Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Distance ❯ Chapter 22 ( Chapter 22 )

Later that evening, Ranma, dressed in a nice suit borrowed from Ono that just barely fit, stood outside Akane's apartment and knocked on the door. He'd moved his stuff back to Kasumi's earlier that day, and met the questioning eyes of the elder Tendou sisters with a sad smile. They knew he couldn't just move in on Akane, not when she had a life of her own.

Even if that life included a murderous boyfriend.

Ranma's knuckles cracked as he clenched his fist; luckily it wasn't the one holding the small bouquet of white lilies, for friendship, that Kasumi had suggested he bring. He was never very good at giving flowers to his previous girlfriends - they all seemed to know hanakotoba, the Flower Language, and Ranma always seemed to give the wrong ones. “Oh, it's your birthday? Here are some carnations” seemed perfectly natural to him, but apparently when your girlfriend knows how to “read” flowers, it told her you were disappointed she was even born.

Ranma's cheek tingled slightly at the memory.

His knock was eventually answered by Makoto. She was wearing a slinky violet dress that went well with her eyes, and dipped low in the front. Dutifully not letting his gaze fall any lower than her prominent collar bones, Ranma handed her the lilies and was rewarded with a lazy, very Nabiki-like smile. “Nice, Ranma - lilies, very sweet,” she sniffed them and motioned for him to come inside. He stood just inside the doorway.

Takahiro stared at him from the couch, shimmering suit jacket open to show off his half-buttoned, floral-patterned shirt. He looked like a lounge lizard.

“Hey, Takahiro.” Ranma said evenly, slipping out of his borrowed dress shoes and stepping further into the apartment. Makoto looked back and forth between them for a moment.

“Hey, Ranma; nice suit.” He didn't sound like he thought Ranma's suit was very nice, he sounded like he wanted to turn Ranma into miso.

“Thanks, yours is pretty ugly, man.” Makoto snorted, and politely covered her mouth whilst she giggled. Ranma swore he saw steam come out of Takahiro's ears, and grinned. “It's always better to be honest, Takahiro.”

He opened his mouth to retort, but Akane chose that moment to emerge from her room, and Takahiro clamped his mouth shut and settled for smirking at him instead. Akane was wearing a very small red dress that barely brushed her knees, and had straps as thin as a thought.

“Hey, babe, you're wearing the dress I bought you,” Takahiro said smoothly, reaching up and pulling her down onto the sofa with him carefully, “it looks great on you. Maybe we should just stay here, huh?” his hand brushed against her thigh and Akane pushed away from him embarrassedly.

Ranma saw Makoto's look, a look like poison, and she turned away and moved into the kitchen, muttering that she had to put her lilies in some water. Akane managed to disentangle herself from Takahiro just as another knock sounded at the door. “That'll be Nabs!” she said excitedly, rushing over to pull the door open.

But it wasn't. It was Officer Kentaro Miike out of uniform. Ranma glanced quickly at Takahiro - he was examining his fingernails, but his entire body screamed tension.

“Oh, uh,” Kentaro seemed flustered at having a beautiful girl answer the door, “h-hello, um… I'm Officer Miike. You must be Akane Tendou, the woman Ranma Saotome is staying with?” he looked past her briefly and caught Ranma's eye.

Akane smiled at him. “Are you the one who brought him home after those boys tried to rob him?”

Kentaro nodded. “Yes, I am. May I come in, Miss Tendou?”

“Oh! Yes, please, Officer.” He stepped inside and Akane closed the door after him. Ranma walked over to him and Akane bowed and moved away, but not too far.

“What's goin' on?” Ranma asked quietly.

“Let's talk in the foyer, hm?” Ranma nodded and they stepped out, Ranma bowing to Akane and closing the door behind them.

“Kenichi has a real hard-on for this case, Ranma; he was up all night and most of today working on it.” Kentaro didn't bother being indirect.

“What case? Master Gyaru or…”

“The whole thing is all fucked, Ranma,” he sighed, running a hand through his short brown hair, “I shouldn't even be talking to you about this, but my brother insisted that you'd do somethin' stupid if I didn't.”

“Yeah, he's prolly right.” Ranma said quietly.

Kentaro's expression was very serious. “Ranma, Kenichi's son died because he tried to go toe-to-toe with some yakuza trying to muscle their way in on his mother's business.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, that's why he cares so much,” Kentaro sighed, “he'd be older than you if he was still alive. And you better damn well keep livin', or my brother is going to crawl back in a bottle.”

Ranma put up his hands when Kentaro poked him in the chest, hard. “Okay, okay.”

“So, when I tell you what I'm about to tell you, promise me you aren't gonna go fuckin' anybody up, okay? I know what you little martial artist shits are like, and—”

“I get it, I get it! Jeez, yer worse than Akane…” Ranma muttered.

Kentaro didn't laugh. “That kid that tried to unzip you on Sunday is Kyoya Arai.”

“No.”

“Yes. He's the third son of Yamato Arai, and his father is not happy that we aren't pressing charges against you.”

“Who's Yamato to me?” Ranma asked, not really wanting the answer.

“He's not someone you want to trifle with yourself, but we can handle him,” Kentaro looked around for a minute, then back at Ranma, “it's the sons we're fuckin' worried about.”

“Why? The one in there,” he jutted his thumb at the closed door, “is not someone I give a squirt uh piss about, Kentaro.”

“Well, you should, maybe even two or three. His record is completely clean, Ranma.”

“Whazzat mean?”

“It means,” Kentaro said patiently, as though Ranma were a five year old who needed to be told not to use the stove, “that he is protected.”

“Protected, like by his dad?”

“By the Sakaume-gumi.” Ranma frowned.

“But… I thought you said they was `designated,' as in, they don't kill nobody. What's he poisonin' me an' beatin' the shit outta my boss for?” Ranma asked gruffly, anger flaring; they weren't even playing by the rules they had set out for themselves.

“I dunno, but when we talked to Yamato, he seemed really… irritated, like, he knew what was goin' on,” Kentaro sighed, “I think you were right, Ranma. That tetrodotoxin came from the Arai family doctor—”

“Wait, wait, wait, why would a family doctor have tetro-whatsit?” Ranma interrupted, feeling his mouth stumble over the unfamiliar word.

“In small doses, it's for treating pain,” Kentaro paused, his expression grave, “Ranma, he was trying to kill you, for real.”

“Fuck, I know that.” Ranma said cockily. “But he didn't, did he? And Ryouga, pfft, that ox was up and runnin' around like five hours later.”

“He got a quarter of what you did, Ranma - jeez, really, only five hours?”

“Yeah.”

“Damn…” silence stretched, and Kentaro seemed to recover from his initial shock. “Anyway, the point is, be careful. Don't eat anything you haven't prepared yourself, and—”

“Why the fuck don't you arrest him right now, he's right in there?” Ranma hissed angrily, pointing furiously at the door.

“Because we don't have enough evidence, Ranma - we arrested the baker who made the mochi, but he was just as surprised as we were that it was poisoned,” Kentaro put his hand on Ranma's shoulder, “relax, it's gonna be okay. We'll get whoever did this, just sit tight.”

“Sittin' around not doin' nothin' is worse than bein' poisoned.” Ranma grumped, shoving his hands into the pockets of his suit.

Kentaro smirked. “I bet it is,” he looked at his watch, “I better get going; gotta get some sleep.” He punctuated the statement with a yawn and they shook hands. Kentaro left, and Ranma stood there watching his retreating back, shuffling around in his socks.

Warring within himself, Ranma swung the door open and stepped back inside Akane's apartment. Takahiro was, very deliberately, not looking at him. Ranma stood there, staring at him, fury waging a war with sense in his head. Akane and Makoto were in the kitchen, talking quietly. They glanced at him, he looked back, and then focused on Akane's beautiful face and wanted nothing more than to walk over, hug her, and tell her that her boyfriend was yakuza scum.

He opened his mouth to say something, but someone knocked again at the door, potentially saving him from embarrassment and a fight that he didn't need. “I'll get that…” Ranma sighed, turning around only to have the door open before he could touch the knob.

“Are you people ready to go, or what?” Nabiki asked brusquely as she stepped inside. On her heels was a young man in a suit as expensive as Ranma's old apartment. Nabiki, too, was dressed extravagantly, and her hair was pinned up in a modern, curly style.

“Wow, Nabs, you look great!” Akane came around the counter and hugged her sister. They seemed to share a quiet moment before Nabiki looked at Ranma with a proud smile.

“Ranma, this is Toya Hisamura,” Ranma bowed to the handsome man, and Toya bowed back.

“It's so nice to meet you, finally, Ranma - I've heard so much about you from Nabiki and Kasumi.”

“It's all lies,” Ranma stage-whispered conspiratorially, and Toya laughed, “Kiddin'; I'm your sister's date for the evenin'.”

Toya raised an eyebrow, but the smile didn't fade. “Oh? Good.”

“Hey, big brother, you gonna give your sister a hug? I haven't seen you in two months!” Makoto walked over and gave Toya a fierce squeeze before he could respond, then turned and gave Nabiki the same.

“Make any money on vacation?” Nabiki asked abruptly.

“Oh yeah - Thailand is great for the betting racket.” Everyone else in the room seemed to be uncomfortable with the topic of conversation, except for Takahiro, who remained a silent and staring presence on the sofa.

“Oh, hello, Takahiro,” Toya bowed coldly, “I did not realize you were coming to dinner.” Takahiro stood and bowed, then opened his mouth.

“Uh, we should get going!” Akane said hastily, before hurrying everyone out the door. Ranma heard an audible “click” as Takahiro's mouth clamped shut on his words.

There was a limo waiting in the street. Ranma had never been in one, but he couldn't feel very excited at the moment. Partly because his ex-fiancée's new fiancée was trying to kill him, and he couldn't do anything about it - okay, that was the entire reason. He felt like an actor in some horrible play where all the jokes were at his expense.

Ryouga, Kasumi, Ono and Akari were already in the limo, sitting at one end. “Whoo, Ryouga, you clean up good, man!”

“Hey, Ranma! Good to see you're feeling well enough to make fun of me, asshole!” Ryouga said without heat. Ranma laughed and started to feel a little more comfortable; with Ryouga around, and their old rivalry blossoming into an easy friendship, he felt like he had people on his side. He just wished Akane was. She was clinging to Takahiro's arm like a limpet, so Ranma sat as close to Makoto as possible, putting his arm around her gingerly and feeling like he was in high school again.

They rode to the restaurant amidst scraps of conversation that Ranma didn't pay attention to. Halfway there he removed his arm from Makoto's shoulder on the pretense that he needed to adjust his bowtie and never put it back. She didn't seem to care. She was enthralled listening to her brother's stories about being in America and interning with a business there.

Ranma stared out the window, at Akane's reflection in it. She laughed at something Takahiro said, and he watched her, carefully.

What he saw made his heart thud in his chest.

Her eyes shifted, almost barely, and bored straight into his reflection in the window as Takahiro continued to talk. He watched as she laughed again, but her eyes narrowed a fraction, and there was something in her eyes that was a lie.

Akane was an actress, he remembered suddenly, as though the thought had been background noise until now. And then her eyes moved back to her fiancée, and she smiled so warmly there was no way it wasn't a real smile.

But maybe he didn't need to forget about her just yet.