Disclaimer: I don't own these characters. Except the babies, that is.
"I hate boys, I hate boys, I hate boys," Akane snarled, eyeing the greenish-yellow muck she was expected to clean up. Her son, Makoto, simply gurgled happily at her. All very well and good for him, he didn't have to change icky diapers. He just had to make them. She glowered at the offending region of his body, wondering how it was possible that so much waste could come from such an incredibly small person.
The twins were almost three months old, now. The initial wonder of their tiny, seemingly perfect bodies wore off after a few 2 AM feedings and plenty of icky, stinking diapers. They weren't even entertaining. All they ever did was eat, sleep, and poop. That was it. And gurgle occasionally.
Mocchio, the other twin, yowled from his position in the cradle beside her. Happosai's bedroom had been converted into a nursery, with all the trappings. Even the smell. The room always smelt of dirty diapers and sour milk.
"I hear you, I hear you," Akane cooed, entirely unconscious of the soothing tone her voice had taken.
She cleaned Makoto up and deposited him in the crib with his brother. They flailed their little arms in the general direction of each other, and Akane knew they were aware of each other's presence. She couldn't help but smile.
"Shampoo help?" a voice behind her asked. Akane turned to look at the Amazon. Since the twins' early arrival, the purple-haired girl was seldom far from their sides. She was oddly tender with them, and they loved her at least as much as they loved their Grandfather Panda. Akane found the uncharacteristic kindness and softness touching, and had insisted there be no talk of Shampoo leaving their house.
"Sure, if you want," she answered. She had a sneaking suspicion that Shampoo had deliberately waited until all smell of diaper had left the room before entering. Not that she'd blame her.
Shampoo crossed immediately over to the crib and picked Mocchio up gently. The little blue-eyed boy gurgled at her and waved his arms emphatically. Akane watched with an odd lump in her chest. It felt oddly like jealousy, and she clamped that emotion down. She'd spent too much time being jealous of Shampoo for Ranma's sake, she certainly wasn't going to be jealous over the whimsical affections of her sons.
She picked up Makoto, so he wouldn't feel deserted. For only a moment, he nestled against her, a warm pulsating lump of life. After that moment, however, he twisted and flailed. She sat down on the floor, Indian-style, and sat him down in front of her. He couldn't sit up on his own yet, but he could almost do it if she were watching to make sure he didn't fall.
"I miss them, later," Shampoo said sadly, dropping gracefully to the floor beside Akane. The young mother frowned at her. Shampoo was staring wistfully at Mocchio, cradling him against her chest.
"What do you mean?" she asked. Shampoo took a deep breath.
"I know Kasumi have letter from Mousse," she said softly. Akane blushed and looked away. Since he plainly had no idea Shampoo was with them, they'd tried to keep his letters from her. "He still with his mother. I go find him."
"But Shampoo . . ." Akane began, but stopped when she saw he tears on the other girl's face.
"I have to. Never know if not go, right?" Shampoo asked, smiling a little. "Cannot watch you happiness always. Must fine own happiness." She looked up at Akane, blinking back her tears. "But I miss them."
"Shampoo. . ." Akane said softly. She remembered Mousse's utter devotion to Shampoo, and nodded slowly. If Shampoo was finally willing to find out, they ought to explore what it would be to be together and happy. If he was still willing. But still. . . she was going to miss the flamboyant Amazon, complete with wall-wreaking and irritating lack of proper grammar.
"Hey, when you have your own children, whenever that is, I'll bring the twins and they can be friends," she offered, smiling as brightly as she could. It was all she could think to offer. Shampoo nodded slowly, smiling back.
"Sound good."
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The night was warm, too warm, too sweaty and hot. Ryouga downed another glass of cold sake, strictly to cool himself off. Or so he assured himself, because such assurances are needed when it's your eighth cup of sake and a rather pretty girl who is in love with you is leaning heavily on your shoulder.
"Ryouga, I'm drunk," Akari announced solemnly. He traced a finger up her neck and behind her ear, making her shiver against him. Certain parts of his anatomy, strongly encouraged by the sake, reacted instantaneously. Akari blushed but didn't move away.
Ryouga looked down at her, vaguely puzzled. It was only Akari. Sure, she was really nice, and he really liked her. But she was obviously in love with him, she felt obligated to marry him, blah blah blah. . . in his somber moments, it made him rather uncomfortable. In his somber moments, he was well aware of the nagging feeling that he'd cut himself off forever from Akane. However, he was not in one of his somber moments, and Akane was rather far from his thoughts. If he had thoughts at present.
He felt like he was a thousand miles away from wherever his body was residing. But Akari was there to pull him back to himself, warm and reassuringly real. Solid. Her arms came up around his neck, and he was rather acutely aware of her nipples pressing into his chest. She kissed him then, pulling him down to her. She tasted of sake, and sashimi. He was only half-aware of his hands in her hair, roving through that unconquerable mass. Her lips opened to him, and his tongue plunged inside her. Exhilarating, exhilarating and reassuringly solid.
He pulled away from her, but her arms around his neck kept him closer than he wanted to be. There was some reason he shouldn't do this. Some reason. Something about honor and love. He couldn't remember, and he stopped trying abruptly when Akari bit his collarbone.
Rather unexpectedly, he found himself half-naked in her room, kissing her passionately—while she was a bit more than half-naked. He had to stop this. Before something happened that was irreversible.
Then she looked up at him with those beautiful eyes, pouting, kiss-swollen lips whispering something he couldn't make out. He traced a finger down the line of her jaw, and smiled. He might love her. He wasn't sure, but he might. And she obviously loved him. She was right in front of him, warm and startlingly beautiful, and actually fond of the fact that he was literally a pig. A cursed man cannot ask for more than that.
He kissed her again, more gently. The rest of their clothes slid to the floor as they felt their way around each other, exploring with hands and mouths. He was almost strong enough to stop. Almost. Almost strong enough to hold her at arms length, put his pants back on, and insist that they sleep off the sake. Almost. But she was riding the sensation too, and he was nowhere near strong enough in the end.
They were laying on her bed, completely naked now, and Ryouga was almost at the point where he couldn't stop himself. He was about to get up. Really. Just how had he managed to get into this situation anyway? A nervous laugh erupted from his mouth, and a thousand doubts rushed through his mind. But she drew him closer, breathing in his ear as her hard little nipples rubbed across his chest.
"Ryouga, take me. Please, Ryouga. Ryouga!" she whispered, and the rest of her words were lost as all blood receded from his brain to attend to more immediate matters. He was nowhere near strong enough to resist that.
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Akane felt Ranma slid into bed beside her. She turned to him, and her hand brushed his hair. It was still damp, with little drops of cold water.
"Where have you been?" she asked softly. She didn't want to admit it to him, but she'd spent most of the night desperately worried about him. He snorted and pulled her closer.
"Hmm. Pajama pants? You do like to make my life difficult. I suppose I'll have to go out and get you some skimpy nightgowns," he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. She slapped his hand away from the buttons on her top and glared at him even though he couldn't see her eyes.
"Where were you?" she asked again. He sighed.
"All over the rooftops of Nerima, actually. Kuno decided tonight would be a good night to chase after me and try to get information about the pigtailed girl," Ranma sighed again. "The imbecile doesn't even listen to the answers. I finally told him she was dead, just to get him to go away, and he knocked me into the canal."
"Oooh, good thing Cologne reversed your curse," Akane said softly. Ranma snorted.
"Yeah, lucky me. Were ya worried?" he asked. Akane was about to retort with something biting and flippant, but stopped herself in time.
"Yeah, yeah I was."
"Silly. I'm near invincible," he announced. Akane laughed and rolled over on top of him.
"Really? I can make you nearly helpless without trying hard at all," she informed him. His hands slid under her skirt and he drew them slowly up her sides.
"I don't believe you," he answered.
"Was that a challenge?" she asked. She slowly, dramatically unbuttoned her shirt and threw it to the floor. Ranma, who'd seen her do that before, wasn't overly impressed. He slid his hands over her bare back and took a deep breath.
"Yep," was all he had time for before she closed her mouth over his. His lips were soft but cold, still a bit damp from the canal water or perhaps the cold bath he'd taken afterwards. She ran her hands over his shoulders and chest, pleasantly surprised to find them bare. So he had taken a bath. Which meant he was only wearing his shorts.
She scooted back along his legs, and he let her go without a word. She teased her mouth along his body, quick little nips of her teeth and long, light strokes of her tongue until she got to the waistband of his shorts.
She sat up and pulled them off him, during which process he wiggled in what he hoped was a helpful manner. Raking her nails up and down his thighs, Akane leaned over him. A soft moan escaped his lips.
Easing off of him, she slid her own pants off and made her way, using her lips, tongue and teeth liberally on his skin as she went, back up to his mouth. He grabbed her, and rolled over with her, kissing her fiercely.
"You're going to lose this challenge," he said hoarsely. She ran her fingertips down his spine, and was rewarded with a shiver of pleasure.
"How do you figure?" she asked, a bit husky herself. He bent to bite her hard between the breasts before answering.
"If I'm helpless when we do this, so are you," he answered. She gasped as their bodies joined. In the end, he was right, they were both helpless. They fell asleep a peaceful tangle of limbs, cradled into each other.
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Ryouga woke up to the rather pleasant sensation of a warm body lain across his. He opened his eyes and sat up, firmly ignoring the little man hammering away at his temples. Confusion washed over him as he saw Akari lain across him, still sleeping soundly. The first lights of. . . midday, it looked like, were slanting through the window onto her hair, and she looked beautiful.
And naked. Rather naked, in fact. All his blood rushed to his face, and he scampered out from underneath her prone form, the first rushing of panic stirring within his as firmly as the blood pulsed in his temples. His mouth felt dry, a nosebleed dripping down his open lips. That wasn't the only blood, either. Some of it was drying and flaking lower down, and he wasn't comfortable with that at all.
Just what the hell had happened? It looked like. . .
"No, idiot, you wouldn't do that. You don't have the nerve," Ryouga told himself firmly-- and futilely. Akari stirred at his words, frowning in her sleep as she stretched.
"Ryouga," she whispered, and his heart stopped. Wanting an immeadiate escape route, he poked a hole in the wall--almost without thinking-- and crab-walked out as fast as he could go. He was three miles away, still crab-walking, when he finally realized he was out in the open without so much as a sock to cover him.
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Ranma woke up to the sound of crying. He gingerly extracted himself from the arms of Akane, pulled on his shorts, and headed to the nursery.
Both twins were awake, and crying. Almost mechanically, he changed them both. That was enough for Makoto, who fell asleep as soon as he was placed back in his crib. Mocchio, however, had other ideas. He continued to whimper despite Ranma's best efforts. He wouldn't take his bottle, wouldn't be distracted by toys, and wouldn't be quiet at all unless Ranma were holding him a certain way. Ranma sank into a beanbag chair in the corner, cradling his son against his chest. Mocchio's head tucked right under his chin, and the tiny infant curled his legs up instinctively. Ranma smiled, stroking Mocchio's back.
"One day, you and your brother will be the strongest men in the world," he whispered. "You'll know every technique I can teach you, and you'll know how to be men of honor. How to keep you word."
Mocchio placed one tiny, chubby hand on Ranma's neck. It was a small gesture, and likely an unconscious one, but it made Ranma's chest tighten. Did he really have the strength to do it? To be cruel to these tiny, perfect little creatures as one must be to train a disciple? He didn't think he could do it.
"Maybe you can be musicians or something," he whispered. Mocchio didn't answer, but then, Ranma hadn't expected him to. He felt odd and clumsy around his tiny sons. He sat in the dark nursery, with Mocchio warm and soft against his chest, and felt a warm swell of protective pride.
Did that mean he had to make them weak?
"Doesn't matter yet," Ranma whispered. He brought his knees up, so practically his entire body was curled around the sleeping infant. "Maybe I'll be less sappy in a few years, when it does."
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"It was stupid, it was dishonorable, it was disgusting," Ryouga muttered to himself, once more lost in a miasma of self-doubt and angst. He was dressed again, but humilated. He could never face Akari again, never. It would be better for him if he just wandered off the edge of the planet.
"What kind of a man loses control like that?" he asked himself angrily, punching a nearby tree. The tree promptly fell down, and he continued on his way.
"Why am I even here?" he muttered, putting a hand against the stump of the tree he'd just killed. "I should never have come. What kind of a man . . ."
He was going to say, 'comes to one woman to forget another?,' but thankfully he didn't. A twig snapped behind him, and he froze.
"Ryouga?" a soft voice asked. He grimaced. the one person. . . okay, one of the several people he never wanted to see again. He couldn't look at her.
"How. . . how did you find me?" he asked, because that seemed better than simply running. He wanted to run. Most of his life had been spent doing just that. The only thing restraining him was the repetitive nagging though, 'what sort of man does that to a woman and then leaves her?'
"You're in the small patch of woods behind my house," she informed him. He sank to the ground in defeat. He'd thought he was so much farther away.
"You ought to come inside and eat," she said, her tone as close to ordering as it ever came. His eyes widened in shock, and he slowly turned to face her. She was watching him solemnly, an odd expression for her. That quailed him a bit, but the question was already bursting from his mouth as uncontrollably as the blood flooding his face and ears.
"You don't hate me?"
"No, Ryouga," she sighed. "I don't hate you. I'm not thrilled about your attempts to run away from me," He winced at that. "but I don't hate you."
If she didn't hate him, maybe. . . there were so many things he had to ask her, so many things he had to say. The first of them was, "Do you still want me?" He wasn't ready to ask them yet, though. The words kept dying on his tongue, he couldn't force them out. What did come out was a series of incoherent stammerings and a steadily deepening blush. Eventually he got his mouth to work properly.
"I'd . . l-love to come to dinnnnner," he said, with an attempt at a smile. Inwardly, he was cursing himself. This was going to be hard enough without the betrayels of his nervous system.
If you want to read about them, Ryouga's daughter, and a few other little demons when they're partially grown up, I do have a fic for that. New Nuisances. Shamless plug there, sorry.Another shamless plug: my kid brother is posting absolutely atrocious stories as king seth on this site. Maybe he only has one absolutely atrocious story. Anyway, I think it's a Sailor Moon fic, and I think he'd appreciate flames at this point. Just letting you know.