The Return to Normalcy
by Elisteran
Disclaimer: The characters and back-story of Ranma 1/2 are the creation
of Rumiko Takahashi.
"It's been fun, Ranma. Real fun." The girl's tone didn't sound too
pleased,though. "Now go away and *leave* *me* *alone*!" A box of
clothes was thrown out the door at the man standing by the stairs.
"Akane! No! Don't do this to me! Don't do this to us!" was the
plaintive whine in response. "Come on, we can work things out! Akane!"
The door slammed shut. The man tensed his fists -- he could break it
down, he could duck outside and jump in through the window, he
could... argh! he savagely hit the air with his fists. This wasn't the
Akane he knew.
Aha! "Akane! I know it's not really you saying that! That Stork
character messed with your head, that's all! I'll go pound a cure out
of him! Just wait for me!"
He ran off and was gone. Inside the apartment Akane only sighed. 'That
idiot. He thinks this is a problem he can just beat up.' She continued
to pack her belongings. Several years of living with Ranma let her
know just how he'd react, so she wasn't worried about him surprising
her. 'First he'll fight, then he'll go off and train, then fight some
more. Probably land himself in some new love triangle, or chasing some
new cure.'
Akane sighed again, tears coming to her eyes. 'Why won't he ever grow
up!? I have... and I don't think I can keep waiting for him.' At this,
she sat down, and let the tears flow. She knew it was best this way,
knew she should be gone by the time Ranma returned. 'A clean
separation is the only way.' She should be gone, and not leave a
forwarding address. Maybe then Ranma and she could give up on each
other and go their separate ways.
-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*
Ichiro Tokugawa was feeling rather proud of himself. He had just
earned his black belt, been praised by his boss at work,
and he was pretty sure that raven-haired beauty over at the bar was
looking at him. He raised his beer to her, and went back to his
daydreams.
Still he was surprised when an hour later or so the empty seat at his
table became filled with curves -- he slowly dragged his eyes upward,
appreciating every bump he saw, until his bleary vision was filled
with big brown eyes. "You look pretty happy; big day today?"
"The biggest," he hopefully didn't slur. "I'm a -- a black belt now."
She didn't look too pleased, so he bragged a bit more. "I shma,
smashed 2 bricks at my test. Broke him my firsht blow. Bam!" Ichiro
was vaguely aware he wasn't making sense, but he wasn't worried. He
could tell the girl was impressed.
"2 bricks!" she exclaimed. "You're a martial artist!?"
"I shure am." He nodded sagely. "But I wouldna hurt no pretty lady."
Hey, she was blushing almost as red as his own alcohol-ruddened
skin. It just made her prettier. "Here, have a drink." He straightened
up and resolved to annunc, no, e-nun-ciate his words
better. "Waitress!"
She smiled at him. "So what are you going to do tomorrow, warrior? Go
off and train to defeat your enemies? Rescue magical princesses in
durance vile?"
"I wash gonna just go to work, but I could save you a few times
tonight..." Man, he was a better flirt than he had thought. She looked
interested. He downed a shot for luck.
She sipped at the foam on top of her mug. "That... sounds like it
might be fun." She took a much bigger gulp. She continued to drink
steadily through the night, draining her last glass only when Ichiro
got up to leave. She drunkenly wove her arm through his, and staggered
home with him.
Six months later, Ichiro still liked to think back on that first
meeting when he got up in the morning. He'd wake up and stare at the
curves of her perfect form, content to nestle in the warmth of the bed
they shared. He'd stop when he came home from the office, his worries
drained away when he heard her cursing in the kitchen. "Akane, dear,
don't worry about it, we'll order out. We'll have some sushi and watch
the sunset in the park."
And she'd reply, "No, I'll do this. I will master it." The last
growled, as if a vow to an ancient and terrible enemy. And he'd back
off, intimidated. It was a ritual, one of many that they had already
developed. Life was perfect.
After one dinner, Ichiro kissed Akane. "Your cooking really is good,
my dear. I'd swear it was a restaurant meal if I hadn't seen you
working away at it." His girlfriend blushed fiercely.
"So what do you want to do tonight, honey?" Akane looked like she was
fighting the temptation to sleep ; she had worked an early shift
cleaning at the hospital. Ichiro charitably gave no hint in his
expression of the plans he had made; they weren't that important,
after all. "No," he said easily instead, "I was just going to work out
a bit tonight."
"Oh, good, then I'll be going to bed. Good night, sweetums," Akane
yawned and stretched. Ichiro's eyes involuntarily flickered over her
form. He sighed inside. The clubs really would have been good tonight,
an excuse to run his hands over her on the dance floor, to watch other
men envy his good fortune...
He kissed Akane good night and resolved himself to a stiff working
out. A few minutes of stretching to work the kinks out, and he went
into the room where they kept the weight bench. His good humor helped
insulate him from the prick of annoyance he felt when he saw Akane had
been in there.
She worked out occasionally, he knew, doing some martial arts practice
most days when she arrived home, before he did, but she did not seem
to respect the weights. She just piled all of the weights he had on
the bar, to get them out of the way, he supposed. He had tried to talk
her into just leaving the unused ones leaning against the wall, but
she seemed to ignore him. She'd promise she wouldn't put any weights
on there unless she was prepared to use them herself, and every time
he came home to discover it was overloaded.
Sighing slightly, he spent a few minutes removing the weights, and
then started his first set. He was trying to increase his limits in
hopes it'd help his speed and power when he performed his kata. Plus,
it might help in bag work and brick breaking... the tests for
promotion were in theory balanced, but some parts were considered more
impressive than others. And a strong man is the most impressive of
all.
By the time an hour had passed, he was completely spent. He didn't
bother packing a lunch for the next day; he'd pick something up from a
street vendor. It'd be a nice ordinary day.
The next day, when he came home, it was clear the day had been
anything but. Akane curiously asked, "What's gotten into you? You seem
excited." He had barely kissed her hello before going into the room
and changing into his gi.
"I saw the most incredible thing today. I was buying my lunch at the
yattai by the river, when I saw this girl chasing an old man. They
were, they were..." Words failed him, as he waved his hands around
helplessly.
Akane half-chuckled. "They weren't fighting, were they? You probably
mean a little girl running after her grandpa."
Ichiro nodded, his eyes. alight. "Oh, they were fighting, all
right. The girl -- she jumped further than I ever thought was
possible. Her kicks couldn't have been all that strong, as fast as she
was going, but it was just amazing!" And the last, where Akane could
barely hear him, "her hair... so red, so enchanting..."
Akane froze mid-sip, her coffee mug half raised to her lips. She
turned and looked at Ichiro, noticing the almost-forgotten but still
familiar gleam of admiration in his eyes -- an admiration which would
too soon lead to obsession. Her face a frozen mask, Akane swiveled and
went silently into the kitchen, wiping her hands free of the powder
that was all that remained of her mug.
Ichiro barely saw her go. He turned and went into the exercise room,
hoping to improve himself, so that next time he saw the red-haired
girl, he might impress her. It wasn't a sexual interest, it was... a
challenge. And he bent himself to the task. He never heard Akane slip
out the door, gone again in search of normalcy.