She stood near the center of the dojo in a combat stance. She was tense, nervous, apprehensive. Her eyes showed a mixture of determination and caution as she eyed her opponent carefully. Every movement caught her attention, though her body did not seem to react to any outside stimuli. She was remaining absolutely motionless.
Her opponent, on the other hand, was completely relaxed, barely even registering the tense martial artist scant paces away. In fact, her opponent did not even seem concerned about anything at all. As always, she thought to herself. Well, not today. Today will be different. I can feel it.
Her eyes never leaving her opponent, the young warrior crept forward another step, bringing her closer to her opponent. Nothing happened. Her opponent had not even gazed her way. So far so good. She glanced at her audience who were here for moral support. While none of them moved or spoke, she could feel their encouragement. She concentrated back at the task at hand. She crept forward again. This time, her opponent sensed something and turned to look her directly into her eyes. She froze.
Those piercing eyes seemed to look into her very soul. She could never look into them for very long without having to turn away, but this time, something gave her the strength and courage to stare right back and hold her position. She waited. And waited. A small bead of sweat began its slow journey south from her brow, down her temple, and down her cheek. It itched, but she dare not move. After an eternity, her opponent looked away, seemingly tired of the game.
Visibly, she relaxed. She fought the urge to sigh in relief, which would only cause her opponent to look her way again, perhaps to act instead of simply turning away. She spared a quick glance to her audience. They, too, seemed to relax from the previous tension, again without uttering a sound. They knew how important this was to her, as she had never come this far before. Her father, she noticed, was staring at her intensely and gave her an imperceptible nod. She looked back at her opponent.
She crept forward again. Stop. Wait. Nothing. Then again. Her opponent was unaware of her advancement. She allowed a little bit of hope to enter her. She would win! For the first time since she encountered this opponent, she would have victory! She crept forward again.
Her opponent started and quickly turned to face her. She froze. Please, she prayed to any sympathetic gods that might be listening. I'm so close. I've never been this close before. Help me to win.
There was no answer.
Her opponent must have finally registered her presence because curiosity filled those amber eyes. With a small motion, her opponent turned fully and took a step towards her.
She saw her opponent advance. The tables were turned and suddenly she knew she could not win. She would never defeat this opponent, ever. She glanced over to the audience, all of whom were wearing expressions of pity, sorrow, and desperate determination. She tried to regain her confidence and looked back at her foe. It was pointless, though. As her opponent took another step towards her, her faltered confidence crumbled into nothingness. She tried to think, tried to do something, but nothing came to mind.
Another step.
You're a martial artist, dammit! she screamed to herself. Attack! She could not, though. She had never been able to lay a hand on this opponent. And it seemed she never will.
Another step and her opponent was two meters away. Her composure began to leave her and she shook ever so slightly, though whether it was out of revulsion of her actions, anger at her own abilities, or just plain tension was not known. Or it could have been fear.
Her opponent obviously sensed her predicament and began to walk steadily towards her. In her eyes, everything began moving in exaggerated slowness.
Step.
A quiver.
Step.
Pleaseopleaseoplease.
Step.
The slow opening of the opponent's mouth, the horrified look that, just as slowly, grew on her face.
Step.
One meter.
Step.
Then, her opponent spoke. Its one word that spelled victory for it and utter annihilation for her.
"Meow."
"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!"
Ranma tore away from the cat faster than the eye could follow. She only stopped when she slammed into the wall on the far side of the Tendo Dojo. Her back was against it and she looked about two seconds from tearing through it. She was breathing heavily and sweat covered her face and chest.
With a collective sigh, the various members of the audience got up, with different expressions on their faces. Nabiki looked smug, as if expecting this result. If anyone had bothered to put money down on this match, she thought, I'd be collecting right now. She left the dojo on that note.
Kasumi looked sympathetic as she gathered up Hanachiyo. She was watching the cat for her friend again, even though she knew what the cat might do to Ranma. She smiled at the cat as she walked out of the dojo. "Arigato for your help tonight, Hanachiyo." The cat merely looked up at her, not understanding anything that had just occurred.
Genma looked disappointed. "Ranma, when will you ever get over this fear of yours? It makes you weak as a martial artist. How could a son of mine be--" He was cut off as a small bucket collided with the side of his head. "Growf."
"Aw, can it, Oyaji. I wouldn't have this problem if it weren't for you, ya know." She turned away, not really wanting to argue any more, muttering "baka" underneath her breath.
Soun clasped a hand on Genma-panda's shoulder. "Come, Saotome. Let's head to the public baths." The hot water heater was once again not functioning properly in the house. Hence, Ranma's current form. Soun and Genma-panda left the dojo.
Akane looked over at Ranma who seemed preoccupied with something, most likely the "match" that just occurred. Her hands were in her pockets and she was turned away from Akane. She seemed to intent on studying the floor. "Ranma?"
Ranma looked up from where she was staring. "Yeah?"
Akane smiled. "You did good just then. Better than ever. I just wanted to say I'm proud of you. And don't worry about it so much. You'll conquer your fear soon. Unbeatable or not, I've never seen you lose to anybody, or anything, for very long."
To say that Ranma was suprised was an understatement. Akane had usually never said anything that nice to him. Then again, Ranma usually never gave her the chance, or if she did, her incredibly fast mouth would always ruin it. She managed a small smile. "Arigato, Akane."
Akane nodded and turned to leave when Ranma's voice stopped her. "Hey Akane?" She turned back to face her, a questioning look on her face. Ranma still had that small smile on her face. "Do you want to spar? For real this time?"
It was Akane's turn to be dumbfounded. This was a remarkable offer from Ranma who had never sparred with her before. Usually, Ranma just dodged and danced around, often tossing insults at the same time. Akane's eyes shone with gratitude as she replied with a soft voice. "Hai. I would like that very much."
Ranma smiled at her again and began a kata, working the tension out her muscles. Akane left to change into her gi. Maybe, she thought while changing, today will be different. After all, no one's completely unbeatable. She grinned as she tightened her belt and returned to the dojo.
Outside, Kasumi sat with Hanachiyo, petting her. As she heard the sparring begin, she looked down at Hanachiyo. "Arigato again, Hanachiyo." The cat purred.