Dull eyes scanned a room filled with stuffed animals, pictures, and other assorted items not unusual for a girl’s bedroom in search of an object that would serve a certain purpose. Bed, window, dresser. On the dresser, hairbrush, school books, picture frame, clothing…picture frame. Or, more specifically, the glass in the picture frame. If correctly handled, the glass would do perfectly without arousing any suspicion. The girl with the dull brown eyes and short, blue-black hair strode forward and picked up the frame. Looking down at the picture, the irony of the situation almost made the girl smile. Almost. The picture was taken on Toma’s island, Togenkeo, and it illustrated, once again, how great an actress she really was. Or only perhaps how unnoticed. Either way, the girl in the picture and the one who held it were two totally different people. The one acted as a flashy disguise to shield the other. Reality: Akane Tendo was not the person she pretended to be. Oh, maybe she had once been that brash, easily predicted tomboy, but that carefree predictability had been destroyed slowly as days of neglect and loneliness had turned into years. Or had it happened suddenly, like the shattering of glass? Who knew? What did that matter, anyway? The fact was that it had been done, and the result was a person who didn’t feel, couldn’t love. What is love to the unloved? A word, a thought, a silly notion of warmth and happiness, both of which didn’t exist. Akane looked at the picture once more before turning it over and deftly removing the picture and glass. The picture disregarded, she stared at the glass.
"It’s so perfect…" she murmured, stroking the surface fondly. Even as this thought formed on her lips, time pressed her, urging her to complete her test. Akane clasped the glass length wise and pulled her hands together, as if to fold the glass in half. As intended, the glass shattered, leaving two large pieces and several smaller ones. Laying aside the piece in her left hand, Akane felt the right one for its sharpest point. Finding the point, she drew it across her left hand, watching with morbid fascination as blood filled the cut and fell to the floor. Breathing calmly, she raised her hand and allowed the blood to flow down her arm, unchecked. She bent her head and saw the small pool of crimson staining her otherwise unmarred carpet.
"Akane! Dinner!"
Kasumi’s voice shattered the still gloom of Akane’s room and she called back, with much more life than her face showed,
"All right, Kasumi! I’m coming!"
Turning her gaze back to her bleeding hand, she murmured, indifferently, "This is proof. I live, still."
Dinner that evening passed much as Akane had predicted. After her final comment, Akane had gone to the bathroom to clean and bandage her cut. Though well dressed, her hand was not unnoticeable, and so, when asked, she blushed as she should, ducked her head, mumbled something about dropping a picture, and said that she hadn’t been cut badly. Ranma, as par usual, made a comment about dumb clumsy tomboys and was then compelled by Akane to take a nap. Under a very large mallet. In the commotion, no one noticed that the young Tendo ate hardly anything. After a few moments of pretending to shovel food into her mouth, Akane excused herself and went back upstairs. After a quick stop at the bathroom to get some water and towels, she closed herself in her room, sat by her blood, and began scrubbing in up. It wouldn’t due to have Kasumi come in and find a puddle of her dried blood on the carpet. Kasumi hated blood.
Ranma woke a few minutes after Akane finished in her room to find himself alone by the table, all traces of food inhaled by his father. Gingerly, the boy sat up and rubbed his head.
"Stupid Tomboy." he grumbled. "’S her fault that Pop ate all the food. Stupid, stupid Tomboy. And now I’m hungry and there’s nothin’ ta eat." Getting up, Ranma went to the kitchen with the comment, "Well, maybe there’s somthin’ to eat in here." After the desired something had been found and consumed, several desired somethings, actually, Ranma headed up stares to do his second most favorite thing: sleep. As he passed Akane’s door, he felt the strong need to stop and stare at her duck-name door-plate. All it said was "Akane" but that simple word was enough to stir up a hurricane of emotions. First and foremost was anger. It was her fault that he had almost gone hungry that night. Why did she always have to over react? It wasn’t as if he were lying. No, all the things he said were 100% truth. She was a clumsy tomboy, and it was dumb of her to cut herself picking up the glass. About to walk away, Ranma heard muffled cries coming from Akane’s room. Slightly worried, he opened her door a crack and peered in. The girl lay on her bed, throwing her arms and legs about in a fitful sleep. Shaking his head, Ranma was about to leave when Akane did something he had never seen before. She rolled over onto her side and curled in on herself, her breathing becoming shallow and rapid. Her eyes were half open and disturbingly empty. Her lips moved, forming inaudible words. Ranma knew something was wrong. Striding quickly across the room, Ranma didn’t notice the glass until it was almost to late. At the last possible moment, moonlight caught the edge of a few of the pieces, and Ranma saw them glisten. Sidestepping, he stopped and looked down. The arrangement of the glass confused him, so he knelt by the glass and picked up a shard. < If the picture had fallen or been pushed off her dresser, > he reasoned, turning the glass to catch the moonlight, < it wouldn’t have shattered like this. > Here he picked up the picture frame. < It would have cracked in the frame. Why isn’t there any glass in the frame? There should be some glass still in the frame. There isn’t any glass dust on the picture, either. Even if she meant to break it…she would have had to take the glass out to do this. Why did she…? > Akane moaned in her bed and Ranma was reminded of the original reason for coming into this room. Putting the glass and frame back where he had found them, Ranma stood and went over to Akane. Her breathing had become more erratic and her eyes were glazed in fear, though her mouth was now still. Suddenly terrified for her, Ranma put a hand on her up turned shoulder and shook, calling quietly,
"Akane! Akane, wake up!" His voice became progressively louder and his shaking harsher until her eyes cleared and she looked up at him.
"R-Ranma?" She sat up. "What are you doing here?" Her eyes darted around wildly. "Where am I?" Her eyes met his and he shivered though it was not cold. "Am I…dead?" Suddenly, Ranma found himself able to speak.
"Of course you’re not dead!" He cried, shaking her again in alarm. "You’re in your room. You were having a nightmare so I woke you up." Akane looked down at her hand, which had bled through the bandage.
"He’s right." She murmured. "This is not Death." Ranma fidgeted nervously as Akane stared at her hand passively. Just as Ranma was about to question the glass from the picture, Akane sighed. Looking up at him, she said, "Thank you for waking me up from that…nightmare, Ranma, but I think you’d better go before one of our fathers finds out you’re here." Ranma stared at her a few moments more before leaving wordlessly. He was not fooled. Something was going on here, something that was very bad for Akane. For some reason, Akane had taken the glass out of a picture, shattered it, and either accidentally or purposefully cut herself, rather badly if it had soaked through its bandage. Ranma stopped just outside Akane’s room and stared at the duck again. "I swear, Akane," he whispered, "I swear on my honor, I will find out what you’re doing. And when I do, I’ll stop it. No matter what I have to do, I’ll stop it." Turning finally, Ranma went to his room and slept lightly, always listening for sounds of pain or fear from the room down the hall.
While Ranma’s sleep may have been light and fitful, Akane’s had been non-existent. After he left her room, she got up and sat at her desk, looking out the window.
< It’s back. > she thought. She looked down at her hand. < That dream…maybe that’s why I have to…to do this…to myself. > She clutched her hand and chuckled grimly. < Poor Ranma. He must have thought I was crazy. > Something flashed in her eyes and she looked at her hand again. < Maybe I am crazy. I cut myself to convince myself that I’m still alive. No sane person would do that. > She grabbed the end of her bandage and began to slowly unravel it. < But…but even if I am crazy… especially if I’m crazy… > The red bandage fluttered to the floor and Akane stared at her cut hand. < What’s my purpose? Why am I here? Surly I’m not meant only for this. To live, day by day, unloved, unnoticed except if I’m kidnapped. Maybe…maybe if I died, then…but no. I won’t give up. > She clenched her hands. < I won’t ever give up. Someone cares for me. I’m sure of it. At least… > She sighed and rested her head on the desk, waiting for dawn. < I hope so. >
The next morning Akane descended the stares with a reserved countenance. It was five thirty in the morning and she hadn’t ever fallen back to sleep after Ranma had disturbed her dream. Not that she minded. That particular dream was as unwanted as she was. Akane shook her head. No. She was wanted. Surly she was wanted…by someone…
< Of course I’m wanted! > Akane thought fiercely. < Everyone’s wanted by somebody. Shampoo’s wanted my Mousse. Ranma’s wanted by Ukyo. Kasumi’s wanted by Dr. Tofu. Nabiki’s wanted by...well, she wants anyway. And I guess that counts, too. And I’m wanted by…by…Well, it’s too early for names, anyway. I know! > Akane stood and rolled up her sleeves; then she cracked her knuckles, heading towards the kitchen. < I’ll make breakfast and prove that I’m wanted! My family will eat it, even if it is toxic, to prove that they love me, and I’ll be wanted! That’s what I’ll do! > Filled with a new resolve that temporarily off set impending gloom, Akane, mistress of the uneatable, entered into the Room of Death, otherwise known as the kitchen.
Hours later, Akane sat in her room, staring dismally at the Koi pond. The gloom that had merely traced her thoughts earlier had turned into full blown depression and sat heavily on her mind. Breakfast hadn’t gone as badly as she had feared; it had gone worse. As soon as her "loving family" had discovered who prepared the meal, Kasumi went into the kitchen to rebuild and cook something eatable. Her father sobbed and didn’t say anything. Mr. Soatome turned into a panda and played with a beach ball in the back yard. Nabiki walked right past her sister and out the door, saying something about a business appointment. Ranma never showed up. When Kasumi came in with what her family called "real food", everyone was so excited that they missed Akane leaving the room, having eaten nothing. Now she sat in her room, thinking dark, depressing thoughts. Suddenly, she opened a drawer and pulled out a paper. There were two columns. One said "Good Things About Me." The other said, "Bad Things About Me." The bad half of the list had been added shortly after Ranma came to the Dojo. The good side used to reach half way down the page. Now all but two of the good things were crossed out and negatively restated in the other column. The last two remaining good things were "I keep Ranma from killing P-chan" and "Everyone in my family loves and wants me." She crossed the last one off and wrote two new words in her "Bad Things" column. "Unwanted." "Unlovable."
< Let’s see,> she thought. < I’ve found out so much about myself these past years; I don’t know where to begin. I’m un-cute, which is the same thing as ugly. I can’t cook. I’m a terribly undisciplined, untalented martial artist. I haven’t eaten a full meal in days and no one’s said anything, which means I’m unnoticed. I’m unwanted. I’m unlovable. I’d say I was unneeded, but then who’d take care of P-chan? Well, it’s something. But I’d better become something Good quick. Or P-chan and Ranma will learn to get along and then I’ll have nothing but Bad. And the world doesn’t need anything else Bad. > At that moment Akane heard a squeal. She didn’t smile as she usually would, but she went to find her pig anyway. After all, what else could she do with her day? Akane emerged from the house just in time to see Ranma spirit P-chan away. Sighing, she was about to turn away when she remembered her one "Good Thing." P-chan. Oh, well. If that was all she had, she might as well protect it. So deciding, Akane turned and started following Ranma. Some time later, she rounded a corner and was faced with a most demoralizing scene. Ranma stood over a partially damp Ryoga, kettle in hand. Ryoga’s modesty was saved solely by the way he was sitting. They were arguing. Ranma was telling Ryoga to stay away from Akane. Ryoga was saying that that would never happen. As Ranma started to explain that something was wrong with Akane, Ryoga looked past him and paled. Ranma sighed in frustration.
"What is it now, Pig-Boy?" Ryoga attempted to speak, but had to wet his lips before sound would come. Ranma barley caught the faint whisper.
"Akane." Ranma’s eyes widened and he spun around. There, standing in the alleyway, was Akane. Her gaze was locked with Ryoga’s. She spoke.
"Ryoga…P-chan?"
"I-I can explain!" Ryoga stammered. Ranma stepped in front of Ryoga, attempting to catch Akane’s gaze. The tactic failed. Akane continued to stare at the spot Ryoga’s eye had been.
"Akane, listen. It’s not what it looks like. I mean, yea, it probably is what it looks like, but we can explain! You see, Ryoga and I used to go to school together, and one day he challenged me to a fight. I accepted and then waited for him to show up for days. He never did and Pop and I had to leave for China. Ryoga came after we left, and was really mad that I wasn’t there, so he followed me to China. I was newly cursed when he found me and-" Akane wasn’t listening. Her mind was very slowly computing this new idea of Ryoga being P-chan.
< Fact: Ryoga is P-chan. Fact: He always has been. Fact: My last Good Thing is protecting P-chan from Ranma. Fact: This means I’m trying to protect Ryoga from Ranma. Fact: I’m not a good enough martial artist to stop a battle between Ryoga and Ranma. Fact: My last Good Thing doesn’t exist. Fact: I am now Unneeded. Fact: I have to go update my list. > So deciding, Akane turned on her heal and walked away from the yammering Ranma. The boy stopped mid-sentence and watched her leave. Then he turned back to Ryoga. He summed up his opinion of the new situation.
"I think she took that rather well, don’t you?" Ryoga’s nerves finally got the best of him and he fainted. Ranma sighed.
Akane sat staring at her list. There were no good points left. There was only Bad. That was a very bad thing in itself. Another bad thing was that Akane had to now choose a course of action. She couldn’t just ignore the fact the she was a pointless human being. Every person she knew agreed on that one fact. She ran through her mental list of people who might miss her. Nabiki. If she…left…would Nabiki miss her? Maybe. But if she did, it would only be for the loss of money. Problem: If Akane left, Nabiki would loose money. Solution: Nabiki would have to take more pictures of Ranma. No more problems for Nabiki. Next was Kasumi. If she missed Akane, it would only be because she was family, and Kasumi loved her family most dearly. Problem: Kasumi would hurt for the loss of Akane. Solution: Dr. Tofu. No more problems for Kasumi. In fact, that problem and solution might result in the good Doctor getting some guts and asking Kasumi to marry him. Kasumi would profit for her problem. That was a definite Good. Next was her father. Oh, how he would cry. His problems and Mr. Soatome’s would be about the same. How to join the schools. She didn’t think long on that problem because she knew her father was resourceful and would come up with something. Last but not least was Ranma. He might miss her a little bit, but nothing permanent. Problem: He might be lonely for a little while. Solution: Ukyo. There. That problem solved. Suddenly Akane realized that she had run out of people. Sighing, she laid her head on her folded arms, unsure whether or not the path she was about to take was the right one. Slowly, and totally without her consent, sleep overtook Akane, and that black oblivion found little resistance as it dragged her into oblivion.
Akane stood in a world of mist. Tendrils of the white fog enveloped her limbs, circling and climbing like hungry snakes. She watched with dull horror as the haze seeped into her skin, saturating every cell of her body. She might have screamed, if the sensation of being invaded was new. It was, however, a predictable occurrence. Every time she dreamed, asleep or awake, she arrived in this place of mist. And every time, just as now, the tendrils invaded her body and mind. Always before she struggled, and the mist clung to her and made her feel as though she was slowly drowning in a pool of molasses. This time, she was tired of fighting, and allowed the fog to complete whatever task it was constantly attempting. Finally the haze made its way to her head and Akane closed her eyes. The dream exploded in luminous white light, and then was suddenly gone. Slowly Akane opened her eyes, and gasped. The white mist was gone, replaced by a dark room built of stone. She was alone in the room, the only other object being a mirror.
"Yha ways be -one. Evr."
She strained to make sense of the words. The phrase came again, the same quiet mumble. No wait. Not the same. This time she could pick out some words. "You’ll ways be lone. Ever." Still it made no sense. Akane sighed as the phrase floated by again and she made no more sense than the first time. Then a thought occurred to the sleeper. < I’m trying to snatch the phrase out of the air, and it’s not working. It also didn’t work when I fought the mist. Maybe I have to…surrender…and let whatever’s happening here happen. > Having no other ideas, Akane sighed and bowed her head, surrendering. And then, like magic, the phrase floated not around her, but through her, in her, and it suddenly made perfect sense. It was a warning, a prediction. A truth. The phrase reverberated inside of her.
"You’ll always be alone. Forever."
Akane jerked awake with a start. There was no sweat as there always had been. There had been no thrashing, no cries for help. Finally, after a lifetime, Akane had accepted the dream and found that it told her nothing that she didn’t already know. Quite the contrary, it had only succeeded in affirming her darkest fears. This being the case, Akane had but one choice.
"Well," she began firmly, though no one save herself heard, "I think this time I’ll have to find a sturdier tool than broken glass. Now, where does Kasumi keep her knives?"
Even as Akane began her dark search for a means to her end, a boy brushed white, rain soaked hair out of frost blue eyes. The boy stood leaning against a mountain, staring through drizzling rain at the forest line. He exhaled in frustration and turned to face his companion.
"We’ve been in China for three weeks. Three weeks! And we still haven’t found her."
His companion, a girl with long chocolate hair and surprisingly light purple eyes, sighed and shook her head.
"We’ve all told you before, Galen, our last lead brought us to China and we can’t leave until we find another."
"Well, fine, Iliana." The ice-eyed boy named Galen retorted. "I understand why we didn’t leave before, but why can’t we leave now? We’ve got a lead. Let’s go."
"That’s just like you, Galen." A new voice commented from around the bend in the road. "Always wanting to go, go, go and never remembering why it is that you’re stopped. Did you forget about us?" Galen and Iliana turned to face the voice and the girl smiled as two figures appeared. The boy, whose voice had challenged Galen’s impending need to move, had waist length raven hair, kept in a tight ponytail at the nap of his neck. His serene golden eyes held and challenged Galen’s. The other figure, a girl with sun-golden hair and dazzling emerald eyes, stepped between the boys and nodded at her fellow female, saying politely,
"Iliana." The other girl returned the civility. She nodded; said,
"Sabriel." Then the other boy, unnamed as of yet, stepped around the girl called Sabriel and walked swiftly over to their lean-to campsite. As he worked in dismantling the site, he addressed his comrades.
"We’ve solved the little…problem…we had with that thrice blast training ground, and now we can leave. Our next lead brings us to Japan." The others came to help in tearing down the tarps and pack the camping gear. Galen, fueled by the desire to get moving, ran around the campsite in a frenzy, doing twice what any of the others were doing. After taking half of the camp down, Galen looked around and found the others just finishing their half as well. Grinning, he went over to the other boy.
"So," he started, "when are we leaving?" Iliana sighed and looked over at Galen.
"Why don’t you leave Jonathan alone and busy yourself?" Sabriel, hearing the comment, gestured at the packed up half of camp.
"He’s already cleaned up half of the campsite, L’ana. What else do you want him to do?" Iliana opened her mouth, closed it, and sighed, going back to work. After a few more minutes filled with annoying comments from Galen, the four shouldered their packs and turned towards the forest.
"So," Galen began again, "we’re going now?" Jonathan smiled slightly.
"Yes, Galen. We’re going now." Sabriel bit her lip.
"What if she’s not there, Jon?" The boy’s smile grew.
"She’ll be there, Sabriel." Iliana rearranged her pack and looked at him.
"How do you know, Jon? How do you know this is the right place?"
"I just have a feeling. It’s not much to go on, I know, but I have a feeling we’ll find her this time. I’m sure of it." Galen grinned.
"You heard it, ladies. Jon’s got a feeling! This is it! Let’s go, go, go!" The three of them watched their friend dash away before sighing collectively and trudging after him, wanting to believe against all odds that this time they would fine the one girl in a million who possessed the power to save a world. They all hoped Jonathan’s feeling was right. They very desperately hoped.
