The woman standing several meters away from her had her face was turned slightly as she spoke to someone by her side, but that slender built was unmistakably Kasumi's. And when her face lit up in that gentle kind smile, and wisps of shiny chestnut hair fell into her eyes as she laughed quietly, Akane knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that that woman was the Kasumi who had held her and comforted her all through their childhood.
She only had time to hear the sharp intake of her own breath, before the crowds swarmed in and swallowed her sister whole.
Sweet Kasumi was gone.
Kismet
A Ranma ½ Alternate Universe
By Andrina
Chapter 7
"Accept the things to which fate binds you, and love the people with whom fate brings you together, but do so with all your heart."
- Marcus Aurelius (AD121 – 180)
Akane ran.
"Excuse me," she muttered to her companions without thinking, and then she was gone, slipping her way through the crowds with ease. Her steps were quick and frantic, her fists clenched tightly as she hurried towards the spot where Kasumi had been. People eyed her with brief interest before hurrying to move out of the way. After all, no one really wanted to get ploughed over by the clearly upset young woman who was trying so hard to get past. So Akane was left free to dart under arms and between bodies, mumbling half-formed apologies as she struggled past the hordes of people in her way.
Yet, by the time Akane burst out of the crowds to the spot where she had seen Kasumi, her sister was nowhere to be found.
Akane's heart plunged sharply inside her as she took in her surroundings. Never one to give up, she stood in the crowds, swinging a furious desperate gaze around her. People parted around her, staring at her strangely and grunting in annoyance as they passed. Yet, Akane ignored their looks, focusing only on the thought of her older sister. Where are you, Kasumi, where are you, she thought, and hated the way people kept getting into her way and obstructing her view.
She whirled around, searching the crowd behind her. Still no Kasumi. Akane was getting desperate.
Out of the blue, a hand clapped down hard on her shoulder. Instinctively she spun around, only to be greeted with the irritated scowl of Ranma. "Idiot!" the young man snapped sharply, tugging in annoyance on his braid. He jabbed her lightly on the arm, seemingly oblivious to her upset. "Where did you think you were going?" he demanded angrily. "You didn't even say anything to Ukyo and I! If you got lost, how the hell did you think we were supposed to find you?"
Before Akane even had a chance to respond, Ukyo came running up to join them, breathing slightly harder from the exertion. She skidded to a stop before the two of them, ready to join in Ranma's scolding. Unlike Ranma, however, the brunette seemed to be more attuned to Akane's anxiety, because her mouth snapped shut and her face immediately grew concerned. She stepped forward at once, gently prying Ranma's hand from Akane's shoulder. "Akane?" she began, searching the other girl's face carefully. "Akane, hon, did something happen?"
In spite of herself, Akane could only nod. She blinked furiously as she craned her neck to look over Ranma's shoulder, as though Kasumi would appear again out of sheer will. But Kasumi did not appear, no matter how hard she wished it, and the heavy feeling that was now rapidly descending upon her threatened to take her breath away as soon as she drew it in. An awkward silence fell over them as they waited for Akane to reply. It took her another moment to compose herself and speak, and even when she did, it was in soft unsure tones.
"I saw my sister," Akane mumbled at last.
Immediately after she had spoken, however, she cursed how stupid she sounded. What was more, she sounded so afraid, so unsteady. Like she was crazy and stupid and having delusions or something like that. And, as she watched the looks of exasperation (in Ranma's case) and sympathy (in Ukyo's case) that came over her companions, she knew that it was exactly what they were thinking.
They didn't believe her. They didn't believe her one bit.
"Akane," said Ukyo kindly, and Akane felt the beginnings of a frustrated frown forming on her face. "When we get to the inn, I think we all better get some rest-"
"I didn't imagine it," she interrupted fiercely then, and shook off the gentle grip that Ukyo had placed on her hand. "Look, Ukyo, I saw Kasumi, and I didn't imagine things."
"Well, that's all very good," Ukyo replied. Was that a touch of impatience that Akane thought she had heard in the other woman's voice? "But you're tired, Akane. You need some rest. Heck, we all need some rest and sleep. So stop this, okay, honey? And let's just go to the inn right now."
Akane took an unconscious step back, away from her companions. "Just five minutes," she insisted quickly. "I… Just give me some time to look around, okay? I swear, I wasn't imagining things and besides-"
Abruptly, Ranma grabbed her wrist.
Stunned, Akane shut up, instinctively pulling away from him. Yet he held on firmly to her wrist, countering with a gentle but strong pull towards him. She opened her mouth to protest, but he beat her to it. "Your sister's most likely dead, Akane," Ranma said quietly. Painfully, Akane noted that there was no trace of derisiveness. In fact, there was nothing in his voice but quiet calm neutrality. "And even if she were not, she definitely isn't here right now."
Akane fell silent.
She stayed that way for a long while. In fact, she stayed silent even when they began to steer her gently towards the inn they were to stay at for the night. It wasn't until they were halfway to the inn that it vaguely registered that Ranma had kept his light grip on her wrist, and now he was tightening it in a way that seemed almost comforting. It took Akane another few seconds to realize that he was doing it because she was trembling ever so slightly, and that her breaths were coming in shorter and harder than before. She was shaking, shaking harder and harder, and she could tell that her companions were worried.
The worst thing was that no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't seem to stop.
They checked into the inn soon after.
Akane couldn't really remember the details of what happened, but later, when she was feeling more lucid and calm, she guessed that Ranma and Ukyo must have led her up to their room. In particular, Ukyo must have gotten her ready for bed. She could vaguely call up the memory of Ukyo leaning over her, pulling up the covers on the bed Akane found herself lying on and tucking her in gently. "Get some rest, Akane," the other woman had breathed, and Akane heard the note of worry and concern in her voice. It spoke of understanding and kindness, and yet Akane couldn't help but feel annoyance and obstinacy welling up within her. "It'll be better in the morning," Ukyo had promised at last, and had uncharacteristically tucked a lock of Akane's shorn hair behind her ear with surprising tenderness. The oil lamps were extinguished swiftly, and then Akane was left lying in the darkness, listening to the sounds of breathing of her companions.
They didn't have that much money to spare. Or rather, they had to be thrifty, so they were all sharing a room for the night. Ranma had let the two young women take the beds. "I'll take the floor," Akane distantly remembered him saying, and Ukyo had tossed him some covers to make himself a thin bedding. Now, in the semi-darkness of the room, she let her eyes close even though sleep refused to come for her.
Think, Akane, she thought. Think.
But like sleep, thoughts didn't seem to quite come either. She was just stuck there, reliving that precious split second that she spotted her sister with increasing anguish. The adrenaline of the past few days had dulled the grief she had felt so keenly at the start; yet, in one single moment, the emotions she thought she'd cried out already came flooding right back. Who was she kidding; she thought again, this time with more vehemence at herself. Those were Kasumi and Nabiki, her damned sisters! How could she even begin to entertain the thought that she was getting over the disappearance of her sisters so quickly?
Damn, she thought and turned onto her side. Her fingers curled tightly around the edge of her covers. Against her will, she could feel searing wetness gather behind her closed eyelids. Damn, damn, damn.
Blinking rapidly, Akane pushed herself up, running nervous fingers through her short hair. She was beginning to develop a bad habit, she noted dryly. When she had been young, she used to react to anxiety by twisting her long hair between her fingers. Now that long hair was no longer quite an option, she had taken to running her fingers roughly through what remained. This is crazy, she breathed silently. Get a grip of yourself, you stupid girl. They're going to think that you're some kind of nutcase.
"Can't sleep, can you," came Ranma's voice suddenly, and it was soft so as not to wake the already dozing Ukyo. She started, turning blindly in the direction of his voice. In the dark, she could make out the faint outline of the pigtailed young man as he sat up. With a soft sigh, Ranma was up on his feet, beckoning to her as he headed towards the door. For a moment, Akane stared at him in bemusement. She was about to ask him what on earth did he think he was doing, when it finally registered that he had a finger on his lips and he was signaling for her not to wake Ukyo. He crossed over to the door (and she found herself admiring the way he didn't seem to make a sound with his footsteps) and deftly unlocked it, before taking a step out into the corridor of the inn.
Akane blinked. For a moment, her inner turmoil was pushed to the side, distracted by Ranma's strange request. He wanted her to follow. Then: did he really think she was going to leave the warmth of her bed to follow a sleep-disheveled, half-dressed -he was only wearing an undershirt with his pants, after all! – young man out, in the dead of the night?
"Hurry up," he mouthed impatiently. And as an afterthought, he added, "Get something to wrap round yourself; it's kind of cold out here."
She hesitated for a moment. Ah, what the heck. With a shrug, she swung her legs carelessly over the edge of the bed. Might as well, Akane thought glumly. It wasn't as though she was going to get any sleep for a while. Crossing the room, she grabbed the cloak she had recently purchased, before pausing to pick up the shirt Ranma had slung carelessly over the back of a chair. "Here," she said distractedly as she tossed it to him in the corridor, before proceeding to wrap her cloak tightly around herself. "Where are we going?"
"To train," he told her then, and Akane found herself worried at the relish he had replied her with.
Ranma was right. It was very cold out here at night. Discreetly, because she didn't want Ranma to think that she was a wuss, Akane pulled the cloak tightly around herself, trying to shield her bare legs from the winds. Still keeping her face straight, she followed Ranma out of the inn and a little distance away from the main roads, until they came to a stop next to a tall tree.
"So," said Ranma, sounding absolutely pleased and nonchalant. "I was going to get Ukyo to start teaching you in the morning, but since you aren't asleep right now, there's no use in wasting any more time." And then, being the crazy idiot that he was, Ranma grabbed her by the waist, slapped a palm rudely over her mouth to cut off the startled shriek that was already emerging from her throat, and bloody leapt up into the tree next to them.
For a moment, Akane thought she had forgotten how to breathe. Then, the shock ebbed away slightly, and reason returned, and without thinking, she slammed a fist onto Ranma's head. "Are you mad?" she snapped viciously, even as the boy who was holding her tried to shift to a more comfortable position on the branch they had landed in. He ignored her, testing the branch with one of his feet. It was one of the larger, steadier ones in the tree, and for Ranma's sake, Akane hoped it was safe, otherwise someone was going to get hurt, and it wasn't going to be her.
When Ranma was finally satisfied, he set her down unceremoniously on the branch, before taking a seat on another branch. "Do ya always have to be so noisy?" he answered crossly at last.
Akane bristled. "What the hell are we doing up here anyway?" she shot out accusingly. A few weeks ago, the word 'hell' wouldn't even have existed in her vocabulary. "I know you like sleeping in trees, but I sure as hell don't!"
"Like I was saying," said Ranma, quite obviously irritated. He made a great show of massaging his fingers into the bridge of his nose, and in response, Akane scowled even more heavily. "If you could keep quiet long enough, then maybe I could teach you something."
That caught her interest. "Teach me something?"
She could feel him eyeing her in the dark, as though he was trying to gauge if she would be good enough to learn it. Then, finally, he gave a little sigh. "Meditation," he explained. "Thought it might calm you down or something."
Akane gave Ranma a funny look.
He seemed to have caught it, because he shrugged defensively. "Every new recruit who comes right in gets trained with self-defense. I mean, we haven't had violent clashes yet, and we use swords and spears if we really need to." He paused, for effect. "But ya can't tell when you might be stuck without a weapon, so we make every newbie learn the Art anyway. And meditation's important in learning the Art."
"Ranma," said Akane, after a long moment of silence. "I already know how to meditate. I'm a Maiden, remember? I meditate everyday."
"Great," Ranma answered shortly. "You look like you could use some meditation at this moment. And now you can learn to do it in a tree."
She was unable to hold back her snort of disbelief.
At this, Ranma could not keep the little grin off his face. "Works wonders for balance," he told her breezily. "Stops you from running away too. Since you're new at this, you can lean against the trunk."
"You're insane," she muttered, but in spite of herself, there was something within her that appreciated his underlying good intentions. With a sigh, she inched closer to the trunk, reaching out for its rough sturdy support.
Akane, as Ranma discovered, certainly wasn't one of his easier students. She twitched. She twisted. She sighed and wiggled. She made uncomfortable little noises and kept scratching discreetly where the bark poked her, and when she thought he wasn't looking, she would glance around at the night sky. Occasionally she would stare out in the direction of the market square. Watery moonlight filtered through the leaves of the large ancient tree, and in the dark, Ranma could make out the blank, somewhat sad expression that told him plainly that she was still thinking about what had happened earlier.
Her disinterest was palpable. In fact, even Ranma was having problems concentrating. "Focus!" he barked finally, feeling rather irritated. She snapped out of her daze at once. "Can't you sit still for two seconds? And stop poking at the tree; you're supposed to connect with your surroundings spiritually, not physically!"
To his surprise, Akane stilled as best as she could. "Sorry," she said meekly, though not without a touch of sullenness in her voice. "But the bark's itchy."
Ranma sighed yet again, and mentally wondered if he had done the right thing after all.
But Akane continued to surprise him. He had expected this new unexpected burst of stillness to last no more than a few minutes or so, but after ten minutes, she was still sitting quietly a little distance away. He was almost about ready to relax and focus on his own meditation, but he pulled himself out of it long enough to crack open an eye at her.
She was just sitting there, leaning heavily against the bark. Her eyes were wide open, and it was clear as hell that she wasn't doing anything remotely near meditation. Rather, she had a kind of pensive look on her face. Not the dazed blank one she had been wearing a while ago. This one was sharper, more lucid. And, Ranma thought to himself, maybe she wasn't meditating, but at least he had achieved his goal. Akane was calm now, and perhaps he would leave the real teaching up to Ukyo after all. He would never say it, but the way Akane had been trembling when they brought her to the inn had scared him. One look at Ukyo's tight drawn face, and Ranma knew that she was every bit as worried too.
"Hey, Akane?"
She was surprised to hear him speak. Wasn't he the one who got all hyped up over keeping silent and meditation? "Yeah?" she answered softly, unwillingly to shatter the silence that had just settled over them both.
He didn't reply for a while. Then, very quietly, very pensively: "I used to live with my parents in the east of Nerima. When I was eight, soldiers came and raided the village. They took a whole bunch of people, including my mom, back to the palace as servants." He paused for a little while, as though he was having difficulty forming his words. "Yeah, well, never saw her again."
"Oh," Akane breathed then, suddenly unsure of what to say. Why was he telling her this? "Your father?" she felt obliged to prod him gently.
Ranma seemed to shrug a little in the dark. "Taught me to fight. He was a martial artist. Took off when I was a little older. Said he was going to get Mom back, but I never saw him again either." He looked into the distance.
Why was he telling her this? He didn't know either.
Akane fidgeted, feeling unhappiness settle over them both. "Oh," she said again, because she didn't really know what else to say.
At this, Ranma seemed to straighten, becoming just that bit taller and fiercer. "Yeah, well, just wanted you to know," he began, although his voice was still quiet. "Sometimes… I, you know, I think I see Mom in a crowd somewhere."
Her breath caught. She didn't say anything for a long moment. Ranma let out an almost inaudible sigh, and began to tug awkwardly at his pigtail. Then, with a softness and calm beyond what she had thought she was capable of, Akane smiled a little at the young man beside her.
"But," she broke the silence a little wistfully. "She's never there, is she?"
He gave a short nod then, and Akane couldn't see his face in the dark. She said nothing else, but breathed a slow sad sigh for her sisters, and reached out with warm fingers to touch Ranma's hand. His fingers jerked a little then, as though surprised. She was about to withdraw in embarrassment when abruptly, they returned, tentatively reaching out to brush warmly against hers. They sat like that, barely touching.
She breathed the night air in deeply; he breathed with her. It was enough.
It was the middle of the night, and Miroku the monk found that he couldn't quite sleep well.
Now, Miroku was a young man who was very sensitive to his surroundings. It was a good trait to have, seeing as he was pretty much a vagabond, and young men who have traveled alone for half their lives should rightfully be alert and aware at all times. Yet, while he had always been a light sleeper, he had never had much difficulty falling asleep before. After some pondering, he concluded that it must be because he was with strangers tonight, and considering that they were the very same strangers who had knocked him out with a humongous boomerang, Miroku thought that it was very well within his right that he should feel a little wary of them.
So he lay in the little abandoned hut with Ryoga and Sango, and tried his best to go to sleep. Ryoga and he had put themselves in one side of the hut, whereas Sango had situated herself as far as possible. She did not seem uncomfortable to be alone in the presence of men: this was obviously one young woman who had no problems taking care of herself.
To his surprise, he heard the sounds of Sango getting up. She was very quiet and stealthy about it; obviously she did not want to wake her companions. So Miroku closed his eyes and breathed deeply, all the while listening to the sounds of Sango rustling around with her makeshift bedding.
Finally, he heard her footsteps, light and purposeful as she stole out of the cottage in the dead of the night.
Where was she going, came Miroku's first thought. Then: Probably to answer the call of nature. And he closed his eyes, and tried to go back to sleep.
But when Sango didn't return five, or ten, or fifteen minutes later, Miroku cracked open his eye and wondered if he should go and look for her. Granted, he didn't know the girl personally, and she did knock him out with her dangerously gigantic boomerang, but Miroku didn't think that a pious morally upright monk like himself ought to stand by and watch while a young woman wandered around in the middle of the night.
So, very quietly, because he did not want to wake the snoring Ryoga just like how Sango did not want to wake them both, Miroku got up from his place near the wall and stole out of the shack.
Outside, the air was chilly and crisp. Good weather to take a wee to, he thought mildly, and picked his way around the overgrown grass. The moon was out that night, and with no trees in the immediate vicinity to block the light, he had no problem at all navigating his way around the little abandoned village.
Other men might be nervous to be stuck out in the wilderness (in an abandoned village filled with gravestones, no less) with two strangers, but Miroku wasn't like other men. As a young boy, he had taken to wandering after his father died, and his master had consented, thinking that it would do the boy good to see a little of the world. So Miroku wandered, and while he did not know if he had seen enough of the world to be considered wisely yet, he did know, however, that he had seen plenty of fresh young maidens in his journeys.
Sango, for example, was a fresh young maiden.
Though, in Miroku's opinion, she was a bit of a strange fresh young maiden. No, wait, maybe maiden wouldn't be such an ideal term to describe her with; she did, after all, haul around a whopping big boomerang like it weighed no more than a leaf.
He had been most pleasantly surprised to learn that she shared no relation with the fanged young man she was traveling with, for he was always delighted to be in the company of a fresh young thing. Oddly, however, Sango didn't seem to flock to him quite as much as most of the other young women Miroku had met during his travels. It puzzled him. He was dressed as a monk, yes, but he was a very charming and dashing young 'monk', with an appreciation for beauty. He thought he might have inherited this particular little trait from his father; the men in Miroku's family had all been 'monks', albeit charming and dashing ones.
At this point in time, it might be worth mentioning that Miroku was not a real monk.
As a country which thrived on trade and business, Nerima as a kingdom was a secular state. There were, however, a significant number of religious institutions in the kingdom, ranging from Buddhist monasteries to Christian churches. Heck, even that place up in the mountains with all those Maidens – that one that got wiped out a little while back.
Now, Miroku's family was not a deeply religious one, although, if Miroku had to align himself somewhere, it would be with the teachings of Buddhism. The men of Miroku's family were all wanderers, moving along from one town to another with their wives and children in tow, often stopping at various monasteries.
And, as Miroku (as well as his grandfather and father) had discovered quite early on, dressing in the holy robes of a Buddhist monk (or any religious figure, for that matter) tended to protect one from unwanted dangers quite well. He never used his robes to cheat others, of course – not that often, anyway – but merely to ease the difficulty of his journeys, or so Miroku liked to maintain.
Needless to say, as evident from his great genetic inheritance – just look at his gleaming black hair pulled boyishly into a short ponytail! His striking violet eyes! His well-toned but unfortunately well-hidden physique! – the men of Miroku's family had always made extremely attractive 'monks', in Miroku's humble opinion. Women tended to flock to the men from Miroku's family, himself included.
Sango, as mentioned, didn't respond so well. Miroku thought it was charming. In any case, Miroku would have to mention to her that he thought she had the loveliest derrière he had the pleasure of laying his eyes on…
Ah, speaking of which, there was the object of his thoughts…
He was halfway to her when he paused, changing his mind about calling out to get her attention. Sango, as he could see, was standing in front of three graves.
Perhaps, Miroku thought, this was not to the best time to interrupt the silent young woman.
He stopped in his tracks noiselessly, watching as she folded her hands neatly in her lap. For a long moment, she did nothing but stare at the graves; then something in her posture shifted, and she began to speak.
He couldn't hear a word of what she was saying; he did not have superhuman hearing after all. But, under the soft sheet of moonlight, he watched as her shoulders slowly relaxed and her hands played unconsciously with the hem of her top. She talked and she talked, and he did nothing but watch. He supposed that it was somewhat voyeuristic of him to do so. After all, this was clearly a very private moment between Sango and what was left of her family. But he couldn't stop watching. He wasn't even sure if he wanted to stop.
By the time she was done, he was already stealing back to the hut where Ryoga was. When she reentered the little hut, she heard nothing but slow calm breathing from her companions, and thought that nothing was amiss.
Morning arrived without warning, in the form of sudden sunlight that fell across Akane and struck her in the eyes quite painfully. Startled from sleep, Akane grumbled violently at the intrusive brightness before shoving her face deeper into the covers to no avail.
"Good morning, sunshine!" Ukyo all but yelled out, unbelievably chirpy after a good night's sleep. With a deft hand, she gathered the curtains of the small window beside Akane's bed and drew them aside even more. Ignoring Akane's attempts to curl into a protective ball against the sunlight, Ukyo reached down to ruffle her hair affectionately. "Rise and shine! It's a beautiful morning! Did you have a good night's rest?" she continued cheerfully, now reaching out to deftly tug the covers off the barely-conscious young woman.
Akane groaned, forced to acknowledge the monstrosity that was the sun. With a sigh, she pushed herself up at last, running her hands through her short messy hair. "Where are we going?" she asked finally.
"Out!" Ukyo answered brightly. Briskly, she shooed Akane off the bed and proceeded to make the bed with a practiced touch. "Off with you to the washing area! Hurry up, we don't have all day, you know!"
"What…" she stumbled in her haste towards the door. Where were her shoes? "What are we doing?"
"Training!" Ukyo declared enthusiastically. Again, Akane had to bite back a shudder at the relish that colored her voice at the word 'training'. In moments, she was out of the door to their small room, being hustled by Ukyo down the corridor. Several other inn guests were up and about already, hurrying past her in the corridor – Isha was a town of trade, and the work day started bright and early for most of its inhabitants. Though they were strangers, Ukyo nonetheless gave them a friendly grin in greeting as they passed.
"Where's Ranma?" Akane asked at last, recalling that he had not been in the room when she had been awoken by Ukyo. She struggled to keep up with Ukyo's brisk pace as they strode down the corridor.
"Oh, Ran-chan?" Ukyo answered distractedly as she maneuvered Akane down into the common washing area of the inn. "He's gone out on an errand, said he had some people to meet. He said" – and here Ukyo paused to sweep Akane with a concerned careful gaze – "He said that you were feeling better this morning, so he wants me to start you on your training."
"Oh," said Akane as they moved deeper into the cleaning area. She rolled up her sleeves, eager to clean her face with fresh cold water. Ukyo's expression, while kind and warm, remained politely inquiring. Somehow, Akane knew that what had transpired between her and Ranma would remain exactly what it was: private and honest under the cover of darkness. Shaking her head slightly to clear her head of her thoughts, she managed a weak grin at Ukyo. "So that means…?"
"Meditation first," replied Ukyo confidently, deciding to put aside the matter for now. She stuck a hand on her hip and beamed at Akane. "In fact, we're going to meditate every day from now on."
"Meditation," Akane repeated, unsure of how she ought to approach her training. "Great," she finished slowly. Just because she had done meditation everyday as a Maiden did not mean she necessarily reveled in it. Although, she had to admit that the brief respite and peace that meditation brought along was something she found herself missing recently.
If Ukyo heard her hesitation, she showed no sign of it. "Glad you think so too," the brunette returned cheerfully. "Now wash up quick!"
She cleaned up quickly and returned to their room to grab her cloak before following Ukyo down the inn. Stopping at the common dining area, Ukyo picked up a few fruits and tossed one towards Akane. "Have a plum," she offered. "It's going to be a long day ahead."
They spent the morning meditating. Or rather, Akane spent the morning meditating out in the forest, while Ukyo excused herself after an hour or so to check out the area. "I'm planning your training," she had told Akane, and there was an unmistakable note of satisfaction in her voice. "I need to look for suitable areas for us to train, away from the town."
So Akane had agreed. Waking up in the morning, she had felt a newfound but delicate sense of peace settle over her. Perhaps meditation alone would be good for her, she decided as she found a comfortable spot beneath the shade of a tree. Settling against the truth, Akane closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing. For once, meditation came to her easily, and she found herself reaching out to her surroundings and reveling in the thrum of life in the forest around her.
Minutes became hours. By the time Ukyo finally returned for her, Akane was feeling considerably settled after the emotional turmoil of the previous night. "Hi," she greeted her friend as she approached. The sun was already high overhead, Akane realized. "Found any good places?"
Ukyo nodded, dropping down beside Akane where she sat. Pulling out a pouch, she passed it over to Akane, who opened it curiously to find it filled with wild berries, still wet from being washed in some stream. "Here," Ukyo pointed, popping a few into her mouth. "In case you're feeling hungry."
She ate a few to satisfy Ukyo. Truth be told, however, Akane wasn't feeling very hungry. After all, she had barely had any physical exertion all morning. "So," she began, as Ukyo reached over to grab another handful of berries. "What are we doing today?"
Ukyo smiled mysteriously. "You'll see," she replied vaguely, before taking to her feet and leading Akane deeper into the forest.
Some hours after dawn had broken, Sango awoke. For a moment, she blinked up in confusion. Something must have woken her and yet, she sensed no immediate danger from her surroundings.
"Ah," chuckled someone softly. "I see that I could not escape your sharp hearing."
The monk. She swung her gaze to him slowly. He stood at the doorway of the small hut they were in, his hand resting lightly against the open door. His violet eyes crinkled in amusement as she met his gaze boldly, and he inclined his head towards her in greeting. As Sango sat up from where she lay, she noticed an unfamiliar cloak draped across her form. She glanced back at the monk questioningly. "I noticed that you seemed cold," the monk explained simply, noting her look of curiosity.
She arched a brow at his answer. "Thank you, but it was unnecessary," she said at last. In the early morning, her voice was husky from sleep, but her tone bore every bit of formality. Miroku shrugged; she truly was an interesting girl, this Sango.
"It is a parting gift, my dear Sango," he murmured quietly, careful not to wake the still-dozing Ryoga. He turned to go, lifting a hand in farewell. Enough was enough, after all. He had a long journey ahead of him that day, and it would be good to be on his way before the sun truly made its presence felt.
"You're leaving?" The moment the words left her mouth, Sango grimaced inwardly. Well obviously he'd be leaving. He had no reason to stay with them, particularly after she had knocked him out quite unceremoniously with her boomerang.
Miroku turned then, fixing her with a serious look. For some reason, it felt as though he knew something she didn't, as though he had seen something within her. Sango glanced away awkwardly, not liking the discomfiting feeling. It made her feel oddly vulnerable. After a moment, she heard footsteps moving towards her. When he spoke again, he was much closer than she had expected. She looked up in surprise.
"Perhaps, Sango," Miroku murmured. She found her breath catching somewhere in her chest as she stared up at him, caught by his gaze. "We will meet again someday, and you can return me my cloak then."
He smiled at her then, and Sango found herself watching in confusion as the strange monk walked away from them.
They had been living in the town of Isha for almost two weeks now. "We're lying low for now," Ukyo had told Akane. When she asked about the location of the other rebels, Ukyo had waved a hand vaguely at her. "They are all over the Kingdom," she had said lowly. "They've been in contact with Ran-chan, so everything should be all right. When the time is right, we will regroup." It was, of course, a barely satisfactory answer for Akane. How on earth did they keep in contact with Ranma anyway? Surely it was too dangerous to send messengers when the Imperial Army had to be on the lookout? Where would they regroup? There were so many questions she wanted to ask, but Ukyo and Ranma never seemed to give her the answers she wanted.
Fortunately, it was difficult for Akane to even find time to worry about such questions. Ranma and Ukyo weren't kidding when they said that they would be training her hard; Akane found herself kept constantly busy throughout the day. After two weeks, life was beginning to take on a certain sense of predictability. On hindsight, maybe it was a good thing after all: the growing familiarity brought reassurance and comfort, providing her with a welcome break from the excitement of recent days that had entered her life. All that training worked as an outlet for Akane to release all her worries and stress, and it was little wonder that she began to experience a gradual lightening of mood as time passed.
Every morning, Akane would wake up around eight (and if she didn't, Ukyo would always be around to tip her out of bed with casual cheeriness). Breakfast was usually a quick and light affair, and then Ukyo would lead her into the woods. Mornings were then divided between meditation exercises – Akane grudgingly admitted that even meditation did have its attractions sometimes – and scouring the woods for useful plants and herbs. Ranma might scoff at Maidens being plant-lovers, but he underestimated the value of what they did, she often sniffed disdainfully. Perhaps it was out of nostalgia, or of a need to keep herself busy. But, within days, Akane found herself making medicinal pastes and creams with a fervor that surpassed what she had possessed when she'd actually been a Maiden. It wasn't hard; the woods were full of useful plants. She had obtained simple tools like a pestle and mortar easily enough, and before long, she found herself hard at work. Ukyo began to tag along, observing Akane with piqued interest while she pounded away with gusto at the plants she had collected.
"This is quite good you know," Ukyo had commented one day, carefully rubbing some cream into a muscle she had pulled during training. With a cheeky grin, she had tossed the small tub back to Akane, who recapped it absently. "People would actually buy this stuff! Thanks to you, Akane, we can probably cut down on money for first-aid supplies," she had joked then.
"Thanks," Akane had smiled, before a sudden odd glint passed over her eyes.
It did not go unnoticed by her friend. "Akane?" Ukyo had inquired, but Akane simply raised a hand to wave her query away.
"Oh, nothing, just thinking about some stuff," she hummed. Suddenly, however, her lips quirked upwards into a pleased grin. "You're a genius, Ukyo!" she had declared, and before Ukyo could respond, she had set off in the direction of the woods, leaving the brunette to blink questioningly after her.
It took her a few days to stock up on creams and salves, but Akane was ready soon enough. It did not take more than a kind smile and an offer of help to one of the local vegetable sellers to secure herself a makeshift stall in the marketplace. In a busy town like Isha, it wasn't long before word got round about the pretty young woman who sold cheap but high-quality medicinal pastes and creams in a corner of the marketplace every morning. Every marvel at her products was usually accompanied by praise at the warmth and attractiveness of the young woman who sold them ("Such a sweet young thing! So polite! So kind! Isn't she such a lovely rose? How talented of her to make such effective creams!"). And when she expanded her range of products to include beauty creams, the delight of the housewives increased even more, if that were possible. Within a week, Akane had single-handedly won over a good number of womenfolk (and plenty of the men) who visited the marketplace of Isha.
So it began. Every morning, Akane would sit at her makeshift stall and enjoy brisk business. Once afternoon rolled around, however, Akane would have to pack up her makeshift stall, apologetically turn away disappointed adolescent girls hoping for a bargain and make her way back into the cool woods. Sometimes Ukyo would accompany her as she made her way there; other times, her friend would be waiting in the woods for her instead.
Then they would lunge right into an afternoon of intensive training.
Training, in Akane's humble opinion, was possibly the most exhausting and exhilarating thing in the world. They started with easy stuff: Ukyo took her through basic punches and kicks, teaching her simple katas and the right way to block and fall. Then there were the drills and endurance training – things that Akane took to with an enthusiasm and natural flair that surprised even Ukyo.
A fast learner, she dove into her training with a seriousness that impressed her instructor. It helped too, of course, that Akane had been blessed with an athletic disposition and reveled in physical activity; as a Maiden, she had endured many lectures for always tearing wildly around the woods instead of studying the land with dignity. Before long, Ukyo began to push her to her limits daily, challenging to go faster, harder, stronger.
Needless to say, by the time Akane collapsed into bed at the end of each day, sleep always came instantly.
During this entire period, though, Ranma was barely around. He was usually gone by the time she awoke; at the most, he would be on his way out of the room. Their meetings were filled with snide remarks and sharp bantering (no surprise there), but, as Akane had come to notice, some of the bite had disappeared from their conversations. It was as though ever since that evening up in the tree, something had changed. They still argued and called each other names, but something was different now.
Akane found, to her growing chagrin, that Ranma wasn't such a bad guy after all.
"I can smell your morning breath from over here," he had teased one morning.
Akane had rolled her eyes, struggling to hide a yawn. "Your body odor woke me up," she had retorted grumpily. She stretched then, only to wince when her muscles, still sore from the intense workout the previous day, protested painfully.
"Muscle ache?" he took a step towards her then, and despite the gruffness of his voice, she heard the underlying concern and hid her smile.
"Yeah," she had answered, rotating her shoulders carefully. She tried to hide her wince, not wanting to come across as weak, especially in front of macho-man Ranma. "I think I pulled something yesterday." To her surprise, he padded up to her, stepping right into what Akane liked to term her 'personal bubble'. She glanced up at him uncertainly, suddenly aware of the difference in their heights. "Wha-"
"Here?" He cut her off before she could finish speaking. Hs voice was low and deep, his fingers light and clinical as they tapped gently on the offending muscle.
Akane could not name the feeling that welled up strangely in her. Her nod in response was little more than an awkward jerk of her head.
Expertly, Ranma moved his hand down her upper arm, pressing down quickly on three different spots. Immediately the ache lessened, and Akane made a small sound of mixed surprise and delight, rotating her right shoulder freely. "Pressure points?" she hazarded a guess.
Ranma grinned, and absently ran his fingers down the length of her bare arm. She bit her lip instinctively, but he, being the thickheaded moron that he was, was oblivious. "So you do know something other than plants," he commented. "Get Ucchan to take a look at it if the pain comes back."
"Jerk," she muttered. She had managed to recover by then, sticking her tongue out at him.
He blew out a long sigh. "Ungrateful macho chick," he drawled. Turning to go, he gave her a slight wave. "Yeah well, see you later."
"Ranma?"
He half-turned quizzically. "Yeah?"
She was standing by the window then. The sun had come up high enough for light to slant in warmly through the glass, cloaking her in a watery pale sheet of yellow. At his attention, Akane tilted her head slightly (and absurdly, Ranma observed that there were dark blue highlights in her hair that he had never really seen before).
"Thanks," she said at last, letting her lips curve into a shy warm smile.
He said nothing for a moment, before his lips took on a will of their own and quirked up in a boyish grin. "See ya, Akane," he let out breezily, and made his way out of the room.
In the days that passed, however, Ranma's appearances were few and far between. He was always out 'running errands', or so he claimed. And truth be told, Ukyo was keeping Akane so busy with training that she barely had any time to ponder over the missing pigtailed young man.
He made his presence known, nonetheless. Though both girls were usually fast asleep by the time Ranma got back each night, Ranma made it a point to sometimes leave hastily-scribbled notes for them in the morning, updating them on the state of their financial situation. Occasionally, they got news of other rebels. Once every few days, he even turned up for dinner, and (when he could actually tear his mouth away from food long enough, of course) he usually spent such mealtimes asking after Akane's performance during the grueling training sessions.
All in all, Akane felt, life was beginning to regain some of its lost color.
Yet, once in a while, in the strangest and most random of moments, she would pause to wonder what else was to come. After all, surely they weren't just in the town of Isha to train and eat and do small business on the side, right…? When were they going to leave? Where would they go? What was happening right now? Wasn't there supposed to be a rebellion going on? Was this what was meant by 'lying low'?
Akane was not the most patient of people, as those who knew her could easily testify.
Then Ranma showed up one afternoon – a first in the many days they've stayed in the town – and little did Akane know, the answers to her questions would soon be delivered.
Akane was carefully arranging her unsold creams into neat rows when a confident shadow fell across suddenly. Startled, she squinted and glanced up, trying to shield her eyes from the midday sun.
"Yo," greeted Ranma good-naturedly.
She blinked. "You!" she blurted without thinking. "What are you doing here?"
Ranma gave a mocking sigh. "You wound me, tomboy," he jibed lightly, bending down to help her arrange her goods. "I haven't actually seen you in days, and you won't even give me a friendly welcome?"
"Friendly? My ass," Akane muttered under her breath. She pulled her hands back, a little wary at his proximity as he bent over her makeshift stall.
Ranma shot her a queer look, before his lips quirked upwards in a grin that could only be described as cheeky. "I hate to break it to ya, Akane," he pronounced carefully. "But your ass can hardly be described as friendly… big? Yeah, maybe." He touched a hand to his chin thoughtfully. "Maybe even… perky…?" he mused.
Akane had turned flaming red. Ranma was oblivious, as usual.
She twitched then, fingers screwing themselves into angry fists against her will. "Ranma…" she drew out tightly, her brows drawn into a fierce crease.
Before she could say anything else, however, Ranma had straightened, chuckling wildly to himself. "Jeez!" he snorted, reaching down once again to poke her lightly in the middle of her forehead. "You should have seen the look on your face!"
She froze at his words, confusion, embarrassment and anger warring clearly on her face. Anger won, as usual, and Akane leapt to her feet. "What was that for, you immature jerk!" she snapped, her cheeks flushed from the emotion.
"For that stunt you pulled at the river – you pushed me in, remember?" he said triumphantly. "You tricked me, and then you pushed me in!"
She looked incredulous. "Oh, for the love of…!" she gritted out hotly, throwing up her hands. "Are you crazy? That was eons ago! What are you, a petty kid?" Then, as an afterthought: "And I did not trick you! It's not my fault if you're a pigheaded idiot who didn't know how to treat other people nicely!"
"Hey, hey, don't make excuses," Ranma replied indignantly. "You did so trick me! And just so you know, Ranma Saotome might forgive, but he never forgets!"
"You… you…!" Akane was turning an interesting shade of red now, oblivious to the small crowd which had gathered around to stare openly at what had gotten the usually polite and pleasant young woman so worked up. Taking a deep breath, she jabbed an accusing finger at finger. "Forgive, my ass!" she roared, and several mothers in the vicinity winced, hastening to shield the virgin ears of their children. "You egoistical baboon-faced jerk!"
Ranma seemed immune to her outburst, however. "Lighten up, Akane," he answered dismissively, flapping a hand at her face. "I'm not that coarse, ya know." Not usually, anyway. And it was true. Ranma might have grown up in rough crowds, but making lewd comments to women weren't really his cup of tea. His mum had taught him better than that.
His mum had taught him a lot of things, come to think of it.
He grimaced mentally, before forcefully steering himself from that train of thought. Akane was still gaping at him, her eyes sparking in delicious anger. Ranma chuckled, glad to have something to which he could turn his thoughts. She really had no idea how flushed she got when she was angry. It was – dare he say it – almost attractive. Clearing his throat in surprise at the direction of his thoughts lately, Ranma turned away to hide the slight heating of his cheeks. He settled for sticking his hands into his pockets, a picture of nonchalance. "So, Akane, you coming?"
She fumed. "Where to?" she thought to ask at last, seeing as he was walking away from her.
"Lunch, duh." His reply was easy, his manner relaxed. Akane fumed even more.
But he was right – it was time for lunch, and she could feel the first stirrings of hunger. Being angry at Ranma could afford to wait, at least until she had appeased her appetite. With a huff, Akane began to clear her makeshift stall, sweeping the creams into a bag with practiced ease. "Looks like someone's in a good mood today," she drawled out bitingly as she worked, pushing the wooden crates she used as display surfaces towards one of the alleys. Ranma ignored her barb, automatically coming up to help her to move them away.
With Ranma's help, Akane finished packing up in less than half the time she usually took. With a huff, she heaved the bag of unsold goods over her shoulder and started off in the direction of the inn they were staying at. Ranma trailed behind her casually, tucking both hands behind his hand. They had hardly begun on their trek across the marketplace when something occurred to Akane abruptly.
"Ranma," she spoke up sharply then, not bothering to turn around.
"Huh?"
Akane adjusted her grip on her bag. "The state of my ass is none of your business," she informed him smartly. Before he could respond, she had set off at a jaunty pace, ignoring her companion with a huffy toss of her hair.
Ranma had to work to keep his smirk off his face. "Whatever," he answered then, letting his gaze linger absently on the subtle sway of her hips as he followed behind her.
A/N: First of all, HELLO! Yes, I owe you this. It has been more than THREE YEARS since I last updated this story and, wow, time flies. I don't know how many people would still be reading this, but I found a half-written draft on my computer a few days ago and decided to finish it. Hope you enjoyed the read! C&C welcome.
Why did it take three years for this to be updated? Will this be updated on a regular basis from now on?
To be honest, I have no idea. I'd like to think I'll finish it eventually, but I can't make any promises. Yes, I have already planned out how this is supposed to end. (Whether I actually follow the initial plan is another question altogether though, haha). But a lot has happened in the last three years – I've moved across the world alone to attend college (in my first year now, in case you're wondering), for one thing. I've started on a career. I'm involved in volunteer work and societies. And, of course, I have family and relationship commitments to attend to.
Sometimes inspiration strikes – then I write. Usually, though, life is just too busy, and I don't want to compromise on the standard of my writing by rushing updates, so I hope you'd understand. Till then, I hope you'll keep following this story! :)
Edited, 3/5/2014.