The Burning of Their Blood
A Ranma ½ Romance
by
Jeremy Harper
Disclaimer – Ranma ½ is the creation of Rumiko Takahashi and is used without permission.
Chapter 2
A loud cry and the crack of breaking brick roused Ranma from his lethargy. He sat up on his futon and blinked in the gloom, groggy and a little disoriented. The shout and shattering of brick repeated, the noise sweeping the remaining cobwebs of sleep from his mind. He canted his head and listened, heard a third shout and crack, and smirked. He got up and headed outside.
He found Akane behind the dojo, dressed in her off-yellow gi. She squatted on her haunches, knife-edge of her right hand resting on a brick propped between two cinderblocks, her face serious with concentration. She took a deep breath, raised her hand high then drove it down with a shout, breaking the brick in half. She beamed in satisfaction and reached for another brick from a small pile nearby.
"Chee, Akane," said Ranma, startling her. "You're such a tomboy. Didn't you get enough exercise running your friends ragged at volleyball practice today?"
Akane gave him a cool glance. "No. A girl needs to keep busy if she wants to keep in shape." Ranma had to clamp down hard to avoid responding to such a straight line. His effort must had been obvious, for Akane looked at him curiously. "Are you all right?"
Ranma sighed softly. "I'm fine. Just a little sleepy. Your brick-breaking woke me from a nap."
"Sorry," she said, simply yet sincerely. She continued to stare closely at him, and he started to fidget slightly under her regard, scratching the back of his head and looking away. "Are you certain you're fine? You've been out-of-sorts for a while now."
"Feh. I said I'm fine. Just been thinking about a few things, is all."
Akane's face brightened with sly enlightenment. "I understand now. You're stressed from exercising something you've never used before. It's okay, Ranma – thinking will become easier the more you practice it."
Ranma scowled at her. "Very funny." She seemed to agree with him, for she laughed as she stood and dusted off the pants of her gi. Ranma's expression softened, becoming speculative. "You want to spar?"
The offer startled her. "Really?"
Ranma shrugged. "A guy needs his exercise, too. Go into the dojo. I'll join you after I sweep up back here."
Akane looked at him closely again. "Why are you being so nice?"
Ranma flinched at the question, stung and nettled. "Do I need a reason to be nice?" he countered. "But if you're going to get all suspicious, then I got better things to do." He turned on his heel to stalk off, but Akane intercepted him, waving her hands.
"No, don't go. I didn't mean it. I really would like to spar." She sketched him a slight bow and smiled. "Thank you."
Ranma ducked his head, feeling his cheeks grow warm. "It's okay." He watched from beneath his bangs as Akane skipped off into the dojo, his lips pursed. He never noticed before just how tight her gi pants were, how well they fitted her slender hips and taut, rounded rear. He took a breath in an effort to center himself before grabbing the broom leaning against the dojo wall. This was a mistake. He knew it was a mistake yet could find no way to prevent himself from making it. He should not risk touching Akane with the way he was feeling right now – it could only lead to pain and disaster. And yet he wanted to, despite knowing the consequences. He paused in his sweeping, closing his eyes and bowing his head as his blood rushed hot and swift, lighting a fire deep inside of him that burned so exquisitely that he wanted it to consume him completely, leaving him nothing more than sated ash from which he would rise phoenix-like, to be burned down by the pleasure of his desire yet again.
He hissed as he shook off these thoughts, and grimly set about his clean up. He quickly finished sweeping the yard then stowed away the bricks and cinderblocks. After washing his hands he went to join Akane in the dojo.
Akane finished her warm-up kata when Ranma stepped into the dojo, sliding the door shut behind him. He stood still for a moment, head tilted slightly as he gave her a searching, almost wary look. Akane arched an eyebrow quizzically – he had been acting so strangely the past few weeks. She did not know how to interpret this behavior, and of course he was keeping his own council.
Ranma shrugged and flashed her a smile that seemed apologetic then started a kata to loosen himself up. Akane studied him through half-closed eyes, a mixture of feelings stirring within her. A little jealousy – far less than she once felt, but still there. It had waned though, as she came to know him better and understood the price he had paid for such mastery. Admiration for his grace and strength had replaced her envy, and with it came an emotion she did not recognize – or rather, to be more precise, refused to acknowledge. As she watched him flow from form to form a familiar warmth heated her checks and she forced herself to look down at the polished wooden floor as she chided herself. It was stupid to feel such things for Ranma. Perhaps they were friends, despite their quarrels, but he had long ago made his feelings about her looks plain.
She looked up just as he finished his warm-up. He nodded to her and settled into the relaxed stance he favored. "Whenever you're ready, Akane." She nodded back and set herself, fists raised, legs spread, eyes narrowed as she evaluated him. Something looked off about Ranma; it took a few moments for her to realize it was his expression. He looked far more serious than he usually did when he sparred with her. It was almost as if he was preparing himself for a real fight. Akane pursed her lips thoughtfully, but then with a mental shrug pushed aside her doubts and rushed forward.
The first ten seconds followed the usual pattern of their spars, with Ranma evading her strikes with a dancing ease. Akane tamped down her annoyance and redoubled her efforts, launching a combination of punches at his head and chest. He shifted and swayed, barely moving his feet, dodging all save the last blow, which he parried with a wrist block. Akane let out a soft gasp and stepped back, blinking in confusion, for after he pushed aside her fist he slid his palm gently over the back of her hand. Ranma looked at her, a smirk crooking his lips. "What, you done already?" he teased. She frowned and engaged him again, but with more caution than usual, not certain of what he intended. Again he dodged, ducking, weaving, but every ten or twenty seconds he would block a punch and deliberately skim his hand over her fist. Akane found herself growing more flustered with each parry. Her heart beat faster than it should, thrumming a rapid tattoo against her ribs, and her face flushed with a heat that had nothing to do with exertion. Suddenly she yelped, surprised beyond all measure as Ranma threw a punch at her. It was a languid strike for him, deceptively slow and missing her face by an inch. As he drew back his arm he unclenched his fist and let his opened hand gently caress her cheek.
Akane gasped again, louder, and jumped back. She stared wide-eyed at Ranma, her hand covering her cheek, intensely aware of how fast she was now breathing. Her throat felt tight and a powerful warmth churned in her stomach. Ranma stared back at her, his head bowed slightly, his blue eyes gleaming with a smoky heat she had never seen before. She trembled briefly and swallowed. "What are you doing?" She meant to shout her question, but it came out as a whisper.
Ranma bared his teeth in a smile that made her tremble again. "Come and find out." Akane snarled, the strangely gentle arrogance in his voice infuriating her. She charged him, lashing out with a punch. He easily slapped it aside and stepped towards her, his arms snaking around her shoulders, and suddenly she found herself pressed against his chest.
Akane could not move, frozen utterly by Ranma's embrace, the feel of his powerful body touching her own. She felt his arms tighten, heard a primal sound rumble in his throat that sent a shiver chasing down her spine, followed by a wonderful feeling of fire rising from just below her belly. She looked up at her fiance and gasped a third time; she never imagined that blue eyes could ever smolder and burn the way Ranma's did at this moment.
"You're very cute when you fight, Akane," said Ranma, voice pitched low in a purring rasp that made her shiver again. His face began to slowly dip toward hers, and she realized that he was going to kiss her. She licked her lips, a soft, kittenish moan involuntarily escaping her.
Ranma reacted to the sound, but not in a way Akane expected. His eyes grew wide, the fire in them extinguished by a sudden flood of fear. He let go of her and swiftly backed away. "Akane, I... I..." he stuttered out. Then he was gone, fleeing the dojo in a blur of motion, leaving her alone. She stared after him blankly for a moment before slowly sinking to her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as her body trembled from the burning of her blood.