SUNSET (v.2)
a Ranma fanfic by CBear <cleng@mnl.sequel.net>

All characters in this story belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Viz, etc. I’m just
a broke college student who has nothing better to do and who enjoys this
series so much. I’ve made some major changes in the dialogue and a little in
the plot, and I’d like to hear what you think of it. I’m reposting the
original version as well under SUNSET (v.1) and I’d like to know which one I
should polish up even more and post on the RAAC. Many thanks, and I hope you
enjoy this one!

*	*	*	*
SUNSET
 
The sun was just beginning to set, bathing Nerima with its red orange glow.
Smells of dinner being prepared and sounds of children happily sharing the
events of the day with their parents hung in the air like a comforting
blanket of warmth.

The rooftops cast shadows on Ranma’s face as he wandered from street to
street looking for Akane. He sighed despondently as he peered along yet
another alley, only to find it empty. Where could she have gone?  She had
been gone since lunch and, much as Ranma hated to admit it to himself, he
was beginning to worry about her.

Especially when he felt that it was all his fault that she had run off...

*	*	*	*

Akane had emerged from the kitchen with an eager, hopeful smile on her face,
pinning him with her liquid brown eyes. "Ranma, lunch is almost ready –" The
eager look on her face was replaced by puzzlement as she looked around to
find that he was the only one there. "Where IS everyone?" She walked to the
table and knelt in front of the table across from him, her brows meeting in
a slight frown.

"Pop and  Uncle Tendo had an all-day shogi tournament to attend – unlimited
sake – and Nabiki decided to take Kasumi shopping today," Ranma said,
shifting uncomfortably. They told us over breakfast, remember?" He cleared
his throat, already deciding that he would cut his losses and get out before
she could bring out the food, but the strange look in her eyes stopped him.

"But… but… I thought the shogi tournament was after lunch…"she began, then
trailed off. The tournament WAS after lunch, but when their fathers had
found out Kasumi would be leaving too early to prepare lunch… He thought he
saw a sad look pass over her face for a moment – but she ducked her head
before he could be sure. She looked down intently at the hands she was
agitatedly twisting on her lap. 

They sat in awkward silence for a few minutes, neither not quite knowing
what to say. 

He had already known she would be making their lunch – what was he still
doing here?  But… for some dumb reason he couldn’t begin to explain, he just
couldn’t stand the thought of leaving her all alone in the house despite the
fact that it had meant eating her... cooking. Now he was rather glad he had
stayed, even if another part of him wanted to bash himself over the head for
being such a masochist.
Suddenly she looked up at him, a cheerfully determined expression replacing
the look of disappointment he thought he had seen. "Well, I guess this just
means more for the both of us, ne?" she said. She paused, a blush crawling
up her cheeks. "Ranma – I – I’m glad you stayed. I – I would’ve hated eating
alone." 

The sight one of her rare, sunshiny smiles caused a twisting sensation in
his stomach.

He really was becoming a sucker for those smiles.

"I – uh – I… " he began, feeling a blush trail up his own cheeks, then
trailed off as he sniffed the air. "Uh – Akane –something’s burning."

Akane blanched and sprung from her seat. "Oh no! I forgot about the curry!"
She dashed back inside the kitchen. 

The part of him that wanted to bash himself over the head for staying was
screaming at him, practically ordering him to make his escape while she was
still in the kitchen. He was fast, it would be easy. He could go to Ucchan’s
or… 

An image of Akane’s disappointed expression  flashed across his mind.

He stayed.

She came out of the kitchen carrying the entire pan of curry between two
pot-holders, biting her lip worriedly. The burning smell was much stronger
now, the acrid odor assaulting his nose and making his eyes tear. His eyes
followed her motions as she laid the pan on top of the table and knelt
across from him, then darted to the charred contents of the pan.

His stomach twisted again. More violently this time. He held back a groan
and several insults, biting hard on his tongue. 

"Lunch is served." Akane looked at him with apology in her eyes, but with a
hopeful smile hovering on her mouth. "I’m sorry it looks so… Maybe… maybe it
isn’t burnt too bad? Go ahead, Ranma. Have some."

Ranma gulped audibly and hooked a finger under his mandarin collar. "Um…"

If she had threatened him, if she had tried to force feed him like she often
did in the past, he probably would have run away or, at the very least, told
her what he really thought of her cooking. But the look in her eyes undid
him... 

He took his chopsticks and, with a sigh, placed a few charred pieces of meat
inside his bowl. He put a morsel in his mouth, feeling it crumble, the
bitter taste spreading on his tongue and drowning out the curry’s mild
flavor. Maybe it could have been edible – curry was one of the things Akane
could cook without making it mutate – but  the fire had taken care of that,
and now the contents of the pan was only curry-flavored charcoal. With some
effort, he swallowed, the grainy texture tickling his throat and making him
cough.

 "Uh…" he began in between coughs, eyes squeezed shut, biting his tongue to
keep the stream of nasty comments bay. "Uh... Akane…"

Finding her strangely silent, he looked up at her to find, instead of rage,
a stricken look on her face. She too had taken a sample of her curry and was
trying hard to swallow it. He saw the exact moment the first grains of
charred meat slid down her throat, seeing her grimace and hold back a cough
of her own. She washed it down with a glass of water.

Her brown eyes filled with tears as they met his. "I’m so… so…"

"Aw, Akane, ‘s not so bad, just burnt a little," he said, the pinched look
on her face causing his throat to tighten. Just a few weeks back, he would
have been shooting off a commentary about why she never should have tried to
cook in the first place – but now, when they were getting along so well, he
found that he wanted to comfort her instead. He trailed off as he watched
her pick up the pan of curry from the table and stand up. "Akane, what are
you doing? We haven’t had lunch…"

"This stuff isn’t good enough to eat," she said with a suffocated little
voice, as she quickly walked into the kitchen, disappearing from his line of
vision almost immediately. "I know you’re hungry, Ranma. Why… why don’t you
go over to Ucchan’s for lunch? Or maybe to Shampoo’s? I’m sure either of
them will be glad to see you and feed you for free…"

"Uh… Akane, why don’t we go to Ucchan’s together?" he invited, pulling his
pigtail, face his drawn into a frown. "I’m sure you’re hungry, too."

He heard the sound of pots and pans being placed inside the sink, followed
by the splashing sound of water running.

She didn’t reply.

He walked doubtfully towards the kitchen, hesitating by the door. He watched
the graceful line of her back and the slow, almost lifeless motions of her
arms as she began to scrub the pan, so different from her normal, vital –
even furious self. He never knew how to deal with her when she was like this
– it was easier to deal with her when she was angry, and, considering how
violent her temper often was, that was saying a lot. 

He had decided to go into the dojo to practice kata instead. 

Maybe when she was feeling better and was finished cleaning, she would feel
differently about eating at Ucchan’s, and he wasn’t that hungry anyway. His
stomach growled in protest at that, but it didn’t feel right going off for
food and leaving her like… like this.

When he returned half an hour later, she was nowhere to be found. Thinking
she had taken a nap and not wanting to disturb her, he ignored the niggling
doubt in his mind and made his way up the roof to take a snooze of his own.

*	*	*	*

He found her almost by accident, at his place under the bridge, that place
where he was usually banished when he did something incredibly stupid, where
he sometimes went to let off his steam when she upset him more than he cared
to admit. 

It was one of the places he went to when he wanted to be alone.

Akane, being Akane, knew this place very well.

He should have known she would be here. 

She was looking out into the water, hugging her knees to her chest, the late
afternoon breeze whipping her short blue-black hair back. He stopped a few
meters away from her and let the powerful relief flood him at the sight of
her, the feeling tighten his chest -- he had to fight the impulse to run to
her and… and…

He pushed the thought back, allowing his frustration to take over, his
temper taking spark. He strode towards her, his angry strides eating up the
distance between them in a matter of seconds. He spoke loudly as he walked.
"Where’ve you been all afternoon, Akane?  I’ve been looking all over for
you," he spewed angrily. "I mean, how was I supposed to know you, bein’ the
klutz you are, didn’t fall over somewhere and hurt yourself?  Or maybe you
had passed out from hunger or somethin’? And you call me insensitive! I…"

He trailed off when she suddenly turned her head, and he caught his first
glimpse of her face. An expression he couldn’t describe was in her eyes, he
didn’t know what it was called – he only knew he didn’t like seeing it
there. It was so… sad. The sunset tinted her cheeks with its red orange
glow, but even the dim light didn’t quite disguise the fact that she had
been crying. She turned her face back towards the water with a sigh..

She didn’t even shout back at him. 

He really hated seeing her like this. Was this all because of charred curry?
It wasn’t like she hadn’t ruined other meals before. He approached her more
cautiously, finally taking a seat, Indian-style, beside her. 

 The silence hung between them and lengthened. From the distance, the sounds
of downtown Tokyo was carried by the breeze, along with the peaceful
sloshing sound of the water. Above these was the sound of their own
breathing – and Akane’s occasional sniffs. Finally, Ranma cleared his
throat. "Uh, Akane, if this is about lunch…" he began.

She faced the back of her head to him, her voice strangely muffled when she
spoke. "So, did Ukyo cook you one of her okonomiyaki specials at Ucchan’s?
Or did Shampoo prepare some ramen for you at the Nekohanten?" she suddenly
asked, resignation ringing in her voice instead of the usual anger when she
mentioned either of the two girls in connection with his name. "I… I hope
you didn’t have to pay for lunch. If you did, I – I’ll pay you back."

Ranma scowled and resisted the temptation to shake her for even thinking she
had to pay for his lunch just because…"What the – Akane, stop this, okay? I
didn’t…"

"I’m glad," she said, interrupting him again and retreating back within
herself before he could say anything more.

He clenched his fists in frustration. What did she expect him to do?  He
didn’t even know what was getting her so upset. He pulled his pigtail in
frustration and was just about to let lose a stream of insults just to get
the kind of reaction from her that he was used to when she suddenly pinned
his gaze with hers. His mouth, already slightly open, snapped shut.

"I’m never going to cook again," she told him. "I… I’m rotten at it. You
were… you were all… right. About me."

Ranma was stunned. If there was anything Akane didn’t do, it was give up on
ANYTHING. She never allowed people to tell her what she could and could not
do. Some people called it stubbornness, but, irritating as it could be
sometimes,  it was one of the qualities he truly admired in her. 

It didn’t feel right, hearing this hopelessness in her voice, caused by one
burned pan of curry. It didn’t feel right to see her gaze sadly at the
setting sun as if she had just lost an old friend.

It didn’t feel right to see her giving up. 

Somewhere deep inside him, he knew this wasn’t just about cooking. 
 
They sat silently side by side, each keeping their own thoughts closed. The
sun dipped low in the sky, so low that he could no longer see it. But he
knew it was there because the cheerful red glow that bathed the both of them
was still there, lingering, probably as curious as he was to find out how
this episode between him and Akane would end. The breeze continued to waft
gently at them, occasionally splashing him with miniscule droplets of water
enough for him to feel on his face but not enough for him to change into a girl.

He heard her sigh beside him, and he changed his position so that he would
be facing her. He could see her delicate profile, outlined by the reddish
light, her lashes, moist and spiky from crying, casting shadows on her cheeks. 

"When we were little, Nabiki was always the smart one, so great at Math, and
Kasumi was always the most domestic of us all. I was just... I was just
Akane. I tried so hard at everything, but I was never really good at
anything, except maybe martial arts, and you’ve told me I’m not that good at
that either."

He winced. He never realized that she took those insults of him seriously.
He never meant to make her feel…"Akane, I…" he began, rubbing the back of
his neck awkwardly, a pained look on his face.

"No, no, you don’t have to… have to… it’s true, I know it is," she said,
sighing and laying her head on her knees, facing away from him again. "I’m
just good enough to say I know martial arts, but I’m nothing special. Ukyo
can beat me hands down in combat, and so can Shampoo. And they both cook so
well..."  

Her head snapped up and swung around to pin his gaze, tears filling her
eyes. "And… and… I’m still just… I’m still just Akane." 

He stared into her eyes silently for the longest time, not knowing what to
say, only knowing that she was wrong.

He took a deep breath and tugged his braid nervously. "No," he said,
releasing his breath in a whoosh. 

"No?" she asked, a puzzled frown creasing her face. She released her legs
and moved around to face him, planting her one of her hands by her hip for
support, the other hand idly playing with her skirt. She was studying him
curiously, head slightly tipped to one side. He shifted, uncomfortable under
her steady gaze, but rather glad that curiosity, not sadness, was causing
the glint in her eyes at the moment. 

"No, you’re not "just" Akane."

To his surprise, the memory of when they first met suddenly crowded his mind
– her tentative smile, her offer of friendship, the only welcoming gesture
in a strange house for a strange girl who was supposed to be a boy – and it
washed over him, warming him, and making him want her to see it. 

"When… when Pop first brought me to your house, you… you were only one who
asked me to be… to be your friend," he said, gazing earnestly into her
puzzled eyes, struggling to make himself understood. "You… you smiled at me.
And… and that’s you, Akane. Not cookin’ or martial arts or anythin’ you
think you aren’t good at." He cleared his throat again, rubbing his the back
of his neck awkwardly and ducking his head.  

"Ranma…" 

"Don’t interrupt me, Akane," he exclaimed in irritation, squeezing his eyes
shut. He wouldn’t look at her. He could feel a blush crawling up his face,
but he forced the words out. "I know I’m such a baka… and… I say the dumbest
things to you about stuff like that… but, you know, I… I…" He took a deep
breath. "I… I kinda… I sorta… I l-like ‘j-just Akane’ just fine." He mumbled
the last few words, feeling the heat in his face rise even higher.  

"What?" he heard her exclaim beside him. He was not going to look… he was
not going to look… But it was too late, she was there, she was on her knees,
bending and peeking up at him, her brown eyes wide with disbelief and…and
something else. "What did you just say?"

He grit his teeth and snapped his head up to escape those eyes. "I said… I
said… IKINDALIKEYOUJUST FINE, okay? There, happy?" he growled out, fidgeting.

She feel back on the ground beside him with a gasp. From the corner of his
eyes, he saw the beginnings of a smile flare on her face and it drew his
gaze, making him turn his head towards her. He returned her smile shyly. 

They looked at each other for a few moments, seeing one another in the light
of new discoveries. In the meantime the red glow of the sunset sky had given
way to a dusky pink-tinged purple. Both broke the stare at the same time,
blushing, and Ranma looked up only to find the first star of the night
winking back at him. 

"First star out," Akane murmured, seeing it too, then closing her eyes to
make a wish. "Star light, star bright…" 

Ranma, feeling foolish but getting into the mood of the moment, made a wish
of his own. 

"You… you really were worried about me?" she suddenly asked him, breaking
the silence.

He cleared his throat in embarrassment, totally off balance now. "What did
you expect?" he snorted, trying to restore a sense of normalcy between them.
"How could I have any peace of mind knowing a mega-klutz like you was
wanderin’ the city with an empty stomach? Akane no baka!" he concluded in
disgust, then braced himself, this time actually wanting her to bash him
unconscious.

But she didn’t. Unexpectedly, she laughed. "You don’t have your insults
right," she said, eyes twinkling, the wistful look gone. "I’m supposed to be
the ‘kawaikunee tomboy’ – you’re supposed to be the ‘baka’." 

She sobered, hesitating a moment, then leaned forward and suddenly kissed
his cheek. It was feather light, her lips brushing against his cheek,
tickling it like a butterfly’s wings, a comforting warmth spreading from it
to wash all over him. He felt her dart away – too soon, he thought – and saw
a splash of pink on her cheeks before she retreated to her side, away from
his stunned gaze. "I… I kinda… I kinda like you, too, Ranma," she said in a
breathless voice, a little stunned at what she did herself.

He sat there feeling himself blush as well. "Akane, I…I…" Before he could
continue, she had jumped up nimbly and he found himself looking up at her.

His stomach suddenly growled loud enough for her to hear, and they both
laughed, breaking the spell. He frowned up at her. "I just remembered…
Nabiki called to say she and Kasumi wouldn’t be home ‘til after dinner. If
you’re never cooking again… who’s cooking dinner?  I haven’t had anything
since breakfast."

He saw a look of surprise on her face. "You mean… you mean you didn’t have
lunch at Ucchan’s or at the Nekohanten?"

"No, I was in the dojo practicing kata and waiting for you."

"Oh." There was a short pause. "Since Oneechan won’t be home, do you want to
pass by Ucchan’s for dinner?" she asked him, a relieved smile hovering over
her lips. He wondered what that was all about.

"I’ve got a better idea," he said grinning as he took the hand she offered
to pull him up with. He allowed her to pull him but didn’t release the grip
on her hand afterwards. It felt… it kind of felt good, that. Almost as good
as… He cleared his throat. "How about… how about both of us cook dinner at
home instead?" 

He felt her stiffen and held his breath while he waited for her reply.
Although the wait wasn’t more than a few seconds, it felt like forever.

"Okay," she finally agreed, returning his grin. "But this time, you make
sure it doesn’t get burned." She gently took her hand from his, and he felt
vaguely disappointed by the loss. 

"Race you home!" she quipped, nudging him then taking off without further
warning. 

He suddenly felt much better, never mind his roaring stomach. Taking one
last look at the star that had granted his wish, he whispered a thank you,
and gave chase.

Behind him the early evening breeze whispered its approval, carrying the
sound of their laughter around Nerima long after the two of them had reached
home. 

 - fin -

 
AUTHOR’S NOTES: 

If you’re going to C&C and tell me Ranma and Akane are acting OOC, please
don’t bother to – I already know that. People who have read the stuff I
write before say that I don’t write anything like the manga, and I agree – I
guess I just don’t have enough whimsy in me to make a purely original flavor
story! But I do like playing around with Ranma and Akane and exploring how
they are on a normal day, when there are no other fiancees, no monsters,
etc. Honestly, I don’t think that anyone can sustain a such high level of
tension constantly and not die of a heart attack before the age of twenty! I
go for the quiet days. If you’ve read till this far, I guess you kinda do to.

P.S. Having him admit he kinda likes her and having her admit she kinda
likes him is not the same as having them admit they love each other. I’m
saving that for another time or for someone else who’s good at plotting long
"what-happens-next" stories. :)