Heir of Darkness
Written by Remi
Edited by NonsequiterII - The Winds of Change
~+~
Chances lost, chances gained,
Would you think back to where you came?
Bad times went, good times came
Things will never be the same
The past’s gone, lessons learned
Do apply it to every turn
Darkness fades when brightness wakes
There will be new decisions to make
Day by day, night by night
Why not take advantage of your life?
Come sooner, come later
You’ll observe what you have gathered
What will end, what shall begin
This time—it’s all in your pretty little hands—
- Fion
“It's All In Your Hands”
~+~
Grey clouds had covered much of the sky. Nevertheless, the sun still managed to reach past the puffy cotton ball clouds, creating a pleasant drowsy afternoon. A great setting for those that needed the extra shut-eye. The calmness in the air however, was abruptly broken by a high-pitched feminine scream. It echoed throughout the walls of the Tendou residence and in the process woke the last of its sleeping occupants.
"Ranma?" Akane whispered indolently as sunlight streamed onto her face through the edges of her window drapes. The coruscating light flared directly into her golden irises as her eyes flashed opened, blinding her momentarily. At the unexpected brightness, she clamped her eyes shut immediately. As she waited for her eyes to gradually adjust, the screams of rage from her opened window continued. Slowly, her hazed mind began to register to whom the voices belonged. As she recognized them, she sighed and opened her eyes once more.
Through the blazing light, the décor of her small room was revealed and she found herself lying on her stomach on her bed, with a tawny blanket over her body.
She glanced at her bedside clock and grimaced at the time. Unknowingly, she had slept through the whole morning again but instead of feeling rested, she felt strangely tired . . . Her eyes were irritated and stung. Her muscles were sore and aching.
Before she had time to sort out her distorted thoughts and emotions, the sound of the screams originating from her window increased a few more notches. Aggravated by the loud volume, she pushed her blanket aside and crawled out of bed to investigate. Pulling the drapes away from the side of her window, she found the cause of the commotion.
Two stories below, a girl with her red hair tied in a single braid was chasing after a short, old man in a reddish-brown gi. The girl was soaking-wet in her red silk shirt and black pants, and she was apparently very furious about it. By contrast, a leer overlaid the old man's shriveled face as he dodged the girl's attempts to clutch at his heels, while holding an empty bucket in one hand and a lacy, cream-colored bra in the other. Moreover, he was using the bra to repeatedly taunt the red haired girl.
Silently, Akane observed the whole scene with a frown furrowing on her brow. Just as she had expected, the two troublemakers were none other than Ranma and Happosai. Every morning they seemed to cause these disturbances. More often now since Happosai had decided to stay with her family, saying that they would need him for the things that would happen soon. No one knew for sure what he meant. And no one bothered to ask him to elaborate since regardless of the explanations he gave, either logical or fallacious, Happosai would likely sneak in the house and make himself at home anyway. Like a cockroach, he was that hard to get rid of.
Irrepressibly, Akane's eyes strayed toward Ranma. Slowly, her eyes began to moisten as memories began to flood back to her. As she became aware of them, she willed herself not to cry and forced her eyes to watch the altering gray clouds in the sky instead. It did not help. The gloomy atmosphere only served as a painful reminder of what had started just two weeks ago . . .
The clouds were white as a swan's feather and partially covered the balmy blue sky. It complimented the greenery of the park and created a tranquil scene. It was a sight greatly enjoyed by the people that visited it, except for them.
"I'm sorry," she apologized for what seemed like the twentieth time. Although, it had been his fault that he had to ridicule her, he was getting what he deserved. Yet, after hitting him, she felt guilty. It pained her to see him wince every time he moved his head, which he was doing quite frequently.
"Like that is going to help, stupid tomboy." He scowled at her and clamped his eyes shut as if he was in excruciating pain.
Opening her mouth, she was about to throw in a retort but refrain herself from doing so. It was pointless; another argument with Ranma would only result in a return visit to Dr. Tofu. She took a deep breath hoping to lessen her frustration before she began her next words. "Why do you always make fun of me?"
"Who's making fun of you? I was only telling the truth." He snorted as he turned his chin up arrogantly. "You know, you should take a good look at yourself in the mirror, then you'll know what I mean . . . " He smirked.
Chagrined by his brutal remark, her body trembled in response and tears threatened to trail down her face. Either he was clueless to her inner battle or didn't care for her feelings in the least as he proceeded to count off the number of faults he found in her.
"I mean, it's quite obvious, Shampoo is prettier than you, Ukyou is cuter than you. Even my girl side is much sexier than you and to top it off, you have no grace and femininity. How can I be wrong when I called you an uncute tomboy with zero sex appeal or a macho chick for that matter? Akane, you just got to learn to accept the facts." Proudly, he ended with a grin on his face.
Listening to the comments he made about her, letting herself silently immersed in the pain his words induced, and not venting out her frustrations was extremely difficult . . . Yet, she had to try. She refused to let him have the satisfaction of making her cry.
Must control . . . control . . . She repeatedly chanted to herself as she quickened her pace.
"Akane? Hey, wait up! Didn't Dr. Tofu tell you to walk me home? How do you expect me to catch up if you walk so fast?" he complained and mocked, "Stupid tomboy . . . I guess a macho chick like you could never learn how to be considerate."
She bit down on her lips painfully to keep herself from crying and distanced herself further from him.
"Akane?"
She could detect the surprise in his voice along with a touch of alarm. Yet, she had no intention of halting to listen to anymore of his ridiculing. She was having a hard time keeping her tears in check as it was.
"Hey!" he shouted.
The tone of his voice was filled with urgency. She ignored it and hurried off. This did not deter him from running after her. The tempo of his light footsteps increased in velocity as he closed the distance between them. In response, she was tempted to run but the idea was instantly cut short as her arm was seized.
"Let me go-"
"I'm sorry!" Hastily, he began with a look of panic in his eyes. "I didn't mean it . . . " he continued on in a remorseful murmur.
He had surprised her again. One moment making her feel regretful and miserable, angry and hurt, now . . . She felt tired and emotionally drained. Uncertain of what to do, she stayed silent and averted her gaze. When she did not respond, he reached out his other hand to her and huskily whispered her name.
His voice was so gentle . . . and entrancing at such close proximity. Unable to resist, she raised her eyes to meet his. The smirk she had seen when he mocked her appearance was no longer there. A doleful expression had replaced it. His tormented grayish-blue eyes only revealed more of his anguish.
At that moment, she saw what other girls had seen in him and knew why they were attracted to him like moths to a flame. Asides from being ruggedly handsome and exuding an aura of confidence in everything he did, Ranma had an even more appealing quality; even years of harsh training and traveling through perilous terrain could not demarcate. Often she refused to believe it existed because of how he constantly distressed and angered her by his careless words and thoughtless actions. Yet, it was there. She was seeing it now, the genuine concern and tenderness in his eyes . . .
Inwardly, she sighed. A slight smile slowly formed on her lips as she offered him her hand. "Truce?"
"All right!" he said cheerfully which brought an even bigger smile to her lips. With a broad grin, he playfully tugged her hand. "Come on, let's go home."
Stunned, she could only nod in agreement. This was very unexpected. Never could she have anticipated that he would be this relaxed around her and even go so far as to hold her hand in public! She couldn't possibly find a better time then now to ask him the question . . . The one she had desired to know for a very long time.
"Ranma?" she halted in her steps, urging him to do the same.
"What?" He glanced at her curiously.
A pink glow colored her cheeks as she nervously began, "I was wondering. Are you . . . No, do you think we . . . I mean would you . . ."
His brows raised upward in confusion. "Akane, what is it you're trying to say?"
Her eyes wavered under his gaze. 'Why is it so difficult?' Mentally, she agonized over her embarrassment. A sudden image of Ranma going out with someone else finally gave her the courage that she needed. She knew she must take the first step because he would never have the guts to that. Besides, she doesn't want any regret for not putting any efforts in their relationship.
With a determined look, she quickly blurted out, "Would you like to go out with me next weekend?" After she finished, she could no longer keep her eyes on his.
"A d-date?" He stuttered taken aback.
"Yes . . . " she confirmed in a hushed whisper. Curious as to his reaction, she darted a glance at him and saw that his face had turned the shade of peach.
Ranma swallowed and smiled at her. "Actually, I-I already have plans-"
"That's all right, maybe we could go some other time then," she spoke out in a rush. In her heart she knew there would not be another time. One rejection was already too much to bear and she had already gotten her answer. He was not interested . . .
"Akane-"
"It's all right, Ranma. I-I understand." For appearances sake, she curved up her lips pleasantly, hoping he could not see through her spurious grin. Slowly, she removed her hand from his.
"But-"
"Ranma, just forget about it." She breathed, then casually put in, "Come on, let's get going."
"Ugh! Will you just listen to what I have to say?" He threw up his hands in frustration.
At his sudden outburst, she could only stare at him in confusion. Mutely, she nodded her head.
"Thank you," he sighed heavily and dropped his hands to his sides. He gave her a rueful smile as he began. "I did have other plans. I wanted to go to the movie and thought of taking you along . . . I guess if you have some better ideas, I-I'm open to any suggestions." He shoved his hands in his pockets and shot her an uncertain glance.
"You were going to ask me out?" Her mouth opened in shock.
"Yea. I-I was going to ask you sometime, but I guess you beat me to it . . . " his voice trailed off, not able to continue any further.
"Oh." She was dazed. She could no longer contain the bright gleam that flashed from her eyes, this time not caused by moisture of held-back tears. She did not let her mind dwell on when the sometime that he had meant might have been. Instead, she let the warm bubbly sensation inside her spread from her heart all the way to her head and toes. She allowed her mind to bask in the thought that Ranma would have asked her out if she had not said it first. Never in her dreams had she believed this would happen. She was constantly in doubt about whether Ranma liked her at all. That was why she had decided to ask him out on a date. If he liked her, he would go, if not, then she would finally know . . .
"Well, do you want to go or not?" he demanded impatiently as beads of moisture appeared on his flushed face. He looked so insecure and was obviously afraid of rejection just like her. Her heart fluttered at the discovery.
"I would love to!" She quickly answered before he could take back his offer.
"Okay . . . ah, how about Saturday at six?" he murmured, all the while keeping his head lowered. It made him look adorable. This was the side of Ranma she rarely saw. He was timid and no longer had the confident façade that normally masked his face. She could not help but smile at seeing him this way.
"That will be fine." She replied softly.
"Okay then. Ah, let's go home. It is getting late." He started to head in the direction of the dojo.
In bewilderment, she gazed at his retreating back as he hurried off. Then, seeing that he was going to leave her behind if she did not follow, she ran up beside him and tried to match his long strides. With a sidelong glance, she watched him walking stiffly with his hands clenched at his sides. Not once had he looked her way. Anyone seeing him now would have mistaken him to be in a foul mood, if not for the telltale sign on his face, a blush . . .
Her lips turned up in amusement. Slowly, it disappeared as tempting thoughts of ways to lessen the awkwardness between them formed in the corner of her mind. Her heart raced at the prospect. She moistened her suddenly overly dry lips and stole glances at him. Then in extremely slow motion she reached out . . . Almost as light as a feather, her fingertips gently touched his. Yet, she knew he had felt it. She sensed he immediately tensed up and heard his sudden intake of breath. For several long seconds, she waited to see what he would do next. But he made no move, either to take hold of her hand or to push her away. Unsure of his reaction and embarrassed by her own forwardness, she withdrew her hand but was instantly stopped when it was held in a firm grasp.
A soft gust of air escaped her lips. She glanced down and saw his fingers entwined with hers. Her heart pounded fiercely in her ears as her face heated feverishly. Without looking up, she knew that his face was just as red as hers. She smiled in contentment and they walked the rest of the way home in silence . . .
Such a pleasant memory, only two weeks ago . . . it was hard to believe that it had ever existed and harder still to see how it could so easily be replaced by a bitter one. Her eyes became slightly moist as a recollection of their date set for last weekend come back as fresh as the summer breeze. The feeling this memory incited was a sweet throbbing ache in her heart, painful and unbearable. She gritted her teeth and stared intently at the sky.
Time seemed like an eternity as she continued to gaze despondently at the drastically shifting metallic clouds. It took a while for the moving clouds to comfort her mental anguish and relax her constricted heart. Gradually, her lips turned up in a grim smile as a new thought emerged. With determination, she announced, "Things may not change around here, but like the clouds in the sky, I will!"
Instantly, light flashed, followed by the roaring of thunder as if the sky were applauding her declaration. The dark clouds had already covered much of the sky, blocking out the afternoon sun that had blinded her earlier when she had awoken. She began to feel the invisible force that had propelled the clouds' acceleration. A cool breeze tousled her hair playfully and gently brushed along her skin like a lover's caress. She closed her eyes and savored the exhilarating feeling of the wind engulfing her. In that moment, she felt a rare sense of freedom. She was free of all the thoughts and concerns that plagued her each day. It was not long, however, before a distinct voice intruded upon her solitude.
Oh yes, do change . . .
Startled, she searched for the source of the voice. She found herself alone. Yet, the voice continued to holler . . . in her head. The voice . . . the words . . . it was an unconscious thought coming from within her head. Uncontrollably, it continued to echo throughout her mind. A queer sensation began to overtake her. It went down from the top of her head, to shiver down her spine, then to her toes. Wherever it touched, it caused her skin to tingle lusciously. She felt cold. She felt fear. But above all this, she felt an eerie sense of excitement.
Unnoticed, her hands had clamped onto the windowsill for support as the overpowering sensation consumed her. Languidly, the voice in her head receded into the oblivion and it was the throbbing pain from her hands that had shook her out of her stupor. She removed her quivering fingers from the windowsills slowly, watching as blood urgently rushed and reddened her once white palms. Blankly, she stared at it.
"Finally awake, sleepy head?"
She glanced behind her and saw her older sister, Nabiki leaning against the door.
"Gosh, Akane, do you always look this terrible when you wake up?"
At her sister's remark, she could not help but self-consciously run a hand over her disheveled hair.
Nabiki grinned impishly and walked up toward her. "You should learn how to take care of yourself, or how are you going to compete with the other girls?"
"Really Nabiki . . . "
"Oh? Take a look at yourself." Nabiki took a small round mirror from her desk and placed it in front of her.
She gazed at the reflection of herself and gasped. Taking hold of the mirror, she traced her counterpart with shaking fingers. Indeed she looked awful. Her face was ashen, her dark hair, eyebrows, and eyes contrasting drastically with her pale complexion, giving her an almost cadaverous appearance.
"Are you sick, Akane?"
"I-I don't feel ill." Dumbfounded, she could only stare at her own image. The odd coloring of her pale skin prompted a vague memory in the recesses of her mind. Her eyes became distant as she received a piercingly clear recollection of a creature and a mysterious stranger from the night before.
"It's that dream again . . . " she whispered softly, unknowingly voicing out her thoughts.
"Dream? You mean a dream caused you to look like this?" Nabiki gave her a dubious look.
She responded by shrugging her shoulders. "I guess, I did not get much sleep because of it."
"Must be nightmares then." A mischievous smile formed on her sister's face. "I bet it's about other girls taking Ranma away from you."
She raised one of her eyebrows at the comment.
Nabiki laughed. "I was just kidding. Lighten up, Akane. If it makes you feel better, I'll tell you that Ranma is having the same problem too." Her sister eyed her speculatively. "Seeing how you have changed over the year, he'll have even more problems now."
"Very funny, Nabiki. I don't even know how you could think of such a ridiculous notion," she said exasperatedly. Mentally, she thought of how many times Ranma had ridiculed her about her looks. Seeing at herself now, she could not help but admit he had been right all along. Her nose was too long and narrow. Her mouth was too wide. Her eyes were too large, and her cheeks were too hollow. Adding it all up, it made her look ugly . . .
"Akane, it's not ridiculous and it's not a notion. It is a simple fact, but I am not sure if either you or Ranma are aware of it."
She sighed in defeat. She could not win an argument with Nabiki. Anyway saying too much could tip off her true feelings for Ranma. That was not a good idea considering how her sister would not hesitate to take advantage of it. Nabiki might even record their conversation and sell it to the highest bidder.
"Did you come in here just to tease me or was there something else you wanted?" she asked, in hoping to change the topic.
"Since you mention it, yes, I do have a favor to ask of you. I was wondering if you could lend me your dress."
"What dress?"
"You know, the sleeveless black dress?" Her sister grinned humorously and walked over to her closet. She then pulled out the dark dress in question. "I wonder what special occasion you bought this for?"
Her sister had to remind her. The reference to the dress brought back the painful memories of a week ago that she had been trying to forget. A question arose in her mind as to how her sister could have found out about the dress. She had been so secretive . . . The only way Nabiki could have known was if she had gone through her possessions. Again, her sister had intruded into her room not to mention her personal affairs. In irritation, she said through gritted teeth, "Nabiki, you should ask me first before you go through my things."
"Well, you weren't here," her sister reasoned nonchalantly.
In agitation, she clenched her hands. "Then wait until I get back."
"Come on Akane, it's only a dress. Or is there more to it?"
"The dress is not the issue, Nabiki. I want you to ask me first before you go through my things."
"You never had a complain about that before. Why are you making such a big deal about it now?" Nabiki gave her a sly look. "Something is telling me that it has to do with this dress . . . " she fingered the fabric of the black dress delicately as she made the remark.
Tormented by her sister's suggestive words, her mind could no longer held back the agonizing memories. She remembered the feeling of the soft fabric of the dress as she held it close to her chest. She even recalled the whimsical smile on her face as she stood in front of the mirror. Her sister was dead on target . . .
"So how does this look on you?" Nabiki held the dress before her body. "Did you knock him off his feet?"
Triggered by the question, her mind conjured up another image. It was the reflection of a young woman in a mirror. She was clad in a stunning midnight-black dress that fit her flawlessly. The dress clung to her upper body, emphasizing her chest and waist. Then it caressed her hips lightly as it reached halfway down her thighs, leaving her legs bare. There, its soft fabric swayed seductively. The low collar of her dress covered her chest and neck making her looked modest. Her arms, the outer part of her shoulders, and her back were left exposed, so that it did not appear overly conservative. All in all, the dress did wonders for the young woman in the mirror. It made her looked very presentable and maybe a little sexy too . . .
Noting where her thoughts were leading, Akane fought for control and in response to her sister, she said simply, "The dress looked nice. As to whose feet you are implying, I do not know what you are talking about."
"I think you know very well who I am talking about." Nabiki smirked.
Yea, that is if he had seen it . . . Her mind silently answered.
"Akane? Hey, are you listening?" Nabiki waved a hand in front of her face.
She shook her head and gave an apologetic smile.
Nabiki lowered her hand and astutely continued, "Come on Akane, I know you are hiding something. You're not good at lying so don't even try it. I can see through you. Just tell me what is bothering you and I will help."
Help . . . She almost laughed at the offer her sister made. Nabiki hindered her progress with Ranma more than she ever knew. Because of her sister's meddling she had lost so many opportunities . . .
"Get that gleam out of your eyes Nabiki. It is not even what you think." She hadn't exactly been lying when she said that.
"No? Hmm . . . " Nabiki grinned, then checked the tag of a designer's name along the seam within the dress. "It's funny, really. I would never expect you to spend so much on clothes."
She grimaced. "So it was expensive, but I thought it was worth it."
That was until a week ago . . . Her inner voice taunted.
Mentally, she laughed at her own idiocy as she remembered how anxiously she had waited for him at the park. Of how she could not stop her constant fidgeting to make sure everything was in place. Not a minute went by that she did not glance at her wristwatch. She had even appealed to the high orders, praying that all would turn out well, and if possible, that it would be a night she would remember forever. Kami-sama, in his special way had granted her wish. It was indeed a night she would have a hard time forgetting . . .
"So are you going to tell me what you bought this for?" Her sister's voice shook her out of her reverie and Akane directed an inquiring gaze at her. She met those gleaming eyes headlong with a raised eyebrow. Seeing that she would not falter under her gaze, Nabiki smirked. "Then I guess you don't mind if I borrow it, that is, if it is not going to be used for any special occasion . . . " Nabiki held up the dress teasingly.
"5000 yen for one day. If there's any tear or stain on it when you return it back to me, you will pay for the full cost of the dress. You could keep it then if you want." she remarked with a straight face and somehow kept herself from laughing at Nabiki's jaw dropping expression.
"Just be careful with it, Nabiki. It's rather expensive and I don't want it to wear out so soon." She winked at her sister.
"Jeez Akane, for a moment there I thought you had gotten a bit smarter." Her sister chuckled.
"Oh, don't tempt me. I may change my mind . . . "
"Got to go, have errands to run." Nabiki quickly commented and stalked out of the room, taking with her the black dress.
The teasing smile left Akane's face as soon as Nabiki disappeared from view. Heavily, she sighed as she placed her small round mirror back on the table. She was proud of the way she had handled Nabiki's prying questions. It hid the pain she had not been able to disguise last weekend when endless tears had flowed down her face and stained the same dress her sister now held. She shook her head at the thought and turned her gaze to the brewing clouds outside her window. She felt the cool breeze pick up again, and she closed her eyes as it brushed along her skin.
Change . . . That single word echoed throughout her mind, breaking into the darkness that had became her haven. As the unconscious thought in her head receded into oblivion, languidly, her eyes began to open. She stared intently at the dark clouds for one final time before heading out of her room.***
The fervent argument between Shampoo and Ukyou was the first thing she heard as she stepped into the living room. Her father was quick to make her take note of the situation by pointing an accusing finger at Ranma, who was plastered like a sandwich between Shampoo and Ukyou and was looking toward her for resolution. Although this was nothing new, her stomach still cringed at the sight at the image of Ranma being snuggled by them. If that disaster with the date had not occurred last weekend, she would have been outright furious and would not have hesitated to break up the ugly scene before her. However, because of the disastrous date, a small part of that intense feeling she had had died. Instead, she stood passively to one side of the room, and watched objectively as Shampoo and Ukyou quarreled over which food Ranma should eat.
"Don't just stand there, Akane. Do something." Her father urged.
At the sudden sound of her name, Ranma immediately pushed Shampoo off his lap and urged Ukyou to release his arm. He turned to her with a look of fear. In reflex, he raised his arms up defensively as to fend her off. "Akane! Ah, this is not what you think! I-" He was abruptly cut off as Shampoo gave him one of her fierce hugs.
"Ranma was eating Shampoo's food like a good husband!" Shampoo declared proudly as she snuggled up to him.
"You hussy! Ranma was eating my food!" Ukyou angrily threw in as she tried to pull Ranma away.
"Hey stop it, both of you! Let go of me!" Ranma pleaded. However, like his fruitless struggles, his words went unheeded. The heated argument between Shampoo and Ukyou intensified and any moment it would lead into an all out fight.
"Aren't you going to help him, Akane?" Her father questioned.
"I'm quite sure he can take care of himself, Dad."
"Akane . . . Is something wrong?" Her father looked at her in concern when he noted that she had made the comment without a trace of anger.
"Nothing is wrong."
"Then why are you . . . "
"Why I am so calm about this? Give me a break Dad. I only have so much energy to spend each day and being angry takes a large chunk of that." she joked, and gave him a weary smile. "I'm just tired, that's all."
"Hmmm, you do seem a bit pale." Her father reached out and lightly placed a hand over her forehead.
She pushed his hand away.
"Akane, I was only-"
"I know . . . " She whispered and gave his hand a light squeeze trying to soften the pain she saw in his eyes, knowing she was the cause. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine."
Her father sighed. "But you don't look well. Why don't you have Dr. Tofu take a look?"
"I will." She nodded her head and stepped away from him.
"Akane?" Her father called out.
She stopped and looked back at him.
"If you have any problems or need someone to talk to, I am always here for you."
She stared at her father in silence, taking in the sight of his long black hair that brushed from his forehead to hang freely down his back, the distinguished mustache that he had born so proudly all these years and his favorite brown gi which he wore constantly. His light brown eyes were always filled with worry at the slightest indication that either she or her sisters were in harm's way, and his warm caring smiles were bestowed upon them freely, beaming with so much pride and love. Childhood memories began to replay in her mind of how she had playfully tugged that same long black hair and mustache. She remembered how she regularly wore a gi of her own too, to be just like him.
He did not look so much different now than he had back then. Except his once youthful face now held some wrinkles. She had never before realized how much time had passed, or how much had changed between them after her mother's death. Since then she had created a wall around herself and distanced herself from her father. For being close to him was a painful reminder of how close she had been to her mother, and how much it really hurt when she passed away. Yet, he had always been there for her. He was ever present, to support her if she ever fell. To guide her if she was ever lost. To protect her if she was ever in danger. He was there . . .
"D-Dad?"
"Yes Akane?"
She walked back toward him. Once close enough, she hugged him. "Thanks . . . for being there." She hoarsely whispered.
Surprised by her sudden display of affection, her father slowly hugged her back.
"I want you to know, no matter what happens, I will always be your little girl." She softly murmured before she released him.
"Of course you always will be my little girl Akane." Her father chuckled and patted her back.
She smiled sadly, seeing the pride in his eyes and the bright smile on his face that seemed to remove several years of wrinkles. She wanted to remember this moment, for she felt as though this might be the last time she would see him this way. Her heart constricted at the thought. "I-I'm going to see Dr. Tofu."
"But Akane, you haven't eaten yet, and Kasumi is setting the table."
"I'm not hungry." She doubted whether, even if she had been hungry, she would have had any appetite after seeing Ranma with Shampoo and Ukyou. "I'll be back later."
"All right then." Her father said.
She walked to the patio, avoiding Shampoo and Ukyou along the way as they played a game of tug-of-war using Ranma as the rope. She then stepped out into the front yard.
"Akane!" She heard Ranma call out to her. She ignored it, and in silence, walked through the gates
Japanese words used:
kami -- God
sama -- used after a name to denote respect
Acknowledgments:
Many people had contributed in helping me created this story. Because of them, my experience had been both fun and educational. I would like to take this opportunity to thank them.Ken—for your invaluable information of Japanese cultures and names : P
Fion—for your inspiring poems J
Readers—for all your support ^o^
Lastly, my Editors, who had painstakingly edited each and every revisions that I posted when a whim to make some changes strikes me ; ) Without their help, this story would have been extremely difficult to read.
Editors:
Chi—you have been so patient, listening to my endless blabberings, and helped me come in terms of what I wanted to write. By breaking through the chaos in my mind, you kept me focus. ^_^.
Nonsequiter—you had cleared away the mists that obscured my vision, helped me realized the errors of my ways and set me on the correct path that lead toward the light. Because of your guidance, everything was made right. ^_^.
I thank you all for spending the time in helping me.
-remi ^_~.
vers: 01/06/01
Versions:
Chapter 1—1st & 2nd drafts Chi
Chapter 2—1st draft Chi, 2nd & final draft Nonsequiter 3rd, minor revs. Me
Email: remigirl@oocities.com Fanfics: http://www.oocities.org/TimesSquare/Realm/4845/RanFanfics.html