The trip back to Clarines was surprisingly short. As it turns out, knowing your way and traveling by horse along the main roads was much faster than trekking on foot and wandering aimlessly for days.

Though it also didn't hurt that Akane couldn't wait to get back. . .

It wasn't because she was ready to see the prince and tackle that unpleasant conversation . . . but because she couldn't stand sharing a horse with Kuno's insufferable aide!

She'd almost fallen off the steed several times thanks to her steadfast refusal to touch him. And now that there were hostages involved, her original plan to escape mid-journey had completely imploded upon itself.

At least with Kuno, she'd be able to undo the damage she'd caused.

She wasn't confident she could make Kuno see reason—she doubted anyone was capable of that. But she did think she could make his ridiculous obsession with her work in her favor, at least long enough to get Ranma and his friends sent back home, unbruised and breathing.

If Ranma didn't stick his foot in his mouth again, that is.

As promised, they'd been given the antidote back at the border. Still, until they were awake and lucid with no strange side effects, she wasn't taking any chances.

She didn't trust anything Kodachi had touched.

Once they were safe, maybe the trip wouldn't be in vain. If nothing else, Akane was determined to get Mikado fired for her trouble—she was even ready to lie if she had to!

With the way he'd been loose with his hands, anything she said wouldn't be entirely undeserved.

Still, the wait was excruciating.

It felt like forever before her patience paid off. It wasn't until the retreating sun began to set that she could see the castle far off in the distance, nestled high in the mountains, dark and forbidding.

And somewhere inside, Kuno waited.

"Home at last," Mikado announced triumphantly as he pointed towards their destination. Akane took in the familiar sight with trepidation, impatience, and dread.

There was no turning back now.

...

Despite her heated protests, Akane was separated from Ranma and the others right after entering the gates.

"You no longer need concern yourself with those low-lifes," Mikado had told her with a disdainful sniff. "If the Prince deems it so, they will be properly cared for and released. . ."

At first, Akane didn't believe they'd be treated well. But then she promised to make his life a living hell once she became Kuno's royal concubine—and his nervous, pallid face showed she could trust him.

"You have my word," he was quick to assure her.

Still, it was a while before Akane was deemed "presentable" enough to appear before the Prince. As Mikado had explained: "Once you enter the palace, your purity must be maintained."

First, a luxurious milk bath sprinkled with soft rose petals awaited her, followed by a massage, a change of clothes, and a stylist, none of which she could refuse.

When the time finally came to enter his chamber, she felt like someone else: She smelled like honey and vanilla, was weighed down with jewels and ornaments, and was dressed in a floor-length dress made of the softest of silks. And worse, thanks to elaborate pins and ribbons braided into fake extensions, her shorn hair appeared long, falling once again to its prior length.

It was like her protest and escape had never occurred at all.

She felt like an imposter.

Yet when Akane entered the room, Kuno's mouth fell open, and he drew in a deep, shuddering breath. "Such a vision!" he proclaimed, his eyes drinking her in. "Truly, a goddess stands before me."

"I'm really, really not," Akane mumbled.

"Please, please, sit down," he requested, gesturing gallantly to the chair across from him.

Akane obeyed and began to look around, taking in the picturesque setting.

They were on an intimate little patio overlooking the garden, with a table set before them piled high with various slices of bread and tea. Despite starving for days, Akane couldn't bring herself to touch a thing. "This is a pretty spot," she told him as she glanced around, trying to be cordial.

All those years of etiquette training from her mother were slowly creeping back in.

Prince Kuno nodded as he poured her some tea. "You may come here whenever you wish, Akane, though I've taken the liberty of bestowing upon you the southern wing; it has the most breathtaking views. Well," he corrected gaily, "except for the beauty present before me, of course."

If she'd been drinking the tea, she would've spit it out. "How nice," she replied with an insincere smile as she shifted uneasily in her seat.

"Let it be known, my dear, that I don't blame you for running away one bit," Kuno assured her haughtily. "For someone like you—sweet, shy, innocent—such a reaction was to be expected! Why, if you had come to me willingly or eagerly. . ." He ruefully shook his head. "I may not have looked at you twice."

Akane's eye twitched at that statement.

Did that mean her entire strategy had been wrong? Had running away actually endeared her to him?!

All that aside, she didn't understand all the other stuff he was spouting either. They'd met only once, on the battlefield, where she'd knocked him out during her military test in a bout of anger. How in the world did that translate to "sweet" "shy" and "innocent"?

"I see you're at a loss for words," Kuno observed pleasantly. "How charming."

Akane was doing an impressive job of keeping her anger in check; Kasumi would've been proud.

"I'm flattered, Your Majesty, really I am, but I'm afraid you give me far too much credit. Just ask anyone who knows me—I'm incredibly stubborn, unreasonable, and strong-willed. I'll make a terrible concubine."

"In what way? Those are all fine qualities in a woman," Kuno argued.

"But I'm stingy too and—"

"Excellent! Women should have restraint when it comes to riches!"

Gripping the teacup in front of her, Akane concentrated on her breathing. "Yes. Well. I'm not very ladylike either," she continued, already fearing how he'd positively spin this one. "I can't cook, swim, or sew, and I'm incredibly clumsy."

"But your modesty is very becoming, and is that not the most ladylike virtue of all?"

"Is it?" she asked, gritting her teeth.

Kuno simply nodded, looking more smitten by the minute.

"Oh!" She yelped after a minute, jumping triumphantly to her feet. "I have an awful temper, sire! I get angry easily and have a terrible habit of lashing out without thinking." She shook her head and bit her lip, staring forlornly down at the tabletop. "I'm so sorry. Could there be anything less appealing in a lady. . .?"

She heard the sound of Kuno's chair being pushed back and Akane had to stifle a victorious grin, convinced he was leaving in disgust . . . until he walked around the table to stand behind her, his hands coming to rest firmly on her shoulders.

"Fear not, my love," he told her gruffly. "As my concubine, you can put all that excessive energy to good use."

Akane paled as a genuine shiver ran down her spine. Gross.

So, talking was out then . . . back to escaping it was.

But first. . .

She abruptly stood up, shrugging off his hands, and walked around the other side of the table. Afraid of insulting him further, Akane reached for a vanilla wafer as an excuse and took a bite.

She couldn't forget why she was here.

"Does that mean you'll let the people I came with go?" she asked, addressing her main problem. "They were at the wrong place at the wrong time, that's all. They have nothing to do with any of this."

"Ah, yes. The interlopers. My aide spoke of them."

Akane scowled at the term. After all, they weren't the ones who trespassed. If anyone was an interloper, it was that jerk Mikado. "They didn't do anything wrong. They were just helping me. . ."

"Right? There I was, minding my own business. . ." complained a voice from behind them.

Akane turned, her eyes wide when she saw Ranma standing in the open patio door, looking awake and surprisingly healthy. Though oddly, she didn't see Mikado or the guards anywhere.

"Ranma? H-how…?"

He threw her a cocky wink as he strolled onto the terrace as if he belonged there. "Yo. Long time no see, Kuno."

"Prince Ranma," he greeted coldly, wrinkling his nose. "What on earth are you doing here?"

P-prince?! Akane stared at him in shocked silence.

Ranma threw himself onto Kuno's empty chair and grabbed a piece of bread. "Funny story, actually," he said, laughing at the memory. "One of your goons swung by Wistalia and thought poisoning its royal heir would be a FANTASTIC idea. Then, to prove how monumentally stupid he was, he dragged me here by force just for the fun of it."

As Ranma took a bite of bread, she noticed Kuno's face had gone whiter than the cloth covering his little table.

"My men?" Kuno repeated dumbly and shook his head. "B-but, with all due respect—how? Why?"

Ranma, swallowing, reached for the tea. "Ask her," he said, nodding towards Akane. "She was there."

As Kuno stared at Akane, finally, comically, his brain managed to put all the pieces together, and his face became even whiter. If there were any chairs left to fall into, he would've collapsed then and there. Instead, he gripped the side of the table with a white-knuckled grip and tried to remain upright. "I-I can assure you, I gave no such orders. He was only to retrieve the girl!"

"Sure you didn't. Yet here I am, and all 'cause you couldn't handle rejection from some uncute tomboy." He shook his head and said, "Surely Azusa's not that bad."

That was a lie. Everyone on the planet knew Azusa was that bad.

Finding himself backed into a corner, Kuno grimaced. "I-I can assure you, my man will be properly handled. If there's anything you need, anything at all that can make up for the injustice you suffered, please, you have but to name it. No one need know of this."

"Cool," said Ranma as he grabbed a couple pieces of bread and stood up.

Walking around the table, he tossed it to Akane as she sat quietly in her chair, listening to their conversation with an air of wonder.

She was staring at Prince Ranma.

"You're probably gonna wanna eat something," he told her. "It'll be a while before we reach Wistalia."

"Really?" she repeated her chest close to bursting—for quite a few reasons.

Realizing he was in no position to make demands, Kuno blurted the same thing. "Really? B-but, Your Highness! Surely you can find someone more to your liking? Someone worthy of your trip? I have many beautiful attendants—you may pick any one of them! Or-or gold, jewels! Wait," he muttered to himself, "you already have those."

"Come on, Akane," Ranma said, pulling her to her feet. "The service here is crap."

"My twisted sister!" he shouted desperately. "I give you my most solemn vow: She will never bother you again. Certainly, having your most loathsome suitor banned from your kingdom and your presence is worth the price of a lowly concubine and the restoration of your honor."

Ranma stopped right in his tracks.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "That is tempting."

Prince or no, Akane wasn't about to lose her freedom to the likes of Kodachi!

Throwing caution and manners to the wind, she flung that loaf of bread at him, ignored his muttered "Ow!" and tightly grabbed his arm. "Come on, Your Highness," she hissed. "Your friends are waiting, remember?"

Then, Akane physically began to drag him out of the archway before he could change his mind.

This time, Ranma didn't protest and with a wave over his shoulder, said, "Pleasure doing business with you, Kuno."

Although Akane didn't see the furious expression on her former suitor's face, she knew he must be seething.

She could only hope this was the last time she'd ever have to see him again.

(Akane doubted she was that lucky.)

It was only when they'd managed to put some distance between them that Akane realized she was still holding Ranma's arm. With a yelp, she dropped it like it was on fire.

Ranma. Prince Ranma.

Which meant. . .

No, she couldn't think about that right now. They needed to get away from here first!

"S-sorry about that," she stammered, blushing with embarrassment as they continued down the hall.

Ranma merely shrugged and shot her a smile. "No worries," he said with a wink. "I don't need an excuse to cut Kuno down a peg or two. The moron had it coming."

"Still, you could've just left. You coming back for me meant a lot. Thanks, Ranma."

He was walking beside her now, and for a second, she thought she saw him flush. "Um, no, it's fine," he told her, clearing his throat. "Anyway, we need to turn right up ahead. There's a secret passage in one of the rooms that leads to the foyer. We can sneak out there."

Akane raised an eyebrow. "Just how often have you been here?" she asked him.

"More often than I'd like?" he replied with an honest shrug. "I had to travel here on diplomatic visits from time to time. On one trip, my sister, Ranko, accidentally wandered into a room with an alligator and almost got eaten. After that, my old man tracked down the blueprints and made us memorize the layout. Turns out this place is filled with hidden rooms and passages."

Akane nodded faintly, her mind going blank. "Ranko." She repeated slowly. "So your sister's name is Ranko."

Ranma stopped before one of the rooms, his hand on the doorknob. "Yeah. Why?"

"N-no reason," she whispered, and when Ranma, curious, glanced back at her, he saw there were tears in her eyes.

Akane had tried to fight them back. But it was like trying to hold back a dam.

So this was her Ranma.

How could this have happened?

"H-hey, what's wrong?" he asked, nervously waving his hand as she fought to get a hold of herself. "That jerk didn't poison you, did he?"

Akane fiercely shook her head, even as she rubbed at her watery eyes with the sleeves of her dress. Ranma, probably afraid she was going to break down right there in the hallway, pulled her into the room and quickly closed the door behind them.

But that only made it worse.

Once inside, Akane collapsed to the ground, crying freely and loudly now, the dam bursting at last.

Even though he had no idea what was going on, Ranma knelt in front of her and patted her awkwardly on the shoulder. Almost immediately, Akane raised her head to look at him, her large brown eyes bright with tears, her painted lips trembling. Before he could ask if she was alright again, because clearly she wasn't, she wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"I'm sorry," she whispered brokenly. "I'm so sorry, Ranma. . ."

"H-hey, it's okay. Seriously, I'm fine!"

Concerned, he continued to pat her on the back, just like he used to do when Ranko tripped and fell. "Trust me," he continued lightly. "I built up a resistance to Kodachi's poisons ages ago. Even Ukyo and Ryoga are okay. They've been awake and fuming for hours now—oh! I never told you, did I? They're my royal guards and not very good ones. They're waiting for us at the stables with new horses and bags of food."

Akane laughed in relief.

She was glad they were okay, of course, but even more glad to be misunderstood. He didn't know the REAL reason for her tears.

And it needed to stay that way.

"I am hungry," she sniffled as she pulled away from him, resting to get a grip.

"Then you're in luck," he replied. "Because when the guards realized who we were, they couldn't fill the sacks fast enough!"

"That's great. I'm glad," she told him, wiping at her red and puffy eyes. "Thank you for being safe, Ranma."

Ranma swallowed and quickly stood up. "L-like I said, it's nothing," he repeated, reaching out his hand to help her up. "You, um, ready to go?"

Smiling brightly, Akane nodded as she climbed to her feet. "I am. Sorry for losing it just now. . . it-it's been a really long week."

A long eight years, actually, but who was counting?

"Hey, it's fine," Ranma insisted as he walked towards the wall on the other side of the room. Headed for the secret lever, probably.

This particular chamber was small, with just a bed, a chair, and a lantern hanging by a giant bookcase in the corner, strangely devoid of any books. But rooms that had a lot to hide were always sparse.

At least they were in this crazy castle.

Akane recalled being here a few times before. Once, on a diplomatic mission with her father that she could barely remember, and just last year, when she accompanied Doctor Tofu to help him carry supplies.

But Ranma must've known it was all for show. He walked straight to that lantern and pulled on its base, revealing a secret passage that opened via the bookshelf.

"After you," he said with a bow, gesturing her forward.

"I would say 'fools first,' but I guess I should humor you," Akane joked as she passed him with a grin.

"Jeez, is that any way to talk to your savior," Ranma complained as he followed after. And together, the two traversed the secret path in almost total darkness.

But for once, Akane wasn't afraid.

...

The moment they left Clarines, Akane begged them to stop for a break. She just had to get out of these horrible silks and awful hair extensions.

Once she was free of them, she felt like herself again.

"Just like the tomboy I know and l—" Ranma trailed off as if reconsidering what he was about to say. "Anyway, I'm sure glad you're back."

Akane felt the same.

The closer they came to Wistalia, to the Saotomes castle, the faster her memories returned. Like a film reel, they played across the scenery as they passed, making the colors pop, somehow brighter and livelier than ever before.

Akane recalled this path in particular. The way the branches from the trees hung suspended over the road, the fractured light through the leaves striking the cobblestones and making them sparkle like diamonds. She remembered the creek, the rickety old bridge, and the gnarly oak they used to climb as children.

Nabiki always claimed it was haunted, but she hadn't believed her for long.

Would it still be there?

And there was the old blacksmith's shop, abandoned now, but it used to be bustling, and they passed several little cottages, just like the one she'd left behind.

Straining in her seat, Akane turned her head again, trying to spot the road that led to the old mill, desperate to see it all.

"Man, I've never seen anyone so excited to be traveling before."

Embarrassed at being caught, Akane flushed and tried to settle back down in the saddle. But it was hard.

Of course she was excited! She was returning to Wistalia, to the one place they'd always been too afraid to return. And she was going to see Ranko, Aunt Saotome, and even grumpy old King Genma again!

This time, Kasumi and Nabiki weren't there to tell her no.

She could finally do what she wanted.

But she couldn't tell him any of that, so Akane settled for a light-hearted shrug. "Well. I've never been here before," she replied, lying with ease. "Everything looks so . . ." Familiar. Welcoming. Perfect. "Green."

Ranma chuckled. "As opposed to what? Orange?"

They were sharing a horse, so it was no trouble at all to swing her foot back and kick his shin. "Dummy," Akane chastised as Ranma pretended to holler in pain. "You know what I mean. It's so different compared to Clarines."

She'd been so stressed and tired before, that Akane hadn't been able to appreciate it. But now, seeing the land change and prosper before her eyes again, the differences were striking.

Clarines was mostly dry and flat, with scattered forests and a single gorgeous mountain that bordered Lilias. But Wistalia was varied, full of hills, valleys, tall mountains, and scattered hot springs. And thanks to frequent rainfall, its forests were lush and gorgeous.

Akane had always loved it here. And if things hadn't changed . . .

She shook her head, ordering herself not to think about that.

If Ranma sensed her change in mood, he hid it well. "It sure is," he agreed, the pride he felt for his kingdom evident in his voice. "There's really no place like it—I can't imagine living anywhere else."

"Must be nice."

She hadn't seen her kingdom in eight years.

"I have no complaints. But don't you miss home? You mentioned family before?"

"I miss them a lot," she told him, shifting uncomfortably on the horse. "But Clarines was never my home."

"Oh? Then where are you from?"

"Just around," she evaded, mentally kicking herself for telling the truth. "We've moved around a bit."

Which wasn't a lie.

But if she was going to stay here, even for a day, she had to be careful. She had to get her story straight.

Luckily, Ranma hadn't recognized her, so she doubted any of the others would too. But she still couldn't chance it for long.

Three days, Akane promised herself.

She'd give herself three days to see them again, and then move south towards Sentarose like she originally planned.

"Well, we'll be glad to have you, Sugar," Ukyo told her, extra cheery. "It'll be nice to have another female around. Being stuck with these two can wear on a girl, ya know?"

"I can imagine," she said, all sympathy.

"Hey!" Ranma and Ryoga protested.

Akane laughed, and couldn't stop herself from stealing another glance at Ranma while her head was turned. It was ridiculous, honestly, how she hadn't made the connection sooner. Of course, he was her Ranma—if the cocky attitude hadn't been a dead giveaway, then his signature ponytail should've been. Even though he no longer wore it that way. Now it was in a short braid, similar to how Ranko used to wear it when they were kids.

Even though they were twins, they would never be mistaken for each other.

Ranma . . . had grown. No longer small and thin, he was taller and leaner now, with muscles rather than long, lanky arms, and a well-defined chest she could feel against her back every time she shifted positions.

But that grin and teasing smile hadn't changed one bit.

"So, weren't you talking about a knights-guard test before?" Akane asked, recalling their earlier conversation by the cottage. "How many people usually enter?"

"A lot," Ukyo told her. "It's a real battle royale."

"And a trap. Look what good it did me?" Ryoga sniffed, pointing his finger at Ranma. "Now I'm stuck with him."

"Hey! I'm the one who got the short end of the stick on that deal!" Ranma protested. "But why so curious?" He asked her, flicking Akane in the back of the head. "You thinking about entering?"

"No, of course not," she said.

She wasn't sure if three days was safe—staying in the city to train would be extra irresponsible.

Though it was tempting.

"Why not?" Ranma asked, sounding genuinely curious. "Afraid you won't pass?"

"Of course not!" she answered, insulted by the insinuation. If Kuno hadn't been such a pervert, she'd already be enrolled in his guard! "But if you need proof, I could always fight you here and now, Ranma! There's a clearing up ahead, isn't there?"

"Uh, yeah. But how did you know that?"

Akane flinched and chastised herself. She'd need to be more careful moving forward. "Just a lucky guess," she said with an awkward laugh.

"A rest sounds good," Ryoga said with a grin, clearly invested. "We still have a couple hours to go, and the horses could use a break."

"Unless you're afraid she'll wipe the floor with you," Ukyo added with a goading smile. "In that case, I'd be happy to test her in your place."

Akane was glad to see Ranma hadn't changed. At lightning speed, the dummy took the bait.

"I'm game," he said, flicking Akane on the back of her head. "I heard how you walloped Kuno before—I wouldn't mind seeing what you've got."

"Really? You're not afraid to fight a girl?" Akane asked, surprised.

"Nah, not really," he told her, laughing. "I've been sparring with Ranko all my life. Trust me, if I didn't fight her seriously, she would've killed me ages ago! Probably in my sleep."

"I can picture that," she said, as Ukyo announced they'd reached the clearing.

Ranma pulled their horse to a stop and jumped down. "Alright, tomboy," he said, holding a hand out to let her down. "Hope you're ready to get your butt beat."

Again, Akane laughed. She'd been doing that a lot lately. "Go ahead and try it Ranma!" She challenged.

Ignoring his hand, she jumped down from the horse, excited to give this dummy a wake-up call.

...

At the sound of Akane's laughter, Ranma felt strangely pleased with himself.

He was glad she was feeling better. Having to endure Kuno's presence was enough to exhaust anyone.

He wasn't surprised she wanted to hit something.

Of course, what he hadn't told her was that although he had no qualms about fighting a girl, he still couldn't bring himself to actually HURT one. There were limits to how far he was willing to let things go.

He was still a man, after all.

So soon after the challenge had been issued, standing in the middle of the field, the rules were set.

They agreed to a friendly sword fight, no grappling allowed, with rubber blunts at their sharpest points to prevent injury. And just like that, the two combatants stood across from each other in the predetermined clearing, the wind sending the tall grass around them swaying ominously.

In preparation, Ranma removed his katana from its sheath. The handle was red and black, surprisingly light, and made by one of the most famous sword-smiths in the country. By comparison, Akane's katana looked aged and too well-used, as though her ancestors had passed it down through countless generations. It was a total relic, and he was convinced it would break after one strike.

He was starting to think this wouldn't be a very long match.

"Before we begin, Ranma, you need to promise me something."

"What's that?" he taunted. "Not to beat you too badly?"

Akane rolled her eyes but then pointed her sword at him dramatically. "Once I beat you, you can't fall in love with me! I have no intention of becoming your concubine."

At that crazy declaration, Ranma nearly fell over where he stood. "Hah!" he countered incredulously. "Like I'd even want a flat-chested tomboy like you! I've got pretty high standards, you know."

"Did you just call me flat-chested?!" she yelled as she tightened her grip on her weapon.

"AND BEGIN!" Shouted Ukyo as Ryoga suggested helpfully, "And don't kill each other!"

Despite the rally to start, both of them remained standing right where they were, taking their time assessing their opponent, each unwilling to make the first move. That alone impressed him. After his little comment, he'd expected her to come rushing at him in a blind rage; Ukyo or Ranko would have. At least when it came to combat, Akane appeared to have some semblance of control.

He was pretty sure he could fix that.

"Ladies first," he told her, with the slightest of bows. "If you even ARE one."

Before he'd even straightened, Akane proved how agreeable she could be. Her sword cut the air centimeters from where he'd been standing, forcing Ranma to turn quickly, blocking the blade with his backhand and using his leverage to push away like a springboard, just out of reach.

From his crouched position, he whistled low. "Not bad," Ranma told her as he readjusted his grip and readied for another parry.

"You're not bad yourself. Passable, even."

"What? Like your haircut?"

It was a low blow now that he knew why she'd cut it, but Akane refused to rise to his taunts even with his goading. Instead, she settled for a glare as she struck harder and faster this time, sending a series of strikes directly at his torso in quick succession, forcing him to retreat again and again. With a quick flick of her wrist, Ranma was forced to jump back, barely missing an expertly timed side-swipe.

Once he was a safe distance, Ranma adapted his stance to allow for better movement. "You're faster than I expected," he admitted. "I might actually have to get serious."

"Go right ahead," she replied sweetly. "You're going to lose either way."

Ranma didn't have time to make a snappy comeback—too quickly, he found himself back on the defensive, though this time, the speed she displayed was unreal. One minute, she was right in front of him; the next, she was flanking his right side and swinging low. But Ranma was quick too. Striking fast, he used both hands to force her blade back up. But even that was hard; the tomboy was strong.

Finding themselves once more in a deadlock, they pushed off each other's swords and separated,

breathing heavily.

But Ranma had no intention of giving her time to rest. On the offensive now, he launched himself straight at her. He struck, she blocked, he parried, she countered. Back and forth, they continued this dance, neither giving the other an opening to exploit.

It was actually really, really fun.

Ranma hadn't had a challenge like this in a while.

Just when he was about to break away, intent to regroup and come at her fresh, Akane's expression and body language noticeably changed. She no longer appeared desperate to hold him off, instead, her body became less tense, her shoulders and breathing relaxed, and a teasing gleam came to her eye—and then she moved.

Pushing up with her left hand, Akane hit the hilt of her own sword, driving it up an inch, just enough to dislodge it from the stalemate they were in—then, her right palm shot out, forcefully pushing his own sword back and into his chest. The force drove him back several feet, but before he could recover, she was already coming strong, swinging hard.

Ranma rolled out of the way, narrowly avoiding her onslaught, and once centered, lifted his blade horizontally above his head, holding back her strike.

He was still stronger, but man, did she make him work for it.

"Are you - very attached - to this sword?" she asked, straining.

"W-why?" he ground out.

"Because," she managed with difficulty. "I'm - about - to break it."

Somehow, Ranma found the strength to laugh. "I'll believe that - when I see it," he told her.

Akane smiled and then briefly closed her eyes.

From that second on, it felt like a hurricane had struck. Ranma watched, awestruck, as Akane's short hair began to fly out around her, and when she opened her eyes, her pupils were blown wide. Then, just as oddly, his steel katana began to vibrate and hum against hers, as if it had been transformed into a tuning fork. Ranma had just enough time to wonder What the hell? Before the entire blade exploded, the force knocked the wind right out of him, sending him flying.

Ukyo and Ryoga's jaws dropped to the floor, not believing what they'd seen.

"Holy crap!" Ukyo exclaimed, giddy and in disbelief as Ryoga cackled, likely thrilled by his demise. When it was over, he lay prone on the ground, unarmed, while Akane stood over him, her own sword aimed triumphantly at his chest.

"Well? Think I'm good enough to join your little party now?" she smirked.

Ranma stared up at her, still struggling to understand what had happened. "How..?" he began, only to shake his head, having realized that was the wrong question. "Who in the world taught you? That final blow—he won't teach that to anyone!"

As she withdrew her sword, Akane placed it back in its sheath. "Do you mean Master Happosai or Master Saffron? I've had a lot of masters over the years, Ranma, you'll need to be more specific."

At both names, Ranma's face went red with envy.

How the hell had she managed to convince them to teach her—wasn't she some healer's relative living in the middle of nowhere? Not to mention, they were the pickiest, most obstinate jerks on the planet!

Ranma knew this because the bastards had turned him down—or Saffron likely would have if he'd been able to find him.

The guy was as elusive as they come.

"Well, at least I get it now. No wonder Kuno was so obsessed with you."

Akane shook her head as she retrieved her cloak. "Actually, I never showed him anything like that. He wasn't worth the effort."

That got a nice chuckle from Ukyo and Ryoga, and even their three steeds whinnied appreciatively.

"Then, why did you show it to me?" Ranma asked her, finally sitting up. That wasn't the sort of technique people randomly flaunted, especially during a friendly match.

Akane shrugged. "I figured I owed you since you helped me before. Besides," she added simply, "I trust you."

At the compliment, warmth radiated throughout his entire body, and his heart sped up. Embarrassed, Ranma quickly looked away. "Yeah, well, you may be good with a sword, but I bet you couldn't beat me when it came to an ACTUAL fight. That takes more than fancy tricks and disarming someone."

"You're right," Akane told him, though she was loath to admit it. "I'm much better with weapons—it's what my masters specialized in."

"Don't be ridiculous," said Ryoga, coming to her defense. "I bet you could beat Ranma's ass with or without a blade! So go on, then—punch him until you feel better. We'll wait."

"You're enjoying this waaay too much," Ukyo observed wryly.

Ryoga, grinning broadly, asked, " Am I?"

"Idiot," Ranma commented as he walked towards his mare. "Ranko can only delay my old man for so long. Or did you want to explain to him why we've been gone for nearly two days now?"

Ryoga didn't need further convincing for once, and the fight went right out of him. A day they could easily explain away. Some villages up North took that long to reach by horse, so they could claim they were doing recognizance work. But anything more might cause suspicion and lead to questions; Ranma wasn't supposed to be gone long from court without notice.

Besides, he was already going to hear an earful from his old man regardless.

Already dreading that conversation, he mounted his mare and held his hand out to Akane expectantly, ready to pull her back onto their horse. But once again, Akane glanced at his hand and then ignored it entirely. Under her own power, she grabbed the mare's mane and jumped, swinging her leg up and over and quickly mounting the horse herself.

Ranma couldn't help but roll his eyes at how pleased she looked. "Seriously?" He muttered as he reached around her for the reins. "It wouldn't kill you to accept help once in a while, you know."

"Maybe it would," she answered cryptically as she righted herself on their saddle. "Besides, it's not like I asked to share a horse with you. I would've been perfectly happy riding by myself!"

"But I thought you've never ridden a horse before?" Ukyo asked her.

"I haven't," Akane confirmed, "not in a long time, anyway. But I'm a quick study!"

"Well, excuse me, Princess," Ranma mocked. "Since I was too busy saving your butt, I didn't have time to haggle with the stable boy! And it's not like I asked to share a horse with an uncute ingrate either."

"An ingrate? When have I ever—?!"

"Oh please," Ukyo whined, covering her ears. "Isn't it a little late to be griping about that now? We're almost home!"

Chastened into silence, the two rode on without further complaint as the sun threw angry shadows over the dirt road before them, the slightest of breezes keeping them cool and comfortable as they journeyed on. Akane, tired of sitting stiffly, eventually relaxed and settled against Ranma's chest just like before and Ranma tried again to ignore the tell-tale way his heart jumped at the slight contact.

Uncute, he repeated to himself, as if saying it more often would make it more believable.

It worked, for a while . . . until strands of her short dark hair would brush his cheek, and a hint of honey and vanilla would tickle his senses. Then she'd shift positions again, inching closer, and his traitorous body couldn't help but notice how perfectly she slotted against him.

In those moments, Ranma couldn't help but think he may have lost more than just a friendly little sword fight. . .

End of Chapter 3