At your request, a recap of the events in this timeline:
Ranma and Ryoga were fighting as usual, when Ranma hit his head on a rock in the koi pond. Ranma thought Ryoga had caught his hand to prevent the fall, but that was not the case.
When Ranma awakens, she is in female form and asleep in Akane’s bed. When she searches the Tendo house for someone to figure out what’s going on, she discovers a completely different decor and a child.
Kuno arrives and informs Ranma that the child, Sachiko, is hers. Ranma assumes she’s had the baby with Kuno at first. Once Kuno takes Ranma to Ucchan’s, the two of them inform Ranma that she is now in her twenties and that it is 2004. Ranma passes out.
When Ranma reawakens, she is in Akane’s bed again. Akane is there, and she finally convinces Ranma that what Ukyo and Kuno have said is the truth. Akane explains that Ranma went into a deep depression a long time ago; Ryoga was the only thing that brought her back. Ranma is now married to Ryoga; the baby is theirs.
Ranma panicks and runs off to Ukyo, but Ryoga manages to bring her back. Ryoga makes her promise not to bolt, for one week; Ranma makes him promise not to come after her once she does.
Ranma attempts to recall the past, and tries to figure out if she really is attracted to Ryoga. Both attempts fail.
Ranma comes across a letter from her father saying that he will return to
Nabiki arrives with Sachiko, telling Ranma that her amnesia is probably due to a knock on the head, that she first started acting strange after a knock on the head when she was sixteen, and that she kissed Ryoga right after that injury. Ranma also suddenly recalls certain things about Sachiko, including the baby’s age.
Ranma feeds the baby and is preparing dinner when Ryoga arrives – with a guest, who turns out to be Ryoga’s boss. Ranma plays the perfect wife for awhile, but it definitely grates. She’s more willing to be decent to Ryoga, though, even in private.
Ranma watches she and Ryoga’s wedding video, and begins to tease Ryoga about all the times they came close to being in love. And at that point, the door opens, and the Tendo sisters walk in, finding the pair in a... ahem... compromising position.
Ryoga kisses Ranma (briefly) on the lips, and explains about curing his directional curse.
The Tendo sisters, Ukyo and Ranma all get together for some drinking, movie-watching, and epiphanies. Akane had to work very hard to make Ranma and Ryoga’s marriage happen, and isn’t too pleased about seeing it fall apart. Kasumi and Nabiki inform Ranma that her worries over falling for Ryoga are pretty much the norm for someone considering giving her heart to anybody.
Ranma, quite tipsy, climbs into bed with Ryoga, then drops off to sleep...
CHAPTER ELEVEN: 2004
Chu!
Ranma grimaced as she tasted the inside of her own mouth. Boy, it really felt like something had curled up and died... and had chosen her tongue for its final resting place.
“Ugggh,” she murmured. She was cold, too. Very cold. She snuggled more deeply into the protective embrace of the person behind her.
And wouldn’t you know it, but her brain felt like it was trying to move outside of her skull. Pain didn’t begin to describe it. It felt more like there were distinct and separate little demons hammering at her insides.
And her stomach...
Ranma threw herself out of bed and into the attached bathroom, making immediate use of the Western-style toilet. “Bleaarrggh!”
She felt instantly better. At least, the demons had departed her stomach and were only residing in her brain, now. Resting over the sink, she rinsed her mouth out with the mouthwash that had been sitting on the counter. “Mouuu...” she moaned desperately, reaching up to the mirrored cabinet above the sink to search for some painkillers.
Ranma froze as she abruptly recalled the feel of someone solid and warm behind her, and her gaze flew back to the bed. “Omigod...”
Her stomach roiled in protest and she leaned again over the toilet.
She turned back slowly, her body one, tense muscle, to regard the bed, hoping that what she’d seen had been some kind of alcohol-induced illusion.
Unfortunately, he was still there. Somehow, she’d made it up to Soun’s room last night and... and done heaven-knew-what. With him.
He was half out of the covers, one muscular arm and one pyjama-panted leg peeking out from under the scarlet comforter. His head was tilted to one side, falling off of the pillow in its mustard-colored case, and his breathing was deep and steady. Morning light spilled across his peace-filled features.
Ranma’s eyes filled with tears, because she wanted to both run away and tuck him in. She settled for staring, one small hand clenched, pressed against her lips. He had uncommonly thick eyelashes for a man, and sensual lips, she decided almost dispassionately, as if she were merely cataloguing him, comparing him favorably or unfavorably to other men and boys she’d known. A restless sleeper – like her.
Unless she’d merely stolen the covers in the night.
Ranma shivered. It was cold in the room, freezing. She wanted to climb back under the covers and bury her head in his shoulder and close her eyes until he kissed her into loving him.
She wanted to run away screaming, she wanted to find Akane and steal her away from all of this and never come back, she wanted to not be a she, a beautiful bride, a willing wife, a mother.
Ranma couldn’t help it. The tears spilled. She dropped to her knees and buried her face in the edge of the synthetic fabric of the scarlet comforter.
It was unmanly, but there was no one to see.
Time passed, but she wasn’t sure how much time. It might have been a minute or an hour of the pain in her body, the split in her soul. But eventually a hand was resting down on top of her hair, and she was forced to look up at him.
His expression mirrored hers. “God... are you okay?”
He looked like he hurt. Because of her. She didn’t know what to tell him. She couldn’t even look him in the eyes. She buried her face into the comforter again and shook her head wildly.
“Damn it,” he swore. She felt the bed bounce slightly as his weight left it. After a minute, she felt his arms wrap tightly around her. He was quiet, simply rocking her back and forth as she cried, unable to stop. “There, there,” he whispered into her hair, briskly rubbing her arms. “You’re okay. You’re okay.”
As if saying it was making it true, Ranma felt her sobs begin to dissolve into sniffles and hiccoughs, the horror that had been building up in her body draining out of her like Ryoga had lanced a wound. First the tears came faster, but very soon they dissolved into sniffles and hiccoughs.
A tiny wail sounded from downstairs.
“L-look w-what I d-did... I w-woke the b-baby...” Ranma moaned, pulling herself up to stand.
Ryoga held on to her waist and pulled her back down. “Sit a minute.”
“But, the baby...”
“Sit, please...”
Ranma sat, fighting the impulse to run down to Sachiko. She felt like the little girl’s cries were tugging something very primal in her, but she fought them with her mind and sat. “Can we leave her crying like that?”
“It’s something we had to do to get her to sleep through the night,” Ryoga told her. “It’s all right for a couple of minutes.”
Ranma’s face heated in shame as she remembered how long Sachiko had cried alone the first day she’d woken up. “O-okay.”
“Tell me what’s the matter.” He began to rock her slightly in his arms again.
Ranma closed her eyes, her focus suddenly lost. Maybe they could just stay this way. Did she really have to ask? And what kind of a person asks that sort of question anyway?
Luckily, Ryoga anticipated her. “I told you I wouldn’t touch you last night,” he reminded her. “We slept, Ranma. That’s it. You climbed in next to me and started to snore loud enough to shake the rafters.”
Ranma’s eyes closed in blissful relief as the last of the misery left her.
“You were crying because you thought I’d done something to you...”
“Why shouldn’t you?” Ranma demanded, almost belligerently. “I don’t want to – but we are married... and isn’t that what a husband and a wife do?”
“Yeah, I guess, but I wouldn’t...” Ryoga sighed, buried his head deep into her hair. “What’s the use?” he murmured. “You don’t... you can’t care for me, can you?”
Ranma stiffened suddenly as his breath whispered past her ear and made shivers run up and down her spine. If he knew what he was doing to her, he wouldn’t be able to ask her questions like that.
“Do you know how it feels to wake up to your wife sobbing because she thought she might have slept with you?”
Ranma had to admit that she didn’t, and she wondered why he was still holding her, since he was so obviously angry and upset; but his grip around her was tightening instead of loosening, just a shade away from lapsing into uncomfortable.
“I’m going to say this to you one more time... and if you can’t trust me after that... maybe...”
Ranma felt her own breathing quicken. Something deep and buried within her was saying in a hurt and confused voice, wait. Wait, no.
“I know you’ve got mixed feelings about me.”
Ranma opened her mouth to protest, but Ryoga anticipated her again, speaking over her.
“Please let me? I know they’re mixed. I know you’ve let me kiss you – but I know that part of you still sees me screaming...” He paused to plant a soft, brief, gentle kiss at the hollow of her neck, then whispered apologetically: “Ranma, prepare to die...”
The whisper over the slightly dampened skin made something dark and warm fill Ranma’s chest. Her pulse thrummed loudly in her ears. “Ryoga...”
“But it’s been six years, so it’s easy for me. I get that it’s hard for you. So... you don’t have to pretend to be anyone you’re not. Definitely not for my sake.”
Ranma leaned slightly back to frown at him, her eyes scanning his. “You’re serious, aren’t you?”
He nodded. “I want you to be happy, Ranma.” He smiled sadly and leaned in to kiss her again.
Ranma felt sick and dizzy and more than a little dismayed at all this kissing. Still, her eyes closed softly as she felt him kiss her where she’d never been kissed before – once over each eyelid, his lips drawing the moisture of her tears away.
When he withdrew, she opened her eyes slowly to find that she was gazing into his hazel ones, and at very close range. Her heart thumped in her chest. We’ll kiss for real now, she thought hazily, the way you see on television, all soppy and nasty.
And will I like it, she wondered dimly, surprise and faint arousal tinging her cheeks. I... think I will...
“Do you want some coffee?” he said.
She blinked at him for a moment at what seemed to her to be a non-sequitor. She’d been thinking of love, and kisses, and leaning towards thinking about deeper and more mysterious things, things in the depths of his eyes.
“Coffee?” she whispered.
“Hangovers always make you emotional. It’s something we have in common.”
Ranma blinked again. The concern and love in his eyes was still there; he was just applying it practically, now. “C-coffee sounds good.”
“Okay. I’ll make us some coffee.” He drew away, his arms leaving the sides of her stomach, and rose, stretching. “We’ll talk about this some more over breakfast, okay?”
“O-okay.” She was still a little dazed at his sudden wish for food. Although, come to think of it, now that her stomach wasn’t so upset with her, and she’d cried herself out, she was beginning to feel distinctly hungry.
Ranma shook herself free of her daze and stood carefully, using the bed as leverage. She gazed down at Ryoga’s pyjamas hanging loosely off of her body, some of the previous night’s events slowly coming back to her; after shaking her head in self-derision, she descended to Sachiko’s room.
Peering inside revealed that the little girl had fallen right back to sleep. Apparently, she’d been woken by Ranma, but slipped back to sleep once the noises had stopped. Ranma grinned a little as the redhead twitched in her sleep. She placed a calming hand atop the small child’s head, then exited the baby’s room quietly.
Slipping down the second flight of stairs as slowly and silently as she could, Ranma found Ryoga boiling soup on the stovetop and stirring some mix in a bowl. “Smells good,” she said, taking a deep breath. Her stomach gurgled again plaintively, but she refused to let a night of drinking get in the way of good food.
Ranma let Ryoga’s too-large shirt pool about her knees as she sat at the table, allowing her thoughts and her eyes to sneak back to Ryoga. He loves me. He really does love me.
And then, how did THAT happen?
Ryoga was right about one thing. She did still see him charging her, screaming, fists raised...
Ranma’s eyes glazed over as she saw him as he’d been at their last fight: pissed as all hell, his face twisted into a mask of rage and despair, telling her to go and die. “He hates me,” she whispered.
“What?”
Clearer, this time: “you hate me.”
“Of course I don’t!” Ryoga forgot the mixing bowl in his hands and turned to stare.
Ranma’s eyes met his. “Any time you could find me, you’d try to hurt me.” She snorted. “Hell, I’d try to hurt you back. You hunted me down halfway across the globe – for sandwiches.”
Ryoga flinched. “I was desolate, Ranma. You were the only friend I had.”
“Wait. Huh?” Ranma leaned to face him, one elbow propped up on the table in front of her. “I know I’ve got holes in my memory, Ryoga-kun, but even I know we weren’t friends back then.”
He sighed. “I didn’t care why I went after you, I just had to follow.” He poured the mixture onto a hot frying pan, smoothing the batter with a ladle.
Ranma recalled Akane’s taunts from the night before in a different light,
suddenly. “Were... did you love me, back then?”
Ryoga’s lips quirked, and he barked a laugh. “I don’t think so. But I was
lonely and you were the only constant in my life. I remember thinking I had
to find you: it was so imperative, like a command in my mind. I invented the
reasons why. I was a kid, so I picked something noble to fight for – saying
you’d run out on our fight, that you were tormenting Akane. What I meant was
that you’d run out on me... moved away when you were the only person I talked
to at school and the only one willing to take me to and from junior high every
day. You know how kids are – your moving had nothing to do with me, but I made
it about me.” He offered her a self-mocking grin. “The world revolves around
every thirteen-year-old boy. And then later...” He coughed into his hand. “I
was... well, I was very jealous of you and Akane.”
“Which one of us?” Ranma inquired flatly, sticking to her original idea.
Ryoga colored, turning rapidly to the stove to avoid her eyes. “Both, I guess. You two fought, but you always made up and you always stuck together. I didn’t have anyone like that.”
Ranma looked down at her lap, too. After being held by him like that, she found it hard to look at him directly. What if he turned around and gave her that intense Ryoga stare again? “But you always said Akane and I were wrong together,” she managed. “If you were jealous of what we had... you had to first recognize that we had something.”
“Of course I did. But I wanted to deny it. It felt good to deny it. Maybe if you were both miserable, my being miserable wouldn’t have been so bad. Three peas in a pod, all miserable together.”
Ranma hid her face again. She didn’t know how to feel. It suddenly seemed that all of Ryoga’s past actions had been erased and painted with a different brush in her mind. Ryoga had been angry, but before he was angry, he had to be hurt. And she had done the hurting. Usually to get a laugh, or because Ryoga happened upon her at a particularly upsetting or frustrating moment.
Ranma sighed. “I guess I meant that you should hate me.”
“I never did. I always just wanted to be closer to you.” His expression changed from sweet sadness to wry; and then he began to laugh, breaking the solemn mood. “Of course, I never imagined things would end up like this...”
“How did it end up like this?”
“I’m not sure. I needed someone very desperately... and you did, too, really. You were so patient with me. I was skittish and easily annoyed. You worked hard at being nice. Eventually you won me over. Now I’m working hard to make it up to you.” He flipped his pancake onto a plate and set it in front of her.
Ranma laughed. “That’s a funny way of putting it.”
“Maybe. But the fact is that I love you. I really do.”
The redhead smiled and tossed her hair. “Who wouldn’t love this body and these moves?”
“That isn’t what I love.” He kissed the top of her head.
And suddenly, instead of recalling his features as he told her to ‘hold still and die’, Ranma found herself remembering his outstretched arm, and the stark terror in his eyes just before she hit the rocks. She gulped. At least... at least, he sure did care for me more than he let on.
Quietly, she began filling her stomach with pancake, and then with the hot coffee Ryoga set in front of her. Her body appeared to be taking the new additions well, making a few mild noises of protest before settling down.
“Listen, I do have to go to work...”
Ranma looked up to find his expression one of deep regret and worry. “I’ll be okay.” Then, knowing what he was after – she surprised herself by being able to read him – she added, “I won’t go without saying goodbye. What do you take me for?” She frowned menacingly. “And what about Sachiko? Would I leave her alone all day?”
His relieved grin made her smile in return. “Okay,” he replied, simply. “Do I get a goodbye kiss?”
Ranma’s heart thumped in her chest. Ryoga was going to stay a gentleman ‘til the end; he wouldn’t just sweep her off her feet. And there wasn’t anything wrong with it, was there? They were married!
Damn it... and damn them all, the Tendos and Ukyo and Ryoga, too, for making her feel this way, backed into an emotional corner. She wanted him to hold her again, in whatever way – and she wanted even more to avoid seeing that look of hurt disappointment in his eyes, the one that had stopped her in her tracks on the very first day.
And on top of all that, she wanted to give him a straight answer.
Hmm, although maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words.
“I’ll give it a try,” she replied softly. “If you don’t mind...” Ranma fumbled. She didn’t know how to tell Ryoga that this might not work, that she might hate it or she might feel nothing; and it was a little cruel to use him to initiate a real kiss without yet even guessing how she felt about it.
Gulping, she rose and straightened her pyjama top.
“R-Ranma?”
She made her way to him, her lips a grim line of determination, and wrapped her arms around his neck.
“Ranma...” His eyes were wide and confused. “Are you...?”
He was kind of cute when he didn’t know what the hell was happening. She smirked, and pressed her lips to his.
For a moment he stood frozen, his muscles locked up in surprise. That only lasted a moment, though. Soon, she was pressed to him, one of his hands at the small of her back, the other on her left shoulderblade. Ranma found that her double on the tape had been right – Ryoga kissed like he was born knowing how. Their lips moved together until Ranma thought her heart might beat straight out of her chest and flop down to lay at his feet. I am giving myself to him... he’s going to have it, have me... he’ll keep me forever... but I’ll get him.. It is a fair trade, isn’t it?
After that, there wasn’t much room for thought.
After devoting some serious attention to her lips, Ryoga moved his attention to the spot just below her ear, working his way down to her shoulder. Eventually, though, he pulled back to watch her, his eyes dark, his hair mussed, and his lips bruised. Ranma wondered if she had the just-done-it look, too. Although she had to admit, he made it look good.
“W-well?” he stammered.
“Whoa,” she replied.
A bright grin lit his features. “Really?”
“Don’t make me say it twice. You making my knees weak is weird enough.”
Oddly, this statement did nothing to remove his smile. “To be continued, then, I guess,” he replied.
“Yeah, I guess.” She smiled at him; then, tentatively, she went on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. “Bye.”
He returned with a kiss on the cheek, looking like he’d just won a million dollars. “See you, Ranma.” He closed the door behind him, and, moments later, had literally disappeared.
“How does he do that?” Ranma wondered, staring at the spot of porch he’d just vacated. Then she flopped down on the couch, eyes glazing over, fingers rising unconsciously to brush her lips.
It wasn’t like the first time. The first time had been terrible. Mikado had been grabby, he hadn’t cared anything for her, and his mouth was... ugh!... everyplace. There had been so much sucking, and so much spit. And part of her, a part she hadn’t even known existed at the time, was in a state of terror so deep it was literally impossible to actually acknowledge with the conscious mind. Ranma – Ranma, who knew for a fact that men amoungst men did not cry – was reduced to tears by that kiss.1
Belatedly, Ranma remembered a second kiss, although she hadn’t counted it at the time. Despite she and Akane’s pretenses, duct tape over the lips did not completely muffle sensation. That kiss, while sweeter and more heartfelt, had lacked something in the commitment arena. And although she’d been told the story – over and over again, actually – she didn’t remember the kiss she’d given Akane while in the Neko-ken.
Ryoga’s kiss had been sure and confident but careful and slow. He hadn’t shoved his tongue in her mouth, although his tongue had... Ranma didn’t know what to call it. For just a second, his tongue had run over her lower lip, and then it was gone.
Man, that had sent a chill from her lips straight to her toes – yet, in a way, it also hurt her, tore at her. It was as though what he’d been doing was building up a pressure in her system, a pressure that would eventually tear her to pieces, then reassemble her in an entirely new way.
Kami-sama, was this always how it felt?
But she knew the answer to that question. It wasn’t all about skill. It only felt that way when you...
Gah! Can’t even think it!
Felt that way if...
Ranma heard Akane’s voice suddenly and clearly: ‘Don’t skirt around Ryoga like you did with me and Ukyo and Shampoo back then. Gather your bravery together and tell him one way or the other...’
“First I gotta know how I feel, Akane...”
Ranma ran a hand through her red hair. “Dummy.” She knocked herself on the side of the head, filling in for Akane in her absence.
Of course she knew. She was attracted to Ryoga. She didn’t know when that had really started or whether it had been true all along, but it was true now. She might even love him, given some time. Ranma had to admit she felt... affectionate... towards Ryoga, but the idea of being in love with a man still twisted her insides, and she wasn’t certain if her stomach and her heart could reach some kind of agreement so soon.
“But probably... after awhile...”
If she stayed. The other option was to leave here, leave Sachiko and Ryoga and...
“And...?”
...and perhaps start her own dojo elsewhere. She could certainly make a living that way. Moreover, she could make a fine living in the wilderness, if it came to that. It wasn’t like she didn’t have any skills. She could get a job in some nameless town, or move to China...
And why didn’t I just do that in the first place?
It was a good question. Ranma thought back to her first day with Ryoga as she recalled it. Her emotions had been all a-jumble, and she knew that at least part of her had simply needed a return to home base. She had, after all, started to run away before circling back unconsciously. And her pride had stung; she couldn’t really run from Sachiko and Ryoga, no matter how many times Ryoga hinted at the option.
But if she was honest with herself, there was something more. Ranma frowned, trying to concentrate on the feeling. She remembered...
Thinking that Ryoga was a fool. A naive imbecile. That she could stay with him without fear of harm... She knew how Ryoga thought of women. He elevated them to the status of minor deities. And it was obvious that, from his point of view, she was a woman now... He wouldn’t press the issue...
Ranma recalled, now. She had been buying herself some time to figure this out. Although she barely remembered the details of that night – everything was already slightly fuzzy from heightened emotion – she did remember thinking that she’d somehow landed herself in some sort of joke or a mean-spirited trick. Perhaps she was under the influence of some magical item – or maybe everyone else was. It wasn’t all that outlandish to assume, in Ranma’s case.
The two thoughts, ‘Ryoga is a naive imbecile’ and ‘buying some time’, fit together like the pieces of a blacksmith’s puzzle. Ranma had realized that, by staying at the Tendo home, she would have enough time to piece together what had happened; and, she realized that, given Ryoga’s tendency towards naivete, he would leave her alone. Moreover, if she just acted feminine and distressed, Ryoga would probably actually aid her in finding the trouble, possibly helping her return to life as she knew it... Certainly he would feed her while she sorted this all out.
A strange, self-loathing grimace briefly touched her features. The reason for Ranma’s disgust wasn’t something she could put into words, but the picture of her scamming a male shopkeeper for some free food flitted past her mind’s eye. There was something inherently similar in it.
Come to think of it, hadn’t she tried to do the same exact thing to Ukyo, first?
Ranma worried her lower lip between her teeth, tasted Ryoga on it and started in surprise. This was a new and unexpected development. She hadn’t really thought of Ryoga tasting a certain way, but there was that taste on her lips, a not-food taste, a not-Ranma taste... his taste.
“Gah!” Guilt seemed to envelop her. She’d been scamming him. Scamming Ryoga.
Aw, c’mon, Ranma. Don’t be a dumbass. Anyone who’s that stupid deserves what they get... Her brain was frantically scrambling for that sense of infuriated righteousness that had been fueling her that night. It’s not like it’s any different from what you were doing at the Tendo household before...
Ranma blinked, then slapped her hand to her forehead. “Mou...” She gulped. “Have I become somebody who takes what they want, manipulates who they like, and moves on?” She frowned. “Kind of like Pops...”
The door swung open again, causing Ranma to stiffen in her borrowed shirt, rapidly smoothing her expression. “What’s up? You forget something?”
Genma coughed experimentally. “That’s the welcome I get, after almost a year away? Sure, let me get that old blanket I left here last winter!”
Ranma blinked at him silently before her eyes filled with tears. “P-Pops?”
He grinned. “The one and only.” His smile dissolved into a heavy frown. “And I’ll have you know that I take what I like and stick around awhile longer. For the company.”
Ranma laughed through her tears and bounded up off of the couch to meet him.
Author’s Notes:
Mmm. Okay, didn’t know Genma was showing up, myself. Sometimes these things surprise me. Well... actually, they do that a lot. I think I started off this story wanting to work him in, and then lost him someplace along the way. This is another chapter that looked very different originally. I think that, the later the chapter is, the more the story has deviated and the more it has to be altered. By the time we’re up to chapter fifteen or so, it’s going to be a rewrite every time!
Hope you’re liking it so far! Let me know what you think...
1 Ranma is referring here to her kiss with Mikado Sanzenin – or, rather, the kiss he stole from her.
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