Ranma & company belong to the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi, but the poor fare
below is mine. First fanfic and lime warnings apply. C&C welcome. Thanks to Ana
Wagner (who knows so much more about Ranma ½ than I do) for some very helpful
comments. Here goes ...
Words in [ ] are thoughts
REKINDLING A FLAME
by: Skywatch
"Shi shi hokoudan!"
"What the - aaaahhh!" Ryouga only had one brief moment of
confusion before he was sent flying by the force of the chi blast. It
hit him squarely. Since no one else wielded the depression blast, he'd never devised a proper defense against it.
Akane whirled around to stare at her husband, too stunned to do
anything about Ryouga.
Ranma was breathing hard, his hands still held up, but the
faintest of self-satisfied grins hovered around his lips. After all
this time, he had finally mastered the shi shi hokoudan. "That'll teach
ya." [Putting your hands on her like that.] He didn't realize he'd said
it aloud until his wife glared at him.
"Putting his hands - Ranma no baka! Ryouga and I were just
sparring! I fell for one of his feints and he was helping me up." It
was absolutely true. It had been months since anybody had given Akane a
decent workout, and it had been such a relief, immersing herself
completely in the Art for a change.
"Oh yeah? Guess that means ya were losing, as usual," he shot
back. Akane's naiveté infuriated him. He'd been attracted by the
sounds coming from the dojo and had made his way there, swinging hard on
his crutches. He arrived just in time to see Ryouga kneeling over a
prone Akane, one hand on her arm and another on her shoulder. To Ranma,
it had looked like his rival had been about ready to join her on the
floor.
Akane picked up a towel and wiped her face. "I suppose you
could do better."
"Not anymore, obviously," Ranma muttered.
The young woman abruptly dropped the towel. "Stop that!" she
demanded, walking towards him. "That's all I ever hear from you!"
"Well excuse me for being a cripple - wha?! What're ya doing?!"
Ranma yelped as she grabbed him roughly by his arms. His crutches
clattered to the floor.
Akane's mouth twisted in a malicious parody of a grin. "Since
you knocked the only decent sparring partner I've had in months out of
the room, you can replace him."
"What the hell are you talking about? You know I can't!" he
protested.
He'd almost forgotten how strong she was, because she had been
so gentle around him since the accident. Now she was forcefully
reminding him, effortlessly lifting and propelling his body until his
back was pressed against a wall. "All I know is that poor Ryouga's
unconscious or lost or both, and you did it, Ranma. So don't tell me
what you can't do."
Akane mentally crossed her fingers, hoping Ryouga was okay, and
that this would work. [A little more than five months to go.] Ranma
could take some steps, after a fashion, and there were times when he
could stay upright on his feet, though mostly on crutches and never for
long. "You have two choices, Saotome. You can dodge, or you can stand
there and pretend to be one of my practice dummies. They generally
don't last long, though."
"You've gotta be kidding - Hey!" Ranma jerked his head
instinctively, barely in time to avoid a fist that smashed next to his
cheek. He felt himself tottering and placed his hands on either side of
his body, palms braced flat against the rough wood of the dojo wall for
support. Using the additional leverage, he propelled himself a scant
inch away from the next blow.
Akane kept the attack up. She didn't give him any time to
realize how careful she was being, how her punches were directed
precisely toward those areas which he could avoid. The ones that she or
he misjudged were pulled, enough to make a palpable hit against his body
and no more.
It was working well, until Ranma pulled a surprise move,
bringing up one of his arms to actually block and sweep her blow aside.
His arms had regained a portion of their former strength, if not all of
their coordination. He'd realized, after awhile, that Akane hadn't
taken that into account and decided instantly to take advantage of her
oversight. It was successful, in that it prevented her punch from
connecting.
Unfortunately, his motion and the reverberation of Akane's blow
on his forearm upset his precarious balance. Suddenly he was pitching
forward.
"Ranma!" With very little time to do much else, Akane moved
towards him, wrapped one of her arms firmly around his waist and
propelled their fall so that he would land on top of her instead of on
the hard unyielding floor of the dojo.
They both "oomphed" as they hit the wooden surface. The back of
Akane's head thudded solidly against the floor, but not hard enough to
damage anything. It hurt, though.
"See? I told ya this was a stupid idea," Ranma grunted. "You
okay?" His left hand reached up briefly to touch her hair.
She nodded, breathing hard from the last-minute save. "Smarts a
little, that's all."
Ranma shook his head, but for the first time in ages he gave her
a lopsided smile. He rolled his eyes theatrically. "You were supposed
to catch me, tomboy, not fall with me."
"Right." Akane closed her eyes briefly as the back of her head
throbbed. "I'll remember that next time." [I'm going to have a huge
lump on that spot tomorrow.]
A second passed as they caught their breath.
Suddenly Akane's eyes flew open, her expression startled.
"R-Ranma?" She watched him uncertainly, not sure of what she thought
she'd felt - and definitely not sure of what it meant.
He was looking at her with such wonder and intensity that
it took her breath away. His face was turning red, and it wasn't
because of the fall. "Akane, I ... kimi ...," he whispered. "I can
feel you."
"What?" Then she realized what he meant, and matched him, blush
for blush.
"I can feel ... all of you." One of Ranma's hands wrapped
around her left hip, pulling her closer, more firmly against him until
there was no way she could doubt his response to her. "I never thought
I would again." [The length of your body against mine - not like that
other time.] He determinedly pushed that unwelcome memory from his
mind, instead sliding his legs between hers, pressing against her,
concentrating on his wife and the way her smooth skin yielded against
the play of his searching fingers.
It was like catching fire. After half a year, and one night's
botched attempt, Akane had almost forgotten what Ranma's touch was like.
A soft moan slipped from her as her husband's other hand began to move
feverishly over her body, slipping into the folds of her gi and under
her shirt, parting the one and lifting the other, baring her skin to him
and to the cool air.
She raised her head and met him in a long impassioned kiss, her
hands scrambling deftly for the ties of his Chinese shirt. "Ranma." She
breathed his name against his cheek, the brown column of his neck, the
juncture between neck and shoulder, the hollow of his throat. "I've
missed you."
"Akane ... I have no control," Ranma confessed raggedly. He
found and tugged at the drawstring of her gi pants, cursing inwardly at
the lack of coordination that made his fingers, still not completely
recovered, fumble at the knot.
Then her hand was there, meeting his briefly, halting his
awkward attempts to unravel the ties. It had been so long, and they
were both as eager and unsure as teenagers, and almost as shy. For the
shortest of moments they were both still, looking into each other's
eyes, and for once there was no guile nor bitterness nor issues of
defeat and triumph in either gaze, only a longing to be together as they
had before.
[Anything Goes.] Akane felt the blood rush to her face at the
audacity, the impulse that was about to overtake her. She turned her
head shyly away. "Tear it off."
And that was all the urging that was needed.
============
For the first time in seven months, Akane woke up to the
wonderful sensation of being in her husband's arms. Her body protested
slightly as she stirred. [Okay, falling asleep on the floor was not a
good idea.] Uh-oh, if she felt like that, what about - ? She turned
quickly to Ranma.
He was awake, had been awake for some time, apparently. He was
watching her, but his expression was closed, guarded.
Whatever endearment she was about to greet him with died on her
lips. Akane searched his features frantically for some trace of the
tenderness that she had seen an hour ago, or at least some sign that he
had given up on this mad idea to kill himself. There was nothing.
What she couldn't guess was that Ranma, waking first, had spent
the last thirty minutes berating himself. He had dreamed of this for
months, and what had he done when he actually had the chance?! He'd
lost control, lost himself completely in the sensations and tackled
Akane right here on the floor! Instead of being gentle and loving, he'd
been rough and awkward - too many parts of his damned body still weren't
working right! She couldn't have enjoyed it. [Maybe if I try again,
exercise some control this time - ]
Akane had no way of knowing that the impatience and frustration
in Ranma's eyes were directed at himself and not at her. [So this is
how it's going to be. Though ... apparently he still wants me.] She
closed her eyes, feeling the tears gather as his hands roamed
demandingly over her again and his lips pressed roughly against the side
of her neck.
The loving between her and Ranma had always been just that,
loving. Even when they got carried away, there was always something -
a tender look, a whisper, a rueful laugh or a gentle touch - that
signified that this was more than a simple physical act, it was an
affirmation of the feelings they had for each other. This time there
was nothing. [But I'm not going to stop him, not if this is what it
takes to make him want to live again. My fault. I owe him this much.]
It took Ranma a minute to figure out that something was wrong.
Akane's arms were wrapped around him, but otherwise she wasn't
responding. When his kisses reached her cheek, and her tears, he froze.
He scrambled away from her.
"Ranma, what - ?" Her face mirrored her confusion.
The desperate hope that had carried the pigtailed youth through
the last half-hour withered. When it came down to it, he was just as
good at jumping to conclusions as she was, and in his eyes her tears
said it all. She was doing this out of duty or compassion. That was
all he was to Akane now, a weakling [a cripple!], an object of pity. He
couldn't stand it. "Sorry," he muttered stiffly, keeping his gaze
determinedly away from her. "This was a ... mistake."
If he had been watching her then, he would've seen her recoil.
If he had slapped her, it might've hurt less. Something in Akane
twisted, but when she spoke again her voice was cool and controlled. "I
see." She knotted the broken ends of her gi ties, re-arranged her clothes,
stood up and handed Ranma his crutches. "Don't think this excuses you from sparring with me."
The youth paused, his hands wrapping around the wooden
implements. "Akane, I -"
"Just get out, Ranma." Then she remembered. "I have to go and
make sure Ryouga's alright." [And cry. Because now I know I've lost
you for sure.]
===========
Akane stacked the groceries on the table. She had come into the
kitchen through the back door. She'd heard the laughter almost as soon
as she had stepped into the front yard. She didn't want to interrupt
that.
She couldn't stand it, either. The ease with which Ranma and
Ukyou slipped into conversation was hard to watch. She couldn't help contrasting it with the way Ranma avoided her. He didn't even discuss his therapy anymore. He left it up to her completely, although she had to admit that he threw himself into the sessions with a determination that surprised the therapists. She once exchanged an amused glance with Dr. Tofu. This was the Ranma they knew.
She remembered the first time Ranma had walked on his own. It had only been a few feet, but this time there had been no metal rails to hang onto,
only Dr. Tofu on one side to catch him in case he fell, and her at the end.
"A reward at the end never hurts, neh?" Tofu had winked. She
wondered if he had noticed the wryness in her answering smile. If he
really wanted to give Ranma a goal, he should've arranged things so that
her husband was walking away from her.
But they had done it. Ranma tottered a couple of times, but in
the end he had made it and she had caught him in her arms. Instinctively, she hugged him tightly, burying her face in the breadth of his chest. [This is worth it. This is worth everything!]
She didn't see the matching expression of happiness that was
instantly on his face. It was so bright that it made Dr. Tofu turn away
to give them a little privacy.
All Akane heard was his embarrassed voice. "Aww, it's just a
few steps. Even kids walk better than me."
Her smile faltered. She remembered every word of their compact.
It wasn't enough that Ranma could walk; he had to be "back to his old
self." She drew away from him, but she couldn't get mad at him today,
even if he was being a stubborn baka. "It's still an accomplishment."
"I guess." Ranma shrugged, but he was grinning when Akane
assisted him back into a chair.
After that things had gone back to normal, "normal" being both
of them trying to stay out of each other's way.
" ... I dunno, Ucchan. Things between Akane and me aren't going
well right now."
Akane halted in the middle of putting the groceries away.
"It can't be that bad."
Ranma harrumphed. "Well, it sure can't be much worse! She's on
my case all the time." A pause. "I wish sometimes that she had more
patience, y'know, like you."
"Ranchan ..."
That HURT. Akane's hands clenched into fists. [No way! I know
it's inevitable but NOT YET!] Quietly she made her way to the back
door, opened it and banged it shut as loudly as she could. "Tadaima!"
she sang out.
She could imagine the two scrambling apart. A second later,
Ukyou came into the kitchen, her greeting a tad too cheerful. "Ohayou,
Akane! Need help?"
"No thanks, I can manage." Akane resumed unpacking the
groceries. An idea was forming in her mind. She wondered if she had
the courage to implement it. "Ukyou ... I need a favor."
"That's what I'm here for. Ask away."
"Will you -" she gulped " - take Ranma to the hospital
tomorrow?"
The okinomiyaki chef's stunned expression almost made her laugh.
"Akane!" Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Are you sure?"
"He needs encouragement now. I've pushed him this far, but ..."
she trailed off. "Anyway, he's [happier] more comfortable with you."
[Whatever's necessary. Remember the dream.] She noticed movement out
of the corner of her eye. "Isn't that right, Ranma? You don't mind
Ukyou taking over for awhile, do you?"
"'Course not." Ranma was standing in the doorway with his arms
crossed in front of his chest, trying hard to appear nonchalant. [I knew
it. She's tired of me and this situation.] He wondered if he should
do the noble thing, but the greater part of him still wouldn't,
couldn't let her go. [Not yet.] "This way you can wrap up the
afternoon classes and rest for our daily sparring sessions."
Akane was so busy sneaking glances at her husband that at first
she completely missed the import of his words. The sight of Ranma,
leaning casually against the doorframe and looking so much like his old
self was doing funny things to her insides. [I can almost pretend that
nothing's wrong.] Then it sank in. "Nani?! Sparring sessions?"
"I can stand, sorta walk, move my arms. Should be enough for
basic stuff, though I won't be no Ryouga." Ranma hoped she didn't
notice the way he bit off his former rival's name. Ukyou gave him a
funny glance, though.
"Ranma, you're going to be tired from the therapy."
"So we'll shorten the sessions and make it every other day or
something." He held up his hand to cut off her protest. "I need to get
my wind back, Akane. I've got the basics but it's the control that's
missing, and I think the Art can give me that. Besides, it was your
idea."
[It does sound plausible, and more importantly, Ranma's
interested in martial arts again!] Akane nodded. "I'll talk to Dr.
Tofu."
===========
[I've missed this.] For the first time since the accident,Saotome Ranma was content. There had been no barbed remarks today. The
argument was settled, the decision made. He peeked at Akane
surreptitiously as she performed the same kata alongside him. They were
matching moves without even looking at each other. They were completely
in sync.
[She chose well.] The kata was one of the simpler ones,
something they had both been doing since they were children, but still a
cut above beginner's level. It was "soft" and flowing, not involving
any of the sudden strikes and kicks a hard kempo series required. It
was the closest thing to meditation the Anything Goes School of Martial
Arts had. [For the Saotome-ryu, anyway.]
When they finished, the youth sank, with Akane's help, into an
awkward seiza. He stared fixedly at the floor in front of him.
"Are you sure about this?" Akane's tone was faintly pleading.
"You could give it more time."
"Hey, we agreed. One month of daily sparring's more than enough
to find out what I can do." He relented a little in the face of his
wife's obvious concern. "Aw, don't worry 'bout it so much. I got the
use of my hands and arms back way before my legs, remember? I wouldn't
be doing this if I didn't think I was ready." [Liar.] The truth was
that this frightened him. [Just a little.] "I haveta try sometime."
Reluctantly, the other martial artist nodded. She carefully
arranged the necessary items in front of him.
Then she took a thin white towel and draped it over the topmost
concrete brick. "No need to hurt yourself unnecessarily," she said as
her husband frowned. She stepped back.
Ranma levered himself up and considered the task at hand. The
two piles of bricks supporting the block he was attempting to break was
at about upper thigh level. He had originally wanted to try Akane's
usual set-up, close to the ground, but Akane had balked, arguing that
Ranma would find the half-kneeling position she usually favored an additional
strain.
Unspoken between them was the common knowledge that this set-up
would give him more leverage and that the downward strike would allow him to harness more than just the strength of his arm. In short, the whole thing was a teensy bit easier.
Ranma stood, slightly hunched over the offending block of concrete. A year ago he would've pulverized it without a second thought. Now ... well, they would see. He pressed the knuckles of his right fist flat against the cloth-covered brick, planning the execution of the blow. He bent his elbow and pulled his fist back and upwards against his body, then brought it down on the same spot. He repeated the motion three times, pivoting a bit so that he could bring the rest of his torso into play.
He breathed deeply, gathering strength and chi. Then, with a
defiant kiai and without the least bit of hesitation, the pigtailed
youth executed a downward punch that brought callused flesh against
rough concrete.
The brick crumbled in the middle and fell in pieces to the
floor.
When he was sixteen, Ranma was smashing man-sized boulders.
For some reason, he felt the same elation now. He looked at Akane
with a strange feeling of triumph shining in his blue eyes.
She smiled back, and suddenly her whole face was alight. "You
did it," she said simply.
"Yeah," Ranma returned as simply, because he couldn't get
anymore words out. A part of him was embarrassed, thinking that he
should get a grip because it was actually no big deal, but another side
was telling him differently. It was saying: Look at Akane, she
thinks it's an accomplishment, too. So maybe it is, maybe you have done
something extraordinary today. Enjoy it.
And share it with her, since that's what you want to do so
badly. "Akane, I -" Ranma hesitated. He'd gotten a little better with
words over the years, but he was still pretty awkward eight times out of
ten. "This hasn't been easy for either of us, has it? I'm sorry."
"Oh Ranma, don't apologize." Akane's heart surged wildly with
hope. [Is this my chance? If I ask him to release me from the oath,
will he?] She steeled herself. She had to try. "There is something -"
"ITTAI KOKO WA DOKO DA?!" Hibiki Ryouga stood in the
doorway of the dojo, leaning hard on a stick. His clothes were torn
and muddy. All in all, his appearance suggested that he had run all
the way from Osaka.
Which was where Akane felt like sending him right then! She
hadn't felt more like malleting Ryouga into the sky since the day she
had found out about P-chan. She reigned in her irritation and
forcefully reminded herself that, awful timing or not, this was a friend
who was helping her. "Ohayou, Ryouga," she greeted resignedly. "You're
-"
"Not wanted." Ranma glowered.
The words surprised the others. Then Ryouga remembered his
role. Glancing at Akane, he asked in as snide a tone as he could
manage, "Is that any way to treat a friend, Saotome?"
The pigtailed martial artist intercepted the look and
immediately misinterpreted it. "You're no friend of mine, Hibiki," he
replied coldly. "Leave us alone."
[He's mad! Ryouga hasn't done anything. Why is he so angry?]
Not liking this development at all, Akane tried to calm things down.
"Ranma, it's okay, we can talk later."
It didn't work. Ukyou was right - Ranma did have a jealous
streak when it came to Akane - the same streak Akane possessed when it came to her husband. The circumstances, combined with the fact that the okinomiyaki chef had harped on Ryouga's supposed re-discovered passion for Akane every time she could, had pushed this streak to new heights.
"Don'tcha see what this guy is doing, Akane?" Ranma demanded.
"He's pretending to be your friend, just like he used to pretend to be
your pet!" He rounded angrily on the yellow-and-black clad youth.
"Have ya told her yet? What ya said to me months ago? No? Then I will
since I don't have a goddamned oath to hold me back this time! P-chan
thinks that you need a real man in your life, Akane, someone who can -
how'dya put it, pigboy? - actually walk. And that 'real man' is him!"
A gasp escaped the young woman's lips. She had no idea that
Ryouga had gone that far. No wonder he had looked half-sick after he'd
spoken with Ranma. "Ryouga, maybe you should go," she suggested,
meaning it.
Unfortunately, the Lost Youth was still wrapped up in his role.
"Akane, it's true that I would like to be more than your friend. I'll
leave if that's what you want, but ... we both know that Ranma is no
longer worthy of you."
Two seconds later, an enraged gi-clad figure was flying at him.
His kick knocked Ryouga straight out of the dojo. [Akane is mine! No
one is taking her away from me, not while I have any breath left in this
damned body!] He ran to the shoji, intent on following up his attack.
After a moment of surprise, Ryouga twisted in mid-air and landed
in a crouch. "Well, one thing hasn't changed, Saotome. You still kick
like a girl." He was grinning like a madman but for different reasons other than what Ranma imagined. [Akane's plan worked.] His rival was back!
"Why I oughtta -"
"Stop it!" Akane, genuinely worried at the unexpected turn of
events, caught up and held onto her husband's left arm. "What're the two
of you doing?!"
But Ranma's attention was focused solely on the unwelcome
intruder. "Hibiki, I challenge you."
"WHAT?!" Both Akane and Ryouga gaped at him in shock.
"You heard me, P-chan! Three weeks from today in the empty lot
two blocks from here. If I win, you leave me and Akane alone. If you win,
I step outta the way."
"H-hey!" Akane sputtered in protest.
This time Ranma turned towards her. "Either way, it'll still be
your choice - we'll both promise that. Besides, didn't you once tell me
that if it ever came down to it, you could take care of him yourself?"
he grinned.
"That was Mousse," the girl muttered, distracted. "Waitaminit,
you can't do this! You don't understand -"
"It's done," was the short reply. "So whatcha say, P-chan? Or
are you too chicken to put your money where your mouth is?" Suddenly
something else worried the pigtailed martial artist. What if Ryouga
simply ignored his challenge? [Left myself wide open. I can almost
hear it - 'I'm sorry but I don't pick on the weak, Saotome!' Kuso!]
Fortunately or unfortunately, Ryouga understood this part well.
[We never planned for this! If I refuse, it's like saying that Ranma's
not worth fighting anymore. If I agree, I could end up hurting him.
Either way, Akane's going to mallet me into the sun!] He winced at the
memory of the swing that had connected with his skull when his secret
had been found out. "I'm sorry, Akane, but as a martial artist, I have
to accept his challenge."
"But - "
"Akane, don't butt in on a fight between two guys!" her husband
admonished. It earned him an indignant glare, but he ignored it.
"Let's make this clear, pigboy." His mouth set in a hard line.
"Whoever loses steps out of the way. That's all, the rest is up to
Akane. Oh, and if you don't make it to the lot in time, it's a default.
It counts, ya got that?"
[He's back alright, the arrogant jerk.] "Ha! You can bet I'll
be there, Ranma!" [Default, bah!] "I'll see you then, Akane!" Without another word, the directionally-challenged martial artist took off.
"Ryouga, wait!" Akane stamped her feet in frustration.
What did these baka think they was doing?! Ranma may have made
progress, but he hadn't recovered more than half of his former strength. He would be no match for his erstwhile rival.
It took her awhile to notice that the figure by her side had
gone completely still. At least not until he said, "If you want to go
after him ..."
"That's not what I meant!" Akane protested. "It's just, I don't
think you should be fighting!"
Blue-gray eyes peered into dark brown ones. "You don't believe
I can do it." [You used to believe in me, no matter what.]
The strange thing was, Akane did. There was absolutely no
logical basis for it, but somehow she knew Ranma would pull it off.
"It's not that," she replied truthfully.
The pigtailed martial artist shrugged, but inside he was all
nerves. "If you want me out of the way, say so. If pigboy's your
choice I'll...default. I owe you that much."
She couldn't believe her ears. Ranma throw a fight? It wasn't
possible. And what was this other business? For him to believe that
Ryouga liked her was one thing, but for that baka to think that she
would betray him - that was something else entirely! How could he after
all she'd done, all she'd gone through for his sake?!
"What are you talking about? I married you, Ranma!" She
fumed at the necessity of reminding him. Then something else he said
struck her. [He owes me. Is that all that holds him to me now?
Gratitude?]
The words weren't what Ranma had been hoping to hear. [So it's
about duty, huh, Akane? Not ... not love.] But she hadn't chosen
Ryouga, so he still had a chance. Somehow, he would make everything
right between them again. He wouldn't give her up, not without a fight.
He tightened the belt around his gi. "Then don't interfere."
==================
For those who think Ranma & Akane are acting OOC by current standards, please
remember that this is years into the future. Unfortunately, they still don't
communicate very well. Also, Akane's recurring dream about Ranma's seppuku is
just that - it's not meant to be an accurate depiction of ritual suicide.
Rough translation of some Japanese words used in this fic:
Baka = fool, idiot, and the like. Term Akane uses to insult Ranma
Kaishoku = the "second" in traditional seppuku. His/her job was to cut
off the samurai's head before the latter "dishonored" himself by
showing too much pain
Kimi = you (used by a husband to his wife). Ex. "Kimi no kawaii"
Kuso = a swear word
"Ittai koko wa doko da?!" = "Where on earth am I now?!" Ryouga's
cry when he's lost and frustrated about it
Musha-shugyo = training journey
Shimatta = "Damn it!"
Shoji = sliding doors, like the one at the Tendo dojo