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words: 5,270

When Ranma woke up he immediately knew where he was. Although he had stayed awake a lot longer than Akane, speculating about almost everything and nothing at all, he couldn't sleep much.

Still, her bed was always a lot more comfortable than his own, and he relished lying on it for a moment longer. He took a deep breath and took in his surroundings, quite familiar with the space as he had been inside her bedroom senseless amount of times, and shared the same bed with her since, well, always. She had always been so welcoming, too, and it was never more than that: sharing a bed. He had never considered her more than friends, more like a sister if he were being completely honest.

He turned to look at her. Her face offered peace, serenity, and that was usually enough to keep him calm in its own comforting way. She seemed to be resting easy, breathing in and out, easily charmed by all her entrancing features; he'd always thought of her as very pretty, or rather knew she was very pretty.

Especially back in high school, along with almost every boy who knew of her. And it was almost laughable at how much she didn't care, even now it seemed.

The tip of his fingertips just barely grazed her cheek as he reached over to push strands of hair away from her face, admiring her in a way he couldn't bring himself to do when she'd open her eyes and greet him with the morning sun. Not with knowing that she'd probably laugh at him for being so embarrassing, accusing him of being weird because she usually couldn't take a compliment and he wasn't used to giving them.

"God," he spoke so quietly mice wouldn't compare, "you're such a tomboy." And he didn't know why he needed to remind himself of that, but he did.

It wasn't a bad thing; it had never been a bad thing that Akane was usually like a boy, or rather, had taught himself to look at her through those lenses. Not that it mattered that she was nothing like any of the girls he'd usually date. And he wanted to ignore the rattling in his brain, becoming painfully aware of how much of a girl - or rather, woman - she was with mindless details. Her hands were small in comparison to his, dainty and soft to the touch, in an elegant sort of way, finding them quite comfortable to hold. And because she was always cold, somehow shivering during summer evenings, he'd find himself having to give up his jacket for her sake. The way her eyes scrunched due to her wide smile, even when he offered a horrible joke. But these sorts of details were what he'd find so appealing in women he was interested in dating, not Akane. Ironically, she'd always possessed these traits, it wasn't as though she were fabricating them for his sake.

He didn't know why he felt a sudden need to compare his likes on women with Akane.

Kissing Akane had been different, but not in a strange sort of way. The kiss itself had been short-lived, and nothing like the typical kisses he was used to. Instead, it was gentle upon their lips brushing against each other's, and warm within contact with an immediate sense of relief all the while overwhelming his mind. Kissing Akane felt soft, tender, familiar somehow, and he found himself wanting to do it again, which was so absurd considering this was Akane.

Still, he wasn't quite sure what he thought about it, aside from finding himself not hating it.

When he pulled himself away, it took every ounce in him not to physically recoil in the way she started laughing. It wasn't a heinous laugh, maybe like a soft chuckle or loud giggle, he wasn't quite sure, but he also didn't know if she was laughing at him. He couldn't allow himself not to laugh along and pretend as though he was in on the joke (hoping he wasn't the joke). She squinted her bright eyes at him, her eyebrows knotting together as she looked at him in disbelief it seemed. He hadn't found the situation amusing in any sense, but he didn't want to feel like a fool, and instead of asking her directly as to what she was laughing at, he simply laughed, too.

She had been so close to him, if he wanted to, he could've begun counting all the specs embedded within her dark irises. But after a moment too short, Akane pulled away and prompted herself to get up to turn off the lights before getting back into bed to see that they could no longer see one another as clearly anymore. Before he realized she had fallen asleep leaving him alone with his thoughts.

And now, he stared at the low ceilings of the one-bedroom apartment wishing they'd fall on him.

When Akane woke up, Ranma was already making breakfast. She walked into the small kitchen that was seeping into her living room, groggy as she glanced over the pigtail-wearing man, soaking in the wonderful scent of scrambled eggs on a pan. It seemed she was hungry that morning.

She probably should have greeted him by asking him what the heck that kiss was all about, open a can of worms she wasn't ready to clean up after. Although, considering he pulled away before anything really happened, did it really count as a kiss? She wasn't ready to talk about the kiss, because in all honestly, she believed there wasn't anything to talk about. Ranma had kissed a senseless amount of women before, she was now just a pile on, and it was easier not to think about it. Brush it aside, away from her mind, take the road more traveled by.

So, her childhood best friend kissed her last night? He was probably feeling vulnerable after getting dumped, and arguably any flirt would have sufficed. Sure, it plummeted her self-esteem just a tad. But she wasn't ready to throw away their friendship for something so unsustainable. And she shouldn't be offended at how ready he was to easily throw away years and years of friendships down the drain for a quick fuck – right?

Take a deep breath.

So many times, had she envisioned what it would be to kiss Ranma, usually indulged in some sort of wishful thinking. And she would have entertained it a bit more had she not considered everything at risk. She knew better than to feed on the idea that it was anything else, when it clearly wasn't. But it tickled her brain to think that he'd even consider her for such leisure. She was his friend, not a convenient old fling's contact he hadn't trashed from his phone.

But that was last night, and she was more than willing to abandon the thought that he crossed a boundary that in all honesty had always felt more like a wall. Although, taking into account that he had been gentlemen enough to ask before committing the deed, and keeping in mind that she had allowed it, quite obvious that she had kissed him back, it wasn't a spontaneous kiss. Sure, she was on the sleepier side and he just recently dumped, but both awake and aware of their actions.

And now, in all his morning glory of scruffy bangs with a frizzy pigtail, she decided she wasn't all that curious what he meant by kissing her.

"Morning," she said lamely. She noticed the way she had dragged him out of thought by unintentionally startling him. She took a seat on the loveseat, brushing her fingers through her short strands in a sense to fix herself, she had company, after all.

He turned to face her, a half-smile easily plastered upon his face as he greeted back, "Mornin'." His voice was low and a tad hoarse, and God, was it beautiful so early in the morning, she found herself smiling involuntarily.

She'd ask him why he was making breakfast, but that was typical of him; each time he'd woken earlier than she, he'd whip something up. She would have done the same, yet hardly did she ever wake up before him. Sometimes she wondered if he did that on purpose, as he's never been one to keep comments about her distasteful cooking to himself.

"Sleep well?" he asked, turning his attention back to the task at hand, scrambling eggs with not too much salt or pepper.

She was quiet for a moment too long, he thought, which felt unusual and out of place. Akane usually walked into the kitchen demanding coffee, and if she woke up in a good enough mood, she'd hassle the need to help in the kitchen.

Soon after he heard her clear her throat, the way she adjusted her seating a few times just as loud, desperately awaiting for a reply. "Yeah." Her answer felt absurd, maybe ridiculous at how short it was, wondering if she was upset about last night. He hoped she wouldn't be, but it bothered him at the slightest chance she was. He could feel himself tense up, the grip on the large spoon adjusting from loose to tight, swallowed the urgency to know clawing up his throat.

Don't do it. Don't ask.

"Ya' know, Akane," Ranma called, not turning to look at her, attaining his nonchalant stance, doing his best to ignore the feeling of heavy rocks at the pit of his stomach pulling him down. His mouth felt dry and knew he'd be full of regret before having asked it, yet "last night..." slipped out of his mouth so easily.

Maybe it'd be good to ask about the kiss. He could explain why he kissed her – there was actual explanation, he just needed to find it.

Why had he kissed her? That was the one million dollar question, it seemed. And for a quick moment, not even a full second, he found himself wondering if she even liked the kiss. Pushing aside the question of the why, did she enjoy herself, considering it wasn't his best moment at how rushed and sudden it all was. If she allowed him another chance, he could offer a better demonstration as to what it's like to kiss him in his A-game. And he almost laughed at how ludicrous his morning brain was thinking.

He wasn't quite sure why he was desperate in her knowing that he was a good kisser – hell, that he was a great kisser – but he didn't think last night was a fair exhibition on his part.

And almost like fate was toying with him, pulling his strings just for fun , her phone's ringtone interrupted him all too easily. He fixed a curious gaze at her, unable to stop himself from noticing the way she tugged on her lower lip nervously, a voluntary tic she'd had for as long as he could remember.

"Can you hold that thought, actually?" Within seconds, the young woman stood from the loveseat as she answered the call and quickly paced herself back into the bedroom to take the call privately, it seemed.

Ranma turned off the stove and served the egg into two small plates with one piece of toast for each as the hot water for tea had finished boiling. He's not bothered. He is not bothered one bit. He took another deep breath and set breakfast at the small coffee table of her living room, patiently awaiting her return, curious as to who called her.

Who would call so early in the morning – okay, maybe it wasn't so early. It was probably that guy from last night. He wouldn't be surprised if it was, if he were being honest. This was Akane they were talking about, after all.

He had always had a protectiveness towards her, having a need to ensure that she was fine. Even though she was usually quite good at defending her own, he liked to think he offered a great deal of backup if she were ever to need it. Its urgency started making itself incredibly known fresh into their first year of college when she called him from a bar, undeniably drunk, claiming it was a dare from her group of friends. Although Akane had insisted that she was fine, Ranma showed up to take her home, raging at how careless she was being. Sometimes he still looks at her and sees the same flustered face arise from the alcohol, seemingly defenseless and unknowing, unable to help himself but fight the urge to drag her home and keep her locked in. God, he was lame.

"Who was that?" he asked, having a need to pry as soon as she walked out of her bedroom.

Akane frowned at him, furrowing her eyebrows as she quickly took a seat across him, probing her breakfast with a fork, not quite as hungry as she thought she was, mustering a simple, "A friend."

Ranma laughed once through pressed lips, somehow annoyed at her answer, "Was he wanting to apologize for calling so late?" His own direct words exuded sarcasm and she couldn't help but make a face, irritated at his distasteful comment somehow not surprised that he knew who had called.

"Actually," she humphed, "it's none of your business." She glanced back at him, finding him quite funny-looking with his puffed cheeks and flared nostrils, squinting his eyes with irritation of his own; she couldn't help but offer him a set of rolled eyes, triggering him briefly before continuing, "But if you must know, we're hanging out tonight."

"And doing what?"

"Aren't we nosy this morning."

Ranma winced at that, knowing it'd be easier to say that he didn't care, to play along and ridicule her sense of needing to get sexed up, but in that exact moment he needed to know if that was exactly what she was going to do. He combed his hand through his shabby fringe, frustrated, combating the need to react irrationally.

What was he – chopped liver? "Aren't we hanging out tonight?"

"Um..." she jeered at him, "not that I know of." She watched him curiously, or rather cautiously. She was now taking a bite off her toast, her scrunched eyes glancing at him bizarrely, wondering what he was on about. True, he was usually the type to barge in unannounced and demand attention, and shame on her for having allowed it since they were younger, but that was just Ranma. His calling for said attention just came naturally, and almost anyone was willing to give it to him, especially girls – why would she be the exception?

"Well," Ranma sneered as he leaned closer to her, and she pulled away, "we are."

"Says who?"

"Says me."

"Ranma," Akane scowled in disbelief, "I already have plans."

In that moment Ranma took the liberty to reach for her phone and tried handing it to her in such a careless way, she watched him as though he had just grown another head. "Call him back, tell him you'll need to cancel." His tone was calm and confident, and it upset her.

"Excuse me? I'm not going to do that." She did take her phone away from his hand, slightly agitated at how rude he was being, and frustrated as to why she didn't know why. "What's the matter with you, jerk ." Her friend hadn't done anything to him; and, in actuality, they didn't even know each other. His reaction was uncalled for.

Ranma straightened himself up as soon as he heard the door to Akane's apartment open. He muted the television, and quickly slipped his slippers on as he made his way towards the entrance, trying his best not to wince at the way she yelped, startled to see him in her apartment without permission.

"Ranma!" She glowered at him, quick to attack his arm with her clutched purse. Her scorned expression was quickly directed at him, shaking her head disapprovingly as she removed her flats and started walking past him towards her kitchen, inquiring, "What are you doing here? You left hours ago."

The young man tried to balance on the balls of his feet, looking away bashfully, knowing he should have texted before stopping by unannounced. When he left, she was on her way to meet with her friend, he knew the chances of them coming back to her place – or not at all – were slim but plausible. He knew it wouldn't look good had he walked in on them, knowing she wouldn't have been too happy about the incident. Still, he couldn't find it in him to leave when he did show up and she wasn't home.

He eyed her momentarily, watching her place a small sealed bundt cake atop her counter, along with her weapon of choice, the assaulting purse. She was still dressed appropriately, it seemed. Her buttoned blouse was still tucked into her high skirt, and her styled hair didn't have any messy strands sticking out to indicate anything else. As desperate as that felt, it still offered him an odd sense of relief.

"I see you brought some dessert," he chuckled nervously, trying to change the subject as he made his way to her, or rather the cake.

Akane sighed loudly, making it clear that she wanted him to hear her annoyance, as rolling her eyes didn't seem to be cutting it anymore. She rested her back against the counter, crossing her arms over her chest as she looked at him, "Shinnosuke bakes. He, um, made it for me." And it was like she'd said he used rat's poison as the powdered sugar, that he mixed his snot for the secret ingredient, because almost immediately Ranma stopped trying to open the package and simply pushed it away from him.

"Oh." Was all he said, and it was really starting to piss her off because not once did she ever show just how must she disliked all his girlfriends.

"What, you don't want a piece because Shinnosuke made it?" she asked, staring at him with half-lidded eyes as she pushed herself away from the counter, walking away without waiting for any sort of response before she disappeared into her bedroom. He stayed put in the kitchen, scratching the back of his leg with the other foot, not saying anything at all, not having anything to say, and simply waited for her to return.

He didn't know why he didn't like the guy, but he just didn't – not that she needed to know that.

She reappeared wearing a stretching headband that helped push all her short bangs away from her face, having changed into a pair of sweatpants and one of his oversized tops. He didn't know why, but this left him immediately short-winded. It must've been an old shirt he had forgotten about then and easily reclaimed as her own, but he recognized his shirt, with her in it, willingly wearing it. Something about that aroused him in a way he didn't quite understand, or rather, couldn't understand.

Akane walked straight into the kitchen and reached for the sealed cake, not bothering to look his way as she began taking it out of its container.

"That's not why I don't want some cake, ya' know," Ranma lied, clearing his throat, anxious when she didn't say anything back to him. Instead, she reached for a small plate and a knife to cut a piece, and then a fork.

"Then eat a piece," Akane offered him a slice with stern expression, unappreciated at how unfair he was being. She didn't plan on introducing either man to each other, but it still bothered her.

"I'm really not that hungry."

How disappointing. "Ok," she said instead, and took the piece for herself. She really wasn't trying to make a bigger deal of the situation and hoped to drop it altogether.

Why did it rile him so much to see her eat the piece of cake so mindlessly? He could bake a cake just as delicious, had she asked for one.

"What are you doing here, Ranma?" She steered back to the initial question, really wanting to know. He had stayed all day with her, unsure if it had been his day off or he had called in. He simply announced that he didn't have to go in, and she believed him, considering she didn't have any reason not to. They had ordered takeout, his treat, and before she knew it she was getting ready to meet with Shinnosuke. Her friend had invited her to run some errands with him, such as stopping by some local bookstores to purchase secondhand-first-edition pre-owned books that he had called to place on hold and visit a new coffee shop that had just opened two blocks away from his place. It would be a very casual outing, whether Ranma thought otherwise or not.

She walked him to the underground subway, and then he was gone. Or so she thought.

"Uh," he cleared his throat, trying to remember, or rather come up an excuse fast enough that she wouldn't kill him for.

"You have work in the morning."

"Who says I'm not going to work?" He smirked his egoistic smile, the one she was all too familiar with, and undeniably found comfort in. God, was he annoying.

"So, tell me," Akane grinned a lopsided smile at him, "were you making sure Shinnosuke didn't come over?" Shinnosuke – what kind of name was that anyway? Had she really seen through his ploy? But then, again, why was she laughing? She shook her head playfully, just as jokingly bumping her arm with his, "You're such a dork sometimes." And then she placed her unfinished cake back on the counter (a detail that didn't go unnoticed by him) before she made her way towards the loveseat and asked, "Are you spending the night, again?"

He glanced at her, watching her change the movie he had abandoned when she first walked in. She took a seat with her legs crossed underneath her, offering him a smile like she was never upset about anything at all. How did he say that he really wanted to spend the night, but in a completely different way than she had meant it. Gah! Stop it. Stop it. He felt his cheeks flare up, and forced himself to shake those thoughts away, aware of just how inappropriate he felt just thinking about her in that way. It was as though a light switch had been flipped, and he was having a constant battle with a devil on one shoulder, and an angel on the other.

"Hey, 'Kane?" He called after her, and she glanced over at him momentarily with a dazed-out face and curious eyes before turning her attention back to her movie-searching endeavor. He took a seat next to her, dropping his shoulders in a sense to show that he was composed, very casual, as he asked, "About last night."

"What about it?"

He knew she probably didn't know what he was referring to, as he probably shouldn't have brought it up, but he couldn't help it. After last night, the chances of Akane accepting a kiss from him were low, and he just wanted to know why she laughed. Did she think about a really funny joke in the middle of it? Or remember some scenes from a comedy? He needed basic, straightforward answers.

And so, without any wimpy bone in his body, Ranma asked, as calmly as he could, "When we kissed..." He watched her bring her remote-holding-arm down, and stare tentatively over at him waiting for him to elaborate, which he did, "you laughed."

"Oh," she said, straightening her back before she looked away with pursed lips and asked, "what about it?"

He scoffed, offended, in utter disbelief that that was her reaction. And she smirked knowingly at him, knowing it had probably burst his self-confidence. All women knew Ranma Saotome as the charming, suave persona he usually was, but at the end of the night, he was stammering phrases that whined too much. Right? It was almost hilarious to have them both kiss. No matter how much she really, really , wanted to. And so, she told him so.

"Ranma, we're just friends."

Just friends.

"Y-yeah, I know," he coughed silently.

"Isn't that humorous enough?"

"I'm an amazing kisser, ya' know!"

Akane laughed again, shaking her head in disbelief that he wasn't understanding what she was saying at all "I bet you are. It wasn't your kissing method, or whatever, idiot."

"Then...what was it?" Why was that question such a pill to swallow?

Akane sighed, thinking for mere second before she continued, "I think that it has to do with us being friends."

And maybe she had a point, but strangely enough, it wasn't a good enough response. He didn't know much, but he knew that he wanted to kiss her again, even if was just to prove that his kisses weren't laughable. She hadn't given him enough time to show her just that. And he wanted to figure out why he had enjoyed it so much, seeing it had just been mere seconds, when apparently she hadn't. But he just didn't know how to ask without being awkward.

"I know we're just...friends," he established aloud, as if to agree that they're on the same page, her abnormally large eyes looking at him innocently enough.

"Well, you already know what I think."

Ranma groaned obnoxiously loud, displeased with the feeble reply his friend offered in a nagging tone, unaware at the way his grip held around his chopsticks would cramp in a sense to deviate stress from the seeming source of his problems. He would also be blaming him for the uprising headache daring to begin throbbing at his temple.

"Ryoga," He glanced up at to see the man across slurp on his noodles without much care of the world, allowing him a moment before he continued, "that's why we're here. You don't know when to shut up."

"All I'm saying is," Ryoga scowled momentarily with his own frustration as he glanced over at the pigtail-wearing man, quick to flash an all-too-knowing grin Ranma wished he could knock out of his face as he heard him say, "have you considered telling her how you feel?"

Ranma laughed once, rolling his eyes so dramatically it almost hurt, but he hoped he got his point across well enough that the idea of him having feelings for Akane was silly, absurd, foolish if you will. "To that macho of a girl?"

His friend shrugged his shoulders, chuckling along with his toothy fang quite visible, "Hey, if that's what you're into." Ryoga wanted to say more, and do more, like smack the back of head senseless times until he began making rational decisions. They had known each other for years now, having met at work, and were now inseparable (according to him). He claimed earned rights to speak on behalf of Ranma's personal life, deeming himself modest most times.

"Who says I got any sort of feelings for her, anyways?"

"Yeah, okay," Ryoga laughed impishly at him.

"This is your fault."

"My fault?"

Ranma nodded confidently, taking his stance, because he wouldn't even be contemplating these bewildering and complex emotions towards the young woman hadn't Ryoga pointed them out. If the young man was being honest, when he had been dumped, he wasn't quite upset by it. That only meant his fun affair with this maiden had run its course, there wasn't much he could do about it, or rather, didn't bother or care enough to do anything about it.

This was casually expressed with his friend, Ryoga, who then jokingly pointed out how the only consistent woman in his life was no other than Akane Tendo. That led to the mindless statement, "Maybe she's the woman knotted at the end of the red thread, eh? And you don't even know it." Of course, when the comment was first declared, Ranma laughed understanding his remark had been shared in the context of a joke.

But then Ryoga asked again, "Have you ever considered her as anything more?" Fuck him.

"Anything...more? Wha' do ya' mean?"

At that time, Ryoga had scoffed witlessly, shrugging his shoulders knowingly as he elaborated on just what Ranma couldn't seem to fathom, "Are you stupid? Like a girlfriend, a partner! You know, a lover, some could say."

"What, are YOU stupid?"

"Well, how will you know if you don't check it out."

"Check it out?"

"Yeah, you've kissed all these women, and you just don't seem to feel a connection with any of them. Maybe kissing Akane will help you figure out if there is a connection with her."

"Oh, you are one crazy son of a – kiss Akane?"

"I mean, if there isn't anything to fear, why not...check it out."

Ranma was now digging his fingers into his shabby hair, frustrated at the whole ordeal he seemed to have placed himself into. He just had to listen to this idiot.

Of course, Ranma did check it out , and now he wasn't sure what to do about it. If he were being honest, he didn't know how he felt about the young woman. When they shared what he hardly considered a kiss, it was too fast to help recognize exactly what it was that he felt. Not that he wanted to dig into his feelings, or nothing of that sort. All he knew was that since then, he'd been having a need to identify just what he liked about the kiss, and of course make it known just how much of a good kisser he was.

Maybe he was a lot more upset about getting dumped and found comfort in Akane somehow. Maybe the absurd kiss itself meant nothing at all, and he was being foolish.

He hadn't seen Akane in a few days, their recent interaction consistent of nothing but idiotic memes of senseless humor shared through texts. After crashing two nights in a row, he figured she needed her space back, and decided he'd give her some time before making her way back into her apartment – with permission this time.

"So, we're still on for tonight?"

"Tonight?"

"Remember? You were gonna hang with me and my girl?"

"Pfft, your girl?"

"I'm working on it," Ryoga huffed, unappreciative of his unnecessary jesting, "but she's bringing a friend, and at that time you said you were available." Ranma looked at his friend, raising both eyebrows, "I just wanna make sure you're still available."

"Yeah, you know I'm down."

"I understand if you're not anymore."

"Didn't ya' hear me? I'm available."

"It's okay, man, I won't hold it against you if you back out."

"Are ya' dumb? I said I can go!"

He watched the way Ryoga eyed him, seemingly twiddling his thumbs together, nervous. They shared a silent moment, aggravating enough as he watched him wince in slow motion just before he asked one last time, "Are ya' sure? I just think before we go out, if you give Akane a quick call –"

"And do what? Ask her for permission?" Ranma was growing tired of the inane things that were coming out of his mouth.

"No, dumbass. Just...talk."

"Enough about that," Ranma insisted, giving Ryoga one last glare before asking, "where are we heading tonight?"

His friend dropped his shoulders, having given up it seemed, but easily perked up with a lopsided grin as he said, "To the nightclub."

"Alright, seems like my typical night."

Are we gonna stick with the cliche way of things and make them go to a nightclubs? Yeah, we are. Will there be drama? Maybe.

Thank you for reading! Your comments/reviews always make my day3

I wish I was more consistent with my updates, but I'll probably mostly post Sundays (I just don't know how far the in-between gaps will be).