The water struck them, the doll grew in his arms, it was Akane again, her normal size, but her eyes were closed and she wasn’t breathing and he couldn’t feel her heart… she was naked, that wasn’t right, when she woke up she’d call him a pervert and mallet him so he took off his shirt and put it on her but she still didn’t wake up and her eyes were still closed and I’m so sorry Akane I was too late…
I never got to tell you I love you…
Hot tears splattered onto her upturned face, he rubbed his hand across his eyes but he didn’t really care any more that the others could see him crying in male form, manhood didn’t mean anything without her and now she was gone forever…
“AKANE!” There was no answer except uncaring echoes…
The wanderer sat bolt upright, blinking into the gray predawn. His throat felt raw; the scream still echoed in his ears, in his mind. No. It wasn’t like that. I remember… after… a disastrous attempt at a wedding… going to school with her, running at her side… He played the memories back, reciting them as if they were a charm to ward off the evil of a world that didn’t have her in it…
That don’t mean she’s gonna be happy ’bout seein’ me again. Tattered recollections, as full of holes as a badly-knit scarf. He wasn’t the only guy who had cared about her. Kunou with his money and looks and airs like a hero in a movie. Sweet, gentle Shinnosuke. Ryouga who never seemed to have the wrong words come out of his mouth. Kirin and Touma. All of them drawn to her cuteness, her kindness, her strength. All of them able to show their feelings, while he… all I ever did was insult her and get pounded. Wonder which one of ’em…
He had been so confident, just a few days ago, setting out for Tokyo with his new friends’ encouraging farewells ringing in his ears. But since that morning there had been too many days of his own company, too many sudden awakenings from dreams where she dumped water on him or hit him with her mallet. Too many memories of her anger, too few of the heart-twisting smile he loved so…
I still gotta know. I gotta see that she’s okay. That she’s happy. Then I can… He didn’t want to think about what he’d do when he found out, but… Feh. Can’t get it over with sittin’ here. The sun had risen while he brooded, and now there were people about: salarymen heading for the train station and their jobs in Shinjuku and Minato-ku; kids off to school; shopkeepers opening up for the day. The wanderer rose and headed down the hill, into the awakening town.
She was standing in the garden. Moonlight poured over her, turning the pond into a silver mirror. Her eyes were on the deep shadows at the base of the pine tree, waiting…
Ranma stepped out of the shadow and walked toward her. She couldn’t move, she was frozen in happiness, watching him come closer. He was smiling, his eyes even in moonlight the clear blue of the summer sky, glowing with warmth and love for her. Without a word he wrapped his arms around her, gathered her close to him; he was warm, he smelled of musk and mansweat and new leaves…
A dream. It hadn’t been real, it had been nothing but a dream. She was alone in her room, in her bed, the world turning from black to gray with the coming morning, and Ranma was dead, had been dead for more than a year, crushed under tons of uncaring rock and mud and rain. He would never come to her in the moonlight, warm and loving and smelling of spring, would never come to her at all.
Tears burned in her eyes. I wish I could go to see him. But Otousan was right, Nabiki was right. She couldn’t go to Ranma until the school was firmly re-established, until there was a successor for Musabetsu Kakutou. And she couldn’t just abandon her students, couldn’t leave shy Keisuke to be bullied, or plump, sullen Maruko to go through life believing she was ugly and stupid. Ranma would be ashamed of me if I gave up.
She slipped out of her bed and went to the window. A few clouds glowed with rose-gold fire. A stray sakura petal drifted by. The morning’s beauty made her life seem even grayer, even emptier.
It doesn’t matter. I have to go on.
“I love you, Ranma,” she whispered to the dawn.
The dawn didn’t answer, but then it never did.
“Good morning, time to wake up!”
Nabiki Kunou mumbled something incoherent and unladylike. She hated mornings. She hated this morning. She’d gotten to bed late, after a long, boring, exhausting charity gala she’d had to go to alone because Ta-chan was in Kyoto at a kendo tournament – not that she wasn’t proud of the way he’d qualified so quickly to compete at the national level, but there’d been too many patronizing remarks from overdressed dowagers, too many grope-handed fatcats with get-rich-quick schemes that were more likely to land her in trouble with the Revenue, an idiot host who was too generous with his gin and tonic and too stingy with his ice… her head was pounding, her mouth tasted like a sewer and she reeked of stale smoke.
Blech. I want more sleep.
“Good morning, time to wake up!”
The computer was all the way across the room, and she had to get up and manually shut off the alarm. She’d set it up that way on purpose. The markets didn’t sleep late, so she couldn’t either. Remodeling the house had taken a big hunk out of the Kunou net worth, and she wanted to not only recoup but double it by the end of the year.
So she stumbled out of bed, shut off the obnoxiously chirpy voice, hit the hotkey combination that tracked her American investments – she still had half an hour before the exchange opened – rang the bell to let the cook know she was up, and stumbled into the bathroom to take a shower.
She felt much more human when she came back into the bedroom. The maid had already been in; the bed was made up and there was a Western-style breakfast of coffee and croissants on the desk. When Ta-chan was home, she usually joined him downstairs for the traditional Japanese breakfast he preferred, but with Ta-chan away, she was free to indulge herself.
The list of hits on her screen looked unfamiliar. The topmost one seemed to be a message thread, from some medical site. “Female head injury patient acquires male characteristics when doused with hot water.”
NANI YO?!? Shimatta, I ran the wrong query, this is the one I was setting up after Ranma… wait a minute. Female acquires male characteristics when doused with hot water… Jusenkyou curses work the other way around… unless… Her heart was pounding; her chest felt tight. She double clicked to open the thread.
It never once entered her head to check the markets.
The wanderer trudged down the hill and through the shopping district, letting his feet carry him along paths his body remembered, past buildings that set whispers of recognition tickling in his mind, whispers that echoed among the doubts. Gettin’ on for two years… I wonder if they tried to find me. Maybe they didn’t. The way the docs were at that hospital, about my curse, they musta been askin’ around… can’t imagine Nabiki not spottin’ that. Unless she wasn’t lookin’. Wish I could make sense of the stuff I do remember. I remember Akane dyin’… maybe they blamed me for it. But I remember stuff… that messed-up wedding, that happened after she died? Maybe she didn’t die and she’s got somebody else now. Ryouga… Shinnosuke… maybe she's glad I’m gone ’n’ if I show up I’ll just hurt her and mess everything up. He plodded toward a familiar corner. Maybe I don’t hafta go back there. Maybe I can find out at the… Wait a minute. Ain’t this where the Nekohanten…?
The elaborate tiger and dragon banners, the angular Chinese tracery on the doors and the little front window, the big sign that blocked half the upstairs window, all were gone. So was the case showing samples of available dishes. The front door had been widened into a clean, uncluttered expanse of glass. Through it he could see a bright, airy interior, very different from the Nekohanten’s ornate red and gold. Gleaming utensils hung on immaculate white walls. Floor and countertops of honey-colored wood seemed to glow in the morning sun. Behind the counter, a pert woman in a tall chef’s hat cooked for two or three early customers. The exterior of the building had been painted white as well, its new sign a stylized dandelion over the door, echoing the name on the noren.
Shampoo gone… and the ghoul… wonder what else is different around here. Maybe I’ll go see Ucchan…
The thread went back more than a year and a half. It started with a doctor at a hospital down the coast, making inquiries about a mysterious patient brought in some days after the storm that had shattered all their lives. The patient appeared to be a woman until they tried to give her a bath, and the first question was about an unknown and bizarre form of hermaphroditism.
Nabiki read on. It was a long thread, full of speculations and containing numerous attached files that turned out to contain incomprehensible test results. The patient (whom they referred to as a woman throughout) had been brought in with a severe head injury and complete amnesia, so the doctors were unable to find out her history. Her physical recovery was phenomenally rapid, and there was a great deal of speculation whether this was an effect of her unusual physiology or was simply due to her amazingly good physical condition. It was noted that she insisted she was in fact male. The doctors seemed to have felt this was a delusion. As she recovered, she practiced martial arts exercises to the point of obsession, and therapy notes indicated she was becoming less cooperative. And then finally…
Nabiki had heard vaguely about programs to introduce pet animals into hospitals. They were supposed to calm the patients, help them relate to other people, that sort of thing. But this… There just might be another martial artist out there with a Nyannichuan curse… but how many are scared of cats? The message described the patient’s reaction in all too familiar detail… running around, screaming, and then finally…
She had injured two ward attendants who tried to restrain her, leaped over a five-meter-high wall, and vanished. Several days of intensive search revealed nothing, and finally efforts were called off. The thread ended.
It’s Ranma. It’s definitely Ranma. He’s alive… so what do I do now? What’s this going to do to Akane? I shouldn’t have stopped looking… but I was so scared… She still had nightmares about it sometimes. The one of Akane, sitting on the rock by the pond, holding the tanto, waiting for the moment with unbelievable, un-Akane-like calm… and the one where she came into the dark room and found a table set for an intimate dinner for two, a wedding with a bride but no groom… only in the nightmares it was Akane in her white wedding dress, and not Kodachi in her black one, Akane who greeted her with such perfect happiness in bright mad eyes that knew no one except the dream-Ranma who shared her world of delusions.
She picked up her cell phone, dialed, and fumed while it rang. Dammit, oneechan, pick up. But when she heard her sister’s voice, it was the recording on the answering machine. “You have reached the Ono residence. We are sorry we cannot take your call right now. Please leave your name and telephone number so we can call you back.”
“It’s me, Oneechan. Call me back, it’s important.”
Nabiki read the message thread over and over again as her mind continued to stutter over the implications of her discovery. Akane… Ta-chan… maybe some of the others… all the craziness starting again…
Ramen, dumplings, yakitori… “uh, excuse me, didn’t there used to be an okonomiyaki-ya around here someplace?”
“Yeah, I think the broker said the person who had this shop before me sold okonomiyaki,” said the yakitori vendor. “Went out of business. Something I can do for you?”
“No thanks, just looking for an old friend. Sorry to bother you.” The wanderer stuck his hands in his pockets and walked off down the street.
Jeez, it’s all changed. Shampoo gone, Ucchan gone… Is anything still the same? Is Akane… does she… do I still have anything here? The wanderer’s aimless feet carried him toward the shopping plaza.
Kasumi Ono was standing in front of the butcher’s stall, buying pork for tonight’s mabu-dofu, when she heard a cry. “Thief! Stop him!” A skinny kid came running down the street, a woman’s purse clutched under his arm. Right behind him came the woman, followed by a couple of shopkeepers. The kid twisted and wove through the crowd and came close to losing his pursuers, when…
The thief’s dodging path brought him within reach of a man who was scanning the recent manga issues at the entrance to the bookseller’s shop. Without turning around or even looking up, the man shot out an arm, seized the purse, and tossed it to the pursuing woman. He then stuck his hands in his pockets and wandered off into the crowd.
“Sugoi,“ murmured a bystander.
The murmurs grew. “… never turned around… threw it right to her… some kinda martial artist or somethin’…”
The sun was in Kasumi’s eyes and the stranger’s back was to her, so she could not see his features, or even clearly make out if his hair was pulled back into a pigtail or was merely short. She had only vaguely noticed his clothing, some kind of tunic like countryfolk wore to work in the fields. But she had grown up around martial artists and knew good when she saw it. And she knew that move, had seen it a hundred times, knew that offhand, arrogant grace…
A group of girls in Furinkan High uniforms walked by talking about it. “He was soooo cute!” enthused one.
“Did you see his eyes?! I’ve never seen a guy with eyes that blue!”
“And that bod…”
Blue eyes. Those moves, and blue eyes…
“Ono-san?” The butcher came back with her wrapped package, but his customer had wandered away.
It can’t have been him, can it? Nabiki will know what to do…
Nabiki paced up and down the living room like a restless cat twitching its tail. She couldn’t think, couldn’t concentrate. She had to check her European investments, had to call the landscaper, had to…
The doorbell rang. She raced for it, earning a disapproving glower from the maid, who thought ladies of her social standing shouldn’t answer their own doors. Feh.
“Oneechan, did you get my message?”
Kasumi twisted her hands together. “Message?” she repeated, confused. “No…”
“Come on in.” Nabiki sent the maid for tea and led her sister up to her study. “Now talk to me, Oneechan. What’s gotten you so upset?”
“Oh Nabiki… please don’t think I’m losing my mind… I think I saw… Ranma.” Please tell me I’m mistaken. Tell me it’s a coincidence. It was Ryouga-kun, or maybe some other martial artist was just passing through and it doesn’t have anything to do with us. People don’t just come back from the dead.
Nabiki nodded slowly. “It’s possible,” she said.
“No… they said he was dead…”
“Presumed dead. No one ever found his body, and believe me, I checked. I looked at all the reports of unidentified bodies, men and women; none matched Ranma’s description. Then today I turned this up on the Internet.” She handed Kasumi the printout of the message thread.
Kasumi stared at the printouts. “Akane’s been doing so much better lately… What if we’re mistaken and this is someone else? Or… this talks about amnesia… what if he doesn’t remember her? Or if he’s changed so much he’s like a different person? I’m afraid to raise her hopes…”
Nabiki shook her head. “Don’t see where we have a choice, Oneechan.If that was Ranma you saw in the market – and I wouldn’t want to bet that it wasn’t – isn’t it better if Akane finds out from us? If Sayuri or somebody spotted him and then ran into Akane and told her…”
Kasumi put her hand to her mouth. “Or if he just went home and rang the doorbell…”
“Come on. We’ll pick up Toufuu on the way.”
He could see the house now, just the top of the roof and a corner of the wall. Just being this close made his gut twist. He felt cold, in spite of the warm sunshine.
I just want to see her. See if she’s okay, see who she ended up with. Then… I dunno…
A dumpy, aging woman came by, walking a large spotted dog. As they passed him, the dog wentwhuff! and pulled at the leash, wriggling ecstatically and trying to jump on him.
The woman tugged on the leash. “Bess! Come on, Bess! You don’t know that man! Bad dog! I’m so sorry, sir, I can’t imagine what’s gotten into her. She’s usually better behaved than this.” She pulled the dog away and continued on her walk.
Somebody’s glad to see me, even if it’s only the neighbor’s dog. He sort of remembered a dog, but then he liked dogs in general. The warmth he felt at the dog’s recognition faded as he neared the front gate. He stared at it for a moment, hand raised, wavering. Then he turned away, around the corner, past the garden wall, toward the entrance to the dojo.
If there was any time that Akane was almost happy, it was when she was leading her beginners’ class. She loved teaching, and to everyone’s surprise she was good at it, especially with the younger children. It was what kept her going. The moments when a student’s “I can’t” turned into “I did it!” made everything worthwhile. Maybe it would have been like this if Ranma… if he and I could have…
From the shadows across the street, the wanderer watched through the open door as she showed two boys the opening moves of a kata, then left them to practice on their own while she convinced a shy, skinny boy to first block, and then counter, a simple attack. Then she worked for a considerable time with a plump girl who was having trouble doing a round kick correctly. Finally the girl got it right, and the wanderer could not help smiling as her sullen expression blossomed into joy and pride.
The class ended. The kata-pair ran off together. The skinny kid walked with a new confidence. And the plump girl ran to meet a man who was trudging up the street, her face radiant. Akane watched her… the wanderer watched Akane… She is so beautiful when she glows like that… and she’s good. She’s a good teacher. I didn’t expect that… but maybe I should have…
“Bye, sensei!” called Maruko, running to greet her father.
“See you next time, Maru-chan.” Akane watched the plump girl race up the street. She still wasn’t used to it even after all these months, it always made her feel funny inside when the students called her sensei. No matter how bad everything else hurts, I have this – that today Maru-chan was proud and happy instead of sullen and resentful. That Keisuke-kun won’t be quite so easy for the bullies to pick on tomorrow. She looked out at the street, glowing in the late afternoon sun, smiling. Oh, Ranma… it almost feels like you can really see me… can you? Even if you couldn’t love me… doyou finally think I’m a real martial artist?
Someone’s watching me. She was suddenly on her guard, looking up and down the street. Her breath caught. There was something familiar about the presence she had sensed… suddenly angry at herself, she whirled and stormed through the dojo and back into the house.
The wanderer faded into the shadows.nbsp; When he looked up again, Akane was gone.nbsp; Some older boys were arriving, and Souun Tendou was in the dojo warming up. Ojisan’s teachin’ again too? The wanderer watched for a while without really seeing. What do I do now? Go camp under the bridge and tackle this mess in the morning, or… might as well get it over with. He turned back the other way, heading around the block to the front of the house.
Baka, Akane thought to herself. Jumping at shadows. Who did you think was watching you anyway? Next thing you’re going to start imagining him walking in the front door. I don’t have time for nonsense, I’ve got to take a bath before Otousan gets out of class. Then she heard the front doorbell ring. Salesmen! Fuming, she went to answer it.
He hesitated before ringing the bell. What do I do? What should I say? It’s been so long – how can I just walk back into her life? What if – what if there’s somebody else now? What if she hates me? He remembered blows, screams, rejection. He remembered tentative, hesitant affection. He remembered her hanging in the air like a fireburst above the orochi’s lunging head, her only weapon a kettle of hot water. He remembered a smile that twisted his heart and lit the world like a sunrise. I hafta try. He reached out and rang the bell.
He heard the steps coming. Not Kasumi. They were heavier than he remembered Kasumi’s to be, quicker, somehow angry. The door flew open, and there stood Akane. By reflex, he dropped into a defensive stance even before his mind registered the blue flare of her battle aura, her furious expression. Then, her aura disappeared as though switched off. Her face was as white as her gi, and half of it was eyes… she pressed her hands over her mouth and backed up one step, two, three. This ain’t like her! What’s wrong? “Akane – I can’t remember – I’m so sorry – what did I do to you?”
Akane jerked the door open in irritation, a stinging remark ready for the hapless salesman. But it wasn’t a salesman, it was… Nodontsayhisname dontthinkhisname hesnothere thatsnothim Ranmasdead hesdeadandImaloneforever Imlosingmymind Iwanthimsobad through the roaring in her ears and the growing blackness she heard him say “What did I do to you?”
Rage blazed in her, burning away the blackness as her aura lit the hall. “You DIED, you baka!” She launched herself at him, sobbing and screaming. “Baka! Baka! BAKA!”
Died? He blocked the attack, trapped her so she was held against him. “Whaddya mean died? Baka yourself, kawaikunee…”
The insult ripped open all the barriers she had erected against nearly two years’ worth of pain, grief and rage. Repressed emotions burst up through her with the violence of an ascensionwave, carrying everything into a whirling, roaring darkness.
He caught her, carried her into the living room. “Kasumi? Kasumi!” There was no answer from the silent, empty house, no Souund except the faint shouts of the students in the dojo. He dropped to his knees in the middle of the living room floor, holding Akane against him, rocking back and forth, while the shadows lengthened in the garden.
He had no idea how long he knelt there, holding her. Maybe I should take her up to her room… maybe I should call Toufuu-sensei… it ain’t like Kasumi not to be here…
“I’m sorry, Akane,” he whispered. “I only wanted to find out if you were okay. I never meant to hurt you, I just wanted to see you. Please wake up…”
Akane drifted in dreamy contentment through a warm dark place that smelled like mansweat and spring air and new leaves, like security, like Ranma… she could feel coarse cloth under her cheek, covering warm flesh and the steady beat of a heart. I’ve been here before… this is what it felt like when I died… A memory surfaced, of opening the front door and seeing Ranma standing on the front step. Maybe I’m dead again for real…
“Please wake up, Akane.”
Ranma??
The dreamy warmth vanished; for an instant she fell free through nothingness. Then her eyes flew open; she looked up past an expanse of unfamiliar coarse brown cloth and met eyes the impossible blue of a summer sky. Itcantbehim hesdead theyregoingtolockmeuplikeKodachi…
Her eyes were enormous, huge pools of dazed wonder in a face as white as her gi. He couldn’t stand it. “Damn it, Akane, scream at me, pound me, say somethin’! Don’t just stare at me like that!”
She raised her hand to his face, felt warm skin under her fingers. “Ranma…?” she whispered. “You’re… you’re real… you’re not dead?”
“Is that what you guys thought?”
She nodded. “Your dad came back by himself, and said… there was a flash flood, and a mudslide… they never found anything…”
“I thought… maybe you guys didn’t want me around no more. When I started rememberin’ stuff, I remembered us fightin’ a lot, and all these other guys, and I figured you prob’ly had somebody you liked better’n me. But I still had to know if you… if you were okay. If you were happy.”
Happy… Tears spilled out of her eyes; she buried her face in the coarse cotton of his shirt.
“Don’t look like it,” he commented.
“It’s… I’m usually not like this,” she choked. But the tears wouldn’t stop, they drained from her like the ooze from a festering wound. She slid her arms around him and felt him respond in kind. His warmth and scent surrounded her, balm to her lacerated spirit.
“I won’t go, ’less you want me to,” he murmured into her ear.
She shook her head in frantic denial and clung tighter. Is this how Kodachi… a little voice in her head wondered, but she was beyond caring, it was too easy to surrender to the warmth of him, his voice caressing her ear, that wonderful scent…
There was a step in the hall, and a gentle, feminine voice. “Oh my.”
He went to coiled-spring tension instantly and looked up; Kasumi was standing in the doorway, her hand held to her mouth in amazement. And right next to her was Nabiki, cool and elegant, with an I-told-you-so smirk on her face. Her tone was dry and amused, the way he remembered. “Remind me not to underestimate you again, Ranma-kun.”
Soun Tendou trudged wearily up the passage from the dojo to the house. The boys had been hard on him today. He’d lost so much in the years since Kimiko died… and he’d never get it back, not at his age. If only Saotome-kun hadn’t left…
He heard voices. Toufuu, Nabiki, Kasumi, and a fourth voice, a man… it didn’t sound like Tatewaki-kun and anyway wasn’t he in Kyoto this week? That was strange… they never came over at dinnertime… he should have been smelling curry and hearing Akane banging pots in the kitchen…
Akane was lying in the arms of a stranger, a man who was seated on the living room floor. Kasumi, Toufuu and Nabiki were gathered around him. Akane? What’s happened to my little girl? Then the stranger raised his head…
Ranma-kun…? It can’t be… Ranma-kun is dead… Soun’s eyes rolled back in his head and he toppled to the floor like a storm-felled tree.
Nabiki sighed. “Some things never change.”
Ranma tugged on his pigtail. “Sorry ’bout this.”
Akane cupped her hands around the last lingering warmth of her tea. Nabiki had appropriated the television, Toufuu was getting out the go-ban and stones, Kasumi had vanished into the kitchen, and Ranma was methodically demolishing the last of the takeout ramen that Nabiki had ordered.
“Wanna go outside?” he asked.
She nodded, and followed him out onto the engawa. They sat down, side by side, staring into the garden. Sounds from the house drifted out to them: the drone of a sportscaster’s voice on the television, the muffled click of go stones, Souun’s and Toufuu’s voices, Kasumi humming. A koi leaped out of the pond, scattering moon-silver drops.
“It’s so peaceful,” he sighed. An early cricket started chirping under them.“ I don’t remember it ever bein’ this quiet.”
“It wasn’t. There was always something – our dads trying to get us together, or Shampoo crashing in, or Ryouga-kun looking to fight you…”
“Or you’n’me, fightin.’”
She bowed her head. “I didn’t want to like you at first,” she confessed. “I didn’t think there was any way that somebody like you could like me, and then after Shampoo came, and Ukyou, they were so much better than me, and they were cuter and they could cook, and I was so afraid of how much it would hurt when you picked one of them.” Her hands twisted in her lap. “I didn’t know it would hurt so much worse to lose you…”
His hand closed on hers. “They ain’t… Y’know, when I was in that hospital, I couldn’t remember nothin’ – not even my own name. But I kept dreamin’ about this girl. She had short black hair, and she was mad a lot, but when she smiled she was the cutest girl in the world. And I knew that if I could ever find that girl, everything would be okay. When I started rememberin’ stuff… I remembered your name before I remembered my own.” He fidgeted. “I ain’t no good at flowery stuff, that’s pretty much it. If ya want me, well, I’m here.”
She stared. Her chest felt so tight she couldn’t speak. Finally she nodded and leaned toward him, and he gathered her into his lap.
An eternity later, he leaned back against the end of the amado and settled her more comfortably against him. “Better?” he asked.
She nodded.
“I dunno what kinda mess I’m gonna make teachin,’” he mused. “All I know’s the way Oyaji taught me, and I wouldn’t do that to a kid. Now you, I watched you with those kids. You’re pretty good.”
“Hontou ni?” She stared at him in wonder.
He tugged on his pigtail. “Well yeah. I mean, the way you worked with that girl, and the way she looked when she got it – I dunno if I could do stuff like that. Speakin’ of Oyaji, what happened to the old panda anyway?”
Akane shook her head. “I don’t know. He disappeared… not long after… after your funeral. That sounds so weird!” She hugged him tightly, reassuring herself of his reality. “Your mom went to a monastery, near Lake Biwa I think… I… I didn’t notice very much back then.”
“I guess it was pretty rough on you.”
She gripped his hand. “I wanted to die,” she whispered. “That’s why Otousan started up the school again – so that I’d have to stay alive, to carry it on, because there wasn’t anybody left but me.”
Tears stung his eyes. Aw man, I owe Ojisan big… it made him cold inside, thinking of how close some of his nightmares had come to being true.
“Everybody’s gone,” she went on. “Ojiisan disappeared right after your dad did.”
He snorted. “Don’t imagine you miss him much.”
She shook her head and made a little sobbing noise that was probably supposed to be a giggle. “That’s one thing, it’s been so quiet. Nobody smashing through the walls, no epidemics of panty-stealing all over town… the choukai is ecstatic, they think Otousan worked some kind of miracle. So peaceful… it’s a little bit boring.”
“Yeah, I wandered around town some, I know the Nekohanten and Ucchan’s are gone.”
“Shampoo’s granny took her back to China right after… Ukyou really let her restaurant go, didn’t even open some days, and then one day she just left. Konatsu tried to keep the place going for a while, but he wasn’t very good at it and finally had to close.”
“What about everybody else?”
She turned to look out over the garden, laced her fingers with his. “Daisuke went to work for his dad’s company and he and Sayuri got married a few months ago. I’ve got his little brother in my class. Yuka went to the US to study music, and Hiroshi really did get a job in an anime studio like he used to talk about, I think they make pink movies.”
He laughed. Some of the holes in his tattered memory closed themselves. “That’s ’bout what I’d expect of Hiroshi.”
“Then there’s Gosunkugi-kun.”
Gosunkugi… oh yeah, spooky little creep always went around tryin’ to do magic…
“You’ll never believe what happened to him. He got a job with this magazine, photography, remember he was always taking pictures, and now he’s really hot!”
“Huh?”
“We see him all the time on the entertainment news, he goes to all these parties and nightclubs and things and he dates really beautiful models. He doesn’t even live around here any more, he moved to Shibuya.”
“Jeez. Seen anything of Ryouga?”
She shook her head. “He disappeared too. I think he came by once, but I didn’t want to see anybody, and he never came back.”
That’s weird, I always thought he… “What about P-chan?”
“Something must have happened to him, he hasn’t been back either. And then there was all that with Kodachi…”
“Kodachi? What about her?”
“Oh, she went… they found out she had this idea you’d faked your death so you could be with her.”
Ranma choked. “I what?”
“It would have been almost funny if it weren’t so sad – or so scary. Nabiki said that when they found her she’d fixed up a room in the mansion with black roses all over it and this huge bed, and she… she still believes that, you know. In the hospital. They had to send her away and now she doesn’t know Tatewaki or Sasuke or anybody. I used to sort of envy her,” she admitted.
“Why?”
“Because she had you. Even if it was only a… a delusion… you were with her. I don’t know about the others, but for me the good dreams were just as awful as the bad ones. It was so horrible, waking up alone and knowing I had to get through another whole day without you.”
“No more.” His lips skimmed her ear, sending a bright shimmer of pleasure into places that had forgotten light. “That’s all over with now. You don’t need delusions, you got the real thing.”
“Mm!” Joy, even the absence of pain, felt strange and clumsy, like unfamiliar footing or a not-quite-mastered technique. She turned her face toward him, her eyes closed in anticipation of a kiss. His lips touched hers…
“YIEEEEEEEEE!” Nabiki’s shriek split the night.
“Nani yo!?!” Ranma was on his feet in an instant, setting Akane down on the run as he dashed into the living room. Akane was right beside him and their mingled auras, blue and golden, lit the doorway.
“YatTA! Way to go TA-CHAN!!!” Nabiki, in no apparent distress or danger, was bouncing around in front of the television, waving her clenched fist in the air.
“Oh my.” The noise had apparently brought Kasumi in from the kitchen; she stood in the doorway, her hand at her mouth. Her pink skirt was smudged with dust.
“What happened? Did he win?” Toufuu, whose back had been to the television and whose mind had been on his go game, turned around.
“Oh, Tatewaki-kun is doing so well,” crowed Soun. His hands flew over the go board, replacing several of Toufuu’s black stones with his white ones.
Ranma blinked. They all seemed to be excited over a… kendo tournament?
“Come on in, you two. They’re going to repeat it, so you get to see. He won! I don’t believe it! His sensei told him he shouldn’t expect to do anything this year, but he won!”
“Now Nabiki, this is only the first round,” Kasumi admonished.
“Ssh, I can’t hear! Watch, Ranma-kun, watch!”
Ranma watched. He had never been much on the use of weapons, but over the last few months he had developed some appreciation of swordsmanship. The guy wasn’t bad, wasn’t bad at all. Hey, wasn’t there something familiar about his style…? Then it clicked. Tatewaki-kun, Ojisan had said. Ta-chan, Nabiki had…
He turned toward Akane, who was watching the contest on television. Nabiki’s married too…
Nabiki’s married to… Kunou??!
“Oh, that’s so great, Oneechan!” Akane hugged her sister.
“Hey, what’s wrong with Ranma-kun? He looks like he’s seen a cat!”
Akane looked at Ranma, then burst into giggles. “He just figured it out! About you and Tatewaki!”
“Oh, and I came over without my camera. That’ll teach me.”
Kunou. If I… if Akane and I… he’ll be my BROTHER-IN-LAW. But then, so will Toufuu… I guess it’s a fair trade…
“Umm, I guess… congratulations? Nabiki?”
“Thanks, Ranma-kun.And don’t worry about Ta-chan chasing your girl side. I’ve got it handled, won’t cost you a yen. Call it a wedding present.”
“Oh, I win!” Soun cried.
“So you do, Otousan. That’s funny, I could have sworn I had you in atari a minute ago…”
“We should celebrate! Tatewaki-kun won his match, Ranma-kun has come home… and he and Akane are getting along so well…”
“Yes, well, perhaps another time. It’s late, Kasumi and I should be getting home.”
Kasumi gave Ranma one of her gentle smiles. “I’ve made up your room, Ranma-kun, and I got your things out of storage.”
Toufuu’s glasses started to fog. “Kasumi, is that wise? Lifting futons, carrying boxes?”
“Now, anata, you know that is only an old wives’ tale. How many women have you told so?”
“Yes, but it’s different when it’s you.”
“Oneechan…” Akane stared.
“Toufuu? Does this mean…” Soun asked.
Kasumi turned bright pink. “Yes, Otousan. Before New Year… you will be a grandfather.”
“Good night, Otousan, Akane.” Kasumi hugged her father and sister. “Welcome home, Ranma-kun.”
“Thanks, Kasumi. And congratulations. About gettin’ married, and the baby and all.”
Nabiki hugged Akane. “Are you sure you’re okay, sis? I can stay if you want.”
“I’m fine, Oneechan! You’re the one with a problem… how are you going to tell Tatewaki?”
“Don’t worry, by the time he gets back I’ll have thought of something.” Nabiki flung her arms around Ranma in a fierce embrace. “It is so good to have you back, little brother!” She caught up with Kasumi and Toufuu. “Wait a sec, Oneechan, I’ll walk with you.” The door closed behind them.
“It’s been quite an… extraordinary day,” Toufuu remarked.
“That’s for sure. I guess ‘expect the unexpected’ is the rule when Ranma-kun’s involved.” She thought for a moment. “Two thousand yen says she sleeps with him tonight.”
“Nabiki!” Toufuu exclaimed.
“I know better than to bet against you, Nabiki,” Kasumi said calmly. “Besides, I already laid out two futons in his room.”
“Oh, I wish your father could have seen this day!” Soun sniffed as he wandered off to bed.
I kinda do too, mad as Oyaji makes me. Wonder where he went.
“What was that all about?” Akane asked, coming in from locking up.
“Oh, your dad was just… bein’ your dad, I guess. You said you got the phone number, that place where Ofukuro is?”
“Mm-hmm.”
“I hafta call her tomorrow.” The moment stretched between them, awkward. “Akane?”
“Nani?”
“Thanks. For… for bein’ here. For… wantin’ me back.” Everything he didn’t have words for, he tried to put into his voice, into his eyes. “’Cuz I don’t want to be anywhere else. I… I love you, Akane.”
“Ranma…”
He gathered her close again. “I love you.” It wasn’t nearly so hard to say the second time. “I think I always did.”
She nodded, her chest too tight to speak. “I love you,” she mouthed, but no sound came out. Still, somehow he knew. He tipped her face up again, and his mouth came down on hers. The tight, hard knots inside her melted under the warm pressure of his lips. They broke apart only to come together again, this time with lips parted slightly… the tentative, hesitant penetration of his tongue sent an explosion of dark, sweet fire through her. Her arms strained around him, she crushed herself against his hard body, desperate for him. Even the steel grip of his arms wasn’t enough, the layers of clothing between them were unbearable, her skin needed his the way a dying soul needs the Water of Life…
He pulled away, breathing as though he’d been in an all-out battle. His heart was pounding so hard she could hear it, or maybe it was her own, as she gazed up at him.
Almost imperceptibly, his eyes widened, a question asked.
Almost imperceptibly, she nodded, an answer given.
He slipped his arm around her waist and they went upstairs together.
NOTES, EXPLANATIONS ETC:
This is the Fic That Ate My Life… well, changed it, anyway. When I read Richard Lawson’s “Storm’s End” I ended up screaming inside so much that I had to make it come out different. I didn’t expect it to take three years and four rewrites, and become the centerpiece of a continuity ranging from the angst-ridden and as close as I will ever write to dark, to an exceedingly silly omake. And I certainly didn’t expect to come up with all the other stuff I’ve written while I was (not) working on this…
What kept running through my head when I was reading “Storm’s End” was a line from the manga, “Did you think that wrapping me in chains, encasing me in cement and burying me in the back yard was even gonna SLOW ME DOWN?!?” So… what could slow Ranma down that much? I had already come up with the scenario when I found a number of articles in the Japanese newspapers, concerning hikers who had been injured or killed by flash floods. Some of these were in Gifu Prefecture, a place associated with Happousai, where Genma might well take Ranma to train.
I know Ranma and Akane are both miles out of character. Put some of it down to maturity; this is way postmanga, about two years after they graduated from high school. Put more of it down to suffering, especially Akane who has been walking a blade’s edge between her grief and her need to keep functioning so she can do the one thing that gives her life meaning, namely teach.
A couple of other things: since my premise had Shampoo returning to China shortly after Ranma’s supposed death, I needed to put something in place of the Nekohanten; I couldn’t resist making it a branch of Tampopo. I love that movie! And the charity party that Nabiki went to was inspired by some scenes in another favorite of mine, A Taxing Woman Returns.
Engawa is the little veranda that runs around the garden; I prefer the Japanese word because “veranda” conjures up images of the deep porches on Southern plantation houses – not the right picture at all! And amado are folding storm-shutters that close the engawa off in severe weather.
A choukai is a neighborhood association. In the anime at least, Soun is fairly active in the choukai, which calls on him to stop the depredations of the mysterious panty thief – little knowing, of course, that he is actually sheltering the pilfering pervert.
There are a few references that might puzzle some readers: Ranma’s “new friends,” his reactions when watching the kendo tournament, even the way he’s dressed. Those are references to an unfinished story set earlier in this continuity. Be patient, all will be explained… eventually…