Ranma and company belong to the brilliant Rumiko Takahashi, but the poor fare below is mine. CC welcome. First fanfic warning applies. Barring an epilogue, this is the last chapter in Rekindling. Here goes ...
Words in (italics) are thoughts. Entire paragraphs in italics are flashbacks.
REKINDLING A FLAME
by: Skywatch
PART SIX: FLAME!
(How do you mend something that's broken?)
Akane brooded over the small campfire that she'd made. She added a few more twigs and nudged one of the branches. There was a crackling, sparks, and suddenly bright orange flames burst into life.
(Should you even try? Or should you leave it alone for awhile and hope that it mends on its own?)
The young woman sat back and sighed. She'd made a mess of training today. She'd done a few katas and exercises, but mechanically, just going through the motions. She couldn't focus, and she knew exactly why.
It was time to go back. The martial artist had promised her family a week, maybe two, no more. Kasumi's time was near and Akane had said that she'd be there. Only then had the Tendos stopped arguing with her.
It wasn't that Akane minded. She was genuinely happy for her sister and she was glad to help out. But going back meant another struggle to get away, and she wasn't looking forward to crossing swords with the formidable combined front that was her sisters and Otousan.
Returning to Nerima also meant ... (Ranma). In her heart she knew they would talk again. They hadn't really settled anything that day in the park. Another meeting wasn't only inevitable; it was the right thing to do.
Only she was far from prepared. In these mountains, everything seemed sharper, clearer, and Akane had gained some sense of herself again. But she hadn't come to a decision about her and Ranma, though to be honest he was never far away from her thoughts. At odd times of the day she would catch herself wondering how he was: if he was eating right, if he was taking care of himself and doing his exercises without overdoing it. She smiled faintly. Sometimes her husband could be so reckless.
A restless hour later, Akane gave up and entered her tent. She squirmed into her sleeping bag, shifted around until she was in a comfortable position, and pulled the windproof material close against the chilly night air. In less than a minute the tired woman was asleep and dreaming ...
A younger Akane bolted from her bed and grabbed her kendo stick. Something had definitely tapped against her window. She glanced at her digital clock. It was way past midnight. Whoever it was definitely meant no good. (If this is Kodachi again, kami help me, I'm sending her to another plane of existence!) Irritated beyond belief, she yanked her curtains aside.
And nearly jumped back in surprise.
"Finally! Hey, 'Kane, can you let me in? It's freezing out here!" The pigtailed youth visibly shivered as he swung outside her window.
"Ranma!" she hissed, glancing around. No family and crazy people around, thank the kami. Akane opened the window and stepped aside so he could swing in. After all, she could hardly let the man she was going to marry turn into a block of ice.
A freezing gust followed the youth's entrance. "Thanks!" Ranma hurriedly shut the window again.
"What were you thinking? Going outside my window on a night like this, and in just a jacket, too." Akane yanked a blanket off of her bed and tossed it to him.
"I didn't have time to throw anything else on," her iinazuke explained reasonably. He wrapped the thick blanket around himself. Then, grinning, he suddenly came close and threw his arms around her, cocooning them together in the blanket's woolly warmth.
"Ranma!" Akane protested, trying to wriggle away. "What are you doing!"
"Trying to spend some alone time with my fiancée," he said gruffly, pulling her closer. "Feels like we haven't in ages." He sighed contentedly. "This is nice."
Akane gave up and settled into his arms. This was nice, she conceded, turning into Ranma's embrace so she could hug him back. "This is crazy," she whispered halfheartedly. "If Nabiki wakes up -"
"She'll have some interesting pictures to add to that video she's going to show at the wedding." Ranma shrugged complacently. "I also thought I'd check on you, in case anyone got crazy ideas," he continued, keeping his tone light..
"I haven't seen Kodachi yet, if that's what you mean." The girl stifled a yawn. "I wish we could just get the wedding over and done with."
"You too, huh? I told ya we should've eloped," the pigtailed martial artist quipped. Then he frowned as his fiancée yawned again and visibly drooped in his arms. "Hey, are you falling asleep on me?" he asked indignantly.
"Sorry," Akane mumbled. "The wedding's in two days and I've been up since early morning, finalizing all sorts of things."
Then Ranma said a strange thing. "Guess that means you still want to marry me?"
The question, and the faltering way he voiced it, woke Akane right up. "What?" A familiar anxiety welled up in the shorthaired girl. She and Ranma had gone through a lot to get to this point. They could hardly believe that they'd made it, and half the time they still expected fate to throw a monkey wrench in. Was this it?
The youngest Tendo stepped back so she could meet the pigtailed youth's eyes. She could tell that something was worrying him. "What is it?"
His gaze on her was troubled. "Somebody said something to me today. My life's not normal. And you know better than most that I'm not the easiest person to live with ..."
"And I am? My life's 'normal'? Know many girls who fought past hentai hordes on their way to school?" Akane couldn't help cutting in. She was understandably a little steamed. The past weeks had been stressful, packed with a thousand wedding arrangements and last-minute attempts from the most recalcitrant suitors. This was not helping.
"I know, I know. But have you really thought about it, Akane? It's not gonna be easy."
"I – WE - never thought it was going to be easy. Are you having second thoughts, Ranma?" she asked bluntly, doggedly putting her fears aside. If he was having doubts, she wanted to know. "I thought we settled this already. Unless ... do either of us want to end up with someone else? Is there someone else?"
Ranma's eyes flashed. The answer to all three questions was the same, and had been for a long time now. "NO!" He took a deep breath. "It's just, you once asked me what I wanted but ... Akane, I don't know if anyone ever asked you."
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Akane shook her head. Her eyes softened. "Baka," she murmured affectionately, brushing a stray lock of hair from his face. "Somebody did. You did. When you asked me to marry you."
"Oh." The tension eased out of the pigtailed martial artist's face and pose. He brightened.
"Honestly," Akane huffed in feigned exasperation, "you're probably the only guy in Nerima who'd sneak into his fiancée's room just to talk her out of marrying him."
"Oh really?" A light of mischief entered Ranma's eyes. Whether she meant it to or not, Akane's words sounded like a challenge, and he could never turn down a challenge. "Does that mean you want me to act like some guy who sneaks into girls' rooms?"
He half-expected Akane to playfully knock him away. Or worse, depending on her mood. He was already braced for it. But nothing could have prepared him for the way she looked up and met his gaze, with a sudden tenderness that simmered around the edges and made his mouth go dry.
"Will you, Ranma?" the girl asked shyly. "Act like a guy who sneaked in here just to see me?"
"Akane?" The pigtailed martial artist swallowed nervously. This was the way it was between them. So many feelings wrapped up in a few words, a gesture, a look, a smile. Love. Affection. Trust most of all, because this was Akane, his Akane, who was so careful about these things.
He wouldn't have it any other way.
He leaned and held her closer, and suddenly he felt he had to say it, the awkward words. "Haven't you figured it out yet? Every time I was in here ... was because I wanted to see you."
Ranma snapped awake. He sat up and listened. Nothing. The silence around him confirmed that he was alone in the house. Again. He groaned. It was just another dream.
(Akane ...) He missed her. He hadn't expected to, not this much. Even before, he and Akane had sometimes spent time apart. He'd be after a cure or some new technique; she'd be off for a few days. But this - this not knowing when or even if (despite Kasumi's assurances) she'd be back, and knowing that even if she did return it wouldn't be to him – it was just plain hard.
He rubbed his eyes blearily and checked the clock next to the bed. 5:50 am. He sighed. (Might as well get suited up for my morning run.) It wasn't like he was going to get more sleep anyway. He never did after a dream like that.
Two mornings later, Akane walked into a neat and cozy kitchen. "Tadaima! Ohayou, oneechan," she greeted. "How are you feeling today?"
Kasumi smiled at her sister, obviously delighted to have her back. Pregnancy suited the eldest Tendo, gave her even more of a maternal glow, if that was possible. "Good morning, Akane. I'm so happy to see you! How was your training trip? Are you hungry? Breakfast is almost ready. I'd offer you some tea but it's not made yet."
"I'll get it." The short-haired girl found the kettle, washed it and set about making some tea. "You should let me do that, too, you know," she said, as Kasumi bustled around the rest of the food. "I can manage a meal now."
"Thank you, but you know how much I like preparing food. It relaxes me. Maybe in a week or two, after this little one comes along." The older woman beamed as she patted her belly. "That is, if you can stay that long?"
That was the problem with Kasumi, Akane thought wryly. She rarely insisted, never pushed, but just try saying no to her. After all, how do you refuse a pregnant sister's request for assistance, especially if that sister had practically raised you for most of your life? Simple. You don't.
"Of course," Akane conceded defeat with cheerful grace, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. This is my first niece or nephew." Kasumi had had the usual check-ups and periodic ultrasound, but in her old-fashioned way she hadn't wanted to be told what the baby's gender was. Nabiki had laid odds that it was a girl, though.
As Akane turned to rummage for some cups and saucers, she could almost see Kasumi's look of relief. Her sisters were not taking her plans of going on a musha-shugyo well. There was no set time for that kind of training journey. It could take weeks, months, sometimes years. In Ryouga's case, it practically defined his life. (Now there's a point I'm not making to my dad.) The waterworks would be astounding.
Then she caught it, the sense that she was being watched. Quickly, the martial artist whirled towards the window. Nothing. She glanced inquiringly at her sister, who'd been facing the window all along. "Was that ...?"
Kasumi nodded, serene as always. "Oh yes. He passes by every morning. Sometimes he stops and says hello but mostly he just checks to see if you're back. It's very sweet, really."
"Why doesn't he use the front door, like everyone else?" Akane grumbled, but she felt absurdly pleased. For some reason not related to Ranma passing by to check on her. (Riiight.)
"Maybe he senses that you're not ready." Kasumi set the steaming dishes out to cool a bit, and pulled a stool to seat herself. "Are you, Akane?"
The youngest Tendo sighed. "I don't know," she confessed. She had confided in Kasumi a little of what had happened between her and Ranma. "I had it all figured out. I ticked off the reasons why we shouldn't be together, why it would be better if we spent some time apart."
"But?"
"I ... love him," Akane whispered, warmth staining her cheeks. Admissions of affection between her and Ranma were rare, but the eldest Tendo had a quiet way of drawing out the truth. "Even when I was away I couldn't stop thinking about him."
"That doesn't change the fact that we're just too volatile together," Akane added quickly. "I mean, I look at your marriage, Kasumi. What the two of you have, that's what a marriage should be. You hardly argue, you take care of each other, you talk so easily, you'd never - " (ask your other to kill you or spend a year torturing your spouse) she was about to say, but couldn't.
"Akane." Kasumi's voice was gentle. She saw that her sister was on the verge of tears, and clasped the younger woman's hands. "There's no one definition of marriage. What we have suits us, but I'm not sure it would do for you or Ranma," she said truthfully.
Kasumi knew many considered her marriage ideal and in a lot of ways it was. It was a union between two people who'd spent their lives caring for others, and it was easy to add another cherished person to that circle. But adding one didn't mean that you stopped caring for the others in that circle. In Kasumi's marriage, dinners, nights out and vacation plans cancelled or rearranged at the last minute were not unusual. It might drive other people mad, but neither she nor her husband complained. They both understood how important these commitments - made before they had even met - were to each other.
Ranma and Akane were different. Theirs was a union of fighters, of natures both proud, impulsive and stubborn. You didn't need a crystal ball to predict that the marriage would be ... contentious. But it was by no means simply that.
It was ironic, Kasumi thought, that for all their shyness and the way they studiously avoided expressing affection in public, Ranma and Akane had become a romantic icon in Nerima. Anyone on the street could point them out. Present day high school students at Furinken knew who they were, and not just because some of them were students of the dojo.
Their love was the stuff of stories. What they had faced together, how they had fought side by side and nearly died for each other a dozen times over – these were well-known in Nerima. Their passion was not in their words or in public embraces, but it was evident in the way they looked at each other (particularly when the other wasn't looking), in the way they practiced martial arts together and, yes, even in the ways they disagreed.
Were Ranma and Akane even aware of how intensely their gazes locked sometimes? Kasumi doubted it. And the Tendos and the Saotomes were no longer the only ones who noticed how one instantly jumped to the other's defense.
Kasumi guessed this was why the backlash against Akane had been so harsh. Akane had unknowingly taken the starry-eyed image that people had built up about her and Ranma, and brought it crashing to the ground. People were never happy when their illusions were shattered. Kasumi herself had felt a little betrayed when she had seen how Akane treated Ranma after the accident. How could this impatient, almost cruel, young woman be her sister? Now, of course, she understood. Akane hadn't been picking on Ranma – she had been challenging him.
"I won't judge your marriage, Akane," Kasumi continued. "I've done enough judging this year and I was wrong. No, let me finish," the older woman overrode her sister's well-meaning protests. "I should've had more faith in you. I will always be sorry that I turned against you. But before you think that the situation between you and Ranma is hopeless, there's something you should know." She paused. "Ranma told everyone."
"Wh-what?" To say that Akane was stunned was putting it lightly.
"He came here one day, and made sure that I knew exactly what went on. It seems that Nabiki told him how ... angry I got with you," for the first time in ages, there was a hint of shame in Kasumi's voice, "and that the neighbors weren't even talking to you. He asked for advice on how to deal with our neighbors. Eventually, he ended up talking to Omahashi-san."
"The old lady who splashes him," Akane supplied in a dazed voice. This couldn't be. Ranma was an intensely private person. He'd never ... except that according to Kasumi, he had.
Kasumi nodded. "Only this time he stopped and asked for a towel, and she ended up inviting him in for tea. I advised him not to give all the details, but I think he told her enough." Mrs. Omahashi was a garrulous old lady who had lived in Nerima all her life, which meant she knew practically everyone. Telling her the story of the past year was practically the same as announcing it to the whole community. "So don't be surprised if the neighbors stop to talk to you. I think everyone feels a bit guilty about how they treated you."
She waited for Akane's response, but it soon became clear that her sister was still too astounded to say anything. "If you feel that things need to change between you and Ranma, then change them," Kasumi went on more firmly. "If you think going away is what's best, I won't stop you, however much I want to. But there is another way. You can work it out together. That's part of being married, too."
Akane was silent for a minute. "How ... how did he look, 'neechan?" She tried unsuccessfully to hide the concern in her voice.
"Oh he looked fine." Kasumi chose her next words with great care. "Very fit, running on the wall."
Akane's head shot up. "Running on the ... WALL!" she repeated in disbelief.
"Why yes. I believe he was. Is anything wrong, Akane?" Kasumi blinked at her sister artlessly.
"Why that, that - !" Akane was highly tempted to mutter a few choice swear words, but managed to restrain herself in light of Kasumi's condition. "He shouldn't be running on the wall! He shouldn't even be on the wall. It could start snowing at any time, the ice will make everything slippery. He should be walking. On the ground. Slowly!" The youngest Tendo hurriedly broke away, poured the tea and set out the cups and saucers. "If you'll excuse me, neechan, I have some things to do. I'll be back later!"
Kasumi looked bemused as the whirlwind pounded out of her kitchen. "Ah, young love," she murmured, when she was sure Akane was gone. Those two really were very sweet.
It was a GOOD day! Ranma ran, leapt over a wall, bounded onto another wall and, with barely a pause to keep his balance, began to take steps along the narrow brick. He gradually gained speed until he was doing a respectable jog - not quite his old effortless sprint - but still pretty good.
In a few minutes he was back in his own yard, but he was still too wound up to stop. He began shadow-fighting, punching and kicking at an imaginary opponent. There was no rhyme to his moves; this was no kata, just pure exuberance, seeing what he could do. He launched into a couple of roundhouse kicks. Again, a tad slow, but at least the balance was there, the control. Ranma smiled. He wondered if . . . ah, to heck with the wondering, just do it!
He somersaulted into the air. It was pure bliss, the moment his body spent suspended in the air. His body curved back like a bow and he stretched his arms out to meet the onrushing ground. Then he pushed off again, this time into a simple flip that ended with him landing on his feet.
He paused for a second, a bit out of breath. His arms were okay, but that landing was not as solid as he liked. (Maybe I should try ...)
"That was good."
Ranma's heart nearly stopped. Slowly, fearfully, he turned around.
Akane smiled at him uncertainly.
Ranma stared at her; he couldn't help it. There was something different about Akane, he thought, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Heck, he was never good at details like that. Like those times when Akane would complain out of the blue that she needed a haircut, and he'd just shrug and say that it looked okay. It never failed to annoy her, but what was he supposed to say? Akane was Akane. Sure, some days she looked better than others, but even on her worst days she was the girl he'd grown up with and the woman he'd married. She knew him best, and he loved her above all others.
And yet he had hurt her terribly.
Akane had gotten to the yard just in time to see the red almost-blur that was her husband bounce all over the yard. She had been about to call him when he had launched into a somersault. It had taken her breath away. She had almost forgotten how Ranma loved taking to the air ... and how much she liked watching him. In those moments, Ranma was like poetry come to life.
She cast about for something to say. "Um, why don't you cool down while I make breakfast? Nothing fancy but nothing toxic, I promise."
"I'd like that," Ranma answered simply.
Once Akane was out of sight, he went through his cool down exercises in record speed. His heart had leapt when he'd spotted Akane at Kasumi's, but not in his wildest dreams had he expected her to come so soon. (Gotta take a shower, find a nice shirt, think about what to say. Oh kami, do NOT let me screw this up!)
It was a good thing, the pigtailed youth reflected, that Akane was a little slow when she cooked, making sure she got things right. But not quiet. He heard her banging pans around as he ran past the kitchen - "Be right back!" - and finally allowed himself a smile. (It's good to have her back.)
Ten minutes later, Akane watched Ranma gingerly sip the simmering bowl of miso soup she'd prepared. The young woman nearly rolled her eyes. Honestly, it had been years since her last bad meal but he still wouldn't take her food without testing it first.
Ranma, apparently decided that the soup was not only safe but actually good, flashed an appreciative smile at her. Then, predictably, the food took his full attention.
Which is why Ranma missed how flustered Akane was. Two weeks thinking about Ranma, their problems, the year that had passed - that was one thing. Actually being here, having him so near (... if I wanted to I could just reach out and ...), seeing him smile like that, was an entirely different matter. He was so alive. His very presence thrummed with energy and spirit. When he had soared earlier, Akane's heart had cheered.
Now, this person sitting across from her - doing nothing more fancy than half-slurping his soup while simultaneously scooping some rice and fish with his chopsticks - this was the Ranma she had known all her life. He was silly sometimes, arrogant and a bit of a glutton, but he could also be kind in unexpected ways. Indomitable. And he would be there for her, no matter what. He had her back.
And she would always have his ... Akane's eyes grew wide. (You dummy, did you even think that you were starting to get over him?)
"What?" Ranma cocked an eye at her, the tip of his chopsticks still in his mouth.
Oh great, he had caught her staring! Now what? "Your hair's still wet." It was true. Ranma had returned from the shower with his hair hanging loose, and although he'd carelessly placed a towel over his shoulders, there were already damp patches on his shirt.
"Huh?" Ranma placed his bowl and chopsticks down.
"Let me." Before he could figure out what she was planning, Akane was standing behind him. With the ease of someone who had done the same thing dozens of times before, she tugged the towel off his shoulders and began rubbing his hair with it.
Ranma let his head fall back, his nape resting on the back of the chair. He was looking up at her, but she studiously kept her eyes on what she was doing. He got the hint after awhile and closed his eyes.
"Do you have a wide-toothed comb?" she asked after awhile.
"Nuh-uh."
She tsked in annoyance. "We just can't let your hair dry out like this! It's going to get tangled."
If he could've in his current position, Ranma would've shrugged. Man, the stuff women worried about! Hey, it was hair. When it dried, you tied or braided it and that was that. Course, he had to admit that it looked and behaved better when he followed Akane's advice.
He heard her sigh. "I guess we'll just have to make do."
And that was when he felt it – the first of several fleeting touches as Akane's fingers combed through his long black hair, the tips of her fingers brushing tentatively, and then more firmly, along his scalp. Ranma froze for the tiniest second before he bonelessly gave in to her ministrations. His head slid back further until his neck was exposed, as far as comfort would allow.
He'd almost forgotten about this. How in their first year together Akane, muttering imprecations about how he was trailing water all over the place, had caught him off-guard with an offer to dry his hair. The resulting gesture was matter-of-fact and yet somehow blatantly intimate, and, after some early self-conscious awkwardness, Ranma had simply given himself up to what became one of their rituals.
He knew what it looked like; his mother had once caught them and had expressed pleasant surprise at Akane for doing such a dutiful, wifely thing as combing out her masterful sensei-husband's hair. But Ranma knew different. The truth was he wouldn't be caught dead with anybody else in this position; it seemed too, he couldn't describe it exactly, weak? girly? Akane had once revealed that she used to do the same thing for Kasumi when they were both much younger. He would never be comfortable with anyone else doing this because in this position he felt too ... open, for lack of a better word, oddly defenseless. But not with Akane.
Time almost ceased to mean anything as the feather-light finger brushing continued. Until Ranma ruined it.
"I don't know what to say to you." The martial artist didn't know what possessed him to speak. Maybe it was the fact that his eyes were closed and that he was totally relaxed for the first time in ages. "To get you to stay, I mean."
He felt Akane freeze in mid-sweep and draw back.
He groaned in protest at the loss of contact. Then he was on his feet, but not too fast and not too close. He didn't want to spook her.
"Ranma, I ..." Akane shook her head nervously. "Can we go outside?"
Without waiting for his answer, she led the way until they found themselves sitting side by side on the steps leading to the pond and the backyard. From here, you could just make out the koi swimming in the pond. (Just like old times.)
"How have you been doing? I mean, has Dr. Tofu ...?" Akane trailed off. She wanted him to provide the details.
"Well, I got my balance back. You saw," Ranma couldn't help smirking as he said it, replaying the somersault in his mind.
"Yup," Akane returned cheerfully, "and I also heard that you've been running on walls."
(Uh-oh.) "Akane," he said, enunciating her name carefully, "it's no big deal ..."
Wrong move. "No big deal!" she huffed. "Are you crazy? It's w-i-n-t-e-r. Do you want to slip and fall somewhere? Baka yaro!"
"Hey!" he protested.
"I'm not going through this again. Do you hear me, Ranma! I'm not! I can't!" Suddenly she was crying, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I won't."
"Akane ..." he whispered, helpless in the face of her stark anguish. "If it's gone too far, if you - you don't ..." he stammered, and found that he couldn't continue. If she said yes now, he would lose her and how could he do that? How could he stretch out the ache that he had lived with for the last two weeks into months and years?
Akane wiped at her eyes, furious at herself for losing control. "I wish I didn't," she confessed. "This would be so much easier." She took a deep, ragged breath. "It's not working, you and I. We should –"
"No," he cut her off. The word was hard and implacable. Then, more softly, "I won't accept that. Not without trying."
He had something on his mind, she could tell. "What do you want, Ranma?" she asked curiously.
"A year."
Her reply was instantaneous, "No." She moved to get up, and would've if his hand hadn't snaked out to grasp hers.
"Hear me out. Please." When she sat down again, he continued, but this time he wasn't gazing out at the pond or the yard. He was looking straight at her. "I'm not trying to trick you this time. I said I was sorry, and I meant it. That said, I gotta make a confession. And I know it's going to make you mad."
Akane saw how hesitant, how almost fearful Ranma was. "I'm listening."
Ranma screwed his eyes shut for a moment. "I knew it was wrong," he admitted.
(That's it?) But Ranma had said that before, hadn't he? And when Akane remembered what he had been like after the accident, how he could barely talk and move his head, she could hardly get mad at him for that. Or at least, not any madder than she already was about the vow he had gotten her to take. "I already -"
"No, you don't understand," he cut her off softly. "I knew it was wrong and I saw how much it was hurting you, but I didn't stop." Ranma's voice fell to a near-whisper. "I could've lifted the vow at any time this year. I knew you wanted me to. Oh yes," he affirmed as her eyes flew to his in disbelief, "every time I sensed that you were near asking, I'd draw away or pick a fight."
Akane could hardly believe her ears. "You deliberately ...?" Her fists clenched in her lap.
"Yes. You see," he hesitated, every bit of pride in him warring with the determination to be honest, "I was afraid. I thought I'd lost everything."
"Why are you telling me this now?" she demanded, torn between tears and anger.
"Because I just found out myself." He raked one hand through his hair in discomfort. "Look, when you went away, I was alone for the first time in years. I mean, people came over but they'd quickly leave, y'know? It gave me a chance to think and to figure things out. And finally I did. It's obvious, really. I love you, Akane," he said matter-of-factly, "but everything I have, everything I am has always been tied to martial arts. So I couldn't deal with losing the Art for good. I knew that without it, I'd be nothing."
She quickly denied it. "That's not true."
"No?" He raised an eyebrow. "When our fathers engaged us, what was that based on? It wasn't because I was the son of your father's best friend, it was because I was the Heir to the Musabetsu Kakutou Ryuu." Ranma dared her to disagree with him, but saw that she wouldn't.
"And your father and mine," he continued, "clearly expected certain things - that I'd protect you, fight all challengers, carry on the School - and for all that I had to be the best. I remember having nightmares when Ryouga first learned the Shishi Houkou Dan and I lost to him," Ranma mused. "Part of it was because my ego couldn't take it, that Ryouga beat me even if technically it was just a practice match. But I also had this picture of the future, that you would all flock to him for protection and I'd be nothing, just another freeloader."
"Even me." Akane's disappointment was palpable.
He nodded. She wanted the truth from him and after everything that had happened this year, it was the least she deserved. "It took awhile for that whole I'm a martial artist, too, I can protect myself' thing to sink in. That you meant it and that you ... liked me for other reasons."
Akane looked away. "It never really mattered to me, you know, when you were weak."
"Yeah, but it mattered to me. I never want to be weak around you, Akane." He took a deep breath. "I'm not making excuses. I like being the Heir, winning fights, and I don't think I could ever stand by and watch you get hurt without doing something about it. But ... I also can't help feeling that I'm nothing without these abilities. If I can't fight, Akane, what else am I good for?"
It was too much of an echo of his first words to her after the accident. "Ranma, there are many physically challenged people in the world who've made a difference."
He nodded. Akane and Dr. Tofu had spent the first few months of Ranma's convalescence throwing strange names at him. Stephen Hawking. Christopher Reeve. Others he couldn't recall right now, some of whom had made more of a difference to the world, and shown more courage, than most people put together. "I know ... but I'm not one of them."
To his surprise, she swore and jumped up so that she was standing over him. Good! The show of temper meant he was getting through to her.
"After all this, you're saying you wouldn't even try! You're a sensei, a teacher! You think that stops just because you can't get up and show your students how a move is done? You know martial arts; it's in your head and your heart. You can share that with people." Akane was breathing hard and nearly shaking with indignation. "You remember that book Dr. Tofu gave you about jeet kune do? Bruce Lee wrote that book when he was paralyzed. Ranma, you're the most inventive man I know! You're irrepressible, you always find ways to adapt and to turn things to your advantage. That you just gave up, and that you asked me to kill you - dear God!"
Ranma got to his feet, too. "Akane, try to understand. At the time of the accident, I couldn't see a way out. It takes a different kind of courage to live with that condition day in and day out," he said with utter respect, "and I didn't have it."
He took a step towards her, and to his relief she didn't draw away. "But I have it now. For you, and for our family if you still want one. One year, Akane," he murmured. "Let me show you. We've been through so much already. Shouldn't we give ourselves a chance?"
"Ranma." She was wavering; he saw it, but - "Hasn't what we've been through made you question whether we should be together? It should've never gotten that far, us hurting each other day in and day out, keeping our secrets, and you having to fight Ryouga. Maybe with another person it wouldn't have."
"Or maybe another person would've bailed," Ranma reasoned. "It could've gone either way. Besides, I don't care! I'm not looking for 'another person'."
Akane looked at him fully now, and he was taken aback by the sadness in her eyes. "But maybe I am another person," she said slowly. "Ranma, this year ... changed me. I'm not the same person you married. That girl couldn't have done what I did."
To her surprise, Ranma shook his head. "Then I'd be dead," he stated simply, "or worse. I said this before: You did what you had to do. I'm not gonna kid you; there were times when I hated what you were doing, but in the end it worked. As for being the same person, well I'm not the guy you married either. When you're stuck to a chair for half a year, you get to think. That guy from four years ago? He'd be flying over walls before talking to you like this," he admitted ruefully. "Actually, flying over walls would probably be easier. This is hard work."
"Then why do it?" The question just slipped out.
Ranma actually smiled at her. "Because it's worth it." Tentatively, he moved closer to her. A tight knot in his chest loosened when she held her ground. But she still looked nervous and indecisive, so unlike the woman he knew!
"Akane," he began slowly, "I dunno bout kids or whether I'm fit to be a dad, but there is one thing I do know. I have this picture in my head sometimes, of what it'll be like when I'm old. We'll be sitting somewhere and we'll be gray and maybe a little on the slow side, and we'll still be bickering ... and I don't mind."
"Don't you see?" he asked, and this time there was a faint note of pleading in his voice. "You're the only one I've ever wanted beside me."
He was close enough to touch her. Akane watched him, fascinated. She couldn't move now if her life depended on it. What would he do now, she wondered. Would he kiss her like the last time? Unconsciously, she braced herself for it, and it tore at something in Ranma that she was standing there as if he were about to launch some kind of assault.
In that moment, Ranma got it. (This isn't a fight.) Of course. This wasn't something he could get by pushing hard enough. Akane was uncertain, and he had to let her deal with her doubts on her own time. This part was her fight. What he needed to do was to step back and let her work it out. And why not? He had done it before, even stopped Ryouga from rushing to avenge Akane because he knew she wouldn't like it. There were some things that only Akane could do and decide for herself.
He had asked for a chance to show her. That was exactly what he had to do. But that didn't mean he couldn't reach out and ...
Akane was unprepared for the familiar sweetness of Ranma's strong, calloused fingers curving against her cheek.
"I missed you, Akane," he confessed in a low, roughened voice.
The plainly spoken words were her undoing. No hemming and hawing. Just simple, honest emotion. So unlike the Ranma of this past year. And she could do no less than to be just as truthful. The time for tricks and schemes between them was finally, definitely over.
Akane's hand rose up to meet her husband's, so that she could cradle the warmth of his palm against her cheek. "I missed you, too, Ranma."
"Don't cry," he said gently, as his fingers met a telltale tear. "We'll work it out, you'll see."
"Don't shut me out again." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"I promise." And finally - finally! Ranma was able to hold her again. His wife. His Akane.
Notes:
At last! (Do I hear echoes? Trust me, I'm about as relieved to get to this point as you are.) Many thanks to everyone who reviewed Rekindling! This story turned out a lot better because of your reviews. I'm still having a hard time believing it got more than 120 reviews! Wow. Special thanks to those who stuck with the story almost from the beginning – dennisud, Pinku, Cat, AkaneAlways, Shaeya, Shadow, Love3the3vil,morgannia, r.j.g., terpsichore & doc, to name a few (sorry if I missed anyone). Pinku, your last review got this chapter moving again, thank you. Readers, I hope you like this chapter.
A word on the ending. I know some of you might be disappointed by the, um, lack of fireworks. I tried, folks, but the story just got stuck. Ranma and Akane went through a traumatic year that almost split them up and no matter how I wrote it, it just didn't seem right to have them back together and acting as if nothing had happened. That kind of healing takes time, which is why I'm probably going to end up writing an epilogue set a few months after this chapter.
I can practically hear the groans. How long will that take? I'm still high from the reviews, so let me offer this as a kind of incentive: I will post the epilogue no more than 8 days after Rekindling reaches 150 reviews. Please note: the epilogue will be posted even if there are less than 150 reviews. The number's just there to make the process a little faster. :) Flames are not counted (since this is supposed to encourage me to write faster), and only one review per reader please. :)
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 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)
Kuso - a swear word; roughly equivalent to "shit"
"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
Otousan - Father
Oyaji - a less respectful way of saying father; usually translated as
"Pop" in the anime
Shimatta - "Damn it!"
Shoji - sliding doors, like the one at the Tendo dojo