An Ukyou fic!

*Ginrai drops everything else he was C&C'ing to C&C this fic*

And the above was written in December... *sigh*

But, fear not!  For my fanboyishness would make sure that this gets 
commented on. ^_^;

This is early, but I might not remember to/be able to later.

Glad I get to read it now than later ^_^

Plain Okonomiyaki

Ohh....  So it's a fic where Akane snaps, thinks that Ranma likes Ukyou 
and so decides to kill off the okonomiyaki chef and dress up as her, 
only to find her plans go horribly wrong as she can only create plain 
okonomiyaki? ;)

Disclaimer: As always, the paints belong to Takahashi, I'm merely
borrowing them for my own easel.

Notes: No pre-readers, because it's supposed to be a surprise. Could
be whenever. Don't think about it too hard; it's just a seasonal story.

---------------------------

Christmas, as far as she could remember, was a romantic holiday.

Unless she was going by the Weird Al song...

A day for lovers.

Which made her wonder where Ranma was.

Ukyou: Out buying a present, of course.

Sighing, she shut down the grill, preparing to close early. It wasn't
a great day for business, either, because okonomiyaki was generally
not considered romantic. She disagreed with the sentiment of

Not surprised with that ^_^

okonomiyaki being unromantic, but could easily understand the desire
to go somewhere nicer instead, hence the relative lack of business.

But that'll make things easier when Ranma comes along.

With a shake of her head, she trotted out to the street, where a
light fall of snow was drifting down. She spent a moment with the
door open, merely staring upwards, watching the little motes of
white flit about on their way to the ground.

Descending in their slow dance, they whirled merrily, coating
everything with a pristine, clean white shroud. She smiled at the
image, turning about and taking down the curtain over the door. It

'image before turning about' - I think

was probably silly, but would make a cute poem.

Sliding the door shut, and placing the curtain away carefully, she
passed into her room, gathering pen and paper, then, after a moment
of hesitation, set the pen down. Rifling through a small box of
memories from her father, she retrieved a much prized and

Do you mean 'from' or 'of' here?

well-tended ink-brush, a moment later adding a somewhat newer bottle
of ink.

Ah, I see where she's going.  It does have a nicer effect using ink.

Returning to the grill, she took a seat at one of the covered boxes
that served as stools, comforting herself with the slowly fading
heat of the grill, and pulled a small clipboard from behind the
counter. Paper comfortably in place, and ink set on the small lip of
counter that sat before the grill, she smiled. All was in readiness.

Something about the last sentence seems off, though it's probably just 
me.

Taking a moment to put her thoughts into words, she carefully lowered
the brush to the ink, and then, set it to paper.

Long years of brushing okonomiyaki lent her a small modicum of skill,
and she had tried to refine that skill as much as she could; though
she was not often taken to poetry. Yet, something about the moment
strove to be captured, prompting her to retrieve the treasured ink
brush.

The holiday's usually have that effect on people.

Born among the stars,
they dance to Earth, and apart,
then dance close once more.

Nice.

Done, she held the paper away from her, and studied it critically.

'her and studied'

The brushwork was nearly flawless, but small details nagged her,
needling that it wasn't perfect.

Still, for the time, it would be good enough. Signing it carefully,
she added a delicate, 'To my beloved Ranchan' at the top, smiling

'delicate 'To my' - I think (well, either that or there's supposed to 
be a comma after 'Ranchan').

happily at it. It wasn't perfect, she knew, but it was also the best
she could truly hope for.

Her smile faded, as she returned ink, papers, and brush to their

'faded as' - Unless you meant it faded before she returned the items.

proper places. A gift without a recipient was useless, though. She
spent a moment pondering the haiku, unsure what to do with it.
Sighing sadly, she carefully folded it in three, setting it aside,
and pondering.

'pondered'

There was nothing more to worry about at the moment, at least.
Reclining slightly, stretching her arms into the air above her, she
yawned.

Of course, in her dreams, Ranma would come, and she would answer the
door, and he would shyly present her with a gift -- maybe a ring, or
a scarf, or chocolates... But then she would give him his gift, and
they would talk softly and hold hands deep into the night, which
would end with a kiss.

Yeah, that's about how most her fantasies go.

The reality of the situation would likely be different, she admitted
to herself. Most likely there would be no Ranma at all, and were he

Ukyou doesn't think she'll end with Ranma?

to arrive, it would be without a gift, and most certainly the night
would end without any handholding, or... a kiss.

A tremulous tapping at the door interrupted her thoughts, and she
jumped, scurrying to answer it apprehensively.

Standing in the doorway, scarf over his shoulders in the twilight,
shivering very slightly, was the very boy she had been thinking of.

Woo-hoo!

Ahem... ^_^;;

"Hiya, Ucchan," he managed, smiling apologetically.

"Ranchan!" she exclaimed, hurrying him inside and closing the door

Least something ends up taking him away from her all of a sudden.

after him. "Why... why are you here?" She knew better than to think
it was for the reason she wanted it to be, but... there was hope.

"Um," he began, fidgeting and nervous. "I don't know," he admitted
after a moment. "I just... didn't want to be... there... right now."

He just can't say he wanted to be with her.

"Your father?" Ukyou asked cautiously.

How'd she come up with that conclusion?

Ranma paused hesitantly, and scratched the back of his neck in
embarrassment. "Well... that's a good part of it. I thought, um...
if you weren't busy, I'd maybe visit with you for a bit."

Shows that he cares.

She smiled brightly. "I should have known you were coming," she said
cheerfully, motioning him to a seat. He sat as she directed, looking
at her in confusion. Picking up the short poem she had written for
him, she presented it cautiously, blushing faintly and biting her
lip, unable to meet his eyes in the heat of the moment. "I... I made
this for you," she managed tremulously.

Probably hoping that he'll like it.

He accepted the paper, unfolding it carefully and reading it,
scanning the page several times to consider the meaning before he
looked up. "Oh," he said quietly. "I... I guess I never really
looked at it that way before."

Seems he got a different meaning out of the haiku.

"Ranchan?"

"Um... I mean, I know you said it, but I never really thought of... I
mean..." He folded the paper up and set it on the counter, thinking
deeply. "I wish I had gotten something for you," he said after a
moment, his tone clearly carrying his dismay at his lack of forethought.

"Don't worry about it," she laughed, smiling at the way he fidgeted.
"Have you had anything to eat, yet?"

'eat yet'

"Uh... no. I was in a hurry, and... sorry."

"Don't be," she laughed again, glad simply of not being alone for the
night. "I'll heat the grill up. What would you like?"

"I, uh... um... just... whatever's easiest for you," he managed,
appearing slightly guilty.

Yeah, usually have that feeling when I'm unable to return a favore.

"Ah," Ukyou said, nodding knowingly. "You're guilty because you
didn't get me anything?" she teased.

"Hey!" he protested. "It's not, uh, no, I mean... uh..."

Ranma's awful when it comes to a poker face.

She giggled, shaking her head. "Then I'll make you a plain
okonomiyaki," she announced. "Just like the snow outside."

"Okay," he agreed. "That's fine by me."

Blinking, she raised an eyebrow. "I was kidding, Ranchan... are you
sure?"

"Why not?" he asked, smiling softly.

Giggling again, Ukyou did as he requested, swiftly making an
okonomiyaki with nothing more than the bare essentials. Serving him
the lone okonomiyaki, far too dark to truly be compared to snow, she
shut the grill off, and moved to sit at his side.

He smiled at her as he tasted it cautiously. "Wow," he exclaimed,
turning to stare at the okonomiyaki in surprise. "This is really
good, Ucchan!"

She flushed at the compliment; she received many such words

Maybe change the first 'she' to 'Ukyou'.

throughout the day, but a positive comment from him was so rare as
to be treasured. "Thank you," she mumbled, staring at her feet
bashfully.

"Um... Ucchan, I... I didn't get you anything, so, um... if there's
anything I can do for you, just tell me."

Words that Ranma would rarely tell a fiancee ^_^

She looked upwards, peering into his face intently as he remained
nervously unsure. "Anything?" she asked. "Anything at all?"

"Well... yeah, sure, I guess," he mumbled.

"Then... then come with me!" she commanded, grinning impishly, and
holding a hand out to him.

He accepted the hand after a moment, still nervous, and she tugged
him outside, where the coat of snow on the ground had thickened to a
carpet a few inches deep. This late, even her and Ranma's earlier

'carpet few inches' - I think

footsteps had vanished, leaving the street bare and flawless for the
pair of them.

A very beautiful scene at nighttime.

That is, until I have to wake up the next morning and help shovel the 
snow.

Drawing him to the center of the street, she turned to face him, and
said, "If you'll do anything for me, then I want... I want..." She
broke off, flushing crimson, and managed, "I want you to dance with me."

He stared at her, bewildered and nervous. "Dance? I mean, uh, me? Here?"

"Yes," she insisted, recovering some of her resolve. "You promised,
after all."

"I don't know how," he complained.

"I'll show you," she laughed. "It's not hard, and you promised,
didn't you?"

"Yes," he admitted. "Okay... um, show me how we do it."

Giggling, she led him through the first, clumsy, awkward steps, until
he grasped what she was trying to teach him. He led as they began
again, one hand around the small of her back, the other clasped with
hers, with no regard to being in the middle of the street.

Or the fact that they're dancing on snow.

Public place or not, the night was theirs, and theirs alone. It was
only them, the stars, and the snow, flitting down slowly to veil
everything in a mysterious, dream-like atmosphere.

Nice description.

A third time, much more slowly, they danced without a need for music
beyond the presence of one another. Ukyou sighed contentedly,
leaning her head on Ranma's shoulder as they moved.

"You know what I wish?" Ukyou murmured quietly.

"What's that?" Ranma asked in a soft voice, the reverberations
through his chest giving Ukyou a feeling of closeness as she felt them.

"I wish that we could be like this forever." So saying, she broke
away gently, staring at her feet, and the snow marked with the
footsteps of a pair of dancers, slowly being covered by the still
falling snow. Voice quavering, she continued, "But it can't, can it?
Tomorrow... tomorrow, what we had tonight will be gone, and all that
we'll have for it is a badly written poem about snow, and our memories."

Ranma reached towards her tentatively, then dropped his hands to his
sides. "I don't know," he mumbled after a moment. "I... Ucchan,
maybe. Maybe. I don't know right now. But... but someday, maybe...
maybe I'll come over, and ask you for a plain okonomiyaki." Smiling
ruefully, he added, "Besides, it was a beautiful poem about us, not
snow. I'll never forget that, Ucchan."

Only after this did I realize it could be taken in that way.

Very insightful of Ranma.

She sniffled then, managing a brave smile, and blinking away the

Not sure if 'then' is necessary.

tears as he placed a tender kiss upon her forehead, and bowed his

And, contrary to what Ukyou expected, it ended the way her dreams went 
(sort of).

head apologetically. Walking away into the night, he turned once to
look over his shoulder, and grinned at her. She shivered,
whispering, "I love you, Ranchan."

It wasn't until she was back in the restaurant, door securely
latched, that she realized he had left the poem there. Perhaps...
perhaps he would come for it tomorrow. And maybe, just maybe, he'd
ask for a plain okonomiyaki.

'a' or 'another' (?)

Nice WAFFY ending.

---------------------------
Author's notes:

Joyous Yule and a merry Solstice to all. Here's to a new year of
trials, pain, growth, friendship, and maybe, just maybe, love.

As I said for 'Again We Meet':

Short.  Sweet.  Ranma.  Ukyou.  What could be better? ^_^

Great fic!  Beautifully written and a story all Ukyou (and just maybe 
other) fans will like.  Just sorry that I couldn't comment on this 
earlier.

Now to C&C a recent one of yours.

Ginrai

- Who's trying to force his muse into working on his Ukyou fics again.

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