Atonement
A Ranma � Fanfic
by Joseph Kohle
All rights to characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi and are
used without her permission or the permission of the companies that
produce and sell Ranma �.
I can't do it. I can't face her, not after all I've done to her.
Immobile as a rock he stood before her door, his hand raised
partway, his face twisted in a grimace of grief and sorrow. He had to
see her. It was the only way to set everything right between them both,
but he was unable to bring his hand down and knock on her door. To
do that was to set himself on a path that eventually lead to disaster. No,
I'm already on that path, but can I finish it, or do I lay down and die
beside it?
A strangled whimper issued from his throat, as his hand
dropped to his side, lifelessly. I can't do it. This is too much to bear.
Indignation rose in him like boiling lava. Too much for you to
bear! What about her? She suffers and you agonize. Baka. Insensitive.
You betrayed and hurt her and you say you can't bear it.
The guilt followed closely as his emotions see-sawed back and
forth as changing and unpredictable as a leaf on the wind. What he had
done was reprehensible, degrading to himself, to her. For a week he
had struggled with it, not sleeping, not eating. His life had collapsed
around him. Finally he had come to her door, forced here by guilt and a
need to make things right. He had to face her just once, ask forgiveness
for the unforgivable, try to apologize in the only way he had been able
to think of.
Unbidden her tear-streaked face flashed through his tormented
mind, accusing him. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut, her body
shaking. It was beyond his endurance to bear it any longer. How could
you do that? The question wailed soundlessly in his mind.
I didn't want t. It just happened. I never wanted to hurt her.
Never. Never! Tears were streaking his cheeks. I was so worried. That
thing struck her so hard. How could I stop myself? It happened so fast.
The demon darted through foliage, darting unerringly towards
him. In the molted light leaking through the thick leaves its black skin
was a shifting fluid pattern. Slanted red eyes burned wit the fire of
hatred and desire. The gapping maw was searching for his soft,
vulnerable flesh. He knew it would not stop until he was impaled on the
beast's sharp curved talons, which flashed as they struck towards his
face.
The attack forced him to duck, but the creature had planned on
it. Murder flashed through its eyes before he moved in. Reversing its
attack, he was caught off guard as the creature swung its other forearm
at his. The rock hard member slammed into his chest, forcing the breath
from his body as it sent him careening backwards into a tree.
Stars exploded around him as his head struck a branch.
Moaning he crumpled to the ground, the forest spinning around him,
despite his best efforts to cease the motion. He attempted to remove
himself from the ground, but his body refused to listen to him. He could
only sit and wait for his head to clear.
Dimly he saw the creature rushing at him. There was nothing
that would save him. He saw his death in those cruel eyes. Then Akane
was there, screaming at the creature, launching herself recklessly into
its path to save him. Fear filtered into his mind, and he tried to scream,
tell her to stop. Anything, but nothing came out.
Helplessly, he watched her fly at the beast, hoping she would
succeed. It was not to be. The demon noticed her quickly, but did not
even break its stride to deal with her. A single arm lashed out at Akane
like the thing was swatting and annoying fly. A shrill whistle followed
the
arm as it cut through the air. Akane never saw the attack, it was too
fast for her, too powerful. The forearm struck like a wrecking ball, a
crack of thunder was the sound it made as it connected with her head
and shoulder.
In horror he watched her head snap back, her arm and body go
limp as she flew away from the beast to land in a crumpled heap off to
his side on a patch of moss, a single shaft of light illuminating her still
and silent face.
Dead. The word sounded hollowly in the vaults of his mind,
ringing like a mournful bell. Dead. He was empty. Nothing was there. It
was like the world had ceases to exist, as if it had crumpled around him
leaving him alone with his shattered dreams and hopes among the
rubble. Dead. There was nothing to live for anymore. Nothing that
would bring him joy.
Then he saw the demon still rushing at him, and then there was
something to live for. Revenge. It was hollow. It was lifeless, but it
filled him with a goal. A simple desire that he could achieve at this
moment. It was an outlet that he desperately needed.
Rage, anger, grief, and depression burst forth like an eruption of
searing lava. Power washed over him through, on a scale even the Lost
Boy Ryoga had never known existed. It pounded within him, forcing
him to his feet. Forcing his arm up. An inarticulate scream of grief and
rage shattered the calm forest air as he released everything at the
beast.
The product of Happousai's deranged machinations was
caught in a fiery blast of chi. It was not even blasted backwards. It
was impossible for that to happen. The creature disappeared in the
raging torrent of his grief. Yet he didn't care. Even before the light of
the blast had dissipated, he was half running, half stumbling to
Akane's still form shouting her name.
Collapsing beside her still form, he picked her up, cradling her
in his arms. Rocking her like a small child, he begged her to come back
to him. He pleaded with her, promised her everything if he would just
wake up for him. His tears fell on her face as he called her name again
and again.
Then she was moaning in pain, her body suddenly thrashing in
his arms. It was as if the sun had risen. Hope and joy filled his soul as
he realized she was alive. He did not even think. Pulling her body to
his, he kissed her forehead, tears of joy streaming down is face.
And after that. He could not bring himself to think about after
that. It was too hard, too painful. He had lost her and gained her and
lost her all in the matter of minutes. How could I be so stupid?
For the thousandth time that week he wished Happousai had
not released that demon. He wished everything was like it had been. He
wished he was downstairs fighting with Akane right now, anything was
preferable to the misery and shame he felt now.
Denial reared its head like a striking snake, injecting its venom
into him. It wasn't my fault. It was Happousai's. If that bastard hentai
had left us alone, if he hadn't released that demon, none of this would
have happened. I'll kill that old fool.
A sharp pain flared in his left hand as his fist tightened about
the long wooden box he was holding, the sharp edges digging into his
skin. The pain brought him back to his senses, forced reality into his
mind.
No! It's my fault. Everything was my fault. You did that to her.
You hurt her. No one made you do anything.
The guilt washed over him again. The shame he felt over his
actions crippling him, nearly forcing him to the tears he had been
fighting all week. His love for Akane made everything that much harder
to bear. What he had taken from her was irretrievable, as impossible to
return as the stars were to hold in your hand. It was a wound that was
never going to heal, a scar she had to live with forever and ever. But he
was going to make it easier for her to bear it, to live with it. He was
here to see that the justice she deserved was meted out, and the
atonement he desperately sought was found.
Self-repudiation was not enough. Despising himself was not
enough. He could not even apologize and call the score equal. Instead
he had to make a sacrifice that equaled her pain. Loss for loss. Pain for
pain. For a week he had sought the right answer, and for a week he had
failed. In the end only one course of action was the correct one, the
honorable one, and that was what he was here to do today. He would
do the honorable thing.
He pulled himself up, his blue-gray eyes flashing with purpose
and determination. Now or never. He had to do it now or he would
never be able to do it. Waiting only made it worse, only eroded his
confidence and resolve. She did not need to suffer any longer. One
moment of the suffering and anguish she must be feeling were too
much for him. The debt must be paid.
Clutching the wooden case tightly in his hand, he pushed open
her door, not even bothering to knock. She would not want to see him
anyway. He did not blame her. He stepped quietly into her room, a
dread sense of purpose burning in his heart, bolstering his courage.
His first kiss turned to many. His mind was still reeling from
everything that had happened. He had been so sure of her death, that
now he needed confirmation, something to prove that this was real and
he was not just dreaming it and she was in actuality just a lifeless body
in his arms.
So he kissed her forehead, her cheeks. His lips brushed hers
again and agin. In between each kiss, he murmured over and over
again how much he loved her. He whispered how scarred he had been,
how empty he had been. He told her to never leave him again.
Slowly she came back to him. His urgent words, his soft kisses,
his gentle hands caressing and holding her body all working to revive
her. Her eyes fluttered a bit and then slowly opened. Starring into their
depths, he forced all of his love into his own gaze, trying to tell her
with one glance everything he had ever felt about her.
"Ranma?" she asked her eyes filled with confusion, uncertainty.
His heart skipped a beat. She was alive. He pulled her into his
embrace, holding her tightly. "I thought I'd lost you," he whispered
hoarsely, "I never want to lose you." He kissed her tenderly, his lips
pressing down against hers.
At first she did not respond, shock at his actions and words
stealing the passion from her. But his soft lips pressing against hers, the
intoxicating taste of the kiss, the passionate fire burning in his eyes
drew
her to him. Gently she returned the kiss giving into his enveloping love.
For the first time, they were together, him and her one under
the heavens. The barriers he had constructed, forced up over the years
he had known her crumbled. He no longer refused what he could not
deny. Love pushed the dams down shattering them in an instant and
washing over him, carrying him along in an uncontrollable rush of
emotion, dragging him into the oblivion of desire that was Akane's
arms, her lips, her body. "I don't ever want to lose you," he whispered,
his voice gruff with emotion.
And now he had. It had only taken a few minutes, and now he
was never going to have her. Only a few minutes and his lack of
control, or restraint had damned him for the rest of his life. Culpability
rested on is shoulders and only his. When the piper came for his money,
he was going to be forced to pay, even though the children and joy had
already been taken from him.
The truth of this became painfully obvious to him as he walked
into Akane's room. She was sitting on her bed, her back turned to him.
Head bowed to her chest, shoulders slumped in defeat, she looked so
miserable that it tore at his heart.
Her body betrayed her emotions to him, shouted louder than
words the anguish and pain he had inflicted upon her. Loneliness and
bereavement radiated from her like the heat from a stove. All were
accusations flung at him like stones. It was germane. In his mind he
deserved to be stoned for his transgressions.
But even though he accepted the punishment, it did not mean he
was unaffected by it. What he saw before him was a blow that struck
his very core. A soft whimper of horror and sympathy escaped his lips
as the blow struck him, nearly forcing him to his knees. I'm sorry,
Akane. I'm so sorry.
But those were words that lacked the power to appease her or
himself. Yet what else was there to say? Were there even words that
might actually heal the wounds, cross the gap that had come between
them? No, there were no words that did that. Only actions had the
effect he desired. At the same time, however, it was impossible for him
not to explain, not to tell her how he felt, how sorry he was.
Grief, guilt, hatred, despite all warred within him demanding to
be appeased, to soothed in some way. It was so hard to do that. How
could he? He did not have the strength anymore. He had never had that
kind of strength, and that which he had had was now gone. But he had
to do this. Necessity and his own honor demanded such.
At some point a condemned man reaches the end of his
strength, the end of his willpower and finds acceptance and peace in
himself. It is a soothing calm that washes away his doubts and
misgivings to leave only acceptance and the courage to go on. Like the
eye in the middle of the hurricane, this is a time of calm that separates
him from the violence and confusion of the storm, breaks it's hold on
him. This is the fearless nobility of the martyr, the undaunted courage
of
the soldier at the last stand, the detached certainty of the suicidal.
For him it was the pain and sorrow of the one he loved that
tempered his heart. Her sorrow brushed aside his lingering doubts,
obliterated any thought of turning back, retreating from the inevitable.
Shame and guilt coalesced in the torturous fires of his self-hatred and
annealed to form a purpose as clear and untarnished as a crystal.
Amends would be made. He would give her back her life as much as
he could. He would make it right Never again would she suffer through
or live haunted by what he had done to her.
Turning he closed the door behind him and clicked the lock. He
did not want any interruptions. Any person had the ability to stop him
with but a few words. He knew he did not have the personal strength to
resist them, he was barely able to force himself onto this course. So he
locked the door and turned to face Akane again. Carefully he lowered
himself to his knees and placed the wooden case in front of him, within
easy reach. Resting his hands on his knees, he bowed his head to his
chest and took in a deep breath. Clearing his mind of everything but his
task, he tried to let his heart speak for him just this once.
"I-I don't know how to say this," he began lamely his tongue
tying itself in knots, refusing to say what he wanted. Not now, please
let me do this right.
"I'm sorry," he blurted, digging his fingers into his flesh
relishing in the pain because it gave him something to concentrate on
besides his chaotic emotions. I hurt her. I who was supposed to protect
her.
"I never meant to hurt you. Akane, I never wanted to hurt you,"
he cried tears streaking down his face, "I didn't mean for it to happen.
Please believe me. Please. I didn't want to hurt you." I didn't. I didn't.
Please believe me, Akane.
She returned his kiss passionately, deeply. Holding her close, he
felt the warmth of her body beneath him, conforming to his. Passion
and desire swept him away. He wanted her, more than anything else he
wanted her, desired to love her completely. His love and desire so long
denied pushed him over the edge. His lips found her jaw, the smooth
skin of her neck.
Urgently his hands moved over her body as he laid her on the
ground. He caressed her full body, feeling the smooth rounded curves,
the soft warm flesh. He undid her shirt, his hands fumbling with her bra
for a moment and than shoving it aside as his hands sought her bared
breasts. He did not care anymore. He wanted her, fully and completely.
So caught up in her body, her did not remember removing his
clothes, but her could feel his skin pressed against her bare chest. Her
touch burned like fire through his body. Oh, God how he wanted her,
needed her.
Fiercely kissing her, he pulled at her jeans and panties, pushing
them off her hips. Ignoring her hands pushing against his shoulders, her
body struggling beneath him, he kicked them off from around her legs.
His lips drank in her sweet taste, her warmth and heat.
He heard her soft cries beneath her, but he was beyond caring.
He wanted her. He kissed her again and again, his hips pushing her legs
apart.
"Oh, God Akane," he sobbed, "I never wanted to hurt you. I
couldn't control myself. I couldn't."
He penetrated her. Her body went rigid beneath him, her cry of
pain echoed in his ears, but failed to register as his burning passion
carried him forward.
"Words can't do a thing to fix what I've done. They can't make
you feel better. I can't change the past, only make amends."
He reached down in front of him and opened the wooden case.
>From it he removed an object wrapped in a white silk ribbon. The
ribbon slid off the object revealing the gleaming blade of a tanto that his
father had kept since leaving Nodoka.
The blade gleamed brightly, reflecting the light like the tears
that had streaked Akane's face. He had hurt her too much. This was the
only way out of his grief and guilt, the only way to make everything
perfect once again.
He rested the blade between his third and forth rib, the point
pressing into his skin, a small trickle of blood running from the small
wound. It was now or never. He had to do it.
Looking up, he gazed at her one last time. The dark hair cut
short, the strength that resided in her. He wished she would turn to face
him, so he could see her face one last time. So his last memory of her
would not be the tear-streaked accusation that haunted his dreams.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, "I'm so sorry I raped you. I give my
life in exchange." I'm so sorry, Akane. Forgive me.
Spent, he collapsed on top of her, his breathing heavy, his
passion sated, his body content. Realization slowly dawned on him now
that his emotions were in control. What have I done? His eyes were
drawn to her face. It was turned to the side, her eyes closed, tears
streaming down her face. No, no, no, no.
"No!" he screamed. I raped her. I raped. Oh, no. Anything but
that.
"I didn't mean it. I didn't," he cried out, pushing away from
her, stumbling to his feet. Fear and guilt pulsed through him. Crying
out once he turned and ran from her, leaving her alone in the forest.
He lifted the tanto and slammed it towards his waiting heart.
"Nooooo," Akane cried out.
When Ranma had entered her room, Akane had nearly
physically thrown him out of it. She had no desire to see him. He had
hurt her and insulted her beyond anything he had ever done. How dare
he show his face to me? That was her first thought.
When she had awoken to him kissing her, she had been very
surprised; however, she had started enjoying his ministrations after a
time. She had almost stopped him when he had removed her shirt and
bra, but the play of his hands across her body, the tingling electric jolts
they had brought had stopped her. Instead she had started pulling at his
clothes, kissing him back. The rest had been a mass of conflicting
emotions. Her body had wanted him completely, but her mind had
kept saying no.
She had struggled a bit when he had removed her jeans, but by
that time she had been caught up in her own emotions, her own love for
him, a love she had never thought would be shared by him. There had
been pain, but the pleasure had been greater. Afterwards she had been
content and happy.
But then he had started screaming, had denied everything and
run from her in a blind panic. She had been crushed, humiliated. Shame
and horror had filled her. Used, she had been used, was the only
thought that had shot through her mind.
Rage had instantly filled her. At that moment she had truly
hated Ranma for the first time in her life. For the last week she had
avoided him completely, not even talking to him. Never going to the
table if he was there, which luckily had been only once or twice. At
school she had refused to even mention his name to anyone, and
stormed away from any who talked about him.
Yet when he entered her room, something stopped her from
sending him packing. She had known he had been standing outside her
door for nearly a quarter of an hour. Her curiosity was such that she
could not turn him away without at least hearing what he had to say.
So she relented and let him stay.
After a long silence, he closed the door and knelt on the floor.
She heard him place an object on the floor also, but she did not turn to
face him. That would be too much like forgiving him. She would not
acknowledge his presence. Let him suffer.
Eventually he began to speak. His words were poorly chosen,
but the emotion he put behind them showed his sincerity. It had caught
her by surprise when he apologized. More so was the emotion which
caught at her heart. It was almost unbearable to hear the anguish in his
voice. He had obviously been suffering through the entire week.
Things began to click in her mind. She had been avoiding him,
but almost no one had seen him in the past several days. He had
withdrawn into himself. She had heard their parent's and his sisters'
worried comments, but ignored them in her anger. She did not care if
he was in trouble. Now she realized it had been his actions that had
brought that down. He was truly sorry, and that fact soothed her anger
like a balm does a burn.
She did not interrupt though. She let him continue. She listened
to his words, enjoying the torment he was putting himself through, but
slowly she became worried. He began ranting about not being able to
be forgiven, and then the only way to make amends. Fear entered her
heart. Something was wrong her, but she did not know what.
Then he spoke the words that would burn in her heart as a
testament of his love for her, a reminder of what can happen from
misunderstanding. "I'm so sorry I raped you. I give my life in
exchange."
It was a barely audible whisper, but it stopped her heart.
Everything became clear. Everything snapped into place. Oh no, he
thinks he forced me. No.
"Noooo!" she screamed turning around on the bed. She saw the
gleam of a blade descending and flung herself forward lashing out. Pain
flared in her arm and then she hit Ranma's body, sending both of them
tumbling to the floor. She heard his cry of pain, and terror filled her
heart.
Pushing herself up, she looked at him. His eyes were open
starring at her. He was alive.
He heard her cry out to him, but the tanto was already
descending. Then her body slammed into his, the sharp blade was
deflected and missed his heart to stab deeply into his abdomen. Pain
flared in his body and he cried out as he felt the blade slice through his
flesh, digging deeply and then tearing more as his arm was jolted when
he hit the ground, wrenching the tanto in his body.
His eyes snapped open, to see Akane on top of him, her eyes
filled with fear. "Why did you stop me?" he asked in a strained voice. It
hurt to breathe, and his side was throbbing.
Anger flashed in her eyes, "Ranma no baka!" she shouted,
"How could you even think you raped me? I'd never let you. I wanted
to be with you. I ripped off your clothes, don't you remember, baka?"
He simple starred at her stunned, his mouth moving soundlessly.
Pain, shock, and her words were making it impossible for him to think,
to rationalize what was going on. Finally he could only resort to
defending his position, "You were struggling, crying out. You
screamed when I..when I...took you. You were crying afterwards."
Her face softened. She shook her head gently. "It only hurt for
a second, Ranma. It was wonderful. I was so happy, so very happy.
That's why I was crying. I thought you loved me. But you ran away,
denying everything. What was I supposed to think. You hurt me. I
thought you had used me."
"No," Ranma muttered, watching the tears fall from her eyes,
"My fault, all my fault." He was numb and he was having trouble
connecting thoughts together. "Should've stayed, talked to you. I
jumped to conclusions. So sorry, Akane. So sorry."
He was tired, his eyes slipped shut for a second, before he
snapped them open. "Never wanted to hurt you. I love you. Yes love
you." His eyes lost their focus and began wandering the room
aimlessly.
Akane knew something was wrong. Oh God, the tanto. She
shifted on him, trying to get up, but accidentally hit the knife, causing
it to cut farther along the already gapping wound. Ranma cried out in
pain as the blade shifted, his eyes snapping back into focus.
Akane was next to him looking at his side, horror on her face.
Fumbling, he reached for the hilt and finally found it. It was slick with
his blood, but he grasped it tightly and yanked. A white wave of intense
pain washed over him, causing him to scream.
His scream jolted Akane from her shock. She took one look at
him and began searching the room frantically for a bandage. His white
shirt and been soaked in blood, along with pants around the hips. There
had also been blood pooling around his side.
Finally she grabbed a shirt and rushed back over to him and
shoved it into the gash in his left side. "You need a doctor, Ranma."
He nodded at her suggestion, but was looking at her. He
noticed the blood dripping down her right forearm. A long slash was
the cause of this. Already confused and weak, he said the first thing
that came to his mind. "You're hurt," he stated touching her arm,
"Better take care of that."
"I'll be fine," she shouted, her voice filled with worry. From
outside Akane's room, Ranma heard people shouting questions. He
tried to answer them but nothing came out.
"Call an ambulance," Akane shouted , in a terror stricken voice.
The flow of blood was slowing, but Akane knew he had lost a lot. The
shirt she had been using was fairly soaked in it.
Looking down at him, Akane became terrified as she saw the
glazed expression in his eyes. "Stay with me, Ranma," she cried
ignoring the questions from outside her door, "Why do you always
have to do stupid things? Why couldn't you just talk to me? I would've
listened."
He was tired, but he looked at her when she spoke to him, and
shook his head. "Thought I hurt you," his voice was slow and distant in
his own ears, "Thought I ruined your life. Couldn't live with that.
Couldn't live with it. This only way."
"Baka, don't you ever think?" she wasn't shouting anymore,
she was too busy crying, but she had to keep him talking.
He smiled. "No, I don't." He was so tired, if he could just sleep
for awhile. His eyes slipped shut, but snapped open when Akane yelled
his name.
"Hold on, damn it!" she raged, "I"m not losing you because of
your stupidity."
"I will," he said weakly.
She pulled him against her, rocking his body gently. She told
him it would be alright, that everything would be perfect from now on.
He tried to concentrate on her words, but it was too hard. He was
tired. His body was numb. Slowly he slipped into darkness, the sound
of sirens sending him off.
She heard the ambulance just as Ranma went limp in her eyes.
With a low cry of grief, she stumbled to her feet, with him in her arms,
and rushed from the room, kicking the door to splinters. Rushing past
her family, she headed downstairs and outside to the waiting
ambulance.
Begging Ranma to stay with her she, helped them place him on
the gurney, and then followed him into the ambulance when they
noticed the cut on her arm. She wanted to be with him, and so sat
down next to him, and held his limp hand tightly all the way to the
hospital.
Blinking he opened his eyes to a well lit room with sterile
coloring. He turned his head to the side and groaned as a headache
formed behind his eye. His side also hurt, it was stiff, uncomfortable,
and itched worse than a rash.
"Where am I?" he asked of no one in particular.
"Ranma!" Akane's voice filled the room, "I'm so glad you
awake. I've been so worried about you." She was beside his bed an
instant latter, anxiously checking him over. "Why on earth did you
think seppuku was the only answer."
Memories flooded back into his mind. The demon's attack,
what had happened after, the week of pure hell for him, his final
decision, and the truth Akane had told him. Stupid. Why do you always
overreact?
"I didn't think." It was a lame answer, but it was the only one
he could think of at the moment. He turned to look at Akane. She was
leaning over him, a chair was pulled close to his bed. Her eyes were
blood-shot and puffy, as if she had been crying. Reaching out she gently
stroked his forehead. Her arm was bandaged and he realized it must be
because of the tanto.
Touching the bandage, he said, "I'm sorry. I hurt you again,
didn't I? I'm sorry. The tanto was for me."
He didn't even see her move, but her hand cracked across his
face with a loud smack, as she slapped him. "Baka!" she shouted at
him, her eyes flashing in anger and confusingly fear, "Stop it, just stop
it! You always put me above yourself. You're going to kill yourself,
just like you almost did yesterday. I don't want to lose you."
"Don't you understand that losing you would hurt me worse,"
her voice had dropped to a normal, but it was filled with worry and
sorrow, "Than any injury I can take. I don't want you to die for me
Ranma. I want you to be alive for me. Can't you understand that?"
Chastised. Ranma dropped his gaze from hers. She was right.
Protecting her had become a habit, but more than that, it had been the
only way he could express his true feelings without actually admitting
them. He knew he would trade his life for her in an instant, no doubt,
no second thoughts. It had never crossed his mind that she might be
hurt by his death. Does she really love me? Does she love me that
much? It was a sobering thought.
He turned his eyes back on her. "I'm sorry, Akane," he said
softly. How do I tell her? How do I explain? "It's just I don't want you
hurt. Death is an easy payment to protect you," he stopped and
watched her. Yes, I guess I do love her. "I care for you, Akane," Just
tell her, get it over with. "I..I love you." It was said in a whisper, but it
still had the right effect.
Akane's eyes went wide and then filled with a sublime joy as
she smiled at him. She really is beautiful, especially when she smiles. He
reached up and touched her face gently.
He understood he had been given a second chance with her.
They had both been given another chance. This time he would do it
right. No fights, no misunderstandings. They would start over and see
where it led.
Before Akane regained her senses, he slowly brought her down
to him and kissed her gently. For the first time in a long time he was at
peace. He was happy. He was content.
"Ranma, I love you," Akane breathed softly into his mouth. He
simply kissed her harder, pulling her into him. It was a start. I almost
lost you once. Never again, he promised himself
