Well, it has been a long time. A weary journey is behind me, and I have
grown wiser, a little more confident, and somewhat more arrogant, but I
think many of you can fix that last one really quickly.
Although I have always been proud of MASN, I began writing Part 3 with
trepidation since I knew my seasons were off with the Japanese school
year. so, after this long break, I decided to return and fix that. In
the process I am adding a few scenes, fixing a few words, touching up a
few characters, and maybe adding a tad bit more foreshadowing. Also, by
reposting the final, it gives me time to get ahead on the other parts.
MASN Pt 4 Ch 9, which people have been beggin me for since April 1998,
is nearing completion. I am chugging away at it like a noodle with a
venegeance, in other words, whenever I get a chance. About five pages a
week at this point, and I only got about twenty pages left to write, a
little less than half of the chapter. And then by the time the final is
posted, i will be hopefully a part or two ahead of myself.
What you have here is the FINAL version of MASN. The only thing that
will change when this goes on the webpage is spelling mistakes I missed
or poor grammar on my part, other than that, I have nailed the coffin
sut on this installment.
Notice that I am using the [ADULT] tag. I refuse to use the lemon tag,
unoess I consider it necessary. I figure ADULT says the same thing and
more, and since this section does have a dark, sexual edge to it and a
much more graphic content, emotional, physical, and metaphorical, I
figure it is a better warning.
MASN is a dramatic tragedy. People die, bad things happen, and real
life is more real than in the Ranma 1/2 series. But there is also hope,
love, and friendship. It is real life, and that is my only warning.
Please enjoy, if you have comments, i will always accept them. It you
have criticism, I always encourage it. But now, on to the fanfic...
-- Listar MIME Decryption --------------
-- Name : m11_f.txt
DISCLAIMER: Ranma Nibunnoichi is the property of Takahashi Rumiko,
Shogakukan Inc, Shonen Sunday Comics, and Viz Video. It is used without
their permission and is not intended for profit but only for the
enjoyment of fans of the Ranma series. All characters within this fic
that are not the property of the above mentioned are copyrighted to the
author, Joseph Kohle, January 1997. This work of fiction is the result
of the author's hard work and is for the enjoyment of others. Please do
not change, modify, or use any segment of this story without the
author's knowing and written consent. Feel free to archive this work.
WARNING: This story contains material of an adult nature and may not be
suitable for some reader's tastes or age. This is not a lemon or a dark
fic, but it does include graphic scenes.
************************************************************************
Meiyo Ai soshite Nikushimi
A Ranma Nibunnoichi Fanfic
by Joseph A. Kohle
Part I: The Step Beyond
Chapter I Atonement
I can't do it. I can't face her, not after what 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 led 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 blistering 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 seesawed 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 there 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 to. 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 dark form darted through the foliage, streaking unerringly towards
him. In the molted light leaking through the thick evergreen boughs, it was a
shifting, fluid pattern. Slanted red eyes burned with the fire of hatred and
desire. The gapping maw was searching for his soft, vulnerable flesh. He knew
it would not stop until the beast had impaled him on its razor-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 it moved in. Reversing its deadly
attack, he was caught off guard as the creature swung its other forearm at
him. 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.
His only satisfaction was that Akane had gotten away. There was no way
she could have kept with him. It was his fault that Happousai had been
angered. It was his fault for bringing her along with him to train. At least
now she was safe.
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. Shock and 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 an 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 body went limp.
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.
He saw no movement. Her chest was not rising.
His mind shattered like glass.
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 ceased to
exist, as if it had crumpled around him, leaving him alone with his shredded
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 him, on a scale even the Lost
Boy Ryouga 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 ki. 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 she would just wake up for him.
His tears fell on her face as he called her name again and again.
Somehow, a small voice spoke within him, prompting him to do something.
Reluctantly he laid her down, his hands groping for her neck, checking her
pulse.
Nothing.
No breath. The panic welled again, and he forced it down, trying to
concentrate on his training.
As he concentrated, his body was moving of its own volition. He gently
tilted her head back, and breathed into her mouth, forcing oxygen to her
lungs. A few quick breaths followed before he turned to her chest.
Instinctively finding the breast bone slightly beneath and to the side of her
heart, he gave several rapid compressions before giving her breath once more.
For long minutes he continued his administrations, tears cascading down
his face to splash in wet puddles on her skin.
Then she was moaning in pain, her body suddenly thrashing as his lips
left hers. 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 his 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 clouded 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
crippled 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 travel the honourable path.
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 was 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. With a dread sense of purpose burning in his heart, bolstering
his courage, he silently entered her room.
~~*~~
His first kiss turned to many. His mind was still reeling from every
thing that had happened. He had been so sure that she would never revive,
that now he needed confirmation, something to prove that this was real, that
he was not just dreaming it while she was in actuality just a lifeless body
in his arms.
So he kissed her forehead, her cheeks. His lips brushed hers again and
again. In between each kiss, he murmured over and over how much he loved her.
He whispered how scared 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 worked to revive her. Her
eyes fluttered a bit and then slowly opened. Staring 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 from her revival combining with his
actions and words to confound her and steal 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, despite her
exhaustion, or perhaps because of it, she returned the kiss, giving into his
enveloping love.
For the first time, they were together, one under the heavens. The
barriers he had constructed, forced up over the time 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 and restraint
had damned him for the rest of his life. Culpability rested on his 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 be 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 honour 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 its 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. 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 warm, graceful neck.
Urgently his hands moved over her body as he laid her gently on the
ground. He caressed her full body, feeling the smooth, rounded curves, the
soft, warm flesh. He undid her blouse, 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, he did not remember removing his clothes, but
he could feel his skin pressed against her bare chest. Her touch burned like
fire through his body. Oh, gods how he wanted her, needed her touch and love.
Fiercely kissing her, he pulled at her jeans and underwear, 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 farther apart.
~~*~~
"Oh, gods Akane," he sobbed, "I never wanted to hurt you. I couldn't
control myself. I couldn't. You've gotta believe me."
~~*~~
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 with the momentum of a landslide.
~~*~~
"I don't know what to say. Dammit! I don't know how to make you feel
better with words. I can't change the past. Gods, I want to so bad. I wanna
take away the hurt, make it all better, but I can't! I can't!"
He was silent for a moment as tears fell down his cheeks to splash into
his white, silk shirt. "I can only make amends," he whispered.
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
would be quick, painless, and irreversible. There was no possible way he
could be saved from a thrust to the heart.
It was now or never. He had to do it.
Looking up, he gazed at her one last time. The dark hair cut short to
curl around the beautiful porcelain neck. She was so much like a China doll,
and he had broken her with his clumsy hands. He had cherished that China
doll, protected it, kept it safe as he admired the beauty and 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.
~~*~~
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 weren't in control. What have I done? His eyes were drawn to her
face. It was turned to the side, her eyes closed, tears wetting her flushed
cheeks. No, no, no, no!
~~*~~
"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.
~~*~~
"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.
~~*~~
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 returned to the world of the living to have him kissing
her, she had been shocked; however, she had started enjoying his
ministrations after a time. Though tired, despite the heavy weight on her
body, she wanted to be with him for that moment, because she saw his true
feelings. She saw the truth he had vehemently denied since the beginning of
their tumultuous and competitive relationship. She knew in the back of her
mind that she should have pushed him away, but she needed him as much as he
did her. He had almost been killed by that beast. She had been so scared. So
she let him carry her away.
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 silenced her doubts. 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 on warning her and
telling her that it was wrong, that she needed rest, that she should wait.
Akane struggled a bit when Ranma removed her jeans, but she was lost in
her own emotions, her own love for him, a love she had never thought he would
share. The pain was brief, flitting and intense. Her voice cried out as her
body involuntarily stiffened in shock, but then the pleasure exploded within
her senses. Intense beyond words, leaving her gasping and struggling for
breath and sight, lost in the melodies bursting through her veins like a
symphony's endless crescendo.
Afterwards she lay content and happy in his arms.
But then he started screaming, denying everything with a voice choked
with fear. He ran from her in a blind panic. Leaving her alone, the with the
exhaustion, the confusion, the decaying pleasure and love.
His denial had crushed her happiness, leaving her humiliated. Shame and
horror had filled her. Used, she had been used, was the only thought that had
shot through her mind.
Attempting to follow him had only left her huddled on the ground crying
in weakness for several hours before she could muster the strength to make it
back to the camp and then the train station.
Rage had consumed her. At that moment, and for the entire trip home, she
had truly hated Ranma for the first time in her life. In truth she still
barely remembered what had happened. Only being hit, the darkness that
followed and her intimate moment with Ranma. And now he refused to talk to
her, and she did not want to hear from him. Let the bastard suffer.
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 for the moment.
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 parents' and her 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.
Despite her soothed hostility, she did not interrupt him. 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 an insignificant
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. Clarity
sliced the fog of martyrdom and injured pride. 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, staring 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
gored abdomen.
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 stared 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 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. Gods, 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 was
soaked in blood, along with the pants around his hips. Blood was pooling
around his side, a dark stain on the floor.
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 painted across her forearm, seething slowly from a delicate slash along
her arm. 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, terror stricken. The flow of blood
was slowing, but Akane knew he had lost a lot. The shirt she had been using
was thoroughly 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 own
stupidity."
"I will," he promised weakly.
She pulled him against her, rocking his body gently. She told him it
would be all right, that everything would be perfect from now on. He tried to
concentrate on her words, but it was so 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 arms. With a low
cry of grief, she stumbled to her feet, Ranma cradled in her arms, and rushed
from the room. Kicking the door to splinters, she rushed past her family and
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 are awake. I've
been so worried about you." She was beside his bed an instant later,
anxiously checking him over. After a cursory inspection, she was satisfied he
was fine. Then she let loose. "Why on earth did you think seppuku was the
only answer?! Y-you insensitive, hard headed baka!"
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
conjure 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 bloodshot 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.
"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. I never want to lose you.
"Don't you understand that losing you would hurt me worse 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?" Her voice had dropped to a
conversational volume, but it was filled with worry and sorrow.
Chastised. Ranma dropped his gaze from hers and gently rubbed his
stinging cheek. 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 hers 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, and a very frightening one.
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 a
fair price for your safety," 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 was beautiful. 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 would eventually
lead them.
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. He had almost lost
her. She had almost lost him.
Never again, they silently promised themselves.
Revised Author's Notes:
As many of you will notice there are slight differences in this one,
than in the original. Mostly, I changed the action slightly. You will also
notice that I have progressed the seasons forward. Whereas the original
started in Spring, this one starts 18 months after Ranma first came to
Nerima, so it is early August, just before the beginning of school break for
the summer. I am changing things around to suit my purposes and the purposes
of this story so that I can fit things in much more neatly. Nodoka still
knows nothing about her son's curse, or that he is even alive at the moment.
OK, she knows he is alive, but that will be explained later. Some of the
other changes you will notice as time goes on as well, but I will not ruin
the surprise for you until the very point where it needs to be ruined. There
will be some added scenes, for those who have read the series, and a little
more character development.
So why am I rewriting this? Mainly, because I want to change the
seasons to the proper ones, but also because I need to work on the next parts
and think a rework will fill up the time so I can get ahead again; besides I
am very busy with my novella for Section 9 Anime Review Magazine. I have
deadlines now, so fanfiction takes a back burner, but I will be working on
MASN as I go, so hold out hope, this series will be finished, or I will die
trying!
Oh, one more thing. I have heard comments about the quick fix for Ranma
and Akane's relationship that I use in this first opart. From being called
contrived to very touching, some people still think that it takes the whole
point of ranma 1/2 out of the story, the developing romance. I can understand
that. In many fanfictions I agree with that point, but you must remember that
MASN is not about Takahashi's Ranma. This is more about how i view the
motivations behind the characters. By definition, a drama needs a serious
story base. If I did not change the relationship, I would not hve the base I
needed to work from. I can write MASN about Ranma and Akane struggling to be
together and dicovering their love, but this is Honour Love and Hate. THe
words are there for a reason. Each represents a motivation for one of Ranma's
cast. Sure it is a simplified view, but then again, is it really? The
complexity involved in even three motivations becomes a labyrinthine after
two turns and a single backtrack.
This is not comedy. I swear to god this is not comedy. Thuis is
reality. This is life. Death, loss, pain, happiness, revenge, and setbacks
are common. Do not expect anything overly happy, or anthing that is a
satisfactory ending. Rela life only ends when you die, and even that is not
certain.
Many have read this series up to the incomplete point at the moment,
and they know what lies ahead. I would suggest to all those that are reading
this for the first time, do not go check out my webpage. The parts will
change slightly as I go along, and this will bem out every two weeks, so I
won't keep suspense running too long.
Now on to the original Author's notes:
Author's Notes:
This is the first Chapter in a series entitled Meiyo Ai soshite
Nikushimi. This translates as Honour, Love, and Hate. (To any language
nitpickers, I know "soshite" is used wrong, it should be "to", but since I
found that out after being half finished with ch 3 and I think MASN
sounds better than MATN, I left it alone.)
This first chapter was actually intended as a stand alone fic. The
idea originally came from two places. One was the fanfic "It's 11:00" by
Suds-kun, the other is from a scene in Robert Jordan's "Crown of
Swords". Well, synergy happened and this fic was the result. Anyway, I
thought there were several places this could go so I continued to write
and MASN has come about because of it.
MASN is, by my definition, a continuation fanfic. It takes place
a year and a half after Ranma first came to live with the Tendou's. For
your information, as far as this story is concerned, nothing has ever
been resolved between the characters. Ranma never fought Saffron, he
never got back together with his mom and the failed wedding attempt never
happened. So Chapter One is actually the first time he admits his love for
Akane and vice versa, well admits it and actually doesn't retract the
admission in a heart beat.
From this first Chapter you might get a feel for the way MASN will
run. This is not comedy and there will be very few humorous sections.
Mostly because I'm not a comedy writer and the fact that I like humor in
small doses, used subtly. This is a drama with tragic undertones,
although it is not really a tragedy. I deal with the characters on a
real life basis, at least in their thinking and many of the problems
they will face. Some of the sections will be dark fics, some sad fics,
others will just be serious and a few will be light hearted and
cheerful.
Along with MASN will be running a second fanfiction set. This
is called the Shrouded Paths. (note from the present, I do not know if I will
ever do this series, I have a few ideas, but they are only ideas) It is a
collection of stand alone works that explore the characters by taking events
in MASN and showing what might have happened. I will try and post these along
with the chapter they correspond to.
That is all I wish to speak of at the moment.
Until Next time
Joseph A. Kohle
---*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*----*---
All rights and privileges to Ranma Nibunnoichi
belong to Rumiko Takahashi. The characters of
Her series are used without her permission for
the purpose of entertainment only. This work of
fiction is not meant for sale or profit.
All original characters are the creation of the
author. All copyright privileges to these chara-
cters are reserved for the author.
This story is a product of the author's hard work
and imagination. Do not modify, add to, or make
use of any part of this work without the author's
knowledge and consent. Please feel free to archive
this work.
Comments and criticism are welcome.
Written by Joseph A. Kohle, (c) January 1997.
Revised by Joseph A. Kohle. (c) September 1999.
Send all comments to jakohle@worldnet.att.net
http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Flats/6184/