Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Question and Answer ❯ Question and Answer ( One-Shot )

Question and Answer Session

“We're… a… team…” each word was punctuated by a hammer fist at Ranma's chest, and he dodged every one, much to the mounting frustration of the smaller, raven-haired woman in front of him, “fight… me… for… real…!” Akane shouted between her powerful strikes.

Ranma snorted inelegantly. “I ain't havin' this conversation again, Akane.” He said easily, barely winded as he dodged around her attacks, which seemed, to him, slower and clumsier than normal. “Jeez, Akane, yer slackin'.”

The attacks stopped abruptly. Akane fell into her usual horse stance, breathing heavily, her hazel eyes hidden by her bangs. Ranma glared at her uneasily, fiddling with his pigtail. A droplet of sweat trickled down Akane's nose and plopped onto the hardwood floor of the Tendou Dojou. Ever since she'd left for college, Akane had been different, quieter. No one would say why, and Ranma wasn't about to ask anyone.

Though Nabiki liked to gibe him.

The middle Tendou sister would often watch him train, waiting for an opportunity for him to get splashed so she could snap a good shot. On one particular day, a day when Ranma had finally managed to push the absent Akane enough out of his brain that he could get in some real training, Nabiki had come into the dojou, staring at him.

“I just got off the phone with Akane,” she kept talking without pause, “you should know, Ranma, there are guys at college, smart guys, guys that have more emotional maturity than a sack of rice. Nice guys. And Akane's too prudish to say anything, but I bet she's met a few.” And then she'd left.

Ranma had fumed all day. By the time Akane had come home for spring break three days later, he couldn't even look at her without seething inside, so absorbed was he in the twisted fantasies of her with another man. Jealousy had forced a wedge between them, until she left for college again. And then he'd spent the next few months kicking himself.

Now that Akane was back for a whole month, and she had been acting with the same careful calm since she'd arrived home, Ranma's mind whirled. If there was one thing he'd learned about women and people in general, it was that they only got angry if they cared.

Did Akane not care anymore?

“So, if someone like Saffron comes along again, you're just going to save me? Always?” Akane was saying quietly, easily, as if she hadn't just been trying to bruise smoke. Ranma gaped like a carp, startled out of his daze by that challenge.

“Uh, well,” his twitching fingers closed around his braid and tugged a little, “c'mon Akane, that ain't fair; you know I'm—”

“And if Ukyou, or Shanpu decide to attack me?” Akane asked darkly, finally raising her head to look at him. Her face was still as a Nou mask, and he didn't like the hard look in her eyes, but at least she seemed angry. At least she seemed like she cared.

Not that he wanted her to care, of course.

“Ukyou wouldn't…” He trailed off; that wasn't exactly true, he thought to himself, remembering things… exploding things, at his and Akane's almost-wedding two years ago.

Clenching his fists by his sides, Ranma looked away from his fiancee. He didn't have an answer for her, and by the exasperated look on her face, she was expecting that to be the outcome. “Ranma,” she spoke so sharply he couldn't help but look at her, “train me.” Akane relaxed into a ready stance and bowed stiffly at the waist.

Ranma stood, rooted to the floor like a tree stump that could gawk. “Uh, um, I,” no one had ever asked him so… formally to train them; her request made his tummy do little flip-flops, “aww, c'mon, stand up, I ain't the Emperor.”

Akane righted herself, but remained in a ready stance, watching him. “You have to train me for real, Ranma,” she said softly, “if you don't… how am I ever going to compete with…” His fiancee trailed off awkwardly, finally showing some of the anxiousness that Ranma was feeling. Conversations like this always went one of two ways: they would fight, and she or he would storm out, or they would… almost kiss, like that one time, a million years ago. Ranma didn't know which one he'd be more comfortable with at this point in their “relationship.”

“Akane, I do wanna train you,” he said honestly, not able to meet her hopeful gaze, “I just don't wanna hurt you.”

“I'm not made of glass,” she said, as if reading his mind for the things he knew but never said, “at Tama, you're not there to protect me.” Ranma squeezed his eyes shut, feeling his chest tighten a fraction. Akane was referring to Tama Art University, an hour's train ride away in Setagaya Ward. A passion for martial arts and kung-fooey movies had led her to pursue acting, hoping to become an action star, like Michelle Yoeh or Cheng Pei-Pei. And she had pursued her goal with gusto for the last year, while Ranma stayed behind.

Being left behind had been so painful. Ranma had felt left-out, because he was the only one who hadn't supported her. That had hurt her, he knew, but he just couldn't admit that he was upset that Akane was going away to school, when Ranma hadn't made the cut. He hadn't studied enough, and that burned him. The worst part, or best part, was that she was apparently succeeding in her goal, despite what he always said of her martial skills. Nabiki - attending the closer, Nerima-based Musashi University, a business school - had already begun ticking her abacus when Akane called excitedly about an offer she'd received, for a part in a short film.

“Yeah, well, maybe you can get some smart guy up in Setagaya to train you,” he grumbled after a few moments of awkward silence, shoving his hands into his pockets and looking away from her hurt expression, “`cause I ain't gonna hit no girl.”

“Shanpu,” Ranma flinched, “Rouge,” his head ducked, “Kodachi.” He whipped his head around, expecting to see her simmering, but she was just standing there at the ready, staring at him impassively.

“So what? They attacked me! And I was a girl at the time, anyway!” Ranma shouted back; this wasn't solid ground for him, the argument was unfamiliar, shifting sand on a dune. Akane was supposed to get angry, yell at him, throw things.

What had happened to her when she was away?

Akane's expression softened. “Why won't you help me?” His fiancee asked quietly. At her small entreaty, all of Ranma's righteous anger slipped away. He relaxed, shoulders slumping and mumbled something, quietly, under his breath. Something he hadn't wanted to admit to anyone, especially her.

“What?” Akane inquired, stepping closer to him.

“I said,” he began testily, “I'm jealous.” Normally, their roles were reversed, with Akane the one fuming, envious of his skills and the ease with which he learned the Art. Ranma had a sudden insight to how Akane must feel most of the time: inadequate, and unable to advance without help, and that help was unwilling.

“Jealous?” Akane scoffed, obviously not believing him. “What do you mean, `jealous?'”

Ranma glared at her and stuck out his lower jaw, thumbing his nose in a huff. “Not of your so-called skill,” she balked a little at that, face twisting sourly as some of her composure slipped, much to his satisfaction, “just that you get to go to university, and I'm… here.” Akane smiled a little at that, almost shyly, and Ranma felt the old panic well up. He hadn't really intended for his admission to come out that way, but that was the way it had come out. Great, now he sounded like he missed her.

He did, of course. Every day she was gone, the sucking wound that had become his heart when she left him behind grew larger. But almost nothing was more stubborn than Ranma Saotome, and he stubbornly ignored his feelings best.

“Oh,” Akane said softly, blushing, “well, Komazawa University is really close by Tama, you could go there, maybe…” She trailed off, fidgeting. “Do you miss me?” Akane squeaked out, poking her index fingers together.

Dammit, she was cute when she was flustered. Ranma crossed the dojou and sighed, trying to be casual as he placed one of his hands on her shoulder. She looked up at him, confusion written on her face, and he smiled at her lopsidedly. “Nope.” He deadpanned, before poking her in the sternum.

Akane looked bewildered for a minute, and then her face scrunched up in rage. Ranma smirked to himself - he'd gotten her to give up the ghost of false calm and get really angry, and had subsequently saved himself from having to admit… things. Then he realized that she was going to hit him, and he gulped and covered his head. Eyes squinted shut, ducked slightly in front of her, Ranma awaited the blow that would surely send him through the roof of the dojou, or into a pond, or a fence post, or through a window…

The attack never came. Ranma cautiously opened one eye to stare up at Akane's face from his crouched position. She was glaring at him, nostrils flaring. When she caught his eye, her tense expression shifted into an evil grin. “You're a bad liar, Ranma.” She teased without malice.

Ranma stood up and frowned, feeling a little disappointed. “I ain't lying, who'd miss a… tomboy… like you…” Ranma stumbled over his words and trailed off as Akane's expression deepened into a small, sad smile.

“I missed you too, even with the insults,” she sighed resignedly and turned to leave, “it's okay Ranma. I know you can't do it, I just thought I'd ask.”

Ranma's frown deepened. “Whaddya mean `can't?'” Ranma asked, mimicking her question from earlier. Akane paused at the open shoji of the dojou, one knee bent, foot crossed over the opposite ankle, hand on the door frame. She looked back at him over her shoulder, short hair framing her cute face. He blushed in spite of his ire.

“You can't.” Akane said simply.

“Yes I can.” He countered without thinking. Huffing, Ranma took a step back when Akane turned around, looking at him curiously.

“Really?” Akane asked neutrally.

“Yeah, I accept.” Ranma said, sticking his jaw out menacingly.

“Accept what?” Akane looked genuinely bewildered, and Ranma fumbled for a minute. He wasn't sure how that conversation had taken that turn but now he felt that if he backed out he'd be, well, admitting some sort of defeat.

“Your challenge!” He responded with more confidence than he felt. “I bet I can train you, and that… that…”

“I'll help you get into a university?” Akane finished wryly. Ranma paused, considering. He wanted— “Ranma, I'll help you regardless; all you had to do was ask.” Akane smiled sweetly at him, and again Ranma felt silly for ever thinking that she wasn't a nice person, when he first met her.

To be fair, that was four years ago and she'd just smashed him with a table.

“Oh, well… thanks then…” He felt confused, now. Was this even a challenge, anymore? What had happened to their dynamic? When had Akane started growing up?

He was a grown-up too, Ranma stewed.

“I'm just asking for your help, no strings attached,” the meaning behind her words wasn't lost on him, and he shriveled a little under her steady, calm gaze, “you don't have to come to live at university with m—,” he didn't miss her slip, but said nothing. “I'll train with you over the summer, and come down every break.” Akane finished quietly.

So the decision was back to him? Their fathers wanted Ranma to go to Setagaya, they had even mentioned Komazawa themselves, left pamphlets and informational videos about the private university in his futon, on his dresser, next to his miso.

Ranma didn't want to do what his father wanted him to, he wanted to do what he wanted to do.

What did he want to do?

“Okay,” he answered, “I'll help you.” Akane rewarded him with a megawatt smile and ran over, hugging him.

“Thank you!” The closeness of her made all the hairs on his legs stand on end, and he stood there, stiffly, not hugging her back out of shock. Akane pulled away after a moment, a wounded look crossing her pretty face before she smiled again, fleetingly. “When do we start?”

“How about… now?” Ranma suggested. A thought was forming in his brain. An evil thought, a very Nabiki-like thought.

What did he want?

“Okay, great!” Akane resumed her ready stance, but she was shaking all over with excitement. Ranma stared at her, a life of indecision pressing against his spine and making him feel unstable.

What?

“But you gotta do something for me.” Ranma said, licking his lips nervously.

Akane tensed a little, “What?” She asked after some hesitation.

“I mean, that is…” Ranma's mind ambled back to the very one-sided conversation he'd had with Nabiki.

What did he want?

“What is it? What do you want?” Akane asked, voicing his thoughts. He looked at her squarely.

“Every time I land a hit, I get to ask a question, and you gotta tell the truth.” He said quickly - as if Akane would even lie.

Akane raised an eyebrow, looking at him like he was insane. “Fine, then every time I land a hit, I get to ask a question.” Ranma frowned.

“No, that's—”

Akane put up her hand, glaring at him slightly. “Nope, deal or no deal. I need you to train me, and you obviously want to know something about me,” Akane looked amused, “too bad you can't just ask me, now that you've made a deal.”

Huffing, Ranma took a loose stance, watching her. “Fine; like you'll even hit me.”

Akane smirked and took a horse stance again, balanced a little more on her toes than normal. Ranma braced himself, waiting.

A foot struck out for his head, Ranma dodged the appendage, and tapped the inside of her knee. “Hit! You gotta answer a question!” ?Ranma shouted, ducking as her fist replaced her leg.

“Nope, not a real hit.” Akane said through clenched teeth, glaring at him again. Ranma cursed and blocked a sword hand heading for his temple; when he blocked, he noted there wasn't much force behind the strike, and was a little surprised, even pleased that Akane was holding back a little. But then he soured - if she wasn't trying to hit him for real, she must really, really not give a sh—

And that's how Akane felt.

Mentally smacking himself, Ranma punched her square in the chest. She “oofed” and stumbled backwards in surprise. Ranma gaped at her; the hit had not been in anger, and it hadn't been very hard, but inside he felt like a sack of something rotten and stinking and—

“Okay, ask your question.” Ranma blinked, coming up out of his crouch, staring at her. She was panting slightly, and her cheeks were flushed, but she appeared uninjured.

Granted, he hadn't used full power, or even a half, but still...

“You meet anyone, at school?” He blurted out, fidgeting.

Akane raised an eyebrow, looking almost amused. “Yeah, I have a roommate, Ranma; Makoto Hinomora.” Ranma frowned; Makoto was a unisex name.

“Fine.” Ranma huffed, readying himself again. Akane moved around him, and he shuffled to the side. With a loud kiai she sent a foot at his crotch, and as his leg twisted to the side to absorb the blow, she readjusted into a snap kick at his face. Ranma brought his arms up lightning fast, and moved down into her kick.

An elbow connected with his head.

“My turn,” Akane said quickly, backing up a few steps, “do you miss me?” her face was flushed prettily, sweat glistening on her smooth skin. Ranma was panting a little, himself, mostly out of nerves.

“Yeah,” she brightened; time for the plunge, “is Makoto a boy?”

“Nope.” With a smirk, Akane whirled and sent a reverse elbow strike at his sternum. Ranma grabbed the appendage and dragged her, intending on planting the heel of his hand into her approaching jaw. Akane surprised him by managing to duck enough that the blow hit the crown of her head.

They stopped again, Akane's elbow still in his hand, his arm still extended slightly.

“Ask your question.” Akane said, a little petulantly.

“Do… do you really miss me?” Ranma croaked out.

“Of course, dummy,” she grasped his extended wrist and leaned backwards whilst he was distracted, planting her foot in his chest and sending him flying to splat against the dojou wall, “do you really want to train me?”

“Yeah.” Ranma answered from his upside-down position on the floor. He flipped to his feet and moved across the dojou floor with ease, ducking under a crescent kick and executing a back-knuckle strike to her stomach. “Have you met anyone else?”

“You mean… 'someone else?'” Akane asked a little breathlessly, reaching down to grab a fistful of his Chinese shirt. “That would imply there's 'someone' here.” She said slyly into his flushed face.

Maybe this wasn't such a good plan.

Akane looked ready to toss him again. Ranma brought his arms up and down across her wrist, separating her from his shirt. Then he snaked his hands up the front of her gi and upper-cut her jaw, but only enough so that her head tilted back.

“Not really a hit, Ranma.” Akane teased, grabbing his wrist and trying to joint lock him. Ranma twisted around like a cat and elbowed her in the gut. She grunted and stilled, looking into his nervous face.

And then he realized there were no more questions he could ask without totally giving himself away. Akane seemed to sense his indecision, and obviously seeing an opening, punched him, underhanded, in the face.

“Ow.” Ranma said intelligently.

“Why do you care who I've met?” Akane asked quietly, removing her fist from his face. Ranma stood, rubbing his sore mouth - she had pulled her punch a bit still, but not much.

“I dunno…” Ranma grumbled, turning away from her, no longer amused with the game. When a kick connected soundly with his back, Ranma stumbled forward and whirled around, grabbing the foot on pure instinct and tugging. As a result, Akane barreled into him with a shriek, and they tumbled to the floor in a mess of limbs and surprised curses.

“Ow.” Akane remarked from her position on top of him. Ranma tried to suck air back into his lungs, and at the same time calm his racing heart. He tilted his head back to look out the open shoji; a koi leapt from the pond, Kasumi called that she was going out. Ranma honed in on those calming sights and slowly but surely, his heart slowed.

“You didn't really answer me.” Akane said quietly.

“Don't know how.” Ranma said truthfully. Akane lifted her head and looked at him, making no attempt to get off of him.

“I'll ask something else then,” she paused, licking her lips, blushing from exertion or embarrassment or… something, “do you want to kiss me?” Ranma's face turned as red as his shirt.

“Uh…” he trailed off, gulping, “m- may— yes.” Akane leaned forward, closing her eyes halfway. Ranma moved his head up off the floor, and their lips met. They stared into each others eyes, until Ranma's fluttered closed.

They pulled away after a moment, giggling slightly. “I can help you, you know, get into school. I want to.” She said softly, smiling.

Ranma nodded, hands twitching by his sides. Gradually, he reached up and hugged her against him. “I got one more question,” he started, chewing on his lip; Akane tilted her head to the side, eyes narrowed in interest, “was there someone else?”

Akane smirked and leaned down, kissing him lightly again. She pulled away and nuzzled his chest, breathing in deeply. “There was this guy…” Ranma's body tensed, heart throbbing a painful rhythm in his chest, “but he was just a guy.” She finished, peeking up at him.

Ranma reached up and gently laid his hand on her hair. They lay like that for a while, just listening to one another breathe in the quiet of the dojou before someone inevitably interrupted.