She didn't talk to Ranma for the rest of the weekend, and he made no attempt to talk to her, either.

It's not that she doesn't miss him. Or even that she's too mad at him to pay him any mind. She tried to look at him, but she found that she simply can't. She felt his guilty eyes brush past her countless times, and she wanted to give in. Wanted to pretend that none of whatever has been going on between them happened.

But when has she ever been the type of girl to forgive and forget?

She'd woken up earlier than usual this morning. She asked Kasumi to wake him up a little later and headed out, hoping he'd take the hint and leave her alone.

The air, cool and crisp, floats around her. It feels refreshing on her prickly skin, like her thoughts left her overheated from the inside out.

Ranma has been protective over her many times before. Possessive, jealous, arrogant, and territorial in a way that always left her breathless and wondering, is this even real?

But the thing is, nothing ever came of those instances. Nothing… major, at least.

But all those little things… they built up to this, didn't they?

She always felt a spark when it came to Ranma. Yet she couldn't wrap her head around the fact that he felt it, too.

The way he jumped at Ryoga the other night was scary.

It was totally unnecessary and unprovoked.

And that's what's been turning her insides inside out — the possibility that… that he…

That he what?

She can't call it anything. All she knows is that it has her calling for divine intervention. That it's threatening to drag her to him and attach herself to him when her first instinct has been running wild and screeching, run away and don't look back.

How can something feel so ugly yet undeniably… warm?

She's burning up… melting… despite the frigid wind she inhales.

The morning goes on, because time has always been her best friend, the way he runs late on it. He barely makes it to homeroom and she barely watches him from the corner of her eye, ignoring the sting his stare sends into her body. And when he purposefully walks past her desk, the side of his leg brushing her shoulder, it tingles for the rest of the day when she remembers it.

She remembers it every other minute or so.

And during lunch, she can only take a bite of her food because the butterflies filled her stomach to the brim. She fought the temptation to turn his way, especially when his voice rings out above everyone else, his laugh loud and obnoxious — but when he quiets down, the fear keeps her from forgoing the conversation with her friends.

But for the one time she tries to sneak a glance at him, some time near the end of the day, she's cursed. Because he was already looking.

No one has ever looked at her this way. No one.

Like he's dreaming about her when they're both awake and she's right there. Her mouth had gone dry — an ocean of magma pooled slowly in her belly. His thick brows lowered over his darkened eyes. It's only when he twitches slightly that he gives himself away. How exhausted he is.

Did he really regret what he did? Did it keep him

up last night?

The spell had broken with the sound of the bell.

And now she walks slowly down the hall, proving to be a bigger coward than he could ever be. She's avoiding him — she doesn't think she could stand walking home with him. He's doing things to her she can't comprehend. And as the last of the crowd of students files out, she turns the corner and hears her gasp echo.

There he is. Leaning against the wall, arms crossed like he's mad.

She freezes, her brain malfunctioning despite the very strong urge to run, run, run away.

But when did anything ever go her way? One step back and his head snaps in her direction, blinking in surprise before dropping his expression to something that looks dangerously close to disappointment.

Her heart stutters. She wants to run home and lock herself in her room.

She wants to close the distance between them and take a chance.

But unlike herself — or maybe, deep down, this has always been her — she does neither.

He's walking to her before she can even breathe.

"Akane," he rumbles, hands in his pockets.

She gulps, blinking her wide eyes slowly as he stares her down the same way he did not too long ago. She has to dip her head back to look at him. She feels small in a way that he could just… eat her and she can't do anything about it.

She forms his name in her mouth, tries to say it out loud, but it's only air.

"Akane," he says again, towering over her. He bends down a bit, inching his face closer to hers.

"Y-y-yes?" she whispers, just as his lips twist into a frown. "What's wrong?" she says in a rush.

His eyes are all droopy and dazed, all of a sudden! And he's slouching over even more!

"Ranma!" Her stomach turns with worry. Before she can think, she slips her hands onto his face, one cradling his cheek while the other presses against his forehead. "Hey, what's the matter?"

A dopey smile stretches his lips. Her eyes widen even more as he blinks lazily. She runs her thumb across his cheek. "Hey… Ranma, talk to me, please?" she pleads quietly.

He leans into her palm, eyes sliding shut. "'kaaaaa—ne," is all he says before his head lands on her shoulder.

Her hand slides to the side of his neck while the other pushes at his shoulder, trying to get him back upright, but he won't budge! Yet he's moving around on top of her! Her skin prickles with heat — is he… is he…

Nuzzling into her neck?

He hums, and she feels it vibrate all over. A chill goes down her spine — though it's less of a chill and more of too many fireworks going off at once and depriving her of functioning thoughts!

She squeaks as he inhales deeply, his lips brushing against her skin. Oh my freaking god. "Mmm… 'kane…" he sighs, the heat of it singing her. "Smell good, 'kane…"

She's not breathing. Or maybe she's breathing so much that she can't tell the difference between her inhales and exhales because she is actually hyperventilating. Nobody should be this temperature. She's being cooked alive, and apparently she smells good as it's happening?!

She's not losing control — she already lost it.

Because the hand on his neck is pressing down and her fingers are sliding into his hair and keeping him there.

AAAAHHHHHHH!

She's stuttering — what the hell is she even trying to say?!

But then he's saying her name and it… it punctures her heart with swords and it… why does he sound so… sad?

It calms her, humbles her instantly. He needs her, doesn't he?

Poor Ranma… my poor baby. What's the matter?

Gently, she lifts his head, cradling either side of his face. The tips of their noses brush. She looks up at him, her chest swelling as he pouts with sad, sad eyes.

That puppy look again…

The day she resists that look is the day she becomes heartless.

There's a certain calm that arises as they look at each other.

Only to be broken by… quite possibly, the loudest growling she has ever heard in her life.

His face gives it away — he's blushing and she's laughing before she can stop herself, tears coming to her eyes.

"You were just hungry?" she says between gasps, letting him go to clutch at her stomach.

After a beat, he responds with a weak, "...maybe."

She beams up at him, feeling lighter than she has all day. She wraps her fingers around his wrist and tugs it gently. "C'mon. I didn't eat my lunch today," she says as she leads him into the classroom right next to them, leaving the lights off. She guides him to an empty chair towards the back of the room and sits in front of him, taking her bento out of her bag and untying it.

"Did you forget your lunch today?" she asks nicely.

"N-n… I, uh…" he sighs.

"It's okay," she smiles sweetly. "Eat first."

She takes one gyoza and brings it to his lips, holding her hand beneath the chopsticks. He blinks in surprise, hesitating before taking a bite.

"Mmm," he bites into the rest. "'s good."

She takes some rice with vegetables and hums as he meets her halfway. "You think so?"

"Mhm." He swallows and leans forward, his mouth parted as he nods at the gyoza. "More, please."

She rolls her eyes and does as he asked oh so nicely, more than pleased that he enjoys her food so much. She really has improved, hasn't she? It didn't look the most aesthetically pleasing, but still, she put her all into it!

And to have him so blissed out over it, savoring the taste with closed eyes and a smile on his face — she'd feed him for the rest of his life, if that's what he wanted.

Is that really what I want?

Her cheeks zing with the implication. She must be losing her mind…

Or am I?

Warm hands cover her own. She shakes her head and lets them bring her back to reality, which is his handsome face smiling easily at her. "I got it from here. Thanks," he says, gently taking the bento and chopsticks out of her hands.

She crosses her legs and her arms awkwardly, looking down at the floor as she smiles in embarrassment. "It's nothing. I didn't really have an appetite today…"

It takes her a moment to realize he stopped eating. Cautiously, she looks back up, finding him staring down at his food. "Y'know, it's funny, Akane. 'Cause I didn't, either…"

"O-oh." She uncrosses her legs and presses her feet together, swinging them slightly. "How come?"

He shakes his head and chuckles. "...I just can't act like nothing's wrong when you're not even lookin' at me, y'know?" he says after a pause, his words careful and considered, more than she ever expected to hear from him.

He doesn't look at her, and it almost feels like he's confessing all of his sins, the way he looks so embarrassed. She holds a hand to her mouth as if it were the case.

He blinks sleepily. She leans forward. "You still haven't slept either?" When he doesn't answer, she tugs on his hand. "Ranma."

He shakes his head. "Nah," he shoves another mouthful of rice into his mouth, "'aven' been."

Again, he's not taking care of himself! She stands abruptly, planting her fists on her hips. "Are you serious!"

He swallows, nearly choking. "Umm… yeah."

She groans in frustration. Has everything just gone backwards? He can't keep on doing this to himself!

"You better go to sleep tonight!" she exclaims, stomping her foot.

He holds his hands up. "Woah, what's this about?"

She huffs, sitting back down. She shuts her eyes and turns her face away. "Do you think I like seeing you this way?"

He laughs, and she whips around to face him. "What's so funny!?"

He chews on another bite of food obnoxiously. "I mean, it's all your fault, isn't it?"

She clutches her chest. "W-what? How is it my fault?!"

"'Cause," he swallows. "You were being petty and ignoring me."

"And you were being your usual arrogant self!" She growls. "Ugh! I should've left when I saw you!"

"Oh yeah?" He inches closer, leveling his face with hers. "And I shoulda left you and Ryoga alone!"

She stares at him in shock, unable to catch her breath. What's this charge in the air between them? Where whatever they just said feels like a lie?

Did she make him feel… that bad?

"W-what exactly did you think was going to happen, Ranma?" she asks softly.

He turns quickly. "Nothin'. Forget it."

God, why is he always so confusing?!

"Ranma…"

He looks up at her, expression completely neutral. "Yes?"

"I don't want to."

He scoffs. "It's better if you just drop it."

"I just don't understand…"

He stands up. "I don't wanna hear this. Let's go h—"

"Why do you think I'd do anything with someone who isn't you?"

She hears his breath catch. At the words that had clumsily tumbled out of her mouth… what is she even saying anymore? What exactly are they talking about?

More like, what aren't we talking about?

She stares down at her lap for a moment before shaking her head and gathering her things. "You're right. Let's just forget it."

"Akane…"

"C'mon, I wanna get home in time for dinner."

"Hey, what I—"

"Why are you changing your mind now!?" She sighs in frustration, using the silence to button up her jacket.

He stares dumbly at her. "But I—" he cuts himself off with a huff. "Okay. Alright."

"Fine," she mumbles to herself, letting the sea of emotions drag her away from him. Yet he catches up in no time, hanging right by her side the whole way home. The gloomy sky keeps their silence.


What right does she have to deprive him of his appetite? His sleep?!

That's what he's been asking himself — he doesn't know the answer somewhere, deep down. Absolutely not.

Why would he?

And why did she have to go on and be all distant then nervous then so freakin' nice back to being this… overly defensive, sensitive, annoying brute of a girl!

He side-eyes her at the dinner table, his bowl covering half his face.

She just smiles at him.

What was the problem again?

Get a fuckin' hold of yourself, Saotome!

"Ergh," he growls, grinding his teeth together.

A piece of fish lands in his bowl. He looks over at Akane, who nudges his foot with hers. "Clearly, you need to make up for all that time you spent not eating."

He hears his father laugh and make a comment. But what he actually says flies right over his head. Someone else says something — Nabiki? It's right there in his ear. But all he can hear, see, feel, is Akane.

The girl that's been driving him crazy for the past two years of his life. The girl who he drove even crazier right back because he can never resist it. The girl who stayed by his side, anyway.

The girl who always calls him out when he fucks up, who never lets him give up, who fights for him, cares for him, cooks for him, and now she's given him half her dinner out of nowhere just 'cause she knows he's hungry.

He's going to fucking explode.

What the actual fuck is this mushy feeling? Why do I always feel it when I look at her?! I'm sick of this shit!

He shovels the rest of his food into his mouth and drinks his tea with an obnoxiously loud slurp. He slams the dishes down on the table, now silent as all eyes lay on him.

But since her eyes are so damn big, it's like, another three extra pairs, or something. And it's all he really feels as he slaps his chest and burps.

"Ew," Nabiki deadpans.

"Oh, Ranma…" Kasumi clucks her tongue.

"You… are… so…"

He waits for it.

"GROSS!"

Hm. He was expecting a kick, at least.

Is it weird that he kinda misses it?

He stands and bows. "Thank you for the dinner, Kasumi."

"Oh, my…"

And then he marches off, back straight as a ruler as he heads to his room.

And once he does, he crumples to the floor, horrified.

Everything she does… turns me the hell on!

He can barely control himself around her anymore! His guts are still in knots and his blood is rushing down and oh, when she freakin' touched him with her foot—

He opens his mouth in a silent scream, hunching over. When has he ever been this… weak?!

And the worst part is, he can barely keep himself away from her!

"AUGH!" he yells out, something garbled and strangled and purely from pain. "Why?" he mouths. "WHY?"

The door creaks slightly, and in an instant, he's on his feet, completely alert. And then, a light oinking sound…

He feels actual flames burst around him. His eyes meet the too-big eyes of the little boar on the floor, shaking…

The way Ryoga touched his Akane… it flashes back in his mind.

"Leave."

P-Chan growls.

And with the help of his foot, the pig is flying out the window, meeting the stars in the sky.

You can't hide it anymore, a voice in his head says.

"Hmph!" He plops down on the floor, legs crossed. "Watch me."

And what am I hiding from, exactly?

A familiar heat washes through him. Her smile. Her hands on his face, his neck. The way she smelled so fresh and sweet, like laundry and sugar cookies and flower petals and —

The ghost of her touch lingers on his forehead. She was so worried…

How could he act like such an idiot?

"I am officially losing it," he mutters to himself, rubbing his hands over his face. "Ugh… need to calm down…"

"Why do you think I'd do anything with someone who isn't you?"

God, what did she mean by that?

You know what she meant.

Does he?

She looked so disappointed… I just don't know how to use my words right, Akane…

He sighs heavily, forcing himself to his feet. There's one thing that's always there to clear his mind.

He heads straight to the dojo, throwing himself into his routine until he gets lost in it. He meditates on it. Feels the knots untie and the stress melt out of his body.

He drags himself to the bathtub after, practically dead from how hard he pushed himself. He nearly falls asleep in the hot water.

He dries off and dresses into his pajamas and tank top. It's better if he heads to bed early tonight.

But when he's padding down the hallway, he sees a door, opened just a crack. And without thought, he walks to it, peering inside.

She looks up from her books once her door creaks, and he gulps. She rolls her eyes and turns back to them. "Don't bother me right now, I'm studying. We got exams coming up, y'know."

Not like he gives a shit. Something else caught his eye. And it chokes his nerves out, leaves them somewhere to die.

He switches the lights off, wanting to recreate the night before. His palms and fingertips are aching to touch her. She cries out but he only moves forward.

"Turn them back on! Stop being annoying!" she yells, standing from her chair and puffing her chest out, fists on either side. His eyes rake down her exposed skin.

Did she leave her top unbuttoned on purpose? He never thought her pajamas were sexy, but right now… holy shit, he's not even thinking thoughts. Just images flooding his brain, everything he wants to do to her right now…

He bends his neck down, his bangs brushing her forehead. He can see her bra, the part that sits prettily between her breasts, her ivory skin getting splotchy in that delicious way that makes him want to lick it like it's candy. Her breath catches and he'd smirk if it didn't go straight down to his dick.

He licks his lips, so tantalized, vision glazed over like all sweets she tries to make. He wants to eat her. And he doesn't care anymore that it shows.

"R-Ranma…" is all she whispers in the dark before he closes his body in.