Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Hold Fast To Dreams ❯ Chapter Four ( Chapter 4 )

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Ranmaverse except a piece of deadwood and some macaroni. If you sue me, you will acquire nothing but my bills, as that is all I have to my name.

Mitsukiro comes from my own twisted imagination.

Warning: This story contains yaoi, which is m/m relationships. Don't like it? Don't blame me, you've been sufficiently warned.

-^-Hold Fast To Dreams-^-

_Chapter Four_

Dawn came without event, and the two boys rose with the sun to begin training in the small front yard of the inn. Though not much training went on, as they spent most of the morning arguing over who was going to the clearing later that evening, and attempting to beat each other up over it.

"I am too going!" Ryoga yelled as he blocked another kick sent his way, parrying it with an uppercut that grazed past Ranma's cheek.

"You are _not_!" the pigtailed boy cried back, flawlessly countering Ryoga's attack with a flurry of his own punches. A few connected, but they barely registered in the Lost Boy's mind as he prepared his next attack. He grabbed Ranma's shirtfront and swung the pigtailed boy over his head, twisting with the move. Ranma landed on the ground with a thud, and Ryoga quickly immobilized the youth, pressing a knee to Ranma's stomach as he death-gripped his arms, sliding his other leg down to block the smaller boy from jumping to his feet.

"I'm going with you, Ranma, no matter what you say!" Ryoga's voice came out steady, if a little breathy. Ranma winced as he felt Ryoga's kneecap bite into his abdomen, but refused to concede. He raised his head a fraction, then pulled back sharply. He head-butted the fanged boy with all his strength, knocking his rival off of him. Though it gave him a slight headache, the blow did it's job and Ranma was on his feet again.

"Fine, whatever," the pigtailed boy said as Ryoga picked himself up, rubbing his forehead. "Are you gonna help me train, I mean _really_ help me train, or what?"

Ryoga said nothing, but got into a basic offensive stance; Ranma understood and went on the defense. The fanged one charged head-on, relying on his brute strength rather than any technical skill to best the pigtailed boy.

The two rivals sparred all morning, unaware of a presence in the surrounding woods, watching them carefully. Mitsukiro sat on the low branch of a tree, unnoticed, paying rapt attention to the delicate yet powerful dance of the two skilled fighters. He recognized the wild one's incredible strength, but also noted many holes in his defense; holes that the one named Ranma Saotome also noticed and picked out ruthlessly, landing blow after blow after blow. The most peculiar thing Mitsukiro noticed, however, was that though the hits landed, the bandanna'd boy seemed to shrug them off as if they were the merest of touches. He appeared to be able to take an unusual amount of punishment, which intrigued the golden boy very much.

Mitsukiro, fingering his light wooden sword, shrugged off the bandanna'd enigma and focused his attention on Ranma. The pigtailed boy was lightning-quick, with an odd attack style, one that seemed tailored to his strengths and weaknesses. The boy was superb, exceptional at calculating the stockier one's next moves and countering nearly flawlessly. Either he was unnaturally good, or the two had done this dance often enough for it to become habit. Mitsukiro's eyes narrowed, red flashing and swirling in them for a brief moment before regaining their normal golden hue. He was betting on the latter, but decided not to completely rule out Ranma's prowess quite yet.

Deciding he had seen enough, the golden-eyed boy bounded off the tree into the forest. The slight sound of his departure caused Ranma to look into the surrounding woods, instead of at his sparring partner, for a crucial half-second. The next thing the pigtailed martial artist knew, he was on the ground.

--

Pretty stars were swirling around his head, but lovely as they were, they didn't help the splitting headache Ranma suddenly realized he had. 'Ow!' he thought as he attempted a sitting position. He rubbed his head gingerly, and felt something wet. Drawing his hand away, he saw bright red blood smeared across it. The Lost Boy's face swam into view.

"Damn, Ryoga, why'dja hafta hit me so _hard_?" Ranma groaned as he finally made it to his desired position, the stars abating slightly.

"Sorry," Ryoga said, sheepish. "I thought you saw me coming toward you, so I strengthened my attack. Are you okay?" The directionless boy patted Ranma's head lightly, worriedly looking over the bump. "I didn't think that kick would have busted you open, even if you hadn't been ready for it."

Ranma snorted, then instantly regretted the action. He turned to look behind him, and laughed softly. "I don't think your kick was what did it," he said, picking up a rock that had suddenly developed a bloodstain. He hefted it at Ryoga, who caught it deftly.

"Oh," was all Ryoga could say to that.

--

When he felt he was far enough away from the inn and the two sparring boys, Mitsukiro leaped from the branch he had landed on to the soft ground below, amidst a swirl of cherry blossoms. Turning around, his eyes met large, warm brown ones.

Akane, basketful of wild berries in hand, took a step backward. 'The golden-eyed boy,' her mind buzzed faintly at her.

"Fair Akane," Mitsukiro gasped, surprised. His hand shook slightly, and he clutched it to his chest, trying to quell the trembling. Akane gathered her basket to her own chest in an oddly mimicking gesture.

"Who are you?" The words were whispered, but the golden boy heard plainly.

Mitsukiro dropped his gaze, but not before Akane glimpsed the pain there. He smiled gently. "You really don't remember me? Then it isn't important, not now anyway. I just hope, when I defeat your current fiancee, that you will find me an acceptable suitor, Akane Tendo. I want only the love I feel for you answered back." Looking back up at her, he lifted a hand, no longer shaking, to her face; Akane watched it with wide eyes, her mouth suddenly dry. He slowly traced her cheek with one finger, tugged on a strand of her short hair, then dropped his arm. "Your hair is different from what I remember, but beautiful nonetheless. I must go now, but I hope to see you again, very soon, Akane." With that, he leaped up into the trees and was gone in an instant.

--

Ranma made a face. He was sitting on the edge of the furo, his rival perched before him on the washroom's single stool, busily attending to Ranma's cut. The pigtailed boy watched Ryoga's eyes, locked on his wound, so full of quiet sympathy, and sighed. 'Why the hell is Ryoga acting so motherly all of a sudden?' he thought sullenly, angry at himself for loving the attention the directionless boy was giving him.

Finished with cleaning the cut, the Lost Boy smiled, dropped the cloth he was using, and lowered his arm. On a sudden impulse, he brushed his fingertips lightly across Ranma's upper arm in a gesture he hoped seemed purely accidental. Truthfully, he just had to touch that skin, it looked so soft to Ryoga.

Ranma stiffened, his bewildered eyes flying up to meet the Lost Boy's. Tension suddenly filled the room. The aimless wanderer quickly took his hand away, regretting the action immediately. What the hell was wrong with him?

The pigtailed martial artist cried inwardly when Ryoga stopped touching him, his honeyed gaze lowering from Ranma's. He wanted desperately to throw the bandanna'd boy down onto the floor and roll around on top of him, had wanted to since last night. Part of his brain was screaming, 'This is wrong, these feelings are wrong,' but a fainter voice, lodged in the back of his head, sang, 'No, this is right. This is so very right.'

He watched Ryoga's mouth with a keen, terrifying interest; he loved the way the Lost Boy's sexy elongated canines bit at the flesh of his pouty lower lip. Carnal images floated in Ranma's mind, short-circuiting it: Ryoga, shirtless on a hot summer day; Ryoga bound and gagged; Ryoga lying naked on a bed of sakura petals. The mental pictures made things low in Ranma's body tight.

The Lost Boy froze. Ranma was looking at him as if the pigtailed boy were wondering what he tasted like. He drew in a shaky breath, eyes wide, confused. The aquatranssexual rose up on one knee before Ryoga, hovering over him, his body mere inches away from the directionless martial artist.

Not thinking, just reacting, Ryoga tipped his head back to meet his rival as he towered over the porcine boy. Heavy-lidded blue eyes met equally weighty chocolate ones as Ranma lowered his head. His mouth hovered temptingly over Ryoga's, their breath intermingling. Both boys wanted very much to close that miniscule gap, but each was afraid that what would happen would be irreversible. Ranma paused over that sensuous mouth for a brief moment, then took the initiative.

It wasn't a kiss, really, just a slight brushing of lips. Their noses bumped, their mouths barely touched, but it was enough. Ryoga arched his back so he could gain better access to Ranma's mouth, his mind busily screaming at him to stop, run away, do anything other than what he _was_ doing. Their lips brushed each other again, and Ryoga swore Ranma really did taste like brown sugar. The pigtailed boy, slowly losing control, let his head dip lower, sampling those gorgeous lips a third time, still barely touching the Lost Boy.

A small, polite cough came from the open doorway. Kasumi made no comment on the situation as both boys suddenly bolted to opposite sides of the room, trying to get as far away from each other as possible.

"Ranma, Ryoga, if you plan on eating lunch, I'd suggest you get some soon before it's all gone," she remarked with her usual sunniness. Backing calmly out of the room and closing the door, Kasumi leaned on it and pressed a hand to her chest. "Oh my," she gasped.

Ranma looked at the floor; he couldn't bring himself to look at Ryoga. He felt the lust, the confusion, and the fear rising off the other boy. The pigtailed martial artist stood there for a few moments, not knowing what to do. He had just kissed Ryoga! Why wasn't the Lost Boy pounding him into the ground right now? Stealing a brief glance at where the Lost Boy stood, he realized that he was alone. Ryoga had gone.

--

Legs pumping as fast as they could, Ryoga ran. He ran out of the inn, his direction curse thankfully not hindering him this one time. He hopped up onto the inn's rooftop and curled into a tight ball. He began shaking as he realized what had just happened, eyes watering with unshed tears. This he couldn't take. It was one thing to dream about kissing Ranma, but to actually have it happen was another thing entirely! Small sounds escaped his throat as he sobbed. 'I should be angry!' he thought dully. 'Why am I not angry?!'

A part of him he kept buried under hate and fury answered for him. Ryoga blinked back the tears as realization hit him. Was it because... he wanted it? Wanted Ranma? Did he really think that? The new dream he had last night came flooding back with a vengeance to his troubled mind, adding to his torture. The Lost Boy squeezed his eyes shut as it marched across his vision, playing like an ethereal movie he couldn't turn off...

/-=+=+=-/ In the dream, they had been in Akane's room at the Tendo house. Ryoga watched in quiet shock as Ranma lithely pulled off his clothes, dispersing with them quickly and efficiently. When Ranma was down to only his pants, he smiled at Ryoga, lifting a finger to the other boy's cheek. Ryoga's wide eyes followed the pigtailed boy's hand as it reached out to him and stroked ever so slowly down his face, ending at his earlobe. When Ranma's finger moved to trace the curve of Ryoga's neck, the Lost Boy took a step back, nearly toppling over when he bumped into a random piece of furniture he couldn't identify at the time, but was later certain was a desk.

Ranma's grin faltered slightly, but the predatory look remained in his eyes. Ryoga felt like a small animal, trapped by the big bad wolf. As Ranma advanced on him, Ryoga could feel his heartbeat hammering in his temple, the rush of blood coursing through his veins. He hated the feeling, yet craved it at the same time. There was something so erotic about being hunted.

Ranma took a small step forward, playing with the waistband of his own pants, fingering the single button that held them in place. Ryoga's eyes couldn't leave the image of those fingers, so playfully toying with his emotions. His breath came out in ragged gasps as Ranma leaned in to place the most feathery of kisses across the Lost Boy's lips. Ryoga sloppily attempted to deepen the kiss, eyes still saucer-like, but this time focused on Ranma's dark blue orbs.

Ranma seemed to take this as encouragement, and slowly began taking his pants off; first unbuttoning them, then sliding them seductively down his lean, lithe body. Ryoga eeped when he realized Ranma wasn't wearing underwear, and covered his face with his hands. The pigtailed boy stepped out of his pants towards the directionless martial artist, lips parted, hand raised towards the other boy, inviting, the very picture of desire.

Ryoga had turned and fled the room faster than Ranma could blink. /-=+=+=-/

The wanderer shifted so he lay flat on his back, arm under his head, eyes blinking unseeingly into the azure sky. His other hand began unconsciously stroking his stomach as he thought about the dreams, thought about what had happened in the furo room, thought about Ranma. His eyes were still watery, but luckily he was no longer crying. Sadness and confusion mixed themselves inside his head, tightening their grip on his heart and squeezing until he gasped uncontrollably. What the hell was happening to him? To Ranma? What had made his most hated rival, and most dearest friend, do that to him? He touched his lips, the slightest of smiles gracing his face, fingers grazing their smoothness as he remembered what it was like to feel Ranma's mouth on them. Not a dream this time, but reality; Ranma had kissed _him_, Ryoga Hibiki. A small tendril of happiness fought through all the hurt and havoc currently echoing inside his soul.

A sound startled him out of his reverie. He turned his head and saw Ranma, standing about fifteen feet away on the edge of the roof. He had two bowls in his hands, chopsticks balanced precariously between them. Ryoga sat up, cradling his legs to his chest. He lay his head on his knees and refused to look at the pigtailed boy as Ranma slowly sat down beside him.

"Why?" the Lost Boy mumbled from beneath his arms. The pigtailed boy bit his lip, not saying anything. This brought Ryoga's head up. "Why, Ranma?" he demanded with more force, looking out into the trees.

"Would it've helped if I had been in my girl form?" Ranma joked weakly, distressed. The directionless wanderer pierced him with a withering stare, eyes demanding without words that Ranma be serious. The aquatranssexual spread his arms wide, ramen-filled bowls sloshing down the sides. "I... don't know, Ryoga. I know that's a shitty answer, but it's all I can give." 'No, it's not,' Ranma's mind hissed at him. 'Tell him the real reason.' He chased away those thoughts, pigtail flying as he shook his head. "Well, maybe not all," he continued, sighing. "Ever since yesterday... when you were singing..." Ranma cursed inwardly at not being able to find the words he wanted to say, "...you showed me a side of you I had never seen before and... it got me thinking. Thinking things I probably shouldn't be." He let his head hang with the words, certain the bandanna'd boy was going to rage at him for his feelings. He had never been this open with someone before, and frankly, it scared him.

Ryoga let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He glanced over at Ranma, still holding the twin bowls. He noticed the tear marks that hadn't quite dried on the pigtailed martial artist's face, and his heart went out to the smaller boy. Wiping his own face free of tears, he reached out and pressed his palm to Ranma's cheek, cupping it slightly. Ranma's storm-coloured eyes raised up to meet the Lost Boy's brown ones in a moment of perfect understanding. They stayed like that, motionless, for several minutes, neither one daring to move lest this just be a dream.

"Ranma!" a voice sounded from the forest. Akane came running into the yard at top speed, breathless. Her basket was clutched tightly to her, berries being jounced violently around inside.

Both boys jumped off the roof into the yard quickly, wondering what was going on. Ranma let out a small 'oof!' as Akane sailed into his arms, hugging him tightly. Forgetting the anger he had felt for the blue-haired girl last night, he circled her shoulders. "Akane, what's wrong?"

"I saw him!" she cried. "The golden-eyed boy!"

"Where?" the pigtailed martial artist demanded, pushing Akane back so he could see her, gripping her shoulders with his hands painfully, almost possessively.

Akane gulped back a sob. "In the woods!" She flung her arm out, pointing shakily in the general direction she had come from. "I was out early this morning picking berries for Kasumi, and he jumped out in front of me, telling me -gulp- that he l-loved me and he wanted me to date him when he defeated you! Not _if_, but _when_, Ranma!" She burst into a fresh set of tears, hands covering her face, backing up towards the Lost Boy.

Ryoga cradled the small girl to him, rubbing her back and mumbling soothing words to her. He looked over Akane's head at Ranma, and the two boys shared a significant look.

----

To Be Continued...