And the world ticked slowly on.
One month, eight days, fifteen hours, and twenty-nine minutes were chiseled away at time. Or perhaps it could be measured by the passing of sixty-three martial arts classes taught at the dojo. Or even still it might be measured by phases of the moon, sunsets, blinks, breaths, and other uncountable increments of nonsense.
Ranma preferred the simpler methods, having never been fond of mathematics, but after Rori he seemed to count everything. He counted the number of katas his students performed during class, the number of times Kasumi visited a week, the number of times Soun balled in public, the number of times his father struggled for words around him, and the number of times he caught Akane crying silently so as not to be caught. He continued counting because he could find no other way to handle everything, to handle Akane and the pain. Perhaps counting helped him clock the distance from the time of her death, hoping that with each new second, blink, breath that the hurting would lessen. Until then all he knew to do was to stay in the dojo and keep counting.
One punch, one kick, and two punches, one double kick. And so on . . .
And in another place. . . . .
Nabiki bit her lip and concentrated over the pile of bills on her dorm room desk. She abandoned her usual extracurricular campus activity in the past few months, running a secretive gambling ring on campus, and focused completely on making sure all the medical bills were paid. Neither Ranma nor Akane asked her to help with the bills or even mentioned the staggering amount of money they owed to the hospital that their basic insurance did not cover, but she assumed the responsibility. She could not console like Kasumi, weep like her father, gently care for Ranma and Akane like Nodoka, but this she could do with skill.
At first, she spoke to Ukyo and Cologne about running small benefits at their restaurants for the young family. Both Ukyo and Cologne agreed immediately and much of Nerima came to support Ranma and Akane with their money, well wishes, and prayers. Then, she called in some favors from a few of her contacts and asome of the bills were paid without question. Finally, she demanded payment from some outstanding borrowers and paid for some bills out of pocket. This all was just the beginning and as far as Nabiki Tendo was concerned she was far from done. She knew when every last medical bill was paid then she would be able to give what she owed to that little girl.
Nabiki bit her lip and remembered.
"We want you to be Rori's godmother."
Nabiki smirked, "You're kidding right, Ranma?"
Ranma looked down at Rori as she slept in the incubator, "Nope."
"Let me guess. Akane's idea, right?"
"Well, the way Akane and I figured it there were only two choices to be Rori's godmother, you and Kasumi. And Akane said something that made me choose you."
Nabiki frowned and looked at Akane questioningly, "What?"
"I told Ranma that you may not show it but you take care of the people you love. You just do it a little differently than the rest of us."
"Don't let that get out," she quipped while looking down at Rori. The baby continued to sleep, she did that often, but Doctor Matsushita constantly assured them it was a good sign. Nabiki felt the muscles protecting her supposed hard heart wobble a bit and knew it was too late. That tiny, sickly all together wonderful bundle that kept trudging through all the medical problems had gotten to her.
"C'mon, Nabiki. Yes or no?" Ranma prompted.
Nabiki sighed, "She's beautiful. Are you sure I'm not going to screw this up or try to peddle pictures of her for diaper ads or something?"
"Your it," Akane smiled, brimming with confidence and waiting for an answer.
Nabiki looked out her window and tried to pretend that the beginnings of a tear were not forming. She took a fist and wiped at her eyes viciously, fidgeted in her chair, twiddled her pencil for a moment, and then with a single-mindedness that only she possessed shifted her focus back to the long list of numbers.
"Life is so damned unfair," she whispered.
And yet elsewhere . . . . . .
Akane looked in the tiny room that had been meant to be Rori's nursery. Her fingers gripped the doorframe before she summoned the courage to step through. She looked regretfully at the room as sunlight filtered through the window and gave the light blue walls a soft glow. The room was already blue when she and Ranma had moved into the apartment, but Nodoka had snuck in while they were at the hospital and with some white paint had highlighted the walls with cottony painted clouds. She nearly cried when Nodoka brought her into the room, thinking now that Rori had something special to come home to she would surely be there soon.
The baby bed sat in the middle of the room still assembled and a stuffed teddy bear, Ranma's old toy, was tucked into the corner of it. A stash of diapers was still packed in the closet. The clothes Soun bought for Rori were stashed in the drawer of the tiny dresser. The silver rattle Nabiki had given as a present; Nabiki insisted her godchild would have the best, sat on top the dresser accumulating dust. The knitted white blanket with blue ribbon Kasumi made, the one Rori had been covered up with in the hospital still rested on top the near empty toy chest.
Akane could not bring herself to sort through Rori's unused belongings. The thought of packingall of it awaymeant for her it would be like admittingRori never existed and all these things and plans never took shape in her mind. Instead, the room became like a monument, the place she came to do her homework only when Ranma was out teaching classes at the dojo. Not that she had to scramble to spend time in the nursery; Ranma was always at the dojo and truthfully she preferred it that way. Her time in this room was private and the last thing she needed was to try to explain to Ranma what she was doing.
Akane sighed, sat on the floor, opened her Literature textbook, and prepared to read. She tried to concentrate on the old poems she was required to read for Monday, but instead stretched and rested on her back, staring up at the clouds painted on the ceiling. She placed a hand on her stomach and remembered how Rori used to kick at all hours, making her restless which always woke Ranma. Usually, they would go to the kitchen, eat sandwiches or Akane's latest odd craving, and talked about future plans, waiting for the latest spell of kicking to stop.
Now, things were so terribly silent.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Kasumi was the mother. This role had not been one she had chosen, but rather it shifted to her and somehow she accepted it admirably. Not many in Nerima realized it, but behind the mirthful mask Kasumi Tendo was a soldier. Only she could balance her sadness along with the grief of the entire family. Still, memories of Rori's promise for the future, the certainty that the Anything Goes School would continue, and the knowledge of how that little girl could make all of the craziness and bickering in the family disappear with her presence would arrive announced. Sometimes it came while cleaning the dojo, sometimes while sleeping, and at other times while shopping around town. Yet, Kasumi soothed her father, spoke to Akane, and managed to get Ranma to emerge from his internal despair on occasion.
Now, Kasumi was preparing a dinner while Ranma was teaching the beginner martial arts class in the dojo. She checked her watch; it was time for the class to end. She approached the dojo in time to see the last students run out the door and Ranma straightening things.
"Ranma?"
He lifted his head, "Hey, Kasumi. What's up?"
"Are you staying for dinner?"
"Sure," he answered, continuing to clean things up.
Kasumi bit her lip and considered before asking the next question, "Is Akane going to be coming?"
"Doubt it."
"She hasn't come to dinner in a while."
"Nope," he agreed.
"Why not?"
Ranma paused from his cleaning and frowned, "I guess she's busy with college. You know, homework and stuff."
"Oh. I was hoping we could all have dinner together tonight." Kasumi frowned.
"Don't hold your breath," Ranma finished, clapping his hands together to wipe the dust from them. "She's been really busy with school and paying the bills."
Kasumi closed her eyes and sighed, "Is she eating at home?"
"I guess. I don't know. Why?"
"She's lost weight. Haven't you noticed?"
Ranma was puzzled, "No."
And for one moment, Kasumi lost all patience, "Then open your eyes, Ranma." Kasumi turned away and took a few steps out of the dojo before returning. "Dinner will be ready in five minutes."
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Saying goodbye is all we know of heaven and all we need of hell.
Akane read Emily Dickenson's words in her Literature textbook and smirked bitterly, "You don't say." She remained on the floor of the nursery, sitting with her legs crossed, and a pencil in her right hand. The test was soon, too soon with the concentration she had lately, but she would do fine. She always did.
The front door of the apartment creaked and Ranma stepped through across the threshold, "I'm home, Akane. I brought some takeout for you."
Akane checked her watch, "Shit." She had lost track of time and there was no chance now to slither out the room unnoticed.
"Where are you?"
Akane heard the keys hit the counter; the sound seemed to echo in her chest. She closed the textbook and backed against the wall. He walked around the cramped living room, scanning his surrounding and waiting for some noise. He frowned at the light coming from the nursery and walked down the short hallway.
"Akane?"
"Here, Ranma," she answered weakly.
His head popped into the room, "What're you doing in here?"
"Studying."
"Why here?" She shrugged in response. "Well, get up. I brought you food."
"Not hungry."
Ranma eyed her, "Looks like you could use a study break."
"I'll be out in a second."
Ranma turned away for a moment and lulled, thinking there must be more to say. Something else should be said since Kasumi had hinted around as much this afternoon, but he never chose the right words. He knew with Akane sometimes the right glance, touch, or word could make all the difference, but since Rori their words were perfunctory and few. Their tongues froze and minds dulled when in proximity of each other.
Ranma turned back, "You know I can pack this stuff up if you want. I can make it into a study for you or something."
The world tilted and the edges of her vision blurred into a pastel edge. Ranma blended into the wall for a moment and Akane thought for an instant that tears gave the room the sudden surrealism, but there was no salty sting to the illusory edge.
"You're kidding right?"
"Whatever you want," he mumbled.
"You want to pack it all up?" She bit down on her lip, hard, "You think you can just pack it all away? Forget? Is that what you want?"
"No, Akane. I just thought. . . ."
"Maybe this is easier for you, Ranma, but it's not for me."
"That's not what I meant."
"Then what did you mean?"
Ranma wrung his hands, "I just wanted to help."
"By packing it all away. That's going to fix everything?"
"No!"
"Then what?"
"I don't know." He scowled and tried to find something to express his good intentions, but nothing came. "Damn it, Akane. Why've you got to make this so difficult?"
"Because things don't just get better if you pack it away. I can't just get over it like you can."
"That's what you really think?"
Akane sighed, defeated, "I don't know what to think." She stood up, dropping the textbook from her lap, and swept past Ranma and out the door.
"Where are you going?"
Akane walked down the hall and then grabbed her coat from the hook by the front door, "Out."
"Why?"
"I need a second to breathe. I can't do that here." She opened the door and looked at Ranma. He was angry, confused, and possibly a bit concerned. Funny, she had not seen him concerned for her in ages.
Ranma's firm hand slammed the door shut, "If you're going to go eat first."
"Not hungry." Akane batted his hand out of the way, opened the door, and stormed down the sidewalk.
"And you're getting too damn skinny," he yelled out the door.
"I thought I was a gorilla," she yelled, continuing her march away from him.
Ranma slammed the door and fumed, "That went well."
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Too soon after the wake and funeral, four days, Akane kept her promise to Kasumi. She approached the bed she shared with Ranma and placed her hand on his shoulder.
"Ranma?"
"What?"
"Can we talk?"
"'Bout what?"
"Everything that's happened."
"What am I supposed to say? It's happened and we can't change that." He did not take the trouble to roll over and look at her.
Akane looked out the window as dusk set into the evening, trying again to reword her request, "I've been talking to Kasumi and she said a lot of couples who lose children get divorced. I don't want that, Ranma. I want to talk."
"We'll be fine."
Since the funeral, Ranma buried himself in the art. Soun suspended classes at the dojo for two weeks and Ranma began to wake early, meditate, practice, and train until the sun began to set. The answers and peace were always found in the art. As far as he was concerned, no talking or crying could heal his focus and heart like martial arts and he was in no condition to try and heal a splintered Akane. The stubborn girl would find her own way with or without his help.
"You don't know that," she whispered. She curled up to his form in the bed, placing her head at his neck. Clinging to him tightly, she hoped he would say something that would help her mend or at the least put a piece of her fractured world together.
"I don't work like you do, Akane. Your way isn't mine." His voice was cold, uncaring, cruel.
She drew back from him and disappeared further into herself. In the tick and tock of that second, she created a realm inside her to house the thoughts, feelings, and dead hopes for Rori that Ranma refused to hear. If he preferred to find comfort in the art instead of her, then that was the way it would have to be.
She pulled a hand up and rested it on her chest, unconsciously making Ranma's words correct. In that moment, Akane's path became very separate from Ranma.
"Oh. Well never mind then."
Akane remembered the moment from the bench of Nerima's town park. It was dark and only an occasional laughter from a child or a meandering couple broke the silence. She liked it here. Being in the apartment was crowding; the air was stale. It made her lungs ache. Here, the world was open and she allowed things to touch her, to affect her.
Everywhere else well meaning people asked if she was okay or spouted "I'm sorry's" as though they had personal blame in Rori's death. Even Shampoo and Ukyo tried to comfort her in their awkward assurances and occasional food gifts. Neither forgot Akane's clumsiness in the kitchen and used the knowledge to try to bring consolation to her. Others tried to comfort her, telling her that there would be other children, and others that did not know what to say and acted nervous around her, afraid their words might bring sadness or worse tears. Some handled it by chattering endlessly while others waited before speaking, believing they chose the just right words.
But at home, it was all the time quiet.
After the terrible exchange of words, Ranma had spoken to her very little and she had no words to offer to him. The routine they established in their first year of marriage stuck and carried them through the past month. It was surprising how well they functioned without speaking or even really looking at one another. She could never tell Ranma, but Rori's eyes were his eyes, and looking at them stung.
In the hospital, she held Rori scores of times. Rori always focused on her with bright eyes and had a face so full of expression. Each smile, frown, pacified, content, upset face she made, even the look of pain she sometime wore, were blessings. Now, Ranma's eyes beckoned memories of those lost miracles. And only after the death could Akane know that each moment and expression of her child was a miracle.
In the world of now, Akane knew she was consumed by the lost miracle. So much so that she now lived at variance with the rest of the waking, living world.
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Soun, Nodoka, Genma, and Kasumi ate together at least once a week. Soun's home, just a few years back brimmed with noise and chaos, but most of the occupants had moved out. Ranma and Akane moved after they married, Nabiki moved to a private college dorm, and Genma moved into Nodoka's home but still visited daily to escape the relatively new constancy of his wife.
Tonight Nodoka made the gyoza meal and always shared in the cooking duties with Kasumi. The two women developed a bond while making the weekly meals, something that Kasumi only now realized she needed. This new friendship made her realize how singular the life she had become accustomed to was, and now the two of them often went to shop or eat out.
In typical fashion, Soun and Genma had been drinking sake since the early evening and were now feeling quite warm and reminiscent. They recounted their adventures training under Happosai and exaggerated most of their stories. Nodoka cast a knowing glance towards Kasumi over her cup of tea and grinned.
"Kasumi," Nodoka interrupted Genma from another truth-stretching tale and brought up a subject she felt needed to be discussed with the entire family, "have you spoken to Akane lately? I've been a bit worried over her."
"I've tried, but she's been quiet the last few days."
"Have you tried talking to her, Soun?"
Soun choked on his cup of sake and teared up, "I don't know how to talk to her anymore."
"Maybe you could talk to her about losing Kimiko. You can connect with her over that." Nodoka suggested.
Soun sunk his head to the table and balled, "So much loss in the family! I can't bear it!"
"It's okay, Dad," Kasumi placed an arm around his shoulder.
Nodoka changed tacts, "Truthfully, Ranma isn't doing much better. He's totally buried himself in the art."
"What else do you suggest he do, Nodoka? He's handling it just as he should." Genma chimed in.
"He could spend a little more time helping Akane grieve."
"Akane isn't reaching out to Ranma either," Kasumi added fairly.
"Akane and Ranma will heal. That's the way life works. The real issue is when they will produce another heir to the school."
Nodoka frowned heavily, "You've had too much to drink, Genma. You aren't thinking before you speak." Her words came thickly, more of a warning than a reprimand.
Genma's face reddened, "At least we can be thankful it wasn't a son."
Kasumi gasped, Nodoka used her thumb to lift the hilt of the sword that was always at her side, and Soun stopped whimpering. He lifted his head and looked into the eyes of his old friend. His back straightened and he had the old self-possessing look in his eyes he wore before his wife's death left him a husk of his former self.
"Enough, Saotome! My Kimiko delivered me three daughters that were more valuable to me than any son could have been. You forget Akane, my daughter, was the heir to the school and if it weren't for her you and Ranma would still be wandering around China. When she graduates college, she will teach as many classes as Ranma and will manage the dojo as well. If you want to enter this household again, then you will do well to remember that."
Genma sputtered under Nodoka's death glare and Soun's words, "Forgive me. I did not mean that. Like Nodoka said, I've had too much to drink."
The room was silent then and everyone blinked at the passing moment.
Nodoka smiled apologetically and continued, "So how do we help Ranma and Akane?"
"I've tried everything I know to do," Kasumi confessed. "I don't know what to do next."
Soun grimaced and looked Nodoka in the eye, "We can't do anything. We can offer an ear to listen and sympathy whenever they need it, but they have to learn how to heal themselves. None of us know what it's like to lose a child, especially a child like Rori. She was a special one."
"That's all we can do, Dad?"
With a confidence he seldom possessed Soun answered, "That's all we can do."
o o o o o o o o o o o o o o o
Ranma sat on their old couch with his head in his hands. That conversation werethe most real words he had with Akane in some time. Sure, they had wooden conversations about the classes at the dojo, the bills, how Akane's classes were going, but none of it was real.
Now things were just so bad. He knew Akane struggled to keep it together but there was so little he could do. It seemed he had enough trouble staying asleep before the nightmares came. Those wretched dreams in which for a second he thought Rori was alive and healthy only to have to see her close her eyes and never reopen them. Then the throat constricting guilt would come. Each night he could feel it press on his sternum, crushing his muscles and ribs until breathing was impossible.
He should have been able to do something. Once he had saved Akane from the verge of death with his own hands when the odds were less stacked in his favor, but he could not save Rori even when there was no monster, kidnapper, or martial arts rival threatening her. For the first time ever he cursed his complete focus on the martial arts and wished he had spent more time honing his brain so he could give the doctors information or advice that could have saved her life. He knew it was ridiculous and that there was nothing he could have done, but the nagging guilt clung to him like the smell of ash.
Somewhere from the depths of the guilt and cocoon of emotion he knew things were going terribly wrong between him and Akane. A small part of him wanted to reach out to her but he had no energy anymore and talking to her, really opening up and talking to her, took more effort than he could muster. Honestly, he was not sure if she wanted to speak to him. Today's blow up was a likely testament to that. Still, things had not always been like this.
Akane at the door of the Tendo-Saotome dojo and looked near tears. Ranma had not spotted her yet, too caught up in his daily exercises. She smiled lightly, forgetting about the news she needed to tell him. She loved it when he was so intense, so singularly focused on his present task. That intensity only shifted between the martial arts and in the last few months in their more private moments she had discovered that intensity was for her as well.
"Ranma?"
Ranma stopped in mid kick and turned to grin at her, "Hey, Akane. What's up?"
Akane stepped into the dojo and looked into his eyes. She opened her mouth to speak but instead took a big gulp of air and swallowed. She clenched her fists and looked down at the floor.
"Is everything okay?"
She looked back up as her breath hitched in her throat. The news was burning in her brain and she wondered briefly if it were possible for all her synapses to fire at once.
"Hey," Ranma coaxed, rubbing his hands along her arms, "what's going on? You're not hurt are you?"
Akane shook her head, "No. Nothing like that, but there's something I need to tell you. Something big."
"Well what is it?"
"Promise me that no matter what things will be okay."
"What?" A jolt of uncertainty trickled through his veins.
"Promise."
"What in the hell are you talking about?"
Akane stepped back, set a firm face, and extended her hand, "Promise, Ranma." When he narrowed his eyes at her, she grabbed his hand and made him shake hands to seal the one sided pact.
"Fine."
"I'm pregnant," Akane blurted.
"Huh?"
"Pregnant."
Ranma stared at a corner of the dojo, right over Akane's shoulder. He appeared stunned and Akane shook him a bit before looking over her shoulder to see what he could possibly be staring at.
"Ranma?" This was not the reaction she had hoped for.
Ranma sunk to the floor, rather clumsily, and sat there for a moment before muttering, "How?"
Akane frowned and rolled her eyes. Of all the questions to ask! "Well, if the doctor was right about the conception date then it was probably the night the family went out to eat and we decided to stay here and practice at the dojo. I was trying to work on my speed and you came behind me and started kissing my neck. Then you nibbled my ear and put your hand . . ."
"That's not what I meant," Ranma cried, embarrassed and blushing furiously while interrupting Akane's tirade. "It's just that we've only been married for five months."
Akane sighed and sat on the floor with Ranma, "I'm not even two months pregnant yet, but we've been . . .", she paused, uncomfortably, "well you know, a lot lately and we haven't exactly kept track of things."
Ranma frowned deeply and wondered why it was difficult to talk about these things even after things were going so well in the bedroom. Sure, at first things had been awkward and a lot of blushing, embarrassment, and humiliation followed the earliest attempts, but both had been surprised at how quickly they took to making love. Akane told him she thought there was something beautiful in their ability to learn and make mistakestogether and now, there was a union between the two that made their love life more than a physically satisfying act. Making love was something that connected and sustained them even if they could not bring themselves to talk about it.
"I know, but. . ." he trailed off.
"But what? No matter what you think about this or whether we're ready or not I'm pregnant. I can't change that."
"I don't know what to say and anything I do say is just gonna make you mad."
Akane rose from the ground and turned away from him sharply, "This wasn't how I imagined this." She took angry strides to the door.
Ranma followed her and blocked the doorway, "I just need some time to think."
"Think all you want!" Akane tried to move past him but his he held out a hand that made her pause.
"We need to talk."
"Talk about what? I'm pregnant, Ranma! We can talk till we're blue, but that's not going to change anything! I'm pregnant and you're upset about it."
"I'm not upset," he ground out.
"Then what do you call it?"
"I don't know."
Akane sighed and dropped her head, "This baby is going to come. I know it's going to delay some of our plans, but I'm going to finish college and you'll keep teaching at the dojo. We're just going to have to change some things." Akane took his hand and pressed it tightly to her stomach. "This is our baby, yours and mine. And it's going to be hard but I'm going to make it work. Maybe you'll be happy about it later." She released his hand and walked out of the door of the dojo.
Ranma watched her walk out the door and stood as though he had roots in the wooden dojo floor. That second, the one where his hand pressed into Akane's flat but soft stomach, he realized that something was growing inside her. Something that would be part of him and Akane that was developing and would have its own signature heartbeat. He would have a son or daughter.
"Akane," Ranma yelled, running out the dojo door and scanning the street to find her.
He recognized her white summer dress; he loved her in that dress, and assumed she wore it for the occasion. She was crying by now he was certain and probably in no mood to speak to him.
"Akane!" He grabbed her arm from behind and hugged her to him. "I'm sorry. It's just happening so fast, but we'll figure it out."
She had been crying; there were tear stains all over her face. She pushed him away and tilted her chin defiantly.
"You're not just saying that are you?" She tried to remain angry, but that was difficult when he was using his thumb to wipe away the wetness on her cheeks.
"No. I just needed a few seconds to realize what this all meant."
"And what does it mean exactly?" she chided, still doubtful.
"We're starting a family. Sooner than we thought, but it's going to work out."
She smiled, "That's what I was trying to tell you."
He put his arm around her shoulders and steered her back towards the dojo, "Is it a boy or girl?"
"To early to tell, but the doctor did tell me that I could count on morning sickness, cravings, and mood swings that you'll have to deal with," she teased.
"Great," Ranma deadpanned, "something to look forward to."
And the next seven months were spent planning and constructing dreams for their child. He loved when the talked late at night, over old take-out food, and laughed while preparing for Rori. He did not even realized how many dreams he built in his mind until Rori died, making all those dreams little more than castles in the air. With his daughter and his dreams of teaching her the basics of the art with more love and caring than his father could manage gone, there was an emptiness that kept growing.
He would have sworn she would survive. Akane had only been twenty-seven weeks pregnant, but many babies born that early survived. For a while he and Akane thought they would be able to take her home, but the pneumonia came on a few days later and slowly took her away from them.
Nowadays, without Rori to connect them there was nothing. They slept side by side but could not touch one another even to intertwine fingers underneath the blanket. He knew sometimes both he and Akane would find ways to avoid one another; working out long hours at the dojo, studying through dinner, and on and on. He knew his marriage lost its rhythm, its symmetry, but for this second there was nothing to be done and no way to fix the expanding emptiness.
Nothing.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
It's been forever since I've updated and I hate taking eons to do so, but I'm busy with work and grad school. I'm trying to take my time and write a good story, but this takes some research and a lot of patience. I promise I will finish the story, hopefully with as few grammatical errors as possible, but updates may be slow. I assure you there's a method to my madness and that I know exactly where the story is going but I won't update until I make sure the readers are not reading absolute drivel. I hope this story is worth the space it's taking up and that people enjoy it. I know it's not the usual Ranma ½ fic, but this story keeps demanding to be told. So enjoy and please review if you feel moved. I hate begging for reviews but I do love and adore them so.