Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Distance ❯ Chapter 7 ( Chapter 7 )

He awoke from a deep and dreamless sleep to someone gently shaking him. Ranma pried his eyes open and winced away from the harsh light of morning stabbing into his face. “Who… fuck…” he groaned and sat up, stiff and sore beyond all comprehension, swiping at the hands that tried to hold him.

“Hey, Ranma, it's just me, Kenichi,” Ranma cracked his eyes open slowly, and stared at the sweaty, exhausted face of Kenichi Miike, “we gotta stop meeting like this.” The man said wryly.

Ranma laughed tiredly and grimaced at the awful taste and smell that assaulted his mouth and nose. “Fuck, where the fuck am… I…” and then he looked around.

In the daytime, his apartment looked even worse. Police were crawling over every inch of it, stepping over shredded books and broken furniture. For having been so sparsely furnished, Ranma wasn't sure how they'd found enough things to make a mess with. His clothes were spread all over the room, torn to shreds, and Ranma grimaced at the sight of his favorite green hat with someone's… leavings in it. The curtains had apparently been torn off, Ranma noted with fresh dismay - his mother had made those curtains, embroidered them with images of China. He felt stupid for even being upset, however, when Kaibutsu was—

“Where is he? Where's my dog?” Ranma asked suddenly, noticing the absence of the body.

“Don't worry, he's just outside the door in a box, he's safe,” Kenichi looked Ranma up and down like he might be some dangerous, undiscovered animal, “what about you, hm?”

Ranma looked away from Kenichi's concerned gaze. “M'fine; why d'you care so much?” he asked, feeling angry and confused. Fresh tears fell across his face and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes until there was a kaleidoscope of blues running across his eyes and his head swam.

“You remind me of someone,” Kenichi said softly, patting Ranma's shoulder and standing, “right down to that bad attitude.” Ranma snorted and pulled his hands away, blinking and sniffing hard.

“Ranma!” Kasumi's voice brought his head up with a snap, and men moved to stop her from entering. Ranma stood up and walked over to her, carefully stepping around policemen, and moved through the two-man blockade and into Kasumi's open arms. “Nabiki told me everything this morning! I was so worried!”

“I'm sorry for worryin' you,” he said softly, looking out of the corner of his eye in the hug at the closed cardboard box containing Kaibutsu's body.

“I called your mother, told her you were alright,” she pushed him away, “Ono's at home with Kimiko - I didn't think it would be good to bring her here.”

Ranma nodded firmly and they pulled away from each other. Kasumi put her hand on his cheek and looked him up and down. “Oh, Ranma, you're filthy… c'mon, let's get you to the clinic.” Her dress was spotted with filth and Ranma grimaced.

“But… Kaibutsu…” Ranma motioned to the box, and Kasumi looked at it in surprise, and then sadness.

“Ranma… I'm so sorry…” she bent over and picked up the box with a little difficulty, and Ranma let out a little cry and took it from her.

“You shouldn't have t'carry that,” he felt the weight of his dog in his arms and shuddered.

“Neither should you,” she said softly. Ranma looked away and she sighed and gently ushered him down the hallway, down the stairs, and out the door.

Several people and news reporters were in front of the Maison Ikou, and the manager, Mrs. Shibata, was trying desperately to get them to go away. She glared at Ranma when he passed, but he ignored her as politely and effectively as he could whilst carrying his dead dog in a box and wearing a blood-stained gi. He was phenomenally uncomfortable, and the sudden press of people around him and Kasumi made his heart race in his chest.

“Please, oh my! Please, we need to— oh!” Kasumi cried out as she was shoved, “It wasn't this bad coming in!” She called over her shoulder weakly. The reporters shoved microphones and lights in their faces, and only Ranma's grip on the box kept him from punching the nearest one.

Eventually, they made it through the throng and into the back seat of Nabiki's waiting car. They got in and Ranma pressed his forehead against the box as Nabiki pulled away from the curb, cursing as she weaved in and out of a throng of reporters, teenagers, and policemen all trying to keep them back. An officer tapped on the window as she slowly moved past, and Nabiki rolled the window down.

“Go down that street and take a left, we've got that street cleared of people.” He said, looking inside briefly. Nabiki nodded and thanked him, rolling the window up with an electric whir before setting off and following the young officer's directions.

Ranma felt like he was made out of stone. Only the gentle press of Kasumi's hand on his arm told him that he was made of flesh. “Ranma, when we get to the house…” Kasumi trailed off with a small noise.

“Look, Bro, you're in for one more shock, so just try to relax.” Ranma's heart sped up so fast that he felt it thumping against his sternum. “We… well… Akane might be there.” His breath caught in his throat and stayed there; suffocated with emotion was not the best way to go. “We weren't going to call her, but she apparently was watching the news and, well…”

“She told us not to tell you… where she lived, so you wouldn't try to come after her.” Kasumi said painfully, putting her arm around his shoulders. “It will be better for us to let you two get reacquainted on your own, though.” Ranma nodded, dumbly.

Hugging the box so tight he almost crushed it, Ranma stared at the back of Nabiki's seat, shifting in his uncomfortable gi; the dried blood had made it stiff and itchy. But Ranma knew even if he was wearing fresh clothes, he'd still feel like there were ants swarming under his skin.

Akane. Akane. Her face drifted across his vision, and he shook his head and rested it against the box again. Did he even want to see her? After all this time, what the hell was he going to say to her? He was so drained, so tired… “You don't have to see her right away. She's probably out, anyway, getting supplies; she never could wait for very long.” Kasumi said reassuringly. They pulled to a stop in front of Tofuu's clinic, and quickly got him out of the car and around to the gate. Ranma felt like they were dragging him through sludge. He could hardly move his feet.

“My clothes…” Ranma said as they helped him to the bathroom, shucking off the Chinese slippers he still hadn't removed before he even entered the house. Kaibutsu's box was pried from his hands by Ono who seemed to appear from nowhere, and a whispered conversation and some gentle prodding got him into the bathroom at the back of the house. It all took place in a span of minutes, but to Ranma, who was swimming through a sticky sea of discomfort and confusion, it took an eternity.

“There are clothes in the laundry room,” Ono said when Kasumi and Nabiki had bowed out, taking the box from Ono with great care, “you'll be okay by yourself, Ranma?” the older man asked gently. “Your chi is very unbalanced.”

“No kidding?” Ranma squawked out. Ono sighed and helped him out of his clothes.

“I'll… take care of these.” He said, holding Ranma's disgusting, almost-unrecognizable gi away from himself like it was a wet cat. Ranma shuddered at the thought and turned away, sitting on the stool and turning on the cold water as Ono stepped out into the laundry room, closing the door behind him. The bath was already steaming and he looked longingly at it as the cold spray hit him in the chest. The bath tub, and even the entire room, reminded him of the one at the Tendou Dojo, and Ranma felt a pang of strange nostalgia, strange for a time like this.

The cold water felt refreshing on his flesh; he didn't realize how hot he'd become in his filthy clothes. He was all over grime, and smelled awful. Scrubbing until he was almost red with a cloth and the least-flowery soap he could find on the low shelf by the showerhead, Ranma half-sobbed and cleaned himself.

The water going into the drain at his feet turned red, then pink, then clear as he washed. He undid his braid, putting the tie around his wrist, and scrubbed his hair. There was a small knock on the door to the bathroom, and Ranma's heart caught, hands mid-scrub. “Your mother and father will be here tonight, Ranma,” came Kasumi's voice through the door, “they want you to come home with them.”

“Oh,” he called back over the sound of the rushing faucet, “maybe.” He saw Kasumi's shadow through the shoji. It moved as if to open the door, and then she probably caught herself, turned, and the shadow disappeared as she left. Ranma sighed wearily and finished rinsing out his hair, conditioned it, then rinsed that as well. Feeling cleaner, he rinsed off the floor until it was clean of suds, and then stepped into the waiting bathwater. “Ahhh…” he sighed as he sat down in the tub; it was slightly smaller than the one at the Tendous, but still roomy by most standards.

Dangling one foot out of the tub, Ranma sank until his head was below the water. He watched his hair, black vipers coiling through the water, and the glimmering lights in the ceiling of the small room. Bubbles rose in a rush as he surfaced again, sputtering a little and wiping his face clear of the hot water. And then he leaned against the tub and tried not to think about Akane.