Childlike Features

Italics are thoughts

I do not own Ranma ½. I write this for entertainment only. But if you copy what I wrote, shame on you!

Chapter the Second: Bathtubs and Chinese Shirts

Ranma sighed as he lowered himself into the bath, only then realizing that there was a problem. He had to tread water, because the side of the tub was too slippery. Frowning, he grabbed for it again, cursing to himself when his tiny fingers just slipped away.

I gotta get out before I cook! But no matter how he struggled, he couldn't get out. He even tried surging out of the water, but even that didn't work. Ranma fought on, though, furious with himself when he felt tears spike at the edges of his vision, telling himself over and over that men don't cry. But it didn't work, he had had a rough day and was too upset to stop them. The only thing keeping him from giving in now was the knowledge that if he lost focus, he'd never get out of the tub.

Akane…Ranma thought, then frowned and snarled to himself, if I asked her ta come in here, she'd think I was a pervert or somethin'. Stupid! I can't…Akane, he thought again, starting to feel fear spike as yet another attempt to get out of the tub failed.

"A…kane," he whispered shakily, clawing at the slick side. Please Akane…I'm…I'm scared, he admitted, in his thoughts but not out loud, his eyes squeezed shut. But they snapped open when soft hands grabbed him around the chest and he found himself being lifted out of the water.

Akane set him down in front of her, her eyes squeezed tightly shut, "are you okay, Ranma?" she asked, offering him a dry towel.

He gawked up at her, then numbly took the towel and murmured a reply. As she straightened, he watched her, once again fighting the urge to start crying. Men don't cry! The voice was beginning to sound like his father.

Ranma froze at that realization, then began to get dressed. He had no idea where Akane had gotten these clothes, they looked nothing like the ones he'd worn during the episode with the magic mushrooms. And they felt oddly…familiar.

"Your mom had them," Akane explained from the changing room, as if sensing what he was thinking, "I thought it might be better if you had your own instead of…well…mine."

She sounded so sad that Ranma frowned, looking down at what he was wearing. It looked vaguely similar to what he liked to wear now, Chinese pants and a silk shirt. He always told himself that he liked his clothes because they were tough, but that was a lie. He liked them at first because, in a way, he was vain. He liked the way they looked on him. It was his look. And it looked nothing like his stupid panda Oyaji. He liked that, especially after Jusenkyo. And after he arrived in Nerima, he liked them because…Akane liked them.

Ranma had once, on a lark, worn 'normal' clothes like the other teenage males. No one else seemed to mind, in fact several girls commented before they recognized him (as Akane's fiancée) but Akane's reaction had been…informative. He'd caught her frowning at him once, as if she disapproved of something. Her chi had told him that it wasn't him she disapproved of, so he'd taken a wild guess that it was the clothes. That look went away when he changed and came back down in his usual clothes.

An' she always likes to run some of the fabric between her fingers when I'm carryin' her, Ranma realized with a start, before finishing pulling on the shirt, I thought she'd lost her mind or was in shock or something the first time but…those times I had to lend a shirt to her, she relaxed once she was wearin' it. I could practically see her calm down.

"Ranma? Are you okay in there?"

He looked up, the mood broken and his pain returning in a rush. If she derived calm from his clothes…then they had something in common. The times she'd lent him clothes, for whatever reason, he'd felt relaxed. Calm. And the times she'd been in his arms, the feel of the cloth and the smell of her always relieved that fear he'd always had, deep down, that she might be just a dream.

Sudden need filled him and he practically lunged at the door, shoving it open and diving at a startled Akane. Grabbing her skirts, he stepped forward and buried his face in the fabric of her favorite skirt, the yellow one with blue moons on it. The tears came then, hot, wet tears that rapidly soaked the fabric. It hurt so much that once he started, he just kept on crying, clinging to her as best he could while giving up on controlling the pain and the tears it caused.

It was several minutes later that he became aware of the fact that he was being held and he focused long enough to see that Akane was kneeling on the floor in front of him, holding him close with such a look of concern on her face. She's only acting like this cause I look like a kid! He thought and abruptly pulled away, the pain warping and getting much worse.

"Ranma?" he shook his head, then started when she ground out a curse and picked him up, holding him as she snarled in his ear, "you baka! If you think I'm doing this out of pity or…or…whatever! You're wrong. You're upset and you came to me! And I… and I… I like that! I want you to come to me instead of someone else. So dammit, don't you dare pull away!"

Akane was crying now, her grip on him tightening a bit. Ranma was stunned by her words…and more so their meaning. She wasn't doing it for the reason he assumed. She was doing it because she cared…for him.