Hello all ^^
This is just a draft, I'm kind of posting it on a whim. ^^
I would really like some criticism on this, especially the character development...honest negative feedback would be *greatly* appreciated. I have to know where I screwed up to improve things. ^^ I swear this story is nothing like DNR.
Also, this is a draft, so please don't archive it or anything...
***
Aru Hareta Hi || A Certain Clear Day
A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic By Irene
***
Summary:
Three years after the failed wedding, Ranma and Akane are
securely, willingly engaged and on their way to a happy
future as they attend college. . .but what will happen
then?
***
Notes and Points to Keep in Mind:
I have *not* been through many of the classes I describe
here, so I will be vague on topics I don't understand
fully--mostly the mathematics that Himeko and others
(Shiroki et al) supposedly pursue.
I promise to use only real chemicals, formulae, theorems,
laws, etc. I may toss in some as-of-yet-unproven things
just to make research lively. I *am* being vague on the
research topic because I can't make up something
undiscovered, nor can I give them the credit for other
people's discoveries.
If anyone can help me fix these sorts of errors, please
tell me.
Yukawa is the name of a famous scientific institute in
Kyoto.
***
Disclaimer:
Ranma 1/2 does not belong to me. Neither do the lyrics I
use. Yukawa Himeko (as does her main incarnation, Takeno
Himeko)/Miyake/Shiroki/all other non-canon characters do
belong to me.
I swear on my pile of manga that I did not rip off anyone
else's fanfic intentionally. I freely admit that my way of
handling the timing was inspired by "Fragments".
BTW and FYI, this story is actually the way "O-tomodachi"
was *supposed* to be. I decided to resurrect this from the
bottom of the ideas-heap. However, fans of OT will not
necessarily enjoy this story, as the plot bears little
resemblance and the mood is drastically different. ^_^
Enjoy the show!
***
Prologue
"Passing By" -- Author Unknown
There is a lady sweet and kind,
Was never face so pleased my mind;
I did but see her passing by,
And yet I love her till I die.
Her gesture, motion and her smile,
Her wit, her voice, my heart beguile;
Beguile my heart, I know not why,
And yet I love her till I die.
Had I her fast betwixt mine arms,
Judge you that think such sports were harms,
Were't any harm? No, no, fie, fie!
For I will love her till I die.
Should I remain confin�d there
So long as Phoebus in his sphere,
I to request, she to deny,
Yet would I love her till I die.
Cupid is wing�d and doth range
Her country so my love doth change;
But change she earth or change she sky,
Yet will I love her till I die.
***
One || Sakura, Haruda || Cherry Blossoms, It is Spring
o/~
"On a Clear Day, You Can See Forever"
On a clear day,
Rise and look around you,
And you'll see who you are.
On a clear day,
How it will astound you,
That the glow of your being
Outshines every star.
You'll feel part of
Every mountain, sea and shore,
You can hear
>From far and near
A word you've never ever heard before.
And on the clear day...
On the clear day...
You can see forever
And ever
And ever
And ever
More...
o/~
[ April 10, Tokyo, Present ]
Kyoritsu Chemical University, trainer of future
pharmacists, was not *too* far away from the hubbub of
Tokyo University. Ranma mumbled something to himself as he
ran along, almost late. Not *his* fault that his fianc�e
had to be in pharmaceutical school. Not *his* fault that
she wanted to see him first thing in the morning. He
was a sophomore at Tokyo University on an athletic basis--
he had passed the tests, barely, after five months' intense
cramming--and was dreading his class. Why, oh why, was a
business major (he had to take care of the family dojo,
right?) taking a class in introductory physics?
There were a few good reasons, he thought as he shoved the
backpack up his shoulder and opened the glass door to the
science building in front of him. One, it was required
that he took an elective, and since he had put the decision
off for so long, this and pottery-making were the only
classes left open. Two, it would not hurt to understand
basic physics if he was going to be a kempo teacher.
Three, he hated feeling stupid whenever he talked to Ryoga,
an engineering major. The only problem was his head for
science, or lack thereof.
"Saotome! Get yer butt in here before the bell rings!
You're dealin' with Professor Burashu; that guy will grill
you like a steak if you aren't in your seat in ten
seconds!" Ryoga's shout jerked Ranma into the medium-sized
lecture hall. He slid into a molded plastic seat and threw
a notebook, pencil, and calculator on the writing surface
before sighing. He straightened his light green t-shirt,
swept his hands over his loose pants, and sat back. Ryoga
poked him. "Hmm, just made it."
A lot has changed in just three years, Ranma thought
wearily. Why, three years ago, if Ryoga had touched Ranma,
there would have been some harsh words, not to mention--
"Ohayo, minna-san!" A booming voice jerked the students'
heads towards the front. Professor Burashu was somewhat
short, and very muscular; rumor had it that he had been a
champion powerlifter before turning to teaching. His dark,
slightly graying hair was brushed back carefully. He wore
wire-rimmed glasses, but the sparkle in his eyes was not
dimmed. He wore a short-sleeved shirt, neat gray slacks,
and slapped a pile of papers onto the lectern as he fired
up the projector. "Good to see you all today! Gimme a few
minutes to get things set up. . .oh yeah, welcome to
advanced physics, 303. . ."
"What?!" Ranma turned to Ryoga. "I'm supposed to be in the
beginner class. I don't know *anything* about this stuff.
I thought. . ."
"No talking!" Burashu's voice shouted, and Ranma, sighing,
turned back towards the front. The professor went on. "If
you're here to learn physics, great! Nice to have ya. If
not, too bad! You gotta learn it anyway, haha! Oh, and by
the way, if you're late, that's a 1% deduction, so you
might as well not show up! Being late is just as bad as not
coming to class! This is not a huge class, I'll know if
you're here. This is college, so I don't check on who's
here and who's not, but. . .ahh, here we go. I assume that
you all have taken 101 and 202 already, and are fairly
comfortable with the Fourier transform series. We focus a
lot on the new stuff here, the quantum mechanics, waves,
and such."
Ranma paled.
"So, we're all here! That's great. Welcome and--"
"Excuse me?"
Heads turned as the door opened. A girl walked in.
"Late!" A few voices shouted leeringly. Some students
winced, ready for the scolding there was to come. Ranma,
for his part, was amused that someone had taken the liberty
of being late, and waited to see the consequences.
"Yukawa-san! There you are." The man turned and nodded.
The slender girl bowed and quickly walked in. A hush
settled over the room. She looked *young*, too young to be
a TA or another professor. By the greeting, she certainly
wasn't a student. Who was she? *She* could be late. This
incited some petty jealousy immediately.
As she walked closer, Ranma took a curious look. She
raised her head and gave a quick, shy smile to the students
in front of her. The girl, Miss Yukawa or whatever, had
black or perhaps dark brown hair, cut across a few inches
below her shoulders. She had long bangs coming into her
eyes, and the hair, held back with two silver clips, was
layered and framed her pale, heart-shaped face. Her large
eyes were dark blue, when Ranma caught a quick glance of
them. She was short, no more than five foot three, and
very slim. She wore a white cardigan with elbow-length
sleeves, a short black skirt, black shoes, and a silver
necklace. She was slightly pretty in a curious way. Her
hands moved quickly as she shuffled some papers and gave
them to the professor.
"Class, meet your new TA, Yukawa Himeko-san. She's from
right here in Tokyo, a sort of child prodigy who graduated
at age sixteen while enrolled here and is already working
on two degrees now--theoretical physics and biochemistry.
This is part of her work, so please respect her as she
works with me." He bowed, then she turned to the class and
gave a graceful bow. "Yoroshiku onegaishimasu," she said
softly. "I am very pleased to work with you all."
The class sat in stunned silence. Burashu, naturally,
broke it.
"All right! Class is starting, everyone get out paper and
pencil. I have a quick pop quiz to see what you all can
recall from your previous physics courses! Yukawa-san will
pass out the papers. You may begin in five minutes."
***
"I want out," Ranma mumbled as he stared at the syllabus.
"Ryoga! I'm gonna die! I didn't realize that having taken
that one sissy science class back in freshman year somehow
means this one comes next!"
"You'll survive. Remember, he's setting a scale. 50% is
passing the class. So don't worry, man. I gotta go to the
math class! See ya later!"
Ranma looked at his paper. He had answered the first
question right--a very basic Newtonian mechanics question
involving spheres colliding and some angles. Nothing else
worked. He had received half credit for some of the
rotational motion work, but that was a total shot in the
dark. If he wanted a passing grade, he would have to get
outside help. He *could* always drop the class.
Which one would it be? Ranma looked at Burashu's schedule,
and noticed that Yukawa's schedule was there as well. She
had the next thirty minutes free; Ranma decided to converse
with her about leaving the class.
***
"Computers," Himeko muttered to herself as she poured
herself some tea and typed a few more constants into the
program. She had, on a whim, designed a program
simulating--to a very limited extent, of course--quantum
foam. After she managed to establish a pattern, she wanted
to make a screensaver out of it for her laptop. For some
reason, the 3-space vectors were looking very strange.
"Ah, there we go. I was in cylindrical coordinates." She
pressed a button and the screen cleared for a moment, then
went back to plotting a bizarre surface with holes,
bubbles, bridges, contortions, and all sorts of anomalies.
Himeko smiled at this. She had input a program to
associate a certain pattern with a certain number, and if
she were lucky, after twenty frames of the surface
shifting, it would have changed back to the beginning.
This ought to be amusing. She stopped the program and
stared at the code. Surely there was a way to. . .
A knock on the door jerked her away from her thoughts.
With a sigh, she called out. "Come on in!" As the doorknob
turned, she typed a few more lines of code into the
program.
A student walked in, a well-built boy, nineteen years old,
with long black hair pulled back and he was looking at her
with startling slate-blue eyes. He looked a little
embarrassed to be here, and held his earlier quiz in his
hand. Ah, wasn't he the boy who didn't seem to understand?
"You are. . .? Please have a seat." She sounded so
uncertain, she knew. Himeko was too shy, too inexperienced
with real teaching, for something like this. . .*why* had
Burashu put her schedule on his? "Um. . .how may I help
you?"
Ranma was surprised at her gentle voice. "I'm Saotome.
And, um, well, you see, I need to drop the class. I was
mistaken in taking it. You see--" trying desperately to
save face, he looked her in the eyes. "It's not like I'm
stupid or anything, but. . ."
"I didn't say you were stupid," she said, her voice quiet.
"It's all right. I understand." Then she sat forward a
little, her eyes bored into his for just a moment, and
Ranma detected something intensely brilliant in the dark
blue eyes, and an edge to her soft voice. "However, know
now that this class will not tolerate slackers or apathy.
If you want to stay in, you *will* work, and you *will*
learn." She sat back in the chair and her eyes were gentle
again.
Then, Ranma took a good look at her face. The big blue
eyes. The lovely mahogany hair, silky dark tresses flowing
down her slender back. Her silky, satin-smooth, ivory-pale
skin. Her sweet, shy smile, the startled look that
belonged to someone *he* knew. Something looked so
familiar; he could not quite place it. She did not remind
him of Akane--not at all. Nor was she like Shampoo or
Ukyo. . .those names ran through his mind with a bitterly
painful twinge before the cold snap passed and Ranma
blinked, coming back to his senses.
"Saotome-san?" her voice came back to him, disembodied,
floating in the space of his thoughts. Quickly, Ranma
brought himself back down to earth, and nodded. "Sorry. I
was. . .um, trying to understand the calculations for the
fifth problem."
Himeko looked. "Oh, that. I understand that Professor
Teki did not go over this part last year. It involves the
harmonic functions of--"
"No, no. I only took *one* freshman class, introduction to
science or something. I'm not suppose to be in this class
at all." Ranma tried to explain his incompetence. "There's
no way I'm gonna survive this class. I need to drop it,
fast, before my grades get worse. I mean, I only know
mechanics, a bit of electricity, and the first few pages'
worth of optics. I don't know any of this fancy Gauss
stuff and whatnot."
"I see." Himeko tried to process it. "You really need to
talk to someone besides me to handle this one. But, um, I
think that you should really stay in the class. It's not
as if you're the only student from that class who is here,
you know. . .besides, it would be hard to switch into
another class. You are already in the smallest one. And
this is an elective, so I assume you *want* to learn
physics." Her tone almost implied that he *should* want to
learn. Ranma was slightly annoyed, until he remembered
that he *had* elected to take the class himself.
"True." Ranma thought it over to himself. "Can I take it
pass-fail? Or audit? I just don't know--"
"Pass-fail, no. As for the rest. . .um. . .talk to
Professor Burashu for that," she said again, sounding a
little unsure, her fingers fiddling with some papers filled
with strange-looking equations. Ranma looked at her. God,
the girl was *young*! "How old are you?" Too late, he
remembered it was not very polite to ask such things.
"Eighteen," she replied with a gentle smile.
"You're younger than I am," Ranma mumbled, startled. "S-
sorry to be rude. It's just that Burashu-sensei. . .said.
. ." he looked at her, taking in the fresh, pretty
features. "I'm nineteen. . .so I was kinda surprised. . ."
He flushed, hoping she would let him live this down. "Err,
sorry, sorry."
Himeko smiled, her hand rising to hide her mouth in
ladylike politeness. She was clearly amused, but Ranma
noted with relief that there was only mirth and no mockery
or derision in her eyes. "I see," she said, laughing
gently at his blunder. "It's perfectly fine." She gestured
at Ranma's folded test paper. "Pull up a chair. Perhaps
we can solve the problem without you needing to drop this
class. Shall we start discussing?"
***
This was amazing.
It was not the first time, but Himeko was always surprised
and gratified when it happened. She *loved* her studies,
and despite her shyness, if it got down to business, all
the bashfulness melted away, her hands stopped shaking, and
she forgot that she was nervous in front of other people.
She was doing something she loved as much as life itself.
Therefore, she looked very professional, knowledgeable, and
helpful to everyone who passed her office.
Ranma was particularly impressed. Never had he met someone
like this, especially someone *younger* than he was--a girl
who now expertly and fluidly leading him by the hand
through a labyrinth of equations and concepts. He watched
her eyes, bright as they were, gliding over the paper and
quickly processing the jumble of information laid out in
thick textbooks that she grabbed from some ancient wooden
bookcases.
She did a particularly good job, sensing when he needed
help. Darn, he thought with no little envy, this girl is a
good teacher. Eighteen years old and doing this, he mused
with incredulity. He was a martial arts prodigy; he should
not have been so surprised to find the same sort of talent
in other areas, and in other people. It was just that he
did not often have such close contact with persons of
admittedly high intelligence.
Ten minutes passed before the doors flew open, slammed
with a long bang on the walls, and the jovial professor
came in, carrying a stack of wooden boards with all sorts
of homemade circuits taped to their surfaces. Ranma,
alarmed at the product of home-brewed science, shifted the
chair forward. Himeko looked up, laughed, and found a
cardboard box for the concoctions.
"Saotome, right? Ah, I see you've already decided to study
for the class! That's great, exemplary, just wonderful!"
He laughed as he grabbed a book and some papers, muttering
about grading. Then he turned to Ranma again. "Glad to
see you're making full use of the TA. I've got enough
going on as it is--I'd love to be with the students more--
but you all will have to go through her most of the time."
He threw a stack of folders next to Himeko, who barely
dodged the missiles. "Anyway, she's very capable, just a
tad shy, so I'm hopin' you guys will be nice to her. Isn't
that right?" He patted his student on the head, leaving her
slightly dazed from the mad rush of chatter and movement.
Ranma suppressed his laughter--this professor was Speedy
Gonzalez on a caffeine high, no doubt about it. Himeko
gave the teacher a few wary glances as he poured himself a
big mug of coffee and shut the door on his way out.
Ranma looked at her and smiled.
"Yukawa-san, please go on. You were explaining Brewster's
Angle?"
She smiled. "Yes."
***
Akane groaned to herself as she stared at the paper in
front of her. What kind of test was this?
"Name six major antibiotics used in treating patients with
tuberculosis."
Okay, she had no idea, no idea at all. She had to admit
it--she had stayed up last night not studying for the well-
announced first test of the year, but instead, hanging out
in the dorm's studying room, which somehow and not very
wisely doubled as a lounge. Akane had been playing
monopoly with some new (and old) friends for three hours
when she should have been memorizing the chemical formulae
of steroids and choice anti-inflammatory drugs.
Pencil to paper. Write, Akane, write. . .think of
something. Amoxycillin. Sure, that sounded good and was
commonly used for most bacterial infections. Penicillin.
Always good for wild guesses when it came to antibiotics.
Maybe. . .ampicillin? Rifamycins were used--that one she
knew for sure.
"Draw the structure of aspartic acid."
Huh?
"Describe the. . ."
Akane stopped reading. She rubbed her tired brown eyes,
ran a hand through her short, thick hair, cut into a
rounded Peter Pan style. If only she had gone to bed
before one in the morning, then this ten o' clock test
might not be so bad. Besides, she was sure she knew,
somewhere in the back of her jammed mind, how the ribosomal
interference antibiotics worked. At least this was *pre*-
pharmacy school, so she had a little bit, though not too
much, leeway for days like this. Besides, the professor
was nice. Akane should pass without too much trouble.
"If your employer, Doctor Hisaka, orders an unusually large
quantity of Valium under his name, what should you do?"
Call his boss and make not-too-vague hints of substance
abuse, Akane thought with a dry smile. Funny how they
tried to teach you ethics in these classes. She wrote
that, then added something mentally: next, replace his
order with similar-looking laxatives. She smirked a
little, then moved on.
This was not what she had expected. She wanted to study
something useful, so that if she didn't make it in the
martial arts world, if the Tendo Dojo went under, she would
have a career to fall back on and make a living. Survival
was an issue here. This was easier than medical school or
anything in the sciences, more interesting than history or
literature, Ranma was in business, and pharmaceuticals were
not as "touchy-feely" (or so Ranma called it) as nursing.
So she had chosen this path.
Too bad it was *such* an awful choice. Akane could not
count the number of times she promised herself that she
would quit. But there were two reasons she did not: one,
there was nothing else she wanted to study anyway. Two,
Doctor Tofu was covering her college expenses. Money was
not coming easy: Kasumi scrimped and saved despite marrying
Tofu, the doctor--she had to finance Akane; Nabiki lived on
a shoestring stipend and studied off a scholarship far away
in America; Ranma. . .Ranma was on an athletic stipend.
Besides, Akane wasn't sure that he would not be happier
camping in the woods and living there anyway. This was
just *her* problem. Akane could not help but feel a little
grouchy at that idea.
No point in complaining. Akane kept taking the test.
"Describe the medication you might administrate to a
patient with moderate fever, complaints of malaise, and
slurring of speech."
The guy's probably got medulloblastoma.
***
"Hmm, first day. . .could've been better, but not too bad,"
Himeko thought silently as she finished her glass of water,
stuffed her calculator into her purse, and made sure that
she had marked all the papers. Seven o' clock, by her
book, was time and a little past for dinner. The day had
been quite tiring for her. She was the TA for two classes,
and had to shift gears when she walked into the biology
building to work on that dissertation for her biochemistry
degree. Miyake-sensei, thankfully, was most helpful. She
had known him from earlier days, joining a special 'young
scientists' group at the university while she was still in
high school. He was her supervisor now, as well as her
thesis advisor for the next seven years.
Fate could not have been kinder towards her.
She lived in her grandma's old house (her family was not
very intact and had quickly disintegrated), which was very
lucky for her: a girl on her own rarely had such good
provisions. As it was, she had a nice, pretty house in
Meguro. The home, near the end of the dead-end little
street, was a small, standard A-frame house. It was
painted white, and there were some large trees in the
background, framing the house and making it seem like a
cottage. The lawn was a little overgrown, but flowers
lined the path of the driveway and the sidewalk leading up
to the door. Himeko did not own a car; she took the bus,
train, or she walked. More flowers were in wooden boxes
that perched precariously on the wooden windowsills--all
her grandmother's doing. She had raised Himeko. Back when
she was alive. Before Himeko was more or less on her own.
When necessity dictated it, Himeko occasionally stayed at
her friend's dorm. Yoshikawa Raiha, a good friend from
high school days, was a sophomore preparing to study
architecture. For unexplained reasons, she had a double
dorm to herself, which made it easy and handy for Himeko's
occasional visits. Himeko did not have undergraduate
living quarters, but she did have all the staff dining
discounts and other such bonuses. It was not all that bad,
as the cafeteria food was decent, most of the professors
were kind to her, and Moboroshi-san made great coffee.
Besides, Miyake-san and his wife, Haneno-sensei, were
practically her parents on campus. It made the reclusive,
admittedly one-track minded, not to mention shy girl feel
much less lonely.
It was the second week of April, school just beginning, and
there was a huge influx of freshmen on campus. Himeko
smiled, glad that she had gotten the bachelor's degree out
of her way by the day she first set foot on campus as an
official student. By now, her master's was finished. It
was good to know that her next seven years were devoted to
study. Now that she had a goal and a grant, she could
start tackling other parts of life, no longer having to
worry as much about a roof over her head and food on the
table.
Now she could look forward to a good night's. . .what was
this, a message? She pressed the button.
<Beep>
"Moshi moshi, Himeko? This is Professor Miyake. My wife
and I though you might want to have dinner with us, plus we
can discuss your thesis together, I'm particularly excited
by what you mentioned about the chemiosmotic--anyway, we
can discuss this later. Would you mind coming out to
dinner with us? We planned on going to the Pasta Grill, you
know, the one right off campus. Call back, please! ASAP!"
<Beep>
Ooh, dining out! This was rare enough! Himeko smiled with
anticipation as she picked up the phone and started to
dial.
***
"Moshi moshi, this is Miyake. . .yes! Good, glad you got
the message. . .yes, that's right. . .I'll pay, by the way.
. .oh, come on!. . .Yes, do bring your materials; I have
some things to show you and some suggestions. . .six sounds
good. No reservations, I don't think. . .I'll call anyway.
Yes. Bye!"
***
"Um, Akane, you do know that I work on Monday, Wednesday,
and Sunday nights at the Pasta Grill." Ranma hefted his
backpack a little, looking at his annoyed fianc�e. "You
can come, but I won't be accompanying you at the dinner
table, that's all. I mean. . .I'd love to. . ."
No, he did not really want to, that was the problem. He
did not need to have a nice dinner with her. He had far
too many things to think of just now. For instance, that
problem set from physics class.
"We've hardly seen each other since Spring Break," Akane
complained, mumbling half to herself yet hoping that Ranma
would hear. "If you don't want to put up with me--" here
she glared at him--"fine, I can deal with it. Jerk." She
added the last word under her breath, hoping that it would
stimulate him into at least a response.
Yes, that was the problem. Not hate, not dislike, but
general apathy. Since her. . .declaration of love. .
.three years ago, they had been together. How could it not
be? She had said it, and he had heard her. There was no
way the family, not to mention the friends on both sides,
was going to let them escape the trap of carelessly spoken
words. He had thought she loved him--had thought that she
was all he had ever wanted. After all, his heart quickened
when she stepped near, his blood pounded when another male
touched her, and she acted likewise towards him. He missed
her when she was gone. She was sad when she hurt him.
Too bad it did not *really* amount to love.
Too bad it amounted to two people who had once loved each
other with the slow burn of fire and ice, but the love had
melted away, leaving behind only emptiness. At least there
was little, if any, real hurt. It was a silently,
unspoken, mutual agreement, one reached by two mature
parties who knew enough to stay together because there was
no choice, or at least, no better choice.
He knew it, and she knew it. Something stubborn, something
like shreds of affection and love, clung to their joined
forms. Now and then, one of them felt guilt, or perhaps
the last sparks from the smoldering embers, and would try
to grow closer, but it was always futile.
When had they first realized it? It was probably after
graduation, when the two stood in the school yard, wearing
uniforms--yes, Ranma had put one on for the occasion--with
ribbons pinned to the clothes. They were standing with the
cheering students and teary-eyed teachers watching the
youths move on with life. It ought to have been such a
happy moment. College came up next: freedom, adulthood,
and of course, love. Ranma and Akane had watched couples,
arm linked in arm, walking around the campus and talking
about their plans for their futures, together. Graduating
students tore off the second button of the uniform and gave
it to their younger loves.
They had looked at the couples, knowing that some would end
in vows and others in tears.
They looked at each other surreptitiously, stealing glances
when they could. They had laughed, cried, and stayed by
each other for the entire last year of high school.
Knowing that the two were *finally* an official couple,
everyone had left them alone as much as possible. Ukyo had
left for Osaka. Shampoo had gone back to China to face the
wrath of her tribe. Mousse and Cologne. . .who knew what
happened to them. Kodachi was institutionalized, a relief
to the general public. Kuno. . .Kuno was himself, but he
had gotten the message and now only pursued his Pig-Tailed
Goddess. At any rate, they had looked at the madness
around them, and realized that despite their holding hands,
their souls were as far apart as could be.
Now they had each other's company, all they could ever
want, and more. There had been time to settle down and
talk: training in the park, drinking milkshakes in a
sidewalk caf�, eating ice cream cones, sitting at the
beach, or strolling through a mall together. By everyone's
thoughts, this should have fostered their young love, made
it grow, nurturing it like sunshine and water on a bud,
gradually revealing its true form as the lovely rose of
love.
By the start of their second year of college, it was
painfully obvious to even Kasumi and Nodoka that it had not
happened. They should have become lovers now, true lovers.
They were hardly friends. Bound to a now meaningless
phrase, "I love you". The meaning was lost and gone, worn
away and faded like pencil marks on old letters. They
talked to each other, did not fight that often, Akane never
hit Ranma anymore, Ranma never insulted Akane. You would
think that things would have gone more smoothly.
He could not say no to her.
She could not take back her words.
They desperately *wanted* to love now. There had been so
much promise just a little while ago. The families counted
on it. The schools just *had* to be united, Kasumi said
placidly. Love will come one day. Why worry about that
now? Besides, Akane, I see the way you two look at each
other. Surely there's love in there somewhere.
She hadn't found it yet.
"Okay. I. . .I guess I'll go with a friend," Akane said
slowly. "I'll bring Nozomi. . .a new friend of mine from
school. She's a first-year student." As if to say, don't
worry, I won't get on your back or your case. I just want
to be there.
Because she did, in spite of it all, feel a spark and burn
for him--for what reason, she had no idea.
***
The Pasta Grill was an indoor and outdoor caf�, complete
with wrought-iron chairs, silk umbrellas, glass-topped
tables, and servers dressed in green-and-white striped
uniforms. It was bustling, as evening brought its usual
crowds of students, teachers, and a small percentage of
everyone else.
Himeko played with her jet-beaded purse as she strode into
the Pasta Grill, a popular restaurant for both students and
faculty. She looked around the brightly-lit entrance and
caught Miyake waving to her. She waved back, apologized to
several waiting people, and managed to squeeze through the
crowd and find the two professors. They were dressed right
from work: he in vest and tie, she in a blouse and slacks.
Himeko was glad she was still wearing her skirt and shirt;
she fit in perfectly. Waving, she walked up to the table,
smiled at both friends, and sat down. She put her blue
plastic binder, full of papers, on the table. Miyake noted
his own file. They were here to work as well as eat.
Haneno Shiroki smiled at the prot�g�e, told a few jokes,
and they started to examine the menu. The international
restaurant offered a good selection of just about anything
there was. Everything was excellent; they ordered some
pot-stickers, soup, and the "University Special"--namely,
unlimited coffee. No one minded waiting for food, as this
gave them time to begin the discussion on Himeko's research
and what path it should take. She was a math professor,
and not always understanding her husband's research.
However, it was interesting enough for her to nod and
listen as the two discussed something involving certain
protein complexes. When they started naming specific amino
acid sequences, complete with excessively long names,
Shiroki tuned out. *This* she did not need.
"Food's here," she announced to her husband with a tap on
the shoulder and a pretty laugh. He and Himeko hung on,
discussing yet another chain of alpha-helices until
Shiroki, growing exasperated, gave Miyake a good-natured
cuff on the head. He blinked, saw the food, and the three
commenced dinner.
***
"Another pot of coffee to table O-6!" Ranma sighed as he
heard the call, brushed his uniform a little, and went to
get a refill. The outdoors portion of the caf� was always
occupied with people, and since the diner ran 24 hours a
day, there would be people outside until it became too dark
for everyone except amorous couples or astrophysics
students.
"Got it, got it," he grumbled under his breath as he
grabbed the silver coffeepot and started to thread his way
through the crowd of customers, smiling at those who looked
at him. Akane was supposed to be here somewhere. He
wondered just what she was doing. His eyes ran over the
crowd, but he could make out no one, much less a girl with
a short haircut, just one of many.
"Go study in your dorms, that's what they're for," Ranma
muttered as he went outside and towards the table in
question. "Don't come here and make *my* life miserable,
you. . ."
"Saotome-san?"
Himeko, hand outstretched for her coffee mug, turned her
head and looked up at Ranma's startled eyes. She smiled.
"Hi," he replied with a smile, and set down some extra
napkins. "Out to dinner with the profs, I see." His eyes
swept over the two unknown teachers and he respectfully
bobbed his head at them. "Studyin' more physics?"
"You need more appreciation for science; I can see that
much," Shiroki said with an amused expression. She looked
at Himeko. "Classmates?"
"No, he's in the physics class I teach with Burashu-san."
Himeko brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face.
"He came into the office, so we. . .had a talk." She looked
back at her plate, with fried dumplings, which she had not
yet touched. Himeko looked at him, and smiled. "You work
here?"
"Yep." Ranma reached out with the coffee. He got a good
look at her face, a close-up, and he could have sworn that
something looked familiar. But there had been no prodigies
at Furinkan High School, and he could not recall ever
meeting her. She wasn't one of Akane's many friends, and
she was from Tokyo, so he hadn't met her during his
travels. He must be mistaken.
She smiled. "Are you having a nice time?"
~~~
[ Monday, 3:00 PM, Kyoto ]
"Are you having a nice time?"
The young girl blushed prettily as she looked at him,
afraid of intruding on a stranger's silence and making
unwanted conversation. Her few, but close, friends could
have told Ranma that she was far too shy to strike out on
her own and attempt to make many new friends. She would
have been an inch or so shorter than his girl form. This
girl was wearing a seifuku, a sailor uniform with a blue
collar, red kerchief tie, and pleated blue skirt the same
shade as the collar and cuffs. The shirt was long-sleeved
and had little cuffs with thin white ribbon stripes. The
collar was similarly decorated. She was clearly a student
of Ichiban High School.
Ranma cursed his luck. Every second-year student from both
schools was on the collective field trip, the annual travel
all high schools in Japan take. His trip was nice enough,
to Kyoto, the ancient, beautiful, picturesque city. The
two schools had some sort of confusion as to conflicting
travel plans, so they had decided to incorporate the two
schools together. As such, and to promote "making new
friends", each student from Furinkan paired up with another
student from Ichiban. Some were girl-girl, some boy-boy,
and the rest, obviously, were mixed. The pairing would
last the entire week, no questions asked and no complaints
taken.
How had he gotten paired up with someone like *her*?
>From the moment he set eyes on her, she had her head buried
in a thick, impressive book with a cover in unreadable
kanji, something involving particles and equations thereof.
She looked at him once, only to smile and apologize for
being so negligent of making plans with him for their
itinerary. She did offer him some papers from her leather
book-bag.
They stood outside the hotel lobby--it was late March--
waiting for registration and the other students to gather.
Frankly, he didn't care, not one bit, what plans anyone
made. It was just that she seemed to pay no attention
whatsoever to him. She said hi, she was polite, she asked
if he wanted anything. He said no. So she ignored him.
This was, in a way, pleasant. Ranma liked silent time. In
another way, it ticked him off. Ranma hated having others
brush him off. This girl, while not necessarily doing the
above, was doing a fair imitation of it, and he felt
himself becoming just a tad resentful of her lack of
attention. Besides, that book looked hard. Was she some
sort of genius? Now Ranma started to feel decidedly
uncomfortable.
He looked at her, just as the sunset washed over her petite
figure. Her face was a delicate heart shape. Her hair
tumbled to her hips, and was tied back with a wide ribbon.
The locks were dark black, with glossy, golden-brown
highlights. Her eyes were dark blue, he saw when she
glanced up from the book. He could see that she had a
small-hipped, willowy figure, and was very slim, almost
frail-looking. The red and orange sunset illuminated her
skin shades of gold and cream.
All right, he could certainly put up with her for a week.
She wasn't going to be *trouble* as far as he could tell.
"Yeah," he said.
~~~
"Yes." Ranma smiled at her, taking in her face, not
realizing that his grip had loosened around the handle of
the coffeepot.
"Watch out!" The male teacher's voice, in alarm.
"Owww!" The woman's cry.
"Kyaaaa!" Himeko's voice.
Ranma blinked, then gulped, as he realized he had dropped
the coffee and it had fallen on the table, splattered its
boiling-hot contents all over the table, mixed with the
soup, and destroyed Shiroki's white silk blouse. Himeko,
startled, was holding a burned hand. Miyake, wishing to
prevent injury to the epidermis, jumped up and poured the
pitcher of ice water over the reddening skin. Shiroki
refrained from doing the same, but she grabbed her lap
napkin, wetted it, and started to wipe off her shirt
carefully. Her one consolation was that the shirt was no
longer transparent. Himeko grabbed the rest of the paper
napkins and started to dry her hand off. No blisters were
forming, so they relaxed and sent looks in Ranma's
direction.
"Ah. . .SORRY!" Panicking, Ranma grabbed the coffeepot,
looked at the mess, and gulped. He would do best to keep
this quiet, or he would be fired after only a week on the
job. "I'll get you the soup and. . .and whatever you had
again. Wait, I'll go get a tray. . .wait!" He saw a friend
off somewhere, and waved him over. "Hitoshi! Can you get
this table cleaned up for me? Bring over that tray! I
have to get another soup and stuff!" He looked at Himeko,
who was rubbing her sore hand, and at a thoroughly annoyed
Shiroki. "I'm so sorry. . .it, it wasn't intentional. . ."
Himeko shook her head. "Don't worry about it. It's not a
big deal at all." Miyake looked at Ranma with sympathy.
Shiroki sighed, then dispensed with irritation and set to
helping Ranma clear the table.
***
"So then, the prof tells me, 'it's 2,3,7-triesterglycerol,
but then he said he would accept any variant of esters and
glycerol'." Akane rolled her eyes and stabbed her nacho-
and-taco salad. "I got all of part two, 'cause I know the
biology thanks to the intro course last year. . .I suck at
chem right now; I'm working on that."
The caf� was lively now, and Yukari had to speak up for
Akane to hear the soft-spoken girl's voice. "This is the
first test, though. We get lots of tests in this class; if
you do fine next time, you'll do fine on the grades. It's
not like he's *trying* to screw us over on these things.
Besides, I called tyrosine-kinase an enantiometer of
succinylcholine. You can't get much dumber than that. I
mean, there was nothing about L or D, still. . ." she shook
her head and grinned. "We shouldn't've stayed up so late
playing games!"
"Yeah, really," another girl, Nozaki, spoke up. She
brushed back her long hair and groaned. "Still, you'd
think he had enough to ask without grilling us on the
formula of every step involved in glycolysis. The only one
I even remembered was 1,3-phosphofructokinase. I did think
of fructose bisphosphate, but I left it off. And he
laughed at me when I mentioned that in passing. What a
jerk." She took a bite from her pasta. "Mm, this is good
stuff."
"Yeah." Akane ate another mouthful, her eyes darting
around, wondering if Ranma was anywhere. She knew he was
working this evening, and if she were lucky, maybe she
would get to see him. Problem was, everyone dressed the
same, and therefore tended to look the same. From the
back, especially in a crowd, it was hard to pick him out--
Ranma was hardly the only male at Tokyo University with
long dark hair. Akane tried to be surreptitious about
this, as her friends were wont to make fun of her if they
knew that she was only thinking of him all evening. She
turned back to her food and nonchalantly bit down some
more. "Yeah, I love this place." Akane leaned back in her
chair. For the whole day, her mind had shifted between
"chemistry lobe" and "Ranma lobe", leaving little for
anything else. And neither function was getting much out
of it for all the energy she had invested.
"I've got to call up Korin-san sometime," Nozaki murmured,
speculatively. "I mean, she's in med school now. I kinda
miss her and her brains."
"Only because you spent the first half of freshman year
copying *her* papers," Akane said pointedly, laughing. "I
don't think you learned your lesson until final exams week.
Lucky you managed to pass the first one, and studied before
the second. Otherwise--"
"Shut it," Nozaki retorted with a grin. "At least some of
us passed the physics final. Who had to take the makeup
test?"
Yukari laughed. "All right, you two, enough is enough.
What say we get together after dinner tonight? We got that
new packet on advanced organic chemistry, the second-year
stuff. It's pretty infamous, so we might want to get right
down to work." She rolled her eyes at the thought. "I
liked chem and bio just fine; I don't like mixing the two."
"Yeah, well, we're in this school, so we've got to." Akane
finished the food, making a mental note to order the same
thing next time--the food had been most excellent. She
stood and pushed the chair back, trying to look nonchalant.
"I've got to go a little early, okay? Here's my part of
the money and some tips. . .yeah. I'll see you guys back
at the dorms tonight, right?"
Yukari and Nozaki both nodded. "Hai."
"Okay, see you there." Akane waved and walked away, trying
not to run.
She *had* to find Ranma.
***
Himeko sat down in the bus. Her hands smoothed the plastic
cover of her files, as if feeling the weight of the
research contained inside. She and Miyake had come to some
very interesting conclusions and had begun a proposal for a
research project--in other words, her dissertation had a
footing.
She sighed as she looked at some dots of coffee stains on
her shirt. Unless some mild bleach took them out, the
shirt was finished. She felt a little bad for Saotome-san.
What was his first same, anyway? Saotome. . .that was a
common enough name in Japan, but it sounded familiar to
her. He hadn't gone to Ichiban High School with her, had
he? She had not been friends with more than two boys
anyway. Most likely, she had seen him somewhere before.
She closed her eyes and waited for the bus to take her
home.
So tired.
***
"Clumsy idiot." Akane laughed, brushing her short hair
back. "Ranma, how could you?" Her soft voice chided him,
not maliciously, not angrily, but teasing. The gentle
raillery brought Ranma's mood up a little.
"Somehow. They were two profs and this one TA from my
physics class. I got kind of surprised, that's all." Ranma
rolled his eyes. He didn't want to tell her that her face
had make him a bit unnerved, and somehow, it was nostalgic.
It would only lead to more trouble.
"TA for physics?" Akane tilted her head. "Is that class
fun at all?"
"Sure." Ranma rolled his eyes. "I had to go for a private
tutoring session. And it's the first day of this class!"
"I thought school started a week ago."
"Just your school, not us. Students came back to school
last week, yeah, but classes started today." He smoothed
his uniform, and glanced at Akane. She was siting in the
kitchen, trying to ignore the shouting and the heavy scent
of cooking smells. "Akane, if you stay in her five more
minutes, you *will* smell like fried bacon for the next two
days *unless* you take a two-hour shower."
Oh, Akane thought. So that's why he always looks like he's
bathed and groomed.
She laughed and pointed at him with a wink. Ranma
shrugged, then looked up when someone called him name and
screamed about delivering two pizzas. He looked at Akane
and smiled. "Break's over. Gotta go now."
"Okay." Akane shouldered her purse and daintily walked out.
"See you tomorrow."
Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow.
***
"Saotome. . .Ranma."
Himeko looked at the class sheet. Now, *why* was the name
so darned familiar-sounding? Something about him seemed so
close. She had seen him for about two hours total, but she
had never really looked him in the face. Maybe he *had*
gone to her old school? She had only spent two years in
high school. It was only natural that she would forget
some names.
Ah, well.
~~~
[ Monday, 3:31 PM, Kyoto ]
"That's. . .good."
Himeko paused and turned another page, trying her hardest
to suppress the urge to run. She *hated* meeting
strangers. Not that she was unbearably shy, but. . .this
guy spoke coarsely, wasn't wearing a school uniform, and
was fighting with a pretty girl from his school. Honestly,
he looked like trouble. Himeko was the conservative girl:
she studied hard, she didn't get out very often, she stuck
by the rules, and spoke politely to everyone, including
those she did not like. In other words, she was a total
stick-in-the-mud, and this boy frightened her.
"So, you like it here in Kyoto?" The boy's voice came
floating over. Himeko looked up. "Yes, it's all right. I
was born here."
Her parents were scientists at the Kyoto University--he a
differential geometry professor, she pursuing a degree in
theoretical physics. They had divorced when Himeko was
two. He moved to somewhere in Europe and disappeared. She
died in a car accident. At that time, Himeko had gone to
Tokyo to live with her grandmother--who would die the year
Himeko entered college.
Silence.
"Oh."
Himeko turned back to a dissertation on parity violation,
complete with works by Lee and Yang.
She glanced over the top of the page. He was fidgeting,
playing with his beat-up duffel bag. At least he packed
light, Himeko thought. All she had was a purse and a small
suitcase. Enough clothes to last the week, toiletries,
some books, camera, extra homework, and a cell phone just
in case of emergency. In the purse was money, ID, plus
pen, pencil, and calculator for the homework.
She wished he would say nothing and leave things the way
they were. If she had *her* way, she could stay in her
hotel room for the entire trip. Not *her* fault that her
grandma had said she needed a good dose of culture and the
outdoors, then sent her on the school trip.
So far, she was getting her wish.
She glanced at the boy again.
It was going to be a bad week. . .
~~~
The door opened, and Himeko stepped off the bus, clutching
her purse.
Saotome Ranma. . .he was nice enough. Maybe she would
remember him sometime. Right now, tere was work to be
done, and no time for useless thoughts.
***
"G'night, Akane!" The voice of her roommate called out
cheerfully in the dark. Akane called back and threw
herself into her bed. The study session had at least
replenished her knowledge of sulfanilamide drugs. She
heard Mio bump into a table before finding her bed and
tucking herself into the sheets.
"Oyasumi nasai, Mio-chan," Akane murmured sleepily as she
shifted her head.
Her face buried in a pillow, Akane thought over Ranma. How
did he like working in a restaurant? It was hard to
support himself, seeing as there was barely any money in
the family. Soun was living off teaching at the dojo.
What extra money there was went to Nabiki, the most
financially promising of the three Tendo girls. Kasumi was
comfortable but no more. Nabiki knew how to save money.
Akane knew her sister wasted nothing.
Ranma. . .Ranma. . .how she wanted to reach out to him, to
tell him and look him in the eyes while she said that she
loved him. Said it again, but this time with more than
just a foolish schoolgirl's impulse. That was nothing. At
sixteen, the fatal mistake had lead to a stagnant
relationship. They had been engaged for three years now.
How she wished that something, anything, had come out of
all their time! Something more than whatever she had now.
She could not even name it.
***
[ April 29, Tokyo, Present ]
"Darnit, Akinori! Turn off that piece of junk! Just
'cause you're up till all hours playin' those blasted video
games of yours doesn't mean you have to torture the rest of
us with them. . ." invectives poured from Ranma as he
opened his groggy eyes and tried to shut out the ballad,
which was currently blasting over some extra speakers.
Ranma could feel the vibrations in his thoracic cavity as
he shoved himself out of bed.
"What?" The music abruptly stopped. The TV turned off.
"Oh, geez! Ranma, you can't deny a guy his fun. . .just
'cause you already got the Tendo girl, doesn't mean I can't
have Garnet!"
"For gosh sakes, she's a *character*!" Ranma rubbed his
eyes. "Anyway, can't you save it for when people aren't
sleeping? I swear, if you keep this up, you'll get your
butt kicked one of these days. Maybe by me, or the guys
next door."
"Quit it, Saotome," Akinori, a CE/EE double major,
grumbled. He flipped the console off anyway. "At least I
don't wake up people practicin' my martial arts at night.
And *I* never broke through a wall."
Good point. "Shut up." Ranma wandered over to his closet
and pulled out a shirt and some pants. "Anyways. . .you
were just the same last year, weren't you? As I recall,
you managed to convert the projector into a TV screen thing
and played 'Breath of Fire' in the auditorium."
"It was fun!"
Ranma went into the bathroom to shower. It was going to be
a long day.
***
Ranma swore loudly when he went through his backpack and
realized that he had forgotten to do his math homework. He
*hated* math with a vengeance, but it did him little good.
The teacher seemed to have a passion for Markov chains,
which were indeed useful for business purposes, but were
far above Ranma's head. It did not help that the rest of
the class did not share in his difficulty, and were zipping
right through the work--so fast that there was going to be
a quick test in a week. Humiliation was the rule of the
day.
"ARGH!" He also neglected physics. He had only done his
Communications and Economics homework last night. While
most teachers did not necessarily check the homework all
the time, it was still a pain when they did. Ranma had
encountered his share of anal-retentive professors who
insisted you turned in homework in precision. Naturally,
their TA's, who did all the grading, did not really care.
Slacking yet working became a fine art in that class.
He did not realize that his bellow had been quite loud.
"Saotome-san, are we all right?" The math professor's voice
rose, and Ranma cringed. "Sorry, sir."
The professor started droning again.
Ranma wished he were dead. "Well," he realized, "I *could*
always just start on the physics, and get someone else to
explain the math later."
He opened his physics notebook and took out the problem
sets. Pretending to take notes was easy, since he sat in
the back area of the large lecture hall. He frowned when
reading--he understood and managed to do about half the
problems by the time math class was over. Perhaps he would
be lucky, and neither Burashu nor Yukawa would care about
homework. Then again, since both were passionate about
their subject, perhaps not. He had listened to Yukawa, the
usually shy girl, chew out a few students for neglecting
their work.
He winced when the professor entered the room.
***
"SAOTOME! You wanna pass this class, you gotta do the
homework!" Burashu's angered voice rose. Ranma was
slightly intimidated. Burashu was serious, and he had the
muscle to back it up. Something in Ranma's brain reminded
him that physics did not necessarily get physical, but he
backed off a little.
"I tried," he protested angrily, but with a bit of sulking.
True, he had not done it. Burashu was fully right in
criticizing him for it. Ranma nodded, sullen, and made a
mental note to stay up an extra two hours every night.
Yukawa-san walked to the front of the room again, this time
with a paper envelope full of transparencies for the class.
She turned on the projector and quickly slid the first
piece on. On it was a huge table of equations with an
appendix of constants and symbols. "Go ahead--you all have
ten minutes to copy these down," she said, in a tone that
suggested she had already committed all these, and more, to
memory.
A girl from the back raised her hand. "Are we allowed a
sheet on exams?"
"Yes," Yukawa replied with a smile. "One eight-by-eleven
sheet. You may use front, back. . .and the edges, if you
wish."
Scattered laughter came from the students.
Ranma smiled. Yukawa-san had a dry, never malicious, sense
of humor. He had managed to pick up that much from his
meetings with her. He had lost track of the private
tutoring, free of charge, she had given him. Were it not
for her, he certainly would have failed the class. She was
always so kind to him. Always encouraging. . .helping. .
.never demanding. . .only asking that he gave effort. She
was quiet and calm, but he had caught glimpses of intensity
and ambition for her passion, science. Then her eyes
fairly burned with light and he was just a *tad* more
respectful of her--and he knew how she had achieved all
this at her young age.
"Okay," Burashu boomed, "let's go, guys! Another *fun* and
*exciting* day of physics! Today we expand our knowledge
of certain special electrical fields--we're going to have
some fun with them! Get those notes out!"
*Now* Ranma wished he were dead.
***
"Screw you, Ranma!" Akane hollered angrily as she yanked on
her clothes. Thanks to his interference, she had been
totally humiliated in from of her friends last night. It
was some stupid thing, involving drunken students and party
stunts. Ranma and Akane had stayed sober, true, but one
inebriated guy had aimed his intentions at Akane, who
screamed and fled. Ranma, naturally, had stepped in to
protect his fianc�e, leaving her feeling humiliated. It
*had* been sweet, Akane fully acknowledged that, but now
there were jokes in her kempo club about Akane, the club
leader, running from a fight.
"What did your fianc� do?" Yumi, a friend, popped up and
asked. "You invited him to that party. What did he do,
hit on another girl? But we both know he's not that type."
"That was not necessary," Akane replied, simmering a
little. Old habits die hard. "Anyway, it's a long story.
I'm just mad."
"I see," Yumi murmured without a twitch. "Let's go to
class, Akane."
***
"Why am I doing this?"
Ranma asked himself, but expected no real answer.
He stood outside Burashu's office once again. One month
was behind him, and Ranma was somewhat enjoying school. He
was barely passing physics, and this was *only* due to his
weekly tutoring sessions, courtesy of Yukawa-san. Come to
think of it, he had learned a lot about her, and he had
grown to like her. She was still his TA, and he was still
his student, but he now regarded her as more of a friend.
Her attitude was more on the professional side, and she
never tried to be casually friendly.
The troubling part was, he had taken a second look at her
in class.
That was the only reason he was here. He did not need any
help with the class; he simply wanted to talk to her. Any
excuse would do.
He saw when she held her hair with barrettes, or pulled it
back into a clip. He noticed if she wore a necklace or
earrings or a bracelet. When she passed by, he tried to
catch a glimpse of her face. Darn it, he thought.
Saotome, this has to end. For gosh sakes, she's your TA.
Not a friend, not a girl in class, not some random graduate
student. Your *teacher*. You did not go and start liking
your professors! At that thought, he swallowed. The door
opened, and Himeko came out with papers under her arm.
"Good morning, Saotome-san."
Then his mind blanked.
"Morning, Himeko-san. . .I mean. . .Yukawa-san."
By the time he got the words out, she was gone. He cursed
himself. How was he going to get the homework done? Just
because he had thought of. . .that. . .didn't mean it had
to ruin everything! "Wait! I needed to ask you something
about today's lecture!"
Perhaps she did not hear him, for Himeko went on walking.
Ranma groaned and ran after her, then stopped when she
slowed and turned around, her face surprised. "Saotome-
san? Do you need something?"
"Yes!" Ranma caught up and practically shoved the book in
her face. "I don't get this new topic at all! We didn't
cover any of this last year, and I really need some help
with it." Truth be told, he was also happy at the prospect
of spending some time with her. "So, I wondered, when can
you, um, help me with this thing?"
"Not until tomorrow," she said, biting her lip. "All my
free time today is going towards my research. I have
neglected it badly, so I need to get some serious work
done." She sighed. "I know, I know that I am also
responsible towards the students, but. . .well. .
.sometimes things have to give." She looked at the floor,
seemingly frustrated with her lack of time. "Sorry. I
will see you tomorrow, in class. Is that all right?"
"Yeah. Sorry to bug you." Ranma turned and walked away.
He was slightly surprised to find himself more upset at the
prospect of not meeting her than losing help. After all,
he could always go to Ryoga. He hadn't gone to his friend
once for physics homework. It had always been Yukawa-san.
He had kind of, well, like it better that way. She was the
teacher, right?
"And you're not supposed to like your profs!" Ranma swore
under his breath. He turned and watched Himeko disappear
into the crowd of people running around the university's
hallways.
Darn.
It wasn't as if other girls never caught his eye, or Akane
never took a second glance at another boy. No, they were
both human, and occasionally noticed someone else. It had
never been anything beyond a glance, the thought of "looks
cute". Passing by someone did not qualify as anything
beyond just that, a passing. That didn't stop him, or
Akane, from occasional bits of jealousy when the other
looked away. Besides, their bond was not as strong as it
once had been, or could have been.
Did that account for Ranma's eyes turning the other way?
He could not justify unfaithfulness to his fianc�e. He
knew that Akane's biggest expectation, the one thing she
pounded him for, was faithfulness. They were engaged, and
she expected him to behave as such--though it was often
without regard to circumstances. Still, if she didn't play
around, neither should he. He had no right to be doing
this.
A passing student nearly knocked Ranma over, effectively
jerking him out of his short meditation. Swearing, he
collected his dropped books and went back to his dorms, to
wait for his next class.
His feet dragged on the floor, almost unwilling to leave
the building. With annoyance, Ranma hurried, overriding
the tug in his legs and headed outside. The air was warm
and sweet, with a lingering smell of blossoming trees and
the flowers from the botany display projects. He paused to
take it in, then hurried his steps.
"Ranma!" Ryoga came hurrying around the corner. "Akane
came looking for you. She's sitting right out your dorm
building's doors." He looked at Ranma. "Are you even
listening to me?"
"No," Ranma said, his voice flat. The thought of seeing
Akane seemed to him far too heavy, like a lead weight on
his shoulders. "I can't. I have to go to the library and
study."
"So study with her." Ryoga looked at his friend, peering in
his eyes. "She came all the way from her campus to be with
you for a little while."
Ranma looked at his friend. Hard to believe that they had
once fought over Akane. Then again, after Akari took a
foothold, Ryoga had backed off very quickly. "Does she
really want to sit with me while I read up on Markov
Chains? Or does she have an interest in those functions we
discussed today?" His hands dropped to his sides. "I don't
feel like seein' her today, Ryoga. I just don't."
Ryoga was one of the few people with enough insight and a
long enough friendship with Ranma to know his deeper
thoughts. As such, he knew of the rift between the two.
"Calm down, Ranma. I'm sure that. . ." That what? He had
watched them for three years and it had come to naught.
"Never mind. Just go see her. You can't leave her sitting
there."
"True," Ranma mumbled, turning away from Ryoga and starting
towards the dorms. His confused friend grabbed him by the
shirt. "Ranma! What's wrong with you? You ain't acting
like yourself at all! You okay?"
Ranma turned and gave him a dark look.
"No, Ryoga."
~~~
What's this I'm feeling?
Ranma, can't you just push it back and let it go?
You like her, don't you?
~~~
He walked on, dreading the meeting. He walked on, and saw
Akane sitting on the bench, her face turning bright when
she saw them, then her look becoming concerned when she saw
his leaden expression. He sat down next to her and stared
at his feet.
Akane swallowed. She had never seen him like this before.
. .well, so she had, but only when he was overcome by
something terribly heavy, the likes of a personal crisis.
He had looked like that when he thought she was gone--when
he had lost the dojo--when his mother almost died last
year. She touched him, a lingering, gentle, warm touch on
his arm, then turned her questioning eyes to look at his
face. So handsome, yet covered up with something else.
"Ranma, please tell me, what's wrong?" Her voice was soft
and beseeching.
"Nothing." He spoke in a voice two shades louder than a
whisper, slumped over and staring at a pile of books. "You
said you wanted to go to the library?"
"Yes, but I'll let that go if. . .if you're not feeling up
to it."
"Thanks." His voice was hollow, slightly angry, definitely
upset. "Sorry, Akane. Not today. I know you came all
this way, and I'm sorry for making all this trouble for
you, but--"
"See you later." A second later, she had darted from her
place and run off, visibly angry, or perhaps upset. Ranma
could not see her face when she left, but he saw her quick
steps and judged her emotions. He had been learning to
read emotions now. Three years since Akane had shown hers,
and he was beginning to think that it had done no good.
Time to head for math class.
Wasn't that the nice thing about math and science? There
was *always* a right answer, no arguments, it was right.
You might not *know* what the spin is, but there *is* one,
and you can take comfort in that thought. There was only a
certain set of solutions--clear-cut, carved into the laws
of nature by divine choice or cosmic processes, something
you could not violate or argue.
If only life was like that, he thought. Boring, but at
least. . .easy.
End One
******
n.n What do you think?
Thanks for reading. :)
---Irene
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