Chapter Text
The melody haunts my reverie
And I am once again with you
When our love was new
And each kiss an inspiration
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
The Toshimaen Ferris Wheel stood proudly above Akane and Ranma, a monument to mechanical engineering and architectural design. At over 40 meters in height, it was visible from any part of the park and rose well above the nearby skyline of Nerima.
However, by the standards of the world or even of Japan, it was a middling structure. Some Ferris wheels reached as tall as 100 meters, and according to a brochure that Akane was trying to browse as they waited in line, a wheel in Yokohama was already beginning construction that would be the tallest in the world when completed at 108 meters. Still, with most buildings in Nerima no more than five or six stories in height (if that), the Toshimaen Wheel was a regional attraction more than tall enough to lift its occupants to a height that could showcase the very impressive vista of Tokyo at night.
But any further details which could be gleaned from the brochure eluded Akane on account of needing to placate her partner. “Ranma, I promise I don't have any memories of that woman, natural or otherwise.”
Staring balefully at the playing card in his hand once again, Ranma shook his head before leaning back over to whisper to her, “But you had a feeling 'bout her, didn't ya?”
Shaking her head, Akane whispered back, “I don't think so. She just seemed...” she shrugged. “Familiar.”
The Ferris Wheel slowed its rotation, coming to a halt and bringing the six lowest gondola cars into the tiered platform at the base of the structure. The four outer platforms each had their own set of stairs from ground level, whereas the two center-most platforms were fed by a single wide and gently sloping ramp, presumably to accommodate disabled patrons or parents with strollers. Indeed, an elderly woman was being pushed in a wheelchair by a couple towards one of the two lowest gondolas that had just opened up.
Akane couldn't help but smile a little at the thought of maybe taking Ranko here one day in her brand new wheelchair. But a moment later she had to mentally pinch herself with the reminder that she was supposed to be minimizing her time with the older woman and the temptation that her presence brought, not planning out excursions with her.
As the six gondola cars were loaded with fresh passengers, the departing passengers having disembarked on the other side of the Ferris wheel, the line advanced forward with a park attendant directing people towards one of the six platforms. Since neither Ranma nor Akane had (visible) mobility issues, they were ushered into the second platform on the left.
With thirty cars in total, any given patron would get to ride the wheel through a total of five rotations before their time expired. But that was more than enough time for a couple to enjoy some romantic time alone.
For what it's worth, Ranko probably
would really enjoy doing this.
Her brow twitched. Akane didn't doubt her guest's assessment of Ranko, but she did doubt that she was being completely forthcoming about their odd encounter with the Yoiko woman.
I told you already, it was just a feeling.
Ah, so Akane had unwittingly lied to Ranma just now when she'd assured him that she hadn't had any feelings about the mystery woman. Since if her guest felt everything that Akane did, it stood to reason that the reverse was also true, and by the transitive property-
I just thought it was wise to be cautious.
Malarkey. Her guest was hiding something.
…
Look, there are some things in
her life that we're not proud of.
You heard Ranma earlier, it's not fun airing
out dirty laundry for someone else to judge.
Like that one lover whom her counterpart had apparently alienated after having sex with them?
...Among other things.
But I have no idea who that woman really
is or what business she'd have being here.
Akane's brow furrowed. Who she really was?
…
Her guest had heard that name –Yoiko– before, hadn't she?
It's a common name, she heard it a few times.
Yes, Akane was fairly sure that there was at least one Yoiko somewhere in her class Furinkan, but they were barely even acquainted. And yet there was at least one time where that name had held a very particular meaning, wasn't there?
…
Well if her guest was going to be so recalcitrant, perhaps she should go and ask Ranko-
Alright, fine.
After Jusenkyo, Ranko used her curse
to run some very stupid cons.
Akane stopped herself from rolling her eye, but not her lips from settling into a dour line. That, regrettably, made a good deal of sense.
She is who she is.
But one of the cover identities that she
came up with was named Yoiko.
Her dour demeanor evaporated quickly. So... did that mean...
...But that woman had black hair and a prominent fang among her teeth, whereas Ranko had neither. Not to mention the woman's fully functional leg and lack of facial scar–
I know.
Like I said, I don't know who she actually is.
The woman had said that she'd used several names, hadn't she?
Exactly.
But still, it was too much of a
coincidence to just be a coincidence.
But that woman hadn't revealed her name until the very end? What was it about her that had caused-
“Tomboy?”
Startled slightly, Akane focused her attention back on her surroundings. They were next in line for their platform, and Ranma was looking down at her with more than a little concern. She quickly offered her boyfriend a reassuring grin. “Sorry, I just got a little distracted.”
After studying her carefully for a moment, Ranma gave her a soft smile, though his eyes told a slightly different story. “Who were you talkin' to just now?”
Her breath hitched briefly, but she smoothed it over with an incredulous snort. “I wasn't talking with anyone Ranma. You're right next to me, and besides, who else would I be talking with?”
Looking into her good eye intently, Ranma's smile grew to a smirk. Then he slowly reached a hand up to cup her face, his warm palm a welcome balm to her wind-chilled cheek. At first, Akane delighted in the romantic gesture.
But then, with a dreadfully assured finality, he spoke, “That's the lie.”
Despite his touch upon her cheek –both soothing and exciting in equal measure– Akane blanched.
“I seen you thinkin' before, and I seen you talkin' with other folk. They ain't the same thing. You was talkin' with someone just now. Maybe not out loud, but definitely havin' a conversation. Ain't the first time I've seen it today neither.” Using one of the fingers cradling her cheek, he gently tapped her temple. “Who else do you got rattlin' around up there, Tomboy?”
Akane, scared bordering on terrified at having to reveal such an unbelievable story to her boyfriend, a story that had only caused his counterpart pain and anguish, took a step back to extricate her face from his enticing grasp. But when a subtly wounded look came over his face, she was forced to try and swallow down the lump in her throat.
Silently, she held out the stuffed Duck for him to take.
A prize won fair and square.
“I promise I'll explain later,” Akane said softly before shaking her head. “But for right now, can we please just enjoy our ride?”
For a moment, he said nothing, just quietly looking between her and the outstretched plushie.
But as Akane noticed the rotation of the Ferris Wheel coming to another stop in her peripheral vision, Ranma relented with a small nod. “Alright, 'Kane. For now.”
He accepted the duck.
With the burden lifted from her hands, Akane turned away from him and his piercing gaze to focus on boarding the gondola in front of her, with Ranma following soon thereafter.
The car door slammed shut.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Akane and her companion remained stationary in their seats.
The moment drew out longer and longer, awkward silence stretching out further and further between them like stale taffy pulled far too thin.
Her partner coughed. “So... is this thing gonna move or what?”
Akane's lower lip began wavering.
The wavering grew into trembling.
The trembling gave way to outright crying, tears splashing down her cheeks.
“Whoa, hey, 'Kane,” her lover began fretting, laying a calming hand on her shoulder, “What's wrong, what happened?”
The crying grew worse, and Akane brought a hand up to wipe away the saline on her face. Taking in a shuddering breath, Akane finally uttered the horrible truth through an embarrassing stammer. “W-we're u-underwater.”
“Uh, Tomboy? Pretty sure the ocean is still a good ways behind us.”
“On the house, Ranko.” Another awful beat of dreadful silence stretched before them as Akane was forced to surrender the secret that she'd been trying to keep under wraps for far too long. “The principal on the mortgage is more than the house is worth now.”
The comforting hand lifted from her shoulder, and soon Ranko had turned herself in the passenger seat of their hatchback to look at her fully. “But... we've been paying checks to the company every single month? I've written some of them!” Ranko shook her head, trying to understand how the calamity facing them had come to pass. “I mean... we put the money up for that big down payment, and ain't we been buildin' equity all this time?”
Still unable to meet her wife's searching gaze, Akane gripped the steering wheel in her hands even harder. “We were, at first. But a couple of years ago, the introductory period ended and the interest rate started to rise.”
“Wait, waitwaitwaitwait,” Ranko objected, and Akane could feel her eyes boring a hole into the side of her face.
Maybe if she bored deep enough into her skull, it would spare them their fate.
“You financed the house with a variable mortgage? Not a fixed rate?”
Akane could only shamefully nod.
“What the heck for?! Didn't Nabs warn you that those things are dangerous?!”
Akane nodded again. “But the broker said that this was a hybrid mortgage, it starts off flat and only changes later. He assured me it wasn't as risky.” Her chin and her voice resumed their quivering. “And we didn't have the budget to afford a fixed rate.” She finally looked over to Ranko in her red chiffon blouse and looked her beautiful spouse in the eyes to let her know that they were on the precipice of ruin because of her failures. “If I'd gotten that promotion, or if I hadn't wrecked the first car, we could've kept things going. B-but...”
Snorting hotly through her nose, Ranko shook her head sharply. “No. We've been over this, that promotion business wasn't your fault, you did right callin' out that superior asshole.” Her wife's confidence quickly bled out, but she continued, “A-and the wreck, that was an accident, you didn't mean for that to happen.”
“But the mortgage is my fault, Ranko.” More tears streamed down Akane's cheeks. “I made that choice with open eyes. A-and I've been trying to hide it all this time.”
Ranko blanched slightly, her eyes darting up and left and right, anywhere but Akane's face for a beat before she closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. After a moment, she exhaled sharply into an expression that was marginally more relaxed, and Ranko looked back at her with grim determination. “Better late than never, at least we still have some kinda chance to fix this.” A beat. “And I could'a been doin' more to help with the books too,” Ranko admitted with her own voice tainted with guilt.
Akane looked down to the arm rest between them, her eyes filled with more shameful tears.
“How bad is it?”
She shrugged, her shoulders bowed down under the weight of their oncoming doom. “At the current rate we've got four months before we reach the 110% threshold on the principle. Maybe six if we tap into our savings. After that...”
The silence between them grew deafening.
“I don't suppose a bake sale would solve it?”
The joke got a little smile out of Akane.
But only a little one.
After all, the last time they'd tried that with the twins, it hadn't gone all that well.
“Wait...” Ranko breathed, “All that old Jusenkyo crap that we got kickin' 'round in the attic, that stuff's gotta be worth a few Yen to somebody, don't it?”
Shaking her head, Akane countered, “Ranko, all of that stuff is caked in thousands of years of mud and muck.”
“So it just needs a little bit of elbow grease! I got plenty of that to spare!” Akane dared to look up from the armrest between them and back up into Ranko's hopeful face. “That show I've been watchin' on the English Language channel, Antiques Roadshow, all kinda folk bring the experts there old trinkets and knick-knacks that just need to be cleaned off with a little-know how to be worth thousands of Yen, sometimes even a million or two! I...”
Ranko's eyes tracked back and forth across nothing as she started to formulate a plan in that pretty head of hers. Then she nodded to herself. “I could rent a book 'bout restoration from the library, get some chemicals from the market, clear out the workshop,” she jerked her head behind them to where the seldom-used extension of the single-car garage lay, “so I got a place to work 'sides the dining table. And then I'll put in a call to the Amazons since they finally got that phone line installed, see if they ain't interested in buyin'. If not them, maybe I'll sniff out some of the museums 'round here, jog down to Tokyo if I haveta.”
“Ranko...” Akane swallowed, “That sounds like an awful lot of work.”
Her wife shrugged before giving her a goofy little grin. “Maybe I won't have time to cook as much fancy stuff as we're used to, but we need to be tightenin' our belts anyhow, right?” When the small joke did not lift the dark cloud hanging over them, Ranko's face settled into serious-mode, and she laid a comforting hand on top of Akane's. “ 'Kane, listen to me. I ain't lettin' none of my girls sleep out in the cold like I did, got it?”
Fresh tears began cascading down Akane's cheeks. “Even me?” She asked in a hoarse whisper, “Even after I...”
Ranko smiled at her warmly. “You're my main gal, 'Kane. My best gal. We're a team, and we can still fix this.” Her sunny optimism faltered, and she added with a good deal less certainty, “And if this hare-brained plan of mine don't pan out, then we'll figure somethin' else out, but we'll do it together.”
“Y-you promise?”
Nodding with as much certainty as during their wedding, Ranko answered with her whole chest, “I promise.”
The crying didn't stop. If anything, it got worse. She really didn't deserve to have such a caring wife.
But she was far too selfish to turn her away.
Ranko reached across the headrest to draw her into as full a hug as their awkward positions in the car seats would allow, and Akane's treacherous heart was all too glad to sink into it, her vision going gray as she closed her eyes and let herself give in to the comforting embrace.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
But that was long ago, so long ago
Now my consolation is in the stardust of a song
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
“Tomboy,” a voice, familiar and low, called to her from a great chasm, and her world rocked from side to side. “Time to wake up.”
Swimming towards the safety of shore, Akane blinked open her good eye and rubbed at, trying to clear the damned grayness clouding and distorting her vision.
She quickly became aware of a warm arm around her shoulders, warding off the chill of the Autumnal night, an even warmer body against her side...
...and a nearly agonizing crick in her neck.
Wincing as she lifted her head from what she realized was another person's shoulder, she slowly worked the kink out of her muscles and blearily slurred out, “Rranmaa?”
“Time to get off, Tomboy.”
What?
But they'd just boarded the Ferris Wheel gondola...
...and then she'd had a memory.
“It's over already?” she asked with mounting despair as she gained enough bearings to see the gondola right back in its loading position, the side door open and waiting for them to exit.
When she risked using her pins-and-needed neck muscles to turn her head back towards Ranma, she saw an apologetic smile on his face. “ 'Fraid so.”
“But...” Akane began shuddering with rage and anguish at her own hubris, her arrogance, her blind optimism that the universe would ever cooperate and just give her what she wanted, whether that was a fun night out with her boyfriend or a home for her family or a father who could understand that they weren't responsible for Mousse's recklessness or–
“Hey, 'Kane, c'mon,” Ranma tried to soothe her, “We can talk 'bout it in a bit, but we're holdin' up the train here.”
Akane didn't need to open her good eye to sense the other patrons in line waiting on her to exit. And she didn't particularly want to see them either. She wasn't keen on seeing normal people who got to have happy lives right then, who didn't have to fight and scratch and claw to get a few gods-damned measly-
Stop it.
I know you're angry.
Focus.
Channel it.
And keep moving.
“That's pretty damned rich coming from you,” Akane hissed.
What?
“What?”
Shaking her head, Akane muttered in an utterly drained defeat, “Not you Ranma, sorry.”
Although she could also feel Ranma's eyes upon her, he said nothing.
Then Ranma was guiding her to stand up, and though her legs wobbled beneath her like a newborn deer, she was just barely able to keep her feet planted beneath her.
Ranma never stopped helping her, touching her in some way or another as she lurched her uncooperative body out of the gondola and onto the exit side of the tiered platform. The constant touches should have been grating, would have been in another context. But with her head still lightly spinning and her guts constantly coiled up and ready to be loosed onto the world as the fiery breath of a terrible monster or just as plain human puke, she welcomed the guiding hand leading her onto the platform and down the stairs to the ground level.
As Ranma guided them towards a nearby bench in front of a large illuminated fountain, his arm once again protectively slung around her shoulder, her emotions hurtled from rage back towards despair, and she found fresh tears forming in her good eye.
Except no, they weren't fresh tears, they were the first tears she'd shed that night.
Or were they?
It had been such a long day, with entire decades of events and memories and feelings and plots and betrayals and failures and–
“I'm sorry,” she said aloud, as much to break out of her own worsening spiral as to address any issues with her fiancé while he continued to guide them both forward. Beginning to blubber, she continued, “I k-know that you wanted a r-romantic night out, and I ruined it.”
They arrived at the bench, and she was pathetically grateful to have a chance to sit down someplace where they wouldn't be bothered. Ranma sat down with her, his arm never leaving her shoulder. “You didn't ruin nothin' Tomboy,” he assured her with a soft voice, “Just some bad weather is all.”
“It's the dark cloud of failure hanging over my head,” Akane groused. With a free hand, she blindly pointed to above her head. “Can't you see it?”
Ranma snorted. “Yeah, I see it, turnin' into a doozy of a cyclone too.” After a beat, he squeezed her shoulder so that the rest of her frame rested more soundly against his, a gesture she was far too craven and weak to resist like she should. “You need some water?”
Taking stock of her parched throat and her runny nose, she realized that she really did. “Probably.”
“Want me to go get you some real quick?”
Burrowing closer into his side, she shook her head. “Not if means you leaving.”
Ranma chuffed again, this time a little more softly and fond. “One or the other Tomboy, 'fraid you need to pick one.”
“My life is falling apart, Ranma,” she whispered hoarsely, “Can't you take pity on me and carry me to the soda stand? Can't a girl have more than one thing in her life? Just once?”
“You've gone sixteen years an' change without me just fine, you'll be alright fer another ninety seconds.”
Akane sucked in a deep breath, counted to four, exhaled. Then she sniffled for good measure. “So you'll come back?”
“Lickety-split.”
She found some reserve well of strength and fortitude to push herself away from his side, at least enough to be able to look him in the eyes. She found in those azure pools a mixture of pride and warmth and a touch of incredulity; not only that he'd found himself tethered to the most high-maintenance and mentally imbalanced girl in all of Nerima, but that he'd asked for the leash in the first place.
Actually... Ranma in a leash was an interesting concept.
But one thing at a time. “You promise?”
Ranma held his hand over his chest. “I promise.”
Finally, she nodded her assent.
In a flash, he was up and jogging towards a nearby concession stand, his pigtail bouncing merrily along behind him and his well-fitted pants bending and flexing in interesting ways.
But again, one thing at a time.
She brought her gaze back down to the bench only to note with surprise that Ranma had somehow managed to bring along both the stuffed pig and the stuffed duck while simultaneously guiding her with a steady hand. Although she was willing to admit that Ranma had rightfully won custody over Quacky Duck, Mr. Pocoroso was still all hers.
Snatching the stuffed pig into her lap and crossing her arms around it as much for warmth as to visibly display her displeasure, Akane tilted her head up to the starry night sky. “Does that exchange he and I just had happen to ring a bell?”
What did you mean, that's rich coming from me?
She snorted hotly through her nostrils. “I asked first, so answer the question.”
…
She and Ranko had that exchange a few times.
You might need to be more specific.
With furious divots in her brow, Akane dovetailed. “How about 'variable-rate mortgage'? How about 'negative amortization'?” Briefly clenching her jaw, she added, “How about 'I've been hiding a horrible secret that's going to destroy my family, first from Ranko, and then later from myself'?”
...Oh.
“Yeah, no freaking kidding 'Oh'.” Raising her hand, Akane let it fall limp again in an impotent display of frustration. “It's almost as if this is something you should have told me the moment you solidified from whatever aether the gods plucked you out of! Or, better yet, something you should have told Ranko before you signed the damned mortgage! That way none of this would have needed to happen!”
You think I haven't thought that?!
That she hadn't thought that?!
And besides, you've been hiding things-
“Yes, I was lying to Ranma earlier to protect him and you, and I'm sure that's probably worthy of introspection, but my lies didn't wind up stranding my spouse twenty years in the past!”
“Should I be chargin' admission for this show?”
Akane tilted her head back down from the heavens to see Ranma –a large paper cup in his hand– looking down at her with a bemused expression.
Shaking her head ruefully, Akane set aside the stuffed pig and reached forward to take the cup. Once it was safely in her hand, she lifted it to her lips and took a long pull from the waxed paper container, savoring the simple refreshment of ice water. After having her fill, she wiped her lips with the sleeve of her denim jacket. “Sorry,” she croaked, “Either I'm having a disagreement with my guest or I'm going stark raving mad.” Waving her free hand at nothing, she added, “Whichever is more depressing, we'll go with that.”
Ranma moved to resume his place on the bench beside her, again slinging his arm possessively around her shoulders. As she scooted even closer to his body to leech as much warmth from his sturdy frame as possible, he snorted. “Don'tcha mean whichever is less depressin'?”
“No, because I'm in a dismal mood, and we're looking to make it more dismal.”
“So does that mean you want me to leave?”
Akane's agitated movements to burrow into Ranma's side like an enormous tick stilled at that. “...No.”
“Ah, well in that case I hafta leave, since me bein' here is clearly makin' you miserable, and we're supposed to be tryin' to make you happier.”
Detaching herself from his side only enough to be able to look him in the eyes, she waggled a free finger at him and his smug smile. “That doesn't make any sense! And don't you dare. You promised!”
The smugness eased. “Yeah, I did.” A beat. “Your 'guest'?”
Deflating rapidly, Akane reluctantly nodded before using the same free finger to tap her own temple. “Apparently she's been up here for some time, but it wasn't until this morning that I could actually start to hear her.” An eye-roll. “So to speak.”
Ranma nodded as he studied her like her head contained the secrets of the universe. “The feelings you were gettin' 'bout Ranko early on?”
Another reluctant nod. “Probably.”
He squinted at her slightly. “So who is she?”
Setting her lips into a thin line, Akane broke into a heated tirade. “Ah, well you see, that's another disagreement that we're having. She seems to think that she's some kind of mindless echo that just never learned to stop repeating itself, but I happen to think that she's too much of a pain in the butt to-”
I don't think he needs all
the particulars of this debate.
“Don't interrupt me like that while I'm talking to him, it's rude.”
You were talking about me like I'm not here.
That's even more rude!
“Half the time you aren't here! You always vanish off to silent la-la land until you can pop back in just in time to deliver sage wisdom!”
“Woah, hey, Tomboy,” Ranma interjected, squeezing her shoulder as he gave an apologetic smile. “I'm a little slow on the uptake, so try dumbin' things down for my sake please?”
Akane snorted and shook her head at him. “You just bragged earlier tonight about being a quick study. Now all of a sudden you're humble?”
“You got a real funny habit of makin' me doubt my abilities, Tomboy.”
Her heart melted at that, and she offered him a genuine smile of adoration. “Ranma, you're one of the most quick-thinking people I've ever met. I wouldn't be telling you any of this if you weren't.”
Ranma couldn't contain his proud grin at that. But only for a moment, then he coughed and lowered his voice half an octave to emphasize how serious he was trying to be. “We can talk sweet 'bout me much as you like later on, right now I'm tryin' to figure out your whole deal. So,” he angled his down to meet her eye-line directly, “Who do you think she is?”
Her anger and frustration quickly wilted under his calm, inquisitive gaze. “My counterpart.”
Ranma frowned. “You mean... like if Ranko suddenly got stuck in my head?”
A shrug. “Basically.” A beat. “She's chimed in a few times earlier today, helped me navigate some situations that only she would know about, including how to handle your mother.”
“But she don't think that 'bout herself?”
Akane worried her lip briefly. “She's concerned about the implications inherent to what her existence in this time period would mean for her family.”
Ranma's eyes unfocused briefly as he mentally chewed on that statement. Then both of his eyes resharpened onto her single good one. “Meanin' that if she's back here in the past, then that'd mean there ain't nobody lookin' after the twins in the future.”
That's my boy.
...good grief, that just sounds wrong.
Pointedly ignoring both sentiments, Akane nodded.
Quietly pensive, Ranma asked, “You tell any of this to Ranko?”
The waves of despair which had largely subsided renewed their torrential assault on her psyche, and she had to look down from those painfully familiar eyes. “After we came home from school today, I tried telling her.” She swallowed. “She was even more concerned about those implications.”
Awkward silence broken only by the distant noises of the slowly emptying park and the nearby babbling of the fountain rang out between them.
Then, with a dry voice, Ranma responded, “Yeah, I don't blame her.” A beat. “What was that I heard 'bout your guest gettin' Ranko stuck back here with a fib?”
Akane pressed her lips into as thin a line as she could. “Apparently she financed the beach house with a dodgy loan because it was the only one they could afford, and because of her...” Akane paused and rolled her eye up to the heavens once again, though out of embarrassment on her own behalf instead of pure frustration with her guest. “Because of our shared propensity to shield the ones we care about from uncomfortable truths...”
...Thanks.
“...She omitted that fact from Ranko until they were already up to their eyeballs in debt.”
When she rotated her head back down to look at Ranma, a noticeably more ashen face met her unfortunate eye. “So... Ranko's pet project of lookin' after cursed artifacts weren't just a hobby of hers...”
“It was a last-ditch effort to stave off bankruptcy, yes.”
Ranma turned his head back towards the rest of the park as various rides and booths began to shutter closed and power down as the park was winding up business for the night. Then he added, his eyes glassy and distant, “So Ranko got stuck back here in this time, your guest got stuck in your head, and we're stuck pickin' up all the pieces.”
Akane snorted mirthlessly. “Lucky us.”
A beat of more heavy silence.
Then Ranma returned his attention to her, along with the curious lifting of one of his eyebrows. “And the reason you were so miffed at her just earlier?”
Tugging at his arm around her shoulder so that she could get it to hold her a little more tightly, she growled. “Because she omitted it from me as well until I had the memory of her confession to Ranko which ruined our date just now.” She waved her hand hotly up at the merrily spinning Ferris Wheel as she added testily, “We should be enjoying the beautiful skyline of Tokyo from 40 meters up together, but instead we're talking about how I'm turning into an utter loon.”
Ranma gave a warm and honeyed chortle at that before squeezing her shoulder. “At least you've turned into a pretty cute loon.”
Ooooo, smooth.
An unexpected blast of molten heat hit Akane's cheeks, and she had to turn away from his easy and alluring smile. “Yo mama's a loon,” she groused.
Then she blinked as she realized what her desperate retort actually meant.
When she'd turned back to him, his good mood had dipped considerably. “She ain't...” The objection was soft-spoken, with no power or conviction, with fear and uncertainty gnawing at his already flagging resolve. “Look, I know you and Ranko both think she's liable to go completely 'round the bend, but if she shows up... give me a chance to try and talk with her first? Please.”
Reaching over the cover the hand on her shoulder with her own hand, Akane smiled reassuringly at him. “I'll let you give her as many chances as you want, Ranma.” Her face hardened. “But the second she draws her sword...”
He looked at her carefully before nodding reluctantly. Then he smirked. “And by-the-by, I get bein' miffed with your guest, 'specially since Ranko ain't said shit 'bout this dodgy loan business neither.”
Akane snorted derisively. “They really do deserve each other don't they?”
He hummed. “So what does that say 'bout us?”
This time it was Akane's turn for her good mood to flag under the ominous weight of possibility. “I think it means that if we're really going to try and make this work, we can't let ourselves think that hiding from the truth is going to protect either of us.”
Ranma looked at her thoughtfully before turning his gaze back away towards the rest of the park. “ 'Suppose so.”
A pang shot through Akane's heart at the thought of the conflict that must be raging just under the surface of his calm composure.
He has to admit it to himself
before he can admit it to you.
With supreme reluctance, Akane silently agreed with her guest, leaning her head against Ranma's shoulder and squeezing his hand under hers, letting her thumb rub an aimless pattern over his knuckles while she balanced her cup of ice water against the hem of her skirt between her thighs.
The nearby Ferris Wheel came to another halt. However, the entrance to that ride had already been roped off, so when the last occupants exited their gondolas, it stayed stationary, and likely would remain so for the rest of the night.
“Is yer guest still listenin' to all this?”
Akane nodded her head against Ranma's shoulder. “She can hear and see everything I can.” A minor eye-roll. “Supposedly she can try to give us privacy, but I think that just means that she holds her tongue for extended periods.”
Ranma gave an upsettingly smug hum. “If she really is your counterpart, then that's quite the sacrifice she's makin'.”
Hey!
Letting go of his hand, she instead reached over to poke him in his vulnerable midriff to defend both of their honors. “We don't talk that much.”
Another snort. “Drink yer water Tomboy, don't want your throat gettin' too parched.”
Grumbling, she brought the water cup up back up to her lips and did so until only the ice cubes remained.
A beat.
“You think maybe you could let 'er talk with me?”
She turned to look at him curiously. “You want to?”
Ranma smirked at her. “She's been listenin' in on us all this time, figured I should at least properly say hello to 'er.” The smirk faded, giving way to concern. “I mean, if you can.”
Akane worried her lip. “We haven't exactly figured that part out yet. I have an idea, but...”
We don't have to.
“No, we should try it” Akane softly countered. “Who knows what's going to happen tomorrow? If we're going to do this-”
Only if you're sure.
Akane snorted. “I'm not sure about any of this.” Then she refocused her gaze on her fiancé's curious eyes. “But Ranma's here for us if we need it.”
He smiled and nodded.
Okay.
But you might want to stop being so cuddly with
him, unless you want me to wake up in his arms.
Fresh heat ignited upon her face, and Akane squeaked an acknowledgment as she set down her water cup and gingerly scooted a respectable distance away from her fiancé, letting his arm fall away from her shoulders as she did so.
With sufficient propriety established, she offered Ranma one more smile.
Then Akane closed her eye.
Took a deep breath.
The world flipped end over end.
Not-Akane opened her good eye, blinking at the myriad of different sights and shapes and colors that were somehow all the more sharp and vivid now that she could choose what to focus on. Lifting her hand, she marveled at how the fine structures of bone and muscle and sinew once again reacted to her impulses after so much time in a featureless void, and she grinned at it.
“ 'Kane?”
Her attention was drawn back to their companion, and she beamed as she beheld a face she had not seen in a very long time.
At least not with such a sharp jawline.
“Hello Ranma,” she said with warmth and fondness, “And not quite, at least not your Akane.”
Visibly uncertain, Ranma hesitantly asked, “So... what do we call you?”
A very good question.
Not-Akane shook her head with a wry smile. “I haven't figured that one out yet either. You and Ranko were always so much better at that sort of thing, coming up with names and backstories on the fly for whichever silly con you were trying to run.” She hummed. “Honestly, I'm hoping that Cologne can sort me out and send Ranko back to our time before that becomes fully necessary.”
Ranma's brow furrowed. “Cologne?”
She grinned. “The old ghoul you're going to try and extort a favor out of tomorrow.” Another hum. “Ranko never forgave her for all the trials she put her through.”
Wait.
Shampoo? Mousse? Cologne?
Who the hell named them that?!
Not-Akane snorted and shook her head. When she'd let her mirth settle, she found Ranma staring at her curiously. “Sorry,” she explained, “Your Akane was suddenly very annoyed at the silliness of Nerima and the quirks of cross-cultural naming conventions.”
He tilted his head. “So she's still in there?”
“Of course, we only switched places.”
“And she can still come back?”
Not-Akane nodded. “I think so, I have a pretty good idea of what she did with me.” She smiled. “But you wanted to talk with me, didn't you?”
Ranma, apparently unimpressed with her expression of goodwill, crossed his arms and leaned back away from her. “Yeah actually. Care to 'splain why you decided to keep that dodgy loan business under your hat 'till just now?” His brow arched. “Might've been helpful if we'd known that up front.”
Dropping the smile, Not-Akane narrowed her eye at him. “Frankly, I don't see how it possibly could have, since LIBOR interest rates have nothing to do with ancient Chinese curses. The mortgage problem only affects Ranko and,” she paused, her eye darting off to the side as she stopped herself from stepping into the obvious pitfall of her situation, “...my family.”
“So you ain't even gonna try to fix your own mess? Just leave it all fer me and 'Kane to clean up?”
To match Ranma's visible wariness of her, Not-Akane crossed her arms across her chest–
–and goodness, she really had been smaller there before the pregnancy, hadn't she?
…
A very curious taste tickled the back of her tongue, but she didn't have time to focus on it. “I've had conscious thought for maybe a day.” Raising a hand from her chest and splaying out her fingers a couple of times for good measure, she added, “This is the first time since the displacement that I've literally been able to lift a finger.”
Are we not counting –
“No, we're not,” she interrupted testily. “My point being, my options for helping have been extremely limited. All I've been able to do until now is pointing out to your Akane when she's about to step into a bear-trap.”
Ranma drolly lifted his brow at her. “Not knowin' why the heck Ranko's been so cagey since she got here don't count as one of them traps?”
Not-Akane couldn't meet Ranma's gaze at that. “She has her reasons for being cautious. And if I had to guess, I'd say that she still thinks this is all her fault.” She shook her head sharply. “It's not.” A beat of quiet shame. “It's mine. You're right to be angry at needing to 'pick up all the pieces' of my sins. But I can't do anything more to fix this while I'm still shackled to a body that doesn't belong to me.”
After studying her carefully, Ranma finally nodded, easing his arms from across his chest. “ 'Suppose not.”
Relief eased the dire expression on her face, and Not-Akane closed her eye and drew in a deep breath to cleanse herself of some of the stress that had been lashing at her temples. As she did so, she delighted in the simple pleasure of cool air in her lungs, of the feel of fabric against her skin, and when she opened her eye, she looked up at the brilliant night sky to behold–
...a lot of light pollution. Barely a handful of stars could be seen at all, and one of those just turned out to be the running lights of an airliner.
Gods, but she wanted to go home.
Shaking her head to regain focus, she looked back down at Ranma and again offered him a smile that was only slightly wry. “Well then, is there something else you'd like to ask me? Maybe something about what my family's life is like when we're not trying to stave off financial ruin?”
Ranma gulped before nodding at her. “Can... can you tell me more 'bout the twins? Stuff that 'Kane ain't remembered yet?”
Tilting her head at the younger version of her love, Not-Akane grinned. “You really are eager to learn about them, aren't you?”
Another nod. “I ain't gonna get to meet them, 'least not in this coin-flip whatchamacalit, but even so...” He shrugged quietly, looking down slightly at the denim jacket she was wearing. “They're a part of me.” A short beat, and then he looked back up into her eyes. “A part of what me 'n her could be.”
Ah, there it was, the bleeding-heart romantic at the core of her lover. How she adored it so. “True,” Not-Akane admitted with a bright smile. “Your Akane was right earlier, Nori really does take after you. She's captain of her soccer team, actually.”
A proud, misty-eyed smile broke apart Ranma's face. “Yeah?”
Not-Akane nodded with no less pride. “She commits herself totally to victory, even if it means skinning her knees or staining her distressingly expensive uniform with fifteen kinds of mud. Her team hasn't lost a single game since she joined.”
The mistiness in Ranma's eyes increased, threatening to spill over the levees of his eyelids. “Atta girl.” But then he seemed to realize how unmanly such a sight must look, and he blinked rapidly before clearing his throat. “And what 'bout Tsuki? 'Kane said she takes after you?”
Another hum. “I don't think that the car crash played as big a role in that dynamic as your Akane seems to, but yes, she's really focused herself on being an artist. She's more than capable during her cross-country runs, but she's really proud when I pin her poems and drawings to the refrigerator.”
Ranma frowned. “They don't play sports together?”
Not-Akane's smile gentled into something less certain of itself. “I thought it was important for the two of them to find their own uniqueness, to not just be a mirror of the other.” She rolled her eyes-
Ow.
“Damn it, this eye patch is annoying,” she grumbled as she reached up to adjust it across her face.
You get used to it.
“I'd rather not, thank you.” Refocusing on Ranma, she resumed her sheepish explanation. “But of course, encouraging the girls to be their own people hasn't come without hiccups. Your Akane already told you about the argument I had with Nori about learning the art.” She let her gaze fall to the space on the bench between them. “But it's not the only argument we've had.”
A beat of silence fell between them.
“I know that 'Kane pretty much despises my Pops,” Ranma unexpectedly explained with an oddly somber tone.
No pretty much about it.
Deaf to her counterpart's grousing, Ranma continued, “Do you happen to think any better of him?”
Not-Akane lifted her head back up to favor Ranma with a flat stare. “Not very.”
Another beat of silence.
“He had his fair share of arguments with me too, now nobody don't look kindly on him.” Then Ranma pinned her down with a stare. “If you do wind up makin' it back to your time, remember that when you get into another argument with Nori.”
Please do.
Unable to meet either the suddenly harsh gaze of Ranma or the concurring ire of her counterpart, Not-Akane could only nod guiltily back down at the bench. “I'll try.”
The sound of a bell chiming caught her attention, and Not-Akane looked off to the side where even more parts of the park had already shuttered for the night. “The park is going to close soon. You need to get going, and I should probably switch places back with your Akane.”
“Hang on,” Ranma interrupted, and Not-Akane turned to see him looking at her with concern. “How much of all this do you want us to tell Ranko?”
Not-Akane blanched. “None of it.”
Ranma's brow furrowed. “But 'Kane just got through with saying how we outta be-”
“Yes yes, open truthfulness, that's very important for the two of you, but Ranko is my wife!” Not-Akane jabbed a thumb into her sternum. “And she damned near went into a full spiral of panic when your Akane tried telling her about me even after I begged her not to!”
The brow furrowed even further. “Ranko seemed perfectly fine at dinner.”
Taking her turn to pin the boy down with her own piercing stare, Not-Akane intoned meaningfully, “She's very good at hiding her true feelings from everyone else except me.”
He gulped. “I-uh, I'll k-keep that in mind.”
“Please do.”
When she was satisfied that he'd gotten the point, Not-Akane nodded to herself. Then she eased her expression into something more contrite but utterly resolved. “If the chance comes, then I will fix this mess. But until then, please bear with me for a little while longer.” She smirked apologetically. “And also try not to be too hard on Ranko.”
After studying her for a beat, he reluctantly nodded. “I'll try.”
She smiled, relieved. “Thank you.” Then she closed her good eye. “You ready?”
Ready.
Not-Akane took in a sharp breath, savoring the crisp taste of Nerima in autumn on her own tongue one more time.
The world flipped back over on itself.
Akane blinked her eye open.
And the first thing she saw was Ranma's relieved face. “Welcome back.”
Akane gave a slightly nervous chuckle. “How could you tell?”
“Her eye is a slightly different color amber than yours, it don't catch the light quite the same.”
She snorted even as she scooted closer to him, his arm quickly snaking back around her shoulders. “Irises don't spontaneously change pigmentation like that, Ranma.”
A smug hum answered her. “If you say so.” A beat. “She was right though, we prolly ought to get goin'.”
Savoring his warmth for just a few seconds longer, she drew in a breath and nodded.
He squeezed her shoulder one more time. Then he was standing up and collecting Quacky under his left arm and her mostly-empty water cup with his left hand. At the same time, she turned and snatched Mr. Pocoroso back into her arms. When they had both secured all their belongings, Akane looped her free arm back into his and let him begin leading them both towards the exits.
“I'm sorry again for ruining your perfect date night,” She lamented mournfully.
“Don't be,” he assured her before snorting. “What was it you said the other night when we first tried to read in Sayu on all this? Too much ground to cover?” He gave a wry chuff. “You ain't the only one who can have a bit of wishful thinkin'.”
Nodding easily, Akane tried to push ahead. “But even still, you went to all this trouble of planning-”
“Not so fast, Ranma Saotome!”
That voice...
Akane and Ranma uncoupled their arms and both turned around to see none other than Ryoga standing close to where they had been sitting by the fountain, a very badly-fitting coat draped over his shoulders, a pair of baggy pants cinched around his waist, and cloth bandages still encircling his otherwise bare chest.
He looks so odd without his headband.
Ryoga raised his fist at them and growled, “We have unfinished business, you and I.”
Ranma stiffened his back. “I'll handle this, 'Kane,” he told her sotto voce as he handed over Quacky to her and set down the water cup.
“Ranma,” she implored, “Please be careful.”
He only flashed her a quick and charming grin before squaring himself up and marching over towards the fountain.
When he and Ryoga were only a meter apart, he stopped.
The animosity between the two arced like electricity from a rogue generator.
Then Ranma smirked. “Hey there Ryoga, been a while.”
Ryoga gave a derisive harumph. “For you, maybe. For me, there hasn't been a single day since you betrayed me that I haven't thought of reclaiming my honor from your broken body.” He clenched his already balled fists even tighter. “And despite some setbacks, I'm here now, ready to take back what you stole from me.”
Ranma nodded. “Well in that case, let me make things easy on you.”
With a flash of sudden movement–
...he extended his hand between them, palm open and unthreatening.
Ryoga's brow furrowed at the gesture. “What's this?”
“An apology.” Ranma shrugged. “I ditched on that duel I promised you. I stopped takin' you to school even after I promised to help you. I even beat you up for all those sweetbuns just 'cause I wanted 'em. I owe you.”
Another harrumph. “So you remember your crimes then.”
Ranma nodded with a small grin. “I helped take you to school over three hundred times man, I ain't forgettin' that.'
Akane bit down on her tongue almost hard enough to draw blood.
Then he looked down, his outstretched hand drooping noticeably. “What happened 'tween us... My pops, he... he caused some of it. I weren't strong 'nough to stop him. Weren't brave 'nough.” He shook his head. “But the rest of it is just on me. You got every right to hate me for the things I did. And I can't give nothin' to make up for it 'cept for an offer.”
Slowly unclenching his fists and crossing his arms just under his bandaged chest, Ryoga arched a brow. “I'm listening.”
Ranma gave a hopeful smile. “Let me take you wherever you need to go again. I'll bet good money that it's been a while since you saw Shirokuro, she'll be pleased as punch to see ya. And if you ever find yerself without somethin' decent to eat, let me cook somethin' up for you.” Proudly tapping his vest-covered chest, Ranma elaborated, “Not just sweetbuns, but stuff that I'll make for ya.”
“You know how to cook?”
Ranma nodded before dourly adding, “Somethin' else to blame the old man for.”
Ryoga grunted. “And how long will this offer of yours last?”
Smiling easily, Ranma answered, “Long as you need it.” The smile faltered, and he turned away from Ryoga to look back at Akane with quiet despair. “I can't promise I'll be in town very long, not while I got other people I haveta do right by.” Shaking his head, he resumed looking back at Ryoga with a hopeful expression. “But anytime you swing by my neighborhood, wherever that turns out to be... I'm yours.”
A long, silent beat fell between them.
Only a light gusting of the chilly wind broke the tense mood.
Looking down at the outstretched hand, Ryoga finally chuffed ruefully with an incredulous shake of his head. “I'm not blind, Ranma. I've seen some of the strange things that have happened around here lately. And how a beautiful, caring woman like Miss Ranko grew out of the manure of a cowardly bastard like you, I'll never know.” Then he looked back up at Ranma, and his face became quietly serious. “But if there's even a single seed of that grace inside you... then I have no choice but to accept.”
He uncurled an arm from under his chest and extended his hand to meet Ranma's.
They shook.
And a tremendous smile of relief stole over Akane's face.
Setting down both Quacky and Pocoroso down on a clean section of the pavilion, she stepped up towards Ranma's side and bowed respectfully before her former opponent. “Hello, Ryoga. It's nice to finally meet you off the field of battle.” A bald-faced lie, but hopefully one she would get to remedy sooner rather than later when she could convince the lost boy to confess his inconvenient curse to Ranma.
Ryoga let go of Ranma's hand and turned to fully face her. “Ah, Miss Akane, the woman who bested me in combat.”
Dourly meeting his intense gaze, Akane arched a challenging brow. “No hard feelings, I hope?”
After only a few seconds, Ryoga's hard gaze eased off with a small shake of his head. “You were defending a cherished friend. There are precious few intentions more honorable than that.”
Akane happily let her brow relax and a small smile crease her cheeks. “I'm glad you see it that way, and I'm even more glad to see you accepting Ranma's apology like that.” She let her eye dart down for a moment as she considered something. This was a crucial moment for the three of them, she could feel it. Grudging respect could only last for so long. If they were going to truly secure his loyalty and bring the violence of their conflict to a permanent end, she needed to put something on the line as well.
Unslinging her purse from around her side, she opened it and reached into a particular compartment. “Although there are several intentions more honorable than seeking revenge, to show you that there are no hard feelings on my end either, allow me to make you my own offer.” She pulled out Ryoga's harmlessly folded bandanna and extended it to him. Yes, by surrendering her most potent weapon, she would be disarmed for the upcoming battle the next day, but this was more important. “You dropped this.”
Ryoga looked down at the yellow and black checkered cloth for only a short beat before he smirked and shook his head. “You have proven yourself more than worthy to wield that gift.” Casting an odd but intense look at Ranma beside her, he added softly, “And I don't believe that I have need of it any longer.”
Beaming, Akane returned the bandanna to its impromptu holster in her purse and re-shouldered it. “Thank you, Ryoga.”
A distressingly charming smile suddenly stole over his face, and he stepped forward to earnestly take her hand. “If you truly wish to thank me, then consider it a token of my adoration for a singular beauty and a worthy adversary.”
WHAT.
“Uh, Ryoga,” Ranma interjected quickly, “I'm glad we made up an' all, but maybe you ain't noticed yet: Me and 'Kane here are on a date right now.”
Turning to face Ranma, Ryoga raised a challenging brow. “And what of it? I've also seen how Miss Akane's heart is far too big and noble for any one man or woman to claim all of it. Surely you don't think yourself singularly worthy of such a prize.”
Oh gods, he was still moon-eyed about Ranko's explanation of his counterpart's role in her family! And he'd also been in the room with Ranko when she'd brought Sayuri home hadn't he?! As she watched the fiery spark of indignity reignite in Ryoga's eyes while he balefully stared down Ranma, Akane was mortified to realize that the lost boy now considered her fiancé as a rival in love instead of in vengeance.
“R-ryoga,” she stammered uncomfortably, “I'm flattered, but-”
Instantly turning back to her with veritable sparkles in his eyes, he quietly but intensely enthused, “You are? Then there's hope for us yet Miss Akane!” Again holding up her hand between them, he began gushing. “I know now that you may never be satisfied with just one lover, but if you could see fit to open your heart up to the possibility of what we might become as well, then happiness the likes of which not even the gods can conceive of would await us!”
Trying to back up away from his advances, Akane tried to defuse the situation by frantically interjecting, “Don't you think you're skipping a few steps?!”
“Why bother with trifling details when the joyous end goal is already in sight?” A blush stole over his face as he continued to match her retreat with his advances. “A-and with a strength such as yours and a resilience such as mine, then maybe we might even someday soon raise children of our own who would be utterly unstoppable! We could even– ”
He was interrupted by the sound of splashing water.
The next thing she knew, the only thing in front of her was a pile of sopping wet clothes on top of which lay a small black piglet, wrapped in tiny little cloth bandages, blinking up at her in stupefaction.
Ranma discarded the wax paper cup that Akane had been using earlier in the direction of the nearby water fountain before reaching down. “I really am sorry for all the ways I done wrong by you, Ryoga,” Ranma said contritely before picking up the drenched piglet by the scruff of its neck and looking it in the eye dourly. “But if yer gonna act like a pig, you may as well look the part.”
Seconds later, the piglet began furiously squirming and trying to bite at Ranma, but Akane could only stare disbelievingly at her fiancé. “Ranma, how did you know about his curse?”
Keeping the piglet safely out of biting range, Ranma gave Akane an embarrassed little grin. “The other night, when P-chan here wanted a bath, I heard somethin' in the next-door furo.” A shrug. “Your house really does have thin walls, y'know?”
Akane blinked before shaking her head in disbelief.
But really, of all the utterly ludicrous revelations from that night, it didn't even rank in the top five.
“I suppose we should take him back home to Ranko,” she groused, “He'll get hypothermia in this windchill if we leave him out here.” Stepping back to where she'd laid down the plushies, she picked up Mr. Pocoroso. Then she returned to Ranma's side and held out the stuffed pig underneath the live one. “Let me carry him.”
Ranma did not immediately let go of his enraged captive. “You sure you trust the lil' perv?”
She rolled her eye. “I'd rather not have him try to bite you all the way back home.”
Her fiancé grunted an acknowledgement before he turned the piglet around so that it was facing him once again and waggled a finger in its face. “No funny business with 'Kane, got it pal?”
The piglet swung itself forward and bit the finger.
Hissing in pain, Ranma dropped the piglet.
Akane was quick to catch it atop Mr. Pocoroso and cradle them both close to her chest. But she also added sternly, “You heard Ranma, don't go getting any ideas because of this!”
The piglet huffed indignantly before burrowing into the plushie.
Akane rolled her eye before looking back at Ranma, the brave, cunning, and brilliantly kind person that she was both proud and grateful to consider her boyfriend. “Let's go home.”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Beside a garden wall
When stars are bright
You are in my arms
The nightingale tells his fairy tale
Of paradise where roses grew
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
With a dried piglet wrapped in a towel held up by one hand, Akane gave her customary double-knock on the door of her old bedroom with the other. However, despite the very late hour, she didn't wait for an acknowledgement before opening the portal and slipping inside.
“Tomboy,” Ranko croaked with an annoyed voice in the darkness of the room as she fumbled about for something, “It's late, and I told you already we could have that talk tomorrow.” After some fiddling, the reading light on the desk flared to life, bathing the room in a muted yellow light and revealing Ranko half-sat in bed, wearing a modest set of purple-striped pajamas and rubbing the sleep from her eyes . “And besides, I really don't think it's a smart idea for us to-” When Ranko's bleary gaze finally focused on Akane and her passenger, the objection died a quick death on her tongue. She chuffed before smiling softly. “Hey there big guy.”
Moving forward to take her customary seat at the writing desk, Akane offered the older woman a sympathetic shrug. “Ranma and I ran into him as we were starting to head home from our date. Ranma apologized for all the bad blood between them, and Ryoga here was kind enough to accept.” She then lifted the piglet up to her eye-line and glared into its beady orbs. “But when I tried to offer my own apology for my role in our fight, he somehow took that to mean Let's have a dozen kids together immediately.”
If she didn't know any better, she could swear that the piglet was blushing.
“Oh buddy, no...” Ranko groaned piteously. “Weren't you listening to me when I said you needed to give stuff like this time to cook?”
Setting the burrito-wrapped piglet back down in her lap, Akane arched an unamused brow. “Apparently he thought he was charming enough to take a shortcut past all that.”
Ranko shook her head in fond dismay. “Something else to work on, I see.” Her brow quirked. “When did you transform him?”
“I didn't. Ranma had already discovered his secret on his own, and when Ryoga started getting a little too enthusiastic with his proposal, Ranma intervened.”
Ranko grinned at her. “Well at least now we can finally put the secret of P-Chan to rest.” Then she looked down at the piglet. “Since you're already here, did you want to spend one more night with me, big guy?” She moved her pillow down towards the middle of the bed, close to Ranko's legs, and patted it. “I got your bed ready for ya.”
The piglet chirped before nodding its head.
After Ranko had accepted the piglet from Akane into her own lap, she eyed her curiously. “How'd the rest of the date go?”
Carefully studying the woman her conspicuously silent guest considered as a beloved wife, a woman whose trust she'd betrayed and for whose future she was fully prepared to fight to make good that betrayal, Akane kept her gaze as neutral as possible. “Mostly good, just a few hiccups.” She smiled softly. “But the night isn't quite over yet.”
Ranko nodded. “Then I'll let you get back to it.” She looked down from Akane's face, a quiet air of shame about her. “And tomorrow morning we'll have that talk you wanted.”
Akane's heart clenched into her throat at the sight of it, and she couldn't contain the instinct to comfort the other woman clawing at her ribcage like a trapped bear any longer. “You're a good person, Ranko.”
The shameful defeat on Ranko's face did not abate at that. “It ain't that simple Tomboy, and you know it.” She shook her head sharply before forcing an obvious smile. “Don't worry about me, go finish your date with Ranma. I'll see you in the morning.”
Akane finally relented with a somber nod. “Good night, Ranko.” She waggled a finger down at the piglet. “And no trying to wake me up in the middle of the night, got it?”
The piglet snorted, but otherwise remained quiescent in Ranko's lap.
Nodding, Akane rose and made her way out of her old bedroom.
When she'd closed the door behind her and was once again standing alone in the darkened upper hallway, Akane sucked in a deep breath to steady her nerves.
Thank you.
For not telling her.
“We're going to have to make her see the truth at some point.”
Just get through tomorrow first.
Then we'll settle things.
But Ranma is still waiting.
She nodded, then began making her way towards the stairs.
When she'd touched down in the darkened landing, only the light of the nearly full moon streaming in through the open patio door illuminated her steps.
Akane frowned at the sight of it. She'd asked Ranma to meet her in their bedroom, and Soun was very fastidious about making sure that door was closed at the end of the night. So who could be out there?
Padding through the empty sitting room, she paused at the threshold of the patio to see...
...Ranma, his hands in the pockets of his dress slacks, standing in front of the still Koi pond and looking up at the brilliant sight of the moon in almost all of its glowing ivory glory, the lazy branches of the willow tree waving nearby in easy ripples with the light wind.
Something about the sight of him quietly lost in thought like that called to something deep and primal inside of her. It evoked a yearning as powerful as any she'd experienced with Ranko or Sayuri, a need to burrow into his chest and stay there for all time.
With a smile radiating more joy than the light of the moon itself, Akane stepped out onto the patio, onto the short stone path that led from it to the Koi pond, and onto the very same stone that Ranma was standing upon.
She didn't announce her presence to him. She didn't need to.
Snaking her arms around his sides, Akane embraced him from behind, slowly molding herself to his backside and hooking her hands together atop his lower torso. “I thought I asked you to meet me in our room.”
Ranma said nothing at first.
Then he chuffed before pulling his hands out of his pockets and laying them to rest over hers atop his stomach. “The moon's awful pretty tonight,” he mused absently, distantly, as though he were standing upon the distant orb that very moment. “Seemed like a shame not to take a minute to 'preciate it.”
Nuzzling her head into his back, Akane couldn't see the moon in question.
She was too busy appreciating something awful pretty of her own.
“Thank you for not trying to fight Ryoga, for offering him that apology.”
Ranma snorted softly. “Poor guy was still busted up from your fight with him, a stiff breeze would've toppled him.” A beat. “And I really did owe him an apology, at least that much.”
Squeezing her arms around him slightly, she shook her head. “Sometimes I worry you think a little too much about what you owe other people.”
“Better that than the opposite.”
Akane grinned at that. “Maybe.” Then she shook her head, her cheek rubbing against the crimson linen of his vest. “We can debate it later. Right now, I just want to go to bed.”
A beat. “You go ahead, I still need to sort some things out.”
Her brow furrowed. “You could sort things out someplace much warmer, like our bedroll.”
“...Just a few minutes, Tomboy. You don't need to freeze your butt off for me.”
A sense of calmness came over Akane.
It's time.
Past time, really. “Are you afraid that my father is going to object to you sharing my sleeping roll in your birth form?”
Her companion stiffened in her embrace, breath trapped within suddenly clenched lungs.
“Ranma,” Akane took in a steadying breath before revealing, “I know that the glitch isn't real.” Ranma was deathly still beneath her, but she continued regardless. “You promised to give me a memory of my own, of you as a Man-Amongst-Men. And even if it didn't go strictly to plan, you did. I treasure our time together on that carousel, playing those games, talking about the twins... all of it, with all my heart.” She squeezed Ranma's midsection one more time before she began withdrawing her arms. Then she detached from the welcoming backside and stepped up to her side, turning her gently so that Akane could look her girlfriend in the eye. Beaming up at her, she quietly enthused, “Now it's time to make even more memories with the rest of you.”
Ranma could only shrug her shoulders at Akane helplessly. “What do you want from me tomboy?”
“I want you to be happy.”
“You make me happy.” Her lower lip began trembling. “Ain't that enough?”
Akane shook her head gently, remorsefully. “No, I'm sorry, but it is not.” Her gaze fell towards Ranma's chest, still flat and broad and powerful, but containing within a heart more fragile and precious than any Fabergé egg. “I don't know what else might happen with my visions, Ranma. Maybe I really will wind up getting lost in them... or maybe something will happen tomorrow that I don't walk away from, or maybe something like what happened to Ranko will happen to you too and leave you stranded somewhere.” She shook her head again. “If anything like that happens... I'll still want you to be happy in your own skin.”
“But that could take years, tomboy,” Ranma very nearly whimpered, tears starting to cloud her eyes. “It took Ranko better part of a decade 'fore she started lookin' the part. And you saw what happened when she weren't able to hold down a steady job. You don't deserve to be saddled with some broke flat-assed ladyboy all that time. You deserve the real deal.”
Beaming even as her own eye began to mist over, Akane chastised her softly, “Dummy.” Then she reached up to cradle Ranma's cheek in her hand. “You are the real deal.”
Closing her eyes and letting the tears finally fall down her cheeks, one of which tracked right over Akane's fingers, Ranma could only whisper out in a quiet surrender, “ 'Kane...”
Akane said nothing, simply stroking her thumb across the smooth plane of skin.
When she released her girlfriend's face, Akane brought one of her hands down to settle onto the belt of the dress slacks, while taking Ranma's hand in the other. Squeezing it, she asked softly, “Were you thinking about choosing a new name?”
A beat.
“...Shigeri.”
Beaming, Akane elaborated, “A name with a dozen different meanings in a dozen different contexts, each its own facet in a priceless jewel, none any more or less true than the other.”
Shigeri grinned a little even as tears still streamed down her cheeks. “Yeah? I just kinda liked the sound of it earlier at dinner.” She snorted with a fond smirk. “Plus it'll annoy Sayu.”
Akane hummed. “Yes, it will. But I also think that it'll secretly please her.” A thoughtful pause. “And also... I think Ri-chan has a nice ring to it, don't you?”
Shigeri rolled her eyes with a small groan of frustration. “We really gotta teach you how to name things better, Tomboy.”
Grinning, Akane wiggled her hips and held herself closer to Shigeri's body. “I didn't hear a no...”
Another sigh, rising out of the chasm between crushing defeat and fond adoration, answered her taunting. “Only you get to call me that, and only when we're alone.
Happily, Akane nodded.
Shigeri's matching expression of joy only lasted for seconds before she again began to buckle underneath the weight of uncertainty. “I still ain't sure that it's the right choice, that I want to give up Ranma just yet...” She swallowed. “That I'm ready for everything that's gonna come with this.”
Raising her chin in defiance of the laws of man and the tides of ocean and the very concept of fate, Akane resolutely declared, “Well then, if and when you change your mind, we'll adapt. And we'll keep adapting.” She flashed her girlfriend a rakish grin. “Anything Goes, right?”
“Tomboy,” Shigeri tried to chastise her, something which was fairly ruined by giggles bubbling up out of her throat, “You ain't...” Unable to finish the retort, she instead gave up, shaking her head in fond dismay, her pigtail shaking behind her.
She doesn't need that whisker anymore.
Although Akane wasn't quite sure what exact significance the odd string holding together Shigeri's hair together truly held, she trusted her guest's assessment of its obsolescence. Slowly reaching up, she gently laid her hand on Shigeri's cheek and turned it until she was looking away from her at the moon, her pigtail within easy reach.
With a few quick tugs, she was able to unravel the string from its tight coil, and Shigeri's hair came tumbling down, falling to some point on her back. Curtains of raven-black hair now framed her blushing face, and Akane found herself entranced by the sight of it. “Beautiful,” she breathed.
Shigeri grinned down at her. “That's my line, tomboy.”
Akane shook her head decisively and countered, “Maybe later, but not tonight it isn't. Tonight, you're all mine.” Then she beamed up at her, reaching up with the hand resting on her belt to cup her cheek once more. “I'm glad I finally got to meet you, Shigeri Saotome.”
Looking down at her with nothing less than unvarnished love in her eyes, Shigeri answered, “Likewise, Tomboy.”
Then, lifting herself onto her tiptoes, Akane pulled Shigeri's face down just enough to kiss her under the light of the moon, under the swaying cover of the willow tree, and under the patiently watchful gaze of an entire school of peaceful Koi fish.
And a piranha.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Though I dream in vain
In my heart it will remain
My stardust melody
The memory of love's refrain
