suddenly more bothered than before. If there was one thing he knew about Akane, it was that she didn't like thunder, not that she had stated it openly to him, but there were signs. Her tensed body, the tightly knit eyebrows and scrunched forehead, apparent to no one but him.
A panicked expression fixed itself on his intense features and he glanced about rapidly while he moved. "Akane!" His voice rang out in the booming, angry crack of rumbling. "Akane! Where are you?!"
The pigtailed boy dashed through the underbrush, his red silk shirt catching on the sharp little branches sticking out like menacing skeletal fingers from the bushes. He heard a loud tearing and felt himself falling face-first into the muddy, bucolic path made more by animals than people.
Looking up to survey the damage, he saw a large rip lancing across his side, exposing a long, vicious red welt rising quickly against his fair skin.
He pushed himself up on his haunches, clutching his fists on top of his knees, eyes closed tightly. Since he was a child he'd always been taught that to cry was a direct malignity against masculinity. But as the possibilities of Akane's disappearance rushed vigorously through his head, he felt warm droplets trickle down his face.
Ranma's heart fell further into desolation as the rain plummeted unceasingly to the ground, mingling with his tears. He hadn't cried in so long, it seemed as if a barrier had broken loose and everything that he'd been feeling since he had moved to Nerima came crashing down.
The boy shook gently as a wind blew past him, and stood, arms stretched down by his sides. "Damn you, Akane-" He whispered, gritting his teeth against the cold that was beginning to overtake his body. "Why'd you have to run away-" He ran a calloused hand across his face and through his bangs, pushing them away from his eyes.
With a sigh of loss he walked slowly back to the domicile, ignoring the rain falling hard across his back. "Damn me too-"
The sun had already set, and the red reflected light of the western sky illuminated the scene with the peculiar effect with which he was familiar. The room seemed very dark, but through the window shone the same dusky light.
He sat down and looked out upon the richly-wooded landscape that glowed grand and melancholy light which was every moment fading. Watching the dark, shapeless clouds drift mockingly across the horizon, Ranma bit his bottom lip in a gesture that was surprisingly like the one Akane performed all the time. She'd be back soon. She had to be. It was the hundredth time he'd told himself that and still she hadn't arrived.
As if on cue, a light and rapid tread on the wooden floorboards of the porch echoed in his ears and he rose quickly, progressing forward toward the door. But before he could reach it the door was flung open and Akane rushed into the room. She looked wild, fierce and haggard with terror and exhaustion, her summer dress dirty and torn. Her cherry-blossom lips moved silently and for a moment Ranma thought she might fall senseless to the floor. He rushed forward, instinctively grasping her biceps to hold her steady.
"Ranma!" She cried, her jaw quivering slightly as she reached for him, burying her face in the front of his shirt unabashedly.
Astonished and almost scared at the strange agitation in which the call was made, he circled his arms around her comfortingly. After a moment, she seemed to realize their propinquity and moved away from his reassuring hold to where he'd lit a fire in the irori fireplace. "I got lost." She said, turning her face so he couldn't quite see it all the way. She was drawing her heart away from him, the same way he did to her so frequently. The way he had that very morning.
Ranma wanted to scream at her how terrified he'd been when she'd gone missing, to yell at her for a better explanation. But he didn't, he was too fearful that she might abscond into the forest again at any loud comment, so he said the only thing he could under the circumstances. "Ahh-" It was a breathy, knowing sound made from somewhere in his chest.
Then he nodded at her and went swiftly into the bathroom, retrieving a towel. Sitting down beside her, he reached out to rub the terrycloth down her damp shoulder and arm.
Akane turned on him quickly, her face unsure and amazed at the sudden show of tenderness. He glanced up at her, then went back to his labours to dry her off. She smiled at him through half-closed lips and Ranma felt his body warm considerably beneath her gaze.
The towel moved to her cheek and he patted the clamminess from her smooth skin softly. She appeared to glow and he had the feeling he might look as if he were too. His mouth moved unconsciously, and he began to babble things he'd never even think of saying under any other circumstances. "You're really-um, you know I think-really-not-I mean-I think you're really-beautiful-" The boy's face flamed red and he stopped his ministrations abruptly.
He saw Akane scanning him from beneath her willow-leaf brows while she was pretending to look into the fire. "You're shirt's torn." She stated, as if what he'd just blurted were the most natural thing in the world for him to say.
Ranma mutely thanked her and fiddled with the slashed edges of the material. "Yeah. It got ripped on a branch." He realized after a minute that she would ask him why on earth he would be running around in sharp bushes and then he would have to admit that he had been wrought with worry for her.
The shorthaired girl smiled inwardly and pretended to disregard his comment. "Hold on. I'll get the sewing box." She stood gracefully and walked into the master bedroom, returning a few minutes later with a small wooden box that slightly resembled a lunchbox and clothed in her white nightgown.
Lowering herself back on the floor, she pulled out a spool of red thread and began counting out the proper amount of inches needed to sew up the gash. Though Ranma was a little nervous about Akane using a needle in immediacy with his body, he allowed her to begin her work, closing his eyes so as not to be able to supply himself with any stupid remarks that might ruin the peaceful moment. "There!" She exclaimed, after a unexpectedly short period time, and leaning her head forward to sever the extra thread with her teeth, a warm exhalation of breath drifting across his side. "All finished!" He looked down at her handiwork and was relieved to see that he was not only un- scathed, but that she had gotten better in her sewing since the last time he'd born witness to it.
She swiveled from her position facing him to put the spool and needle back into the box. He watched as she turned, exposing to his vision the seductive dive of her nightdress from behind. His eyes traveled across the fine lines of her shoulder blades and the graceful curve of her back. The smooth flesh looked warm and inviting.
Her head bent forward as she placed the lid back on the case and, feeling happy and bold, he reached out a finger to trace the delicate stroke of her spine. He saw her back arch responsively and he pressed his hand flat against the curl. His fingers fondling the skin gently, his two hands moving to her hold her waist. Ranma leaned in toward her, his chin nearly resting on her shoulder. "Thanks, Akane." He whispered, closing his eyes to inhale the aroma he loved. It was the first time in a while she'd actually allowed him get close enough to experience it outright, the waves of her scent caressing his face.
"Mm-hm." She murmured back, not turning to look at him, "No problem." Her voice was husky and soft in the comfortable silence of the room.
Ranma removed his hands from her hips and she rose as if she were some celestial body released from gravity once again. Her bare feet moved noiselessly across the floorboards and Ranma observed that she more glided than walked. "Akane-" He heard his voice call to her, stopping her abruptly in her actions.
He arose and found himself nearing the black-haired girl's slight form, her back still opposite him. "Akane-" He couldn't think of anything else to say, but it seemed like enough for her and she turned to him slowly. Her velvety brown eyes expectant.
The boy clutched her wrist gently and remained silent for a minute. "I-I just-" Not exactly sure of what he was going to reveal, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers.
They were barely touching, Ranma simply holding her wrist, Akane's arms hanging limply by her sides. To anyone else it might have seemed strange to kiss somebody so deeply without any other sort of physical contact, but as Ranma pulled away, examining his fiancée's face for any reluctance or disappointment, then finding none, it was the most intimate kiss that could have ever occurred between the two.
Shocked and pleased with himself, he couldn't let go of her wrist, or move an inch, or take his eyes off her; his very heart stood still. And in an instant she opened her eyes.
"Good night, Ranma." She said, her face glowing with happiness. He smiled and freed her.
"Good night." He replied, taking a step back, watching this beautiful girl shimmering in the dancing flames of the firelight.
Akane's lips curled delicately and she slid the door open quietly, ducking into the darkness of the bedroom and leaving the pigtailed boy with his thoughts.
As he listened to her getting comfortable beneath the quilt behind the closed paper door, Ranma fell back against the wall, not sure his knees would hold him. He closed his eyes and sighed with satisfaction. "What a day-"
Author's Note: Um, I was drinking "French Vanilla" cappuccino only minutes before I started writing this, so it was still going through my system when I was typing on the keyboard. I am a "coffee person", so sometimes I get a little carried away after a few cups-hee, hee, hope you like it anyway. My friends think I'm a hopeless romantic (Which I am!!! And proud of it!!!), and drama-queen (Well-maybe, but, never mind, hee, hee, hee-) so this fic contains a large quantity of both those factors (as do all my other fics). If you would like to read any of my other stories, just click on my name and it will give you a listing of my stories!!! Please read what you like, and review if you can!!!! I appreciate ALL opinions!!!! Thank you soooooooooo much for the encouragement you guys! I saw that you liked "Lost In You.", which was a chappie story ( CS) and so I decided that though I love to write one-shots, that I'd do another CS, just for fun. Hope you like this one as much as you liked "Lost In You." (If you DID like it, that is, er, yeah-).
Lots 'a love!
Your lady!
Crystal_V_Princess ;P
Day One
By: Crystal_V_Princess
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma ½, though it is doubtless that I wish I did. Rumiko Takahashi (God bless her!) has all rights and er, stuff to the characters and storylines (except the one I'm writing of course!!)
Note: It's true, I usually do most of my writing from Ranma's point of view, and I think this might be because in the manga Ranma seems more affected by Akane's innocent whiles instead of the other way around. I won't blame it on raging teenage male hormones as that would be stereotypical and rude, but let's just say Ranma IS a hot-blooded male in more than just his fighting temperament and skills. However, because he is so inexperienced and shy, it rarely shines through except in extremely provoking situations. Such as when Akane's body was possessed by the spirit of that doll, I'm not sure what book it was-but anyway, he was er, well, he was tempted on a rather, I would say, erotic level (Oh, my goodness! Did I really just write that?!?!). Whereas, Akane rarely, if ever, sees Ranma in a way that surpasses plain love. If she does it is usually in a nightmarish, horrifying form meant to imply her reluctance towards intimacy (Of any kind, don't be perverted!!! Eeeek!) with her fiancé, which isn't surprising considering the circumstances. Therefore, if you notice I write this way, you are right! I do! Sorry if you don't like it!!!!
O Nightingale! thou surely art
A creature of a 'fiery heart': -
These notes of thine - they are pierce and pierce;
Tumultuous harmony and fierce!
Thou sing'st as if the God of wine
Had helped thee to a Valentine;
A song in mockery and despite
Of shades, and dews, and silent night;
A steady bliss, and all the loves
Now sleeping in these peaceful groves.
I heard a Stock-dove sing or say
His homely tale, this very day;
His voice was buried among trees,
Yet to be come - at by the breeze:
He did not cease; but cooed - and cooed:
And somewhat pensively he wooed:
He sang of love, with quiet blending,
Slow to begin, and never ending;
Of serious faith, and inward glee;
That was the song - the song for me!
- "O Nightingale! Thou Surely Art", William Wordsworth (1770-1850).
Ranma woke late the next morning, his arms feeling empty without Akane in them. The night before she'd absently rolled into his embrace, his body spooning hers innocently. The warmth was enough to send him spiraling headfirst into his tangled emotions, struggling blindly to resolve them.
As he'd noticed long ago, Akane slept calmly after a tiring day, especially on warm summer nights, this was to his fortune as he was not pummeled once during the past hours.
Curiously, he hadn't fought with her since Tuesday, and it was Thursday. The pigtailed boy sighed, breathing in the reminiscent scent Akane left wherever she went. He rolled onto his stomach and pressed his face into the pillow, enveloped in the spectre-like presence of her in the cotton pillowcase.
He suddenly sat up, realizing he couldn't hear her anywhere in the house. Where was she anyway? The boy eased himself up out of the bedding and began to dress. The cool air of morning collided with the heat of his body, sending gooseflesh up his arms and a shiver down his spine.
Stepping out into the foggy atmosphere surrounding the small house, Ranma glanced about, searching the surrounding trees for his missing fiancée, a sudden wave of worry crashing against his contracting heart. He fancied he saw a shadowy and ill-defined form gliding about through the forest. It moved from behind a tall pine and he recognized the girl immediately. Rising from the wall of foliage, as from the stroke of an enchanter's wand, looking so light and ethereal, that he could scarcely believe she was more than a picture reflected in his mind's eye by the illusions of the thin mist of first light.
"Where've you been, Akane?! Geez!" He grumbled as she waltzed past him toward the well pump beside the house and began washing her face. He dodged droplets of cold water flicked from her skin as she shook her head wildly, trying to release the water caught in her bangs.
"Looking around," She replied simply and leaned back against the well with a sigh. "You should try it. This place is really beautiful around dawn." Her voice held awe he rarely heard and he was intrigued by it.
"Oh yeah? Example?" His dark blue eyes, always penetrating, gleamed at her thoughtfully. She reveled inconspicuously beneath them, turning her face away coyly. This was a game they'd play, every now and again, teasing, taunting, daring. Ranma had always prided himself on being a master at it, but lately, the teasing seemed harder to ignore, the dares nearly irresistible.
He advanced on her, closing the distance between them quickly. Akane looked startled but swiftly regained enough composure to choke out a few words. "The sunrise. It's like everything's waking up." Her eyes shone, velvety brown, with silver flecks from the waning lights of sunrise and the pines standing around threw motionless shadows upon her pale skin-it was one of the most singular and beautiful sights he had ever beheld.
Without thinking, Ranma reached to touch her, longing for the comfortingly soft experience of her skin. He had touched her tenderly, sincerely, only a few times since they'd met, and the sense of the contact brought a woozy feeling over him, forcing his eyelids to droop and finally close.
Her warm breath tickled his throat and he realized he'd drawn her to him. She didn't move, not a finger, even to hit him for illicitly making contact with her, as he had not asked, and never would. "Akane-" He whispered, the word a soft, gruff noise from deep within his throat.
"Yes?" Her reply was quiet, hopeful, needy. A small hand snaked between them to rest on the front of his shirt, barely holding the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the crown of her head, brushing the silky hair gently. She was waiting, wanting.
Ranma pulled away slowly, not sure why, and turned from her. "Nothing." He refused to look at her, but could hear the hurt in the girl's voice as she spoke.
"Oh." The pigtailed boy could practically feel her eyes burning into his back, scorching him. He knew what she was doing even without looking at her. Akane was biting her bottom lip, she always did that when she was confused, angry, thinking, or upset, he supposed it was to take her mind off of the pain of those situations by distracting her mind from them by a physical pain. He always seemed to be the cause of that lip biting, and the thought sent a bullet of guilt shooting through him like electricity.
"Listen, Akane, I-" The words were soft and strangled as he spun around to stare into her face, but she wasn't looking at him anymore. Her eyes focused on the pinpricks of light dancing across the treetops towering above them, the beams stenciled on her features like some kind of old Victorian lace design. She held up a hand to silence him. It worked. It always worked.
"Nevermind," She said soberly, trying to disguise the ache in her voice, "It doesn't matter." He recoiled slightly at her words. It did matter. To him at least. But why couldn't he say that?
"I'm going to take a walk." She whispered, her voice barely audible in the beginning sounds of day life. Ranma moved to intercept her, to try and explain, entreat her to rethink her decision, but she stepped past him, her head down-turned. "Alone."
He watched as she retreated into the trees, hating himself more with her every downtrodden footstep. The boy hoped against hope that this would not be the start of a series of arguments yet to come, as they'd been getting along fairly well lately. Sometimes though, hope was not enough.
"Ranma, you jerk-" Akane murmured to herself absently as she plodded through the undergrowth of the forest. "Why do you always do this to me?" Her eyes were glistening, tears threatening to spill at any second. Why couldn't he stop worrying about asking? He could've kissed her back there, could've, but didn't. And it was partially her fault.
She'd accused him so many times of thing he hadn't been guilty of that now he was constantly worried about her opinions of him, though he'd never admit the fact. His sense of self would never permit it.
The shorthaired girl swiped at the salty beads dribbling down her cheeks, her eyes shone like dewy moons. Emotions sped turbulently about in her heart. She raised her clasped hands to her chest, squeezing her eyes closed. "Why?"
She ran silently through woodland, waiting for an answer that would never come.
Ranma stood despondently where his mournful fiancée had left him, trying to pick up the shattered pieces of the day before. They'd both been so nervous, so excited about being together without interference that the insults and anger that was typical and somewhat necessary as a balance, disappeared into the oblivion of their anticipation. Now here it was again, reemerging in the face of emotion as it always did.
The pigtailed boy had been exposed to all kinds of maniacs, strange and supernatural beings or practices, and the like, but it seemed that when he and Akane began to inch anywhere near the margins of sentiment his internal alarm went off and kicked him back into doing or saying something foolish. It was relentless and maddening, and what made it worse was that he couldn't seem to sojourn from this practice.
A cold droplet of water collided with his cheek, and he turned his face upward to the greying sky. As another drip of rain splashed against his skin and Ranma briefly appreciated the soap, he'd swiped from Ryoga, which prevented him from changing into a girl for a limited amount of time. Then he remembered whom he'd washed with that soap for and his strong shoulders slumped miserably. The main reason he wanted to be complete, the reason that was even more important to him than his own self- image, was Akane. What was the point of temporarily sustaining his manhood if she wasn't there to see it?
He walked dejectedly into the house and straight into the bedroom, flopping unceremoniously down on the comforter and pillow. For the second time that morning he let himself become intoxicated by the quintessential representation of the shorthaired girl's essence, lavender. Lavender and rain.
Hours passed, seeming like years. She hadn't come home and he was beginning to get worried again; it would be dark soon and in the mountains there were plenty of things that could happen to a girl all alone, even if she was a martial artist.
He stepped back out into the wet outdoors, holding one hand above his eyes as he stood on the porch, checking quickly to see if she was anywhere nearby. He wordlessly hoped she might emerge from the mists as she had that morning, astonishing and annoying him. But to his consternation her apparition-like appearance wasn't seconded.
A clap of thunder rose above his head and Ranma ran towards the trees, suddenly more bothered than before. If there was one thing he knew about Akane, it was that she didn't like thunder, not that she had stated it openly to him, but there were signs. Her tensed body, the tightly knit eyebrows and scrunched forehead, apparent to no one but him.
A panicked expression fixed itself on his intense features and he glanced about rapidly while he moved. "Akane!" His voice rang out in the booming, angry crack of rumbling. "Akane! Where are you?!"
The pigtailed boy dashed through the underbrush, his red silk shirt catching on the sharp little branches sticking out like menacing skeletal fingers from the bushes. He heard a loud tearing and felt himself falling face-first into the muddy, bucolic path made more by animals than people.
Looking up to survey the damage, he saw a large rip lancing across his side, exposing a long, vicious red welt rising quickly against his fair skin.
He pushed himself up on his haunches, clutching his fists on top of his knees, eyes closed tightly. Since he was a child he'd always been taught that to cry was a direct malignity against masculinity. But as the possibilities of Akane's disappearance rushed vigorously through his head, he felt warm droplets trickle down his face.
Ranma's heart fell further into desolation as the rain plummeted unceasingly to the ground, mingling with his tears. He hadn't cried in so long, it seemed as if a barrier had broken loose and everything that he'd been feeling since he had moved to Nerima came crashing down.
The boy shook gently as a wind blew past him, and stood, arms stretched down by his sides. "Damn you, Akane-" He whispered, gritting his teeth against the cold that was beginning to overtake his body. "Why'd you have to run away-" He ran a calloused hand across his face and through his bangs, pushing them away from his eyes.
With a sigh of loss he walked slowly back to the domicile, ignoring the rain falling hard across his back. "Damn me too-"
The sun had already set, and the red reflected light of the western sky illuminated the scene with the peculiar effect with which he was familiar. The room seemed very dark, but through the window shone the same dusky light.
He sat down and looked out upon the richly-wooded landscape that glowed grand and melancholy light which was every moment fading. Watching the dark, shapeless clouds drift mockingly across the horizon, Ranma bit his bottom lip in a gesture that was surprisingly like the one Akane performed all the time. She'd be back soon. She had to be. It was the hundredth time he'd told himself that and still she hadn't arrived.
As if on cue, a light and rapid tread on the wooden floorboards of the porch echoed in his ears and he rose quickly, progressing forward toward the door. But before he could reach it the door was flung open and Akane rushed into the room. She looked wild, fierce and haggard with terror and exhaustion, her summer dress dirty and torn. Her cherry-blossom lips moved silently and for a moment Ranma thought she might fall senseless to the floor. He rushed forward, instinctively grasping her biceps to hold her steady.
"Ranma!" She cried, her jaw quivering slightly as she reached for him, burying her face in the front of his shirt unabashedly.
Astonished and almost scared at the strange agitation in which the call was made, he circled his arms around her comfortingly. After a moment, she seemed to realize their propinquity and moved away from his reassuring hold to where he'd lit a fire in the irori fireplace. "I got lost." She said, turning her face so he couldn't quite see it all the way. She was drawing her heart away from him, the same way he did to her so frequently. The way he had that very morning.
Ranma wanted to scream at her how terrified he'd been when she'd gone missing, to yell at her for a better explanation. But he didn't, he was too fearful that she might abscond into the forest again at any loud comment, so he said the only thing he could under the circumstances. "Ahh-" It was a breathy, knowing sound made from somewhere in his chest.
Then he nodded at her and went swiftly into the bathroom, retrieving a towel. Sitting down beside her, he reached out to rub the terrycloth down her damp shoulder and arm.
Akane turned on him quickly, her face unsure and amazed at the sudden show of tenderness. He glanced up at her, then went back to his labours to dry her off. She smiled at him through half-closed lips and Ranma felt his body warm considerably beneath her gaze.
The towel moved to her cheek and he patted the clamminess from her smooth skin softly. She appeared to glow and he had the feeling he might look as if he were too. His mouth moved unconsciously, and he began to babble things he'd never even think of saying under any other circumstances. "You're really-um, you know I think-really-not-I mean-I think you're really-beautiful-" The boy's face flamed red and he stopped his ministrations abruptly.
He saw Akane scanning him from beneath her willow-leaf brows while she was pretending to look into the fire. "You're shirt's torn." She stated, as if what he'd just blurted were the most natural thing in the world for him to say.
Ranma mutely thanked her and fiddled with the slashed edges of the material. "Yeah. It got ripped on a branch." He realized after a minute that she would ask him why on earth he would be running around in sharp bushes and then he would have to admit that he had been wrought with worry for her.
The shorthaired girl smiled inwardly and pretended to disregard his comment. "Hold on. I'll get the sewing box." She stood gracefully and walked into the master bedroom, returning a few minutes later with a small wooden box that slightly resembled a lunchbox and clothed in her white nightgown.
Lowering herself back on the floor, she pulled out a spool of red thread and began counting out the proper amount of inches needed to sew up the gash. Though Ranma was a little nervous about Akane using a needle in immediacy with his body, he allowed her to begin her work, closing his eyes so as not to be able to supply himself with any stupid remarks that might ruin the peaceful moment. "There!" She exclaimed, after a unexpectedly short period time, and leaning her head forward to sever the extra thread with her teeth, a warm exhalation of breath drifting across his side. "All finished!" He looked down at her handiwork and was relieved to see that he was not only un- scathed, but that she had gotten better in her sewing since the last time he'd born witness to it.
She swiveled from her position facing him to put the spool and needle back into the box. He watched as she turned, exposing to his vision the seductive dive of her nightdress from behind. His eyes traveled across the fine lines of her shoulder blades and the graceful curve of her back. The smooth flesh looked warm and inviting.
Her head bent forward as she placed the lid back on the case and, feeling happy and bold, he reached out a finger to trace the delicate stroke of her spine. He saw her back arch responsively and he pressed his hand flat against the curl. His fingers fondling the skin gently, his two hands moving to her hold her waist. Ranma leaned in toward her, his chin nearly resting on her shoulder. "Thanks, Akane." He whispered, closing his eyes to inhale the aroma he loved. It was the first time in a while she'd actually allowed him get close enough to experience it outright, the waves of her scent caressing his face.
"Mm-hm." She murmured back, not turning to look at him, "No problem." Her voice was husky and soft in the comfortable silence of the room.
Ranma removed his hands from her hips and she rose as if she were some celestial body released from gravity once again. Her bare feet moved noiselessly across the floorboards and Ranma observed that she more glided than walked. "Akane-" He heard his voice call to her, stopping her abruptly in her actions.
He arose and found himself nearing the black-haired girl's slight form, her back still opposite him. "Akane-" He couldn't think of anything else to say, but it seemed like enough for her and she turned to him slowly. Her velvety brown eyes expectant.
The boy clutched her wrist gently and remained silent for a minute. "I-I just-" Not exactly sure of what he was going to reveal, he leaned in and pressed his lips softly against hers.
They were barely touching, Ranma simply holding her wrist, Akane's arms hanging limply by her sides. To anyone else it might have seemed strange to kiss somebody so deeply without any other sort of physical contact, but as Ranma pulled away, examining his fiancée's face for any reluctance or disappointment, then finding none, it was the most intimate kiss that could have ever occurred between the two.
Shocked and pleased with himself, he couldn't let go of her wrist, or move an inch, or take his eyes off her; his very heart stood still. And in an instant she opened her eyes.
"Good night, Ranma." She said, her face glowing with happiness. He smiled and freed her.
"Good night." He replied, taking a step back, watching this beautiful girl shimmering in the dancing flames of the firelight.
Akane's lips curled delicately and she slid the door open quietly, ducking into the darkness of the bedroom and leaving the pigtailed boy with his thoughts.
As he listened to her getting comfortable beneath the quilt behind the closed paper door, Ranma fell back against the wall, not sure his knees would hold him. He closed his eyes and sighed with satisfaction. "What a day-"
Author's Note: Um, I was drinking "French Vanilla" cappuccino only minutes before I started writing this, so it was still going through my system when I was typing on the keyboard. I am a "coffee person", so sometimes I get a little carried away after a few cups-hee, hee, hope you like it anyway. My friends think I'm a hopeless romantic (Which I am!!! And proud of it!!!), and drama-queen (Well-maybe, but, never mind, hee, hee, hee-) so this fic contains a large quantity of both those factors (as do all my other fics). If you would like to read any of my other stories, just click on my name and it will give you a listing of my stories!!! Please read what you like, and review if you can!!!! I appreciate ALL opinions!!!! Thank you soooooooooo much for the encouragement you guys! I saw that you liked "Lost In You.", which was a chappie story ( CS) and so I decided that though I love to write one-shots, that I'd do another CS, just for fun. Hope you like this one as much as you liked "Lost In You." (If you DID like it, that is, er, yeah-).
Lots 'a love!
Your lady!
Crystal_V_Princess ;P