Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Distance ❯ Chapter 27 ( Chapter 27 )

Ranma waited three days to call Akane. He'd wanted to give her some space, even though he was worried for her safety. He was convinced, however, that the most important thing was to have faith in her, especially her ability to protect herself.

He sat by the phone in Kasumi and Ono's living room, Akane's number, scrawled in his hand on a piece of scratch paper clutched in his hand. Nabiki went to stay with Toya the night he showed back up, so that Ranma could take the guest room. But she had called a few times to give him updates on her conversations with Kenichi and Kentaro. On her first call, he remembered Makoto, told Nabiki, and Nabiki had made an irritated noise. “You're trying to set Makoto up right now!?” But then she paused, and grumbled that she'd mention her to Kentaro. After that, she only called to give him details, and to tell him what else he might want to say to the “yakuza” when he called them, her new advice peppered with information from Kentaro and Kenichi.

Ranma smiled a little giddily as he finally got up the courage to reach for the phone. He dialed quickly - despite being worried about the yakuza, or fakeuza, or whatever the hell they were, he was ecstatic to talk to Akane. She was rapidly feeling like his best friend, again, and he saw light at the end of the dark tunnel that had become his life. Again.

The phone rang twice before it was picked up. “Hello, Tendou and Hisamura residence; who is this?” Akane's voice sounded distracted.

“Hey, Akane, it's Ranma,” he couldn't keep the smile out of his voice, but he wasn't exactly trying very hard, “how are you?”

“Hey!” she sounded so happy to hear from him that his chest constricted a little, in a good, but tense way that made his head swim. “I'm really… happy you called,” she paused, sighed, “Makoto has been gone for hours, hanging out with Toya, and I'm just reading this script and feeling sorry for myself. Bleah.”

Ranma chuckled. “Sounds pretty pathetic,” he said, and she made a small moue of irritation, “why don't y'just hit somethin'?”

“Tried that; ended up destroying the wooden man in the courtyard.” There was satisfaction in that confession, and Ranma smirked.

“Good; y'got me to beat on, anyway,” Akane laughed, “I'm more durable.”

“That's true, you do have a hard head.”

“Aw, yer killin' me…” he winced and leaned back against the sofa, enjoying the sound of her voice. “Have you talked to him?” the question was not one he really wanted to ask, but she probably needed to talk if she had spoken with Takahiro.

Akane sighed heavily, static crackling. “No…” Ranma's heart leapt into his throat excitedly, “he didn't answer his cell phone, and I didn't want to call his house.”

Feigning curiosity to cover his disappointment, Ranma asked, “Why not?”

“Oh, well… he has this really creepy kid brother that he lives with.” She said softly. “He's a real weirdo - and he always answers the phone.”

Ranma laughed. “Akane,” he panted between guffaws, “is his name Kyoya?”

“Yeah…” Akane said cautiously.

“That's… that's the little squirt who… who…” he couldn't get the words out - Akane's sixth sense for creeps was accurate, for once.

“Who tried to rob you!?” she exploded. Ranma heard something crack, loudly, and wondered if it was her knuckles or someone's neck. Ranma stifled his laughter, as she sounded legitimately angry. “Ranma… what you said about Takahiro when I took you home from the hospital…” she trailed off uncomfortably, her voice quavering.

Ranma felt like smacking himself; they were having a perfectly nice conversation and he had to go and ruin it. He hadn't even insulted her and he somehow had made her upset. “Yeah?”

“Do… do you think he really tried to poison you?” she whispered, tears in her voice.

Ranma wished, more than anything, that he knew what to say to make her feel better, because he knew his answer was only going to make things worse. “Yes. I know he did.”

“Why didn't you tell me!?” she shouted, and he pulled the phone away from his ear a little.

“`Cause I didn't think you'd believe me, an' I didn't want you ta think I was tryin' to break you two up!” but he was talking to an empty line. He sighed wearily and put the phone back on the hook, tears stinging his eyes.

Honesty was always the best policy, except when he was concerned, apparently.

He stood up after a moment and wandered into the dining room, standing there with his hands in his pockets. Kasumi was breastfeeding Kimiko, and he looked away politely to give her privacy, even though she was wearing a blanket over her shoulders to protect her from prying eyes. He stared out the open shoji instead, momentarily enjoying the cool breeze that blew in even as he stared at Kaibutsu's unmarked grave, even as his emotions whipsawed back and forth between anger and sadness.

“Are you alright, Ranma?” Kasumi asked softly. She hadn't spoken to him much since he'd come back.

“Yeah, just… stuff. You okay?” he'd apologized for the yakuza presence in her home, but she had only smiled and nodded. He had no idea if she was angry with him or what.

“No, I'm scared,” she whispered, “but I know you and Ono and Nabiki will protect us.” He knew by “us” she meant herself and the child in her arms, and his chest felt tight again, but this time with responsibility. Despite her vulnerable and partially-dressed state, Ranma leaned down and placed his large, rough hand on her shoulder. “I just wish Ono was back from Osaka…” she said softly, “I'm worried about him meeting with those yakuza men.” She looked down at her child.

Ono had gone to act as Ranma's representative, after coaching from Nabiki. Everyone but Nabiki and the Miike brothers were concerned for his safety, even after repeated assurance from the former that nothing was going to happen to him.

Assurance was nothing in the face of people like the Arai family.

“We will, with everything we got. Akane, too.” He added. Kasumi looked up at him, and smiled warmly despite the tears in her eyes. The phone rang, making them both jump.

“You better get that; Akane must feel bad for hanging up on you.” Kasumi said knowingly. Ranma blushed and gave her a pat before walking back into the living room and answering the phone with some hesitation.

“Hello, Tendou-Ono residence—”

“You will make reparations.” The voice was like an axe through his face, painfully surprising, but only for an instant. He knew exactly who it was.

“What…” he trailed off, rage making words difficult, “where the fuck did you get this number?” he whispered. He didn't want Kasumi to hear him this time, either, but for different reasons - she didn't need any more reason to be afraid.

“You, Ranma Saotome, will make reparations to Takahiro Arai,” Takahiro said as though he wasn't talking about himself, “you will fix what you have broken.” His voice was hoarse, almost mad.

“You stay the hell away from her.” He said, suddenly realizing exactly how Takahiro had gotten Kasumi and Ono's number. “You stay away from her or I swear I'm gonna—”

“You're gonna what? I hold all the cards, Ranma,” there was a pause, Ranma heard shuffling, and then a loud crack, and his heart almost stopped, “you're gonna get fucked,” another pause, this one filled with Takahiro's heavy breathing, “meet me in Asukayama Park tonight at eleven.” And then the line went dead. Ranma clutched the phone so hard he heard it creak.

When he finally hung up, Ranma sat on the sofa for a while, not thinking or even really breathing very much. He stared at the opposite wall until he heard Kasumi enter the room. “Ranma? What's wrong?” she asked softly. He heard Kimiko's quiet breathing, and forced a smiled on his face before he turned around.

“Nothin', just thinkin',” he kept the smile on his face as he stood up, kissing Kimiko's head cradled in the crook of her mother's elbow, “everything's gonna be okay.” Kasumi frowned at him.

“What happened?” he tried to move past her but she stepped into his way; his smile faltered. “Ranma, what happened to Akane…” she whispered.

“Kasumi, I'm going to fix this.” He enunciated carefully, placing his hands on her shoulders and moving her gently aside.

“You had better.” He had never heard that tone in her voice. “You had better.” She repeated, whirling around to face him despite Kimiko's whined protest at being jostled. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and Ranma felt ashamed - Kasumi was an adult, older than him even, he shouldn't just assume she couldn't handle these sorts of things.

“I think Takahiro has Akane.”

“What?” she asked quietly, eyes widening as her eyebrows traveled north.

“I think he might've kidnapped her.” Ranma said, clenching and unclenching his fists. He should not have waited so long to call her. He should have gone over there, held her, told her how much he loved her and how he was going to fix everything.

“Well, that's just great,” Nabiki's chipper voice cut through his self-loathing with the gentleness of a war axe, “we've got him.”

Ranma whirled around, fisting his hands in his hair for a moment in disbelief. Was Nabiki insane? “Are you insane!?” he shouted, voicing his own thoughts.

Nabiki cocked her head to the side. She was leaning against the open doorway, examining her nails and smirking. “Ranma, how kidnapped could she possibly be? She's Akane.”

That brought him up short; he calmed slightly. Right, sure, she had been kidnapped plenty of times, but it was her - too often - underlying sweet, understanding nature that usually caused that, not her inability to protect herself. Ranma had a pretty good feeling that Akane was not going to feel sweet or understanding toward Takahiro at the moment.

Nabiki was smiling smugly. “Here I came over just to tell Kasumi some juicy gossip about Kentaro and Makoto, and now I get this little treat.” She sounded so pleased, even Kasumi made a little noise of disapproval. Nabiki looked appropriately abashed. “Sorry, Sis; what I mean is, he has leverage over Akane, otherwise he'd be halfway to Hiroshima courtesy of Air Akane. She's fine.” Nabiki waved her hand dismissively.

Ranma was still stewing, but one thing Nabiki wasn't was stupid, so he decided to roll with it. “What should we do?” he asked quietly.

“Call up Ya-ma-to,” she said, pronouncing it like the English “tomato” and earning her a small giggle from Kasumi, “tell him how angry you are about kidnapping your lover,” Ranma reddened, but Nabiki continued, ignorant of his discomfort, “then tell him you simply won't follow with their plan, and hang up.”

“And then?” Ranma asked skeptically - so far it just sounded like they were instigating a family reunion, and Ranma wasn't sure he wanted that.

“Then I call the police, and something very fun will happen!” she clapped her hands together excitedly. “Kentaro has been in touch with the Sakaume-gumi, and Ono's little trip over to Osaka yesterday did wonders for their curiosity. I bet if they get a small… nudge, they might just show up, too.”

Ono chose that moment to enter the room, carrying several suitcases. Kasumi gasped and ran over, squishing Kimiko between herself and Ono as she hugged her husband. The baby squealed, and Ono laughed and pulled away, picking her up from Kasumi's arms and tossing her into the air a little.

“Oh! Ono, she just… ate…” Ono stood stock-still, covered in the white cream of baby vomit.

“It's… it's in his mouth…” Nabiki said faintly.