There was really only one thing left to do. He set the notebook down carefully, smiling at the food smudges. He gently touched a yellowed fingerprint, feeling tears springing to his eyes. His wife's most prized possesion. She had collected recipies in this notebook since she was a little girl, and now. . . now he did have things of hers still, that much was true. He had her gowns, her jewelry, her books, a portait of her. But nothing was as much her as the little smudges of food in her cookbook.
"Your highness?" the head kitchen maid asked. Soun Tendo waved her away.
"Leave the kitchen, please. I have a personal recipe I want to make."
He heard shuffling behind him, silent and solemn. He was sure all the scullery maids would be glad of the extra rest, a party is terribly rough on servants. That wasn't, however, why he wanted the kitchen to himself.
Akane had left the party last night, unseen, unaccompanied. She was deliberately avoiding his attempts to see her settled down. He fingered the cookbook gingerly. She was all he had left of his family. How could she begrudge him the continuation of that family? The chance to feel surrounded by loved ones once more?
There was only one thing left to do: ask someone else to fix his problems. Sadly, the only person wise enough to help him was the aged, gnarled witch of the desert. Even sadder, she was guarded by giant monsters that could only be placated with a specific type of cake.
Happily, his wife had recorded the recipe for said cake.
King Soun rolled his sleeves up, frowning sternly at the list of ingredients. He would see his daughter wed, were she willing or no.
-------------------
Tatewaki Kuno was. . . perturbed. Rather perturbed, really. True love had smote him soundly, visciously, and without any trace of remorse. Not once, but twice.
Who was this mysterious Princess Ranma that followed the fair Akane around? Where had she come from? Why did she insist on dressing like a boy? And where in the name of all the GODS had that girl learned to fight!?
A flash of movement caugh the corner of his eye, disturbing his meditation. It was only to be expected. After all, this was a public garden . . okay, it was a private garden. Akane's private garden. And if that ill-mannered black-haired boy didn't show up, it was a very pleasant place to meditate.
And wait for his loves to come down for a mornign sparring session.
The girl whose movement had cought his eye was not familiar, but she took his breath away. He forgot both of his loves as he gazed upon her shining locks, her determined face, her figure revealed all to well by her simple servant's dress. A pauper? This radiant beauty, a pauper? It could not be so. He would marry her and make her the queen she deserved to be. . . .
"Ranma?" she called out, her voice as clear as her lapis lazuli eyes. Or were they emerald? Peridot? It was so hard to see from where he was. . .
"My love, she is not here," he called, rising to his feet and striding over to the fair one. She watched him impatiently, no doubt longing to be in his arms.
"What are you on?" she asked, her tone exasperated.
"The vapors of true passion! Wilt thou be my queen, and live with me forever in my. . ."
"Sorry, Prince Kuno. We've discussed this already. I turned you down, remember?" she asked. He blinked at her, then finally saw the spatula on her back.
"UKYOU KUONJI?" he cried, despairing. Which was she, maddening temptress or foolish cross-dresser? Why couldn't she make up her mind?
"Yeah, sugar, you got it. Can you tell me where Ranma is?" she asked.
"With Akane, as usual," said a dark voice from somewhere to the left. They both turned to see a boy clad all in yellow, leaning against a tree trunk. He was staring off into the underbrush, glum and unseeing. "They're still asleep. I, personally, couldn't take it any more. I'd advise you not to go up there."
"Up where?" Ukyou asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Her room, of course," he replied, his tone entirely despondent. Kuno looked from one of them to the other.
"How do you know all of this, you vile yellow-clad cretin?" he spat. The boy turned to him, glowering.
"I'll have you know I'm King of the Gold Mines," he spat back. "And as for knowing, let's just say I have a little piggy spy."
"You what?" Kuno asked. Ukyou and the stranger, however, were ignoring him.
"Wish we'd never made that promise," the stranger grinned, flashing a few fangs. Ukyou nodded, grimly.
"You think they're . . . you know. . . together?" she asked.
"What would you care?"
"It's none of your buisness, really, let's just say I have a vested interest."
"Oh, really? Since when?"
"Since NOW, jackass!"
"Well, what do you suggest? That we go up there and break some furniture, forbidding them to ever speak lest they face our wrath?" the stranger asked, color rising in his face. Ukyou stared at him in silence for a long moment.
"Maybe," she said, at long last.
"Oh, come on," he said in disgust. "Like that would work. Ranma would just kick us both out through the roof and she'd run into his arms. . ."
"His?" Kuno interupted, blinking rapidly in confusion. Both argumentative parties froze, a blush spreading across their cheeks.
"Well, ah, hers. Right, Ukyou?" the boy asked, an edge to his voice. She simply sighed and would not answer.
--------------------
Soun Tendo paused in his trek to the witch's house, looking longingly at the shade beneath a gnarled old tree. He could sit and rest for a moment, couldn't he? After all, he was no longer a spry young man, his bones needed all the rest they could get.
He sat down beneath the tree, laying the cakes he'd carefully prepared beside him. Just a nap, that was all. Just a little. . . nap. . .
-------------------
Ranma jolted awake, hitting his head agains the stone wall he had been leaning against. For a second, the blinding pain made him entirely unsure of where he was. Even, really, who he was. But then he curled up into a ball, and felt soft mounds of flesh pressing against his knees. Ah, yes. Girl Ranma.
He opened his eyes slowly, blinking as he realized he was sitting on a balcony. Scratch that. He was sitting on Akane's balcony, and she was sleeping nearby. More accurately, she was sleeping soundly and peacefully on her nice, nig feather bed while he crouched on the stone floor.
Why was he here? What in hell could have. . . oh yeah.
"Please, Ranma, he could come back at any time. He just jumped on up here with me in his arms, me and all that dress weight. Please stay with me tonight?"
"All right," he'd muttered, and leaned against the wall. She had frowned at him.
"You don't have to sleep on the floor," she started, but he'd cut her off with a glare.
"Yeah, I do. Look, unless you have . . . feelings for me like you THINK I have for you, don't offer that kind of thing. Don't make my life any harder than it already is, sister."
He'd spent the night on her balcony, protecting her. . . from himself. And, of course, thinking up ways to ensure she'd never feel the need to be protected from him again. Stretching, he rose to his feet and stumbled toward her desk. There had to be paper and ink over there, right?
He found what he was looking for and scrawled a quick note. He left it by her head. She was sleeping soundly, her face relaxed into a soft smile while her hair fell all around her, snaking across white sheets and white bedclothes alike. He could reach out and touch that face, that arm, feel the warmth of her skin stretching out smooth under his hands. . .
"This is stupid," he muttered, turning away from her and walking towards the door. He left her, closing the door behind him quietly. That was it, then, his first night as her protector. Thank goodness only that little pig Ryouga had seen him, what if someone misconstrued things? Or, even worse, realized that the pigtailed princess and pigtailed stranger were one and the. . .
"Morning, sugar," a voice said behind him. He jumped three feet in the air, whipping around. It was only that girl with her spatula, regarding him from under thick eyelashes. What the heck did SHE want?
"Morning?" Ranma offered, nervously. She smiled, and reached out for his hand. He drew it back, looking at her as if she'd grown a third head. What was she thinking? She knew he was a guy, a Prince, and yet she acted towards him the way Akane did . . . did she have something on her mind? Wedding bells rang through Ranma's mind, and only Ukyou's sudden firm grip on his shoulder kept him from bolting.
"You and I have unfinished buisness, Ranchan. Something our fathers agreed to."
Ranchan? Oh, he was in trouble. Big, big trouble.
----------------
"Trouble" is not the word one uses when one wakes up to find that one's cakes are gone, and the monsters guarding the palace of the witch are coming. "Shit!" is a word often used, as well as "Holy crap!" Soun, when he found himself in this situation, was understandably perturbed, but used somewhat different phrases.
"Help, help! For the love of God and all that is holy. . ."
"Well, now, what have we here?" sneered a high, pinched voice. Soun looked up, and saw a wrinkled old man in a maroon gi, smoking a pipe. "Stranded royalty, is it? What are you willing to pay me to get out of this predicament?"
"Anything, anything!" Soun begged, tears coming to his eyes. The old man's eyes glinted.
"How about the hand of your most beautiful daughter in marriage?" he suggested. Soun nodded his head rapidly.
"Oh, sweeto!" the old man cried, doing a victory jig. He jumped down, pulled open a hidden door in the tree, and yanked Soun inside just as the giant cat and giant duck were upon them.
"You may be assured I'll take good care of her," the old man grinned, rubbing his hands together greedily. Soun looked around the place in dismay. There were bras and underpants everywhere he looked, dirty magazines and aerobic tapes in every corner.
"Is this. . . your house?" he asked, feeling a bit faint. The old man nodded proudly.
"Of course! And she'll live in the lap of luxary here, wearing the best lingerie and posing in front of the best cameras. . ."
Soun, quite understandably, fainted.
--------------
"Don't forget our bargain," a high, pinched voice whispered. Soun jolted awake, sitting up. He was in his bed. He was in his pajamas. It was all a dream.
Thank heavens.
He looked down at his hand, and was shocked to find a lacy white bra clutched in it. Not a dream? Had he actually promised Akane to that. . . that. . . demon?
--------------
"I'm going to go find your Prince Charming and beat some sense into him. Back for lunch, Ranma," Akane read aloud, scratching her head. She pulled her covers off, sliding out of bed. If that was the way Ranma wanted to do it, that was fine with her but. . . what if the stranger hurt her friend?
She stood, stretched, and walked over to her dresser. She splashed her face with some of the water in the basin and began combing her hair. This was the part fo the day she hated. The part of the day where she ahd to go get prettied up. Comb her hair. Wash her face. Put on a corset. . .
Screw the corset. Today, she'd just lounge around in boy's clothes. She wasn't in the mood for metal barbs piercing her kidneys, thank you very much.
She braided her hair back, just to get it out of the way, and slipped into some long, baggy pants and a light blue jerkin. With some leather vanguards, she looked almost like a boy, Almost. Feminine face and breasts aside, she looked like a boy.
She slipped out of her room, hoping to avoid any of the princes today. She really wasn't in a mood for fighting. Maybe she'd go visit her father. .
"You know, you really do look like a guy in that get-up," said a voice behind her. She whirled around, and there he was. Her heart froze in her chest.
"What did you do to Ranma?" she asked, clenching her fists and glaring at him. He blinked at her, then shrugged.
"I didn't do nothing to her. She thinks she beat me, I barely touched her. Actually, she thinks I'm laying unconscious in the forest outside your castle. Wouldn't leave me alone until she thought I was out of it. She's a tough little thing," he said, not moving toward her. He just stood there, hands in the pockets of the suit he wore last night, staring at her. Wasn't he going to glomp her, like all the other idiots?
"If you hurt her, I will make your life hell," Akane promised. Surprisingly, a grin broke out on his face when she said that.
"Don't worry, I like the little redhead. I wouldn't hurt her. What worries me, actually, is what she said about you."
"About. . . me?"
"Yeah. She said you were terrified of me. Terrified that I might force you into marriage. That I might force you into. . . other stuff, too," he added. Akane blinked at him. Did he actually seem. . . sad? "I just want you to know that I wouldn't, that I. . . I couldn't, really. Just because someone is stronger than you it doesn't mean they're going to hurt you."
"It does if they're male," Akane retorted. The comment had a little less sting than usual.
"Not always. Not all of us. Not me. I have no interest in forcing myself on anyone. In fact, I never want to get married at all. I've never wanted anything from any girl, except you," he said. Akane glowered at him, dropping into a fighting stance. So that was it, then? She had to admit, he had her going for a minute. She'd actually almost trusted him, just for a second there.
"And all I want from you is a few kind words. You know, just, like, friendship? Maybe the occasional laugh?" he offered. She blinked at him. He wanted what?
For most girls, Prince Ranma Saotome just turned on the charm. For most girls, he just told them what they wanted to hear until he'd gotten what he wanted, and then told them he had no intention fo marriage, trysting, or anything of the sort. But Akane . . Akane he'd been around enough to know that she wanted what he wanted. And all he wanted, really, truly, was a friend.
And if she thought of his as a friend, then his girl half would never again need to sleep on a cold stone balcony.
"What do you think?" he asked, trying to radiate sincerity.
"I think you've worked out a really nice speech, but you need to go before I kick your ass," Akane growled. The stranger blinked at her. "You really had me going for a second there, you know that? I really thought maybe you wanted my friendship, not my reputation, not my crown, not my money, not to win the great grand contest of our age. But you're just like all the others. And you only want one thing. So get out of here before I rip your intestines out."
"Where do you get off?" Ranma yelled, shocked at her outburst. He'd offered her exactly what he thought she wanted, he'd offered her something different and all she could see was every other man she'd ever pummeled into the ground. "What the hell makes you think you're so desirable? I got news for you, lady, if I'd come here with the intention of courting you I would have gone home in disgust. You're more like a man than a woman, more like a servant than a princess, more like a TOAD than a pretty girl! Why anyone would EVER want you is completely beyond me! So you know what? You just sit here and be bitter and alone and ugly and NEVER be happy, because that's what you want!"
With that, he turned on his heel and left. Akane felt tears welling up in her eyes as she watched his retreat. No one had ever spoken to her like that, how DARE he. . but what if he was right? What if all she was doing was making herself lonely?