Chapter Five
Authoress: Keishi
BIG FAT WARNING:
Contains m/m relationships
ONLY read if you are of age and open-minded!!!
Disclaimer
"Please father, give me strength," he murmured. "Give me strength today in this match against the Saotome boy. I fear my driving desire will drown out my concentration, and I need all that can be afforded me this day. This is it, father, this is the one. The day I shall finally have Akane to myself." He lowered his hands a fraction and opened them. A small, intricately carved one-dimensional wooden sculpture of a short-haired Akane smiled back at him. His eyes clouded with tears.
"I am tired of loving an illusion!" he shouted to the trees. "I want something more than paper and pencils, a faded image I can barely recall. I want warmth, closeness; I want secrets told to me, and only me. I want those sweet, delicate arms wrapped around my body, I want to smell that beautiful hair, get lost in those brown eyes forever." His voice lowered to a whisper. "I just want... love."
--
Ryoga lifted himself out of the hot furo, water sluicing off his reddened skin. He dried himself off cursorily and began pulling on his pants amidst the stifling humidity of the tiny area. The small, rustic inn didn't have a separate changing room, so the Lost Boy made sure he was decent enough to rush across the hall to the bedroom, and grabbed his shirt. He entered his and Ranma's room some time later, after first wandering into a broom closet, and the bathroom again, respectively.
Ranma, not looking up from his perch on his futon, finished putting on his blood-red tunic, busily getting ready for the challenge match. "Ryoga, why didn't you just use the hot springs instead of the furo? That's what we're here for, isn't it?" he mumbled, voice muffled.
Ryoga blushed lightly. "The hot springs are just too far across the inn..." he let the embarrassing reason trail off his tongue.
Ranma stifled a laugh, the corners of his mouth tugging into a small smile. "Weren't sure if you could find your way back before nightfall, eh, Mr. P?" He glanced up at the boy when he heard no retort. "Ryo--," his words died in his mouth.
Ryoga was standing in the doorway, shirt in one hand, towel in the other, rubbing his wet, unbound hair. Tendrils fell haphazardly into his eyes, and coupled with the drops of water still clinging seductively to his nude upper body, Ranma thought the Lost Boy looked like a modern-day Adonis. Gods, he just wanted to...
Before Ranma even knew what he was doing, he had crawled on hands and knees towards the dripping boy. His face was even with Ryoga's flat, muscular stomach and his hand had reached out to the wanderer's face, completely of it's own volition. Ryoga caught the pigtailed boy's hand and pressed a palm to the side of Ranma's face, stopping his movements. The directionless boy raised Ranma's face upward and looked in his eyes. "Please, don't," he whispered, pleaded, holding Ranma's hand and cupping his head; not pushing him away, just holding. Ryoga's eyes were panic-filled, with an edge of need threading through the honey depths. The Lost Boy's breathing was shallow, and his pulse raced through the fingertips that slid down and held Ranma's chin oh-so-gently.
"Then put your shirt on and stop tempting me," Ranma said abruptly, jerking away. He waited until he heard the soft rustling of cloth, and only when he was certain the Lost Boy was fully dressed, did he look at him again. Ryoga was wearing a funky grin.
"What?" Ranma said defensively. His voice had come out a tiny bit harsher than he had intended. He softened the rough word with a small smile.
The Lost Boy smiled back at him, practically beaming. "You've never done that before."
Ranma scowled. "Done what?"
"Lost your head when you looked at me undressed. I mean, how many times have we been naked in each other's company and you never acted like that before."
Ranma looked up at the ceiling, truly wishing he wasn't there at that particular moment. He mumbled something underneath his breath.
"What? Didn't catch that," Ryoga leaned down to the other boy, head cocked to one side.
"I said I never had the urge to kiss ya before today either!!" Ranma yelled in the wanderer's ear. Ryoga winced, but otherwise remained calm. "Dammit, Ryoga, I don't know what's going on with me anymore. Maybe it's this spring, maybe there's something in it--"
Ryoga gave a pained look. "Ranma, you know that's not it."
"Well, these feelings ain't natural, that's for sure," Ranma huffed, crossing his arms, trapping his fingers from making their way to the Lost Boy's gorgeous, tousled hair. Ryoga stood back up, slowly and deliberately, leaning against the doorjamb. He too crossed his arms in front of his chest, and both boys wore identical expressions of concern and confusion.
"Are you sure you're ready for this, Ranma?" Ryoga tactfully switched subjects, scrutinizing the young martial artist sitting before him.
Ranma put on his last bracer and glanced up at Ryoga neutrally, all traces of what had just happened wiped from his face. "As I'll ever be. Don't tell me you're worried about me, P-Chan?"
The Lost Boy bristled at the nickname, but concern was still written across his face. He frowned slightly, brow furrowed. "I just..." he grasped at words, "I dunno... just be careful, okay?"
Ranma barked out a laugh. "Are you kidding? Hey, I've fought _gods_, remember? One puny guy ain't going to hurt me."
Ryoga smiled wanly. "I remember you having a little help with that, you know. But seriously, you aren't... apprehensive... just a little bit?"
Ranma searched Ryoga's face for a long moment, then sighed. "Yeah, I guess I am-- a bit." He scratched his arm, expression thoughtful. "I keep wondering how he found us all the way out here. If it were at the Tendo dojo, I wouldn't think nothing of it, because, well, it's easy to find that place." Ryoga gave a dark look, unnoticed by Ranma. "I don't know how he found me, unless he followed us here, but still, he seems resourceful. And practical. Usually those two qualities together create one very ruthless person. He says he has honor, but how am I supposed to believe that? I guess I'll just have to wait until sundown to find out." He shrugged.
Ryoga blinked. "No offense, Ranma, but I would never have pegged you to be the analyzing type."
The pigtailed martial artist grinned. "I know, a lot of people underestimate me. That's part of the reason I win so much. It's a gift," the cocky youth said smugly, standing up. Ryoga stopped Ranma at the door, fingers brushing the material of his shirt. He pleaded with his eyes for Ranma to be serious.
Ranma looked at the Lost Boy for a brief moment, then nodded gravely. "I always take challenges seriously, Ryo-kun. You really have nothing to worry about." He laid a hand on the one that was preventing him from leaving, fingertips stroking the soft skin there, then skirted the Lost Boy, leaving the room. Ryoga sighed and followed. He had an ominous feeling about this fight.
--
Akane watched the retreating backs of the two boys from the sanctity of her suite window. Kasumi was behind her, humming softly as she sewed herself a new apron. Akane sighed and flopped down onto her bed, pulling her arms underneath her head and staring listlessly up at the ceiling.
After meeting Ranma's challenger in the woods earlier that day, Akane felt even more apprehensive about the fight. The mysterious golden boy didn't seem extraordinary, in fact, he had practically exuded plain ol' ordinary. However, some kind of warning bell kept ringing in her head every time she thought of him. She wanted to accompany Ranma to the clearing, but for some strange reason, something was holding her back. Some intangible force was preventing her from walking into that slowly darkening forest after her fiancee and friend. 'I'm probably just too scared,' she thought to herself, snorting silently.
When that thought finally processed in her head, Akane blinked large brown eyes at the ceiling, realization dawning. 'I...I'm scared? No! I can't be!' Getting up and making her way out of the suite, Akane marched down the hallway and out of the inn. She was not going to let her fright stop her from supporting Ranma during this challenge.
--
Ranma entered the clearing first, Ryoga close at his heels. Mitsukiro stood casually in the center, bokken resting against one shoulder. "Glad you could make it, Saotome," he said, voice serious, eyes glinting merrily in the last dregs of dusk.
Ranma just nodded, taking up position a few yards away from the golden boy. "A few questions before we begin." It wasn't an inquiry, but Mitsukiro nodded anyway.
"Who are you?"
Mitsukiro shrugged. "Like I said, unimportant. Next question."
Ranma pressed his lips together, refusing to allow the annoyance he felt at that response shatter his calm demeanor. "Alright. How did you find us?"
Mitsukiro blinked, surprised at the unexpected question. "Well, it's not like people don't know you..." At Ranma's confused glance, Mitsukiro shrugged again. "I knew you were in Nerima, so I asked around there. There was this bubbly purple-haired Chinese girl who was very helpful in hunting you down, as was this other curvy gymnast girl who blew black rose petals everywhere. They seemed to know a lot of information about a one Ranma Saotome," Mitsukiro finished, trailing, allowing his words to sink in and work whatever magic they might on his raven-haired opponent.
Ranma cocked his head to one side, after making a silent vow never to tell Shampoo or Kodachi again his whereabouts next vacation. Getting into a ready stance, he raised his hands, slowly, eyes intense. "You want a fight? You got it."
----
This story is currently on hiatus. Will I ever finish it? I cannot say for sure.
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