Debt, love… Fight!

I go from besotted wonder into full alert  mode in one blink. Even worse: I’m pissed off. 

She has exposed herself to unnecessary danger, that fucking old man has mislead her, and she, as naive as a schoolgirl being offered free candy outside of school, has followed him here. 

I take her to my locker room, and she follows me easily enough, doesn’t protest, doesn’t question it, I glance back a few times but she is so overwhelmed by everything around her that she can’t even tell I’m looking at her. I can’t let her be seduced by this place, with its fake luster and easy money, I know it’s the beginning of the end. 

How come I didn’t realize she’s a fucking martial artist? Or maybe a part of me knew instinctively and that’s why I couldn’t help but notice her? The way she moved, her innate agility, the firmness of her posture. Am I some kind of genius for unknowingly knowing??

The hallway is crowded as all hell, and I see some people staring, mainly fans of the Chinese fighters. I bark a few warnings at them, and they seem to get it, though they still give Akane the stink eye before leaving. 

She needs ice and some anti-inflammatory meds, and proper wrapping and antiseptic cleaning for her wounds. I move fast while she crumples, exhausted, onto the couch. Seeing her, laying there on that dirty, nasty sofa awakens an instinct I didn’t know I had. 

I need to take care of her. I have to protect her. 

This is indeed a massive problem. But my problem, and no one else’s. 

Ryu makes me go see the doctor, an absolute fraud in a white coat. I huff annoyed while running through the hallways, and grit my teeth when he takes out a stapler. I only hope it’s at least clean and what a hospital might actually use. When he’s done with me I go back to the locker room, it’s not that Ryu isn’t reliable, I’d trust my brother with my life, but he’s also a nosy asshole with a big mouth, who’s probably asking a lot of stupid and uncomfortable questions.

Shit. He’s probably figured it out by now. 

I go from jogging to running and find my brother at the door, hanging the old man by the neck, probably the best gift he has ever given me. 

An argument follows, because he knows better than anyone what goes on in this place, and she’s not the first girl he brings and ends up beaten to a pulp. I realize again, everything I thought about her was based on a guess.

Because I guessed she was headstrong, prideful and stubborn as a mule; but I never thought she would take it to the absolutely stupidest extreme anyone normal or rational would. 

And now I’m stuck in a new mess, because I’m suddenly training her now, I have to train her so she will not get her pretty neck broken. When all I want is to make sure she never steps foot in here ever again. 

I tell myself I’m doing this to bide my time, that it’s not too late, that I can still convince her to not walk down this road. So she doesn’t end up as pathetic as me. 

.

..

…

Saturday, I wake up a sore mess, physically and mentally. When I finally fell asleep, I slept like a log, so it’s probably close to noon now. I’m hungry, still sleepy, and everything fucking hurts. 

I wonder if Akane managed to get out of bed. Actually, did that stubborn mule go to work? Rolling out of bed, and dragging myself to the kitchen, I open one of the drawers and find an almost empty bottle of painkillers. I guess I’ll have to buy some more later. 

I pop two in, swallow them with a sip of water. Ryu is nowhere to be found, guess he must have gone to train.

Putting on a comfortable pair of pants, a clean t-shirt and an oversized jacket, I grab my keys and phone, and walk out. 

Feeling kind of hungry, I might as well drop by my usual place, since last time I didn’t get to eat my ramen. 

“Tough night”, a voice says behind my back, just as soon as I  step out.

Right. I had forgotten about him. I groan. 

“Do you also work saturdays Hibiki?”

“Crime never rests, and neither do I”, he answers while puffing out his chest. 

The jerkface believes in the fairytales he got told when he was in the police academy, about chasing crime night and day, and how working unpaid overtime is worthwhile. When he was a beat cop he was insufferable, but now that he’s a sergeant he’s basically my worst nightmare. 

“Leave me alone, I just wanna grab a bite to eat”, I answer while walking away, but he is damn stubborn. Takes him two steps to match my pace, and is sticking to me like glue. 

“Doing anything illegal lately?”

“If I was I wouldn’t be telling the police about it”, how dumb does he think I am? Hibiki nods and rethinks the question. 

“Right, well, you could still give me a tip or something, do me a solid.”

“You’re an ass.”

“You owe me one”, he raises his eyebrow, the idiot must think that just because he is a goody two-shoes, everyone else must be one too. He needs to learn better. 

“I owe you nothing.”

“I let you go in that sting operation.”

“It wasn’t a sting operation, you searched me in a public park!”

“And let you go.”

“Because I was doing nothing wrong!!”

Hibiki crosses his arms, while I try to get out of his sight. The reason I have a cop hanging around me like a lap dog, is so stupid it’s embarrassing to talk about. Hibiki was a simple cadet when he apprehended my father when he was robbing someone’s home. A thief’s son is never greeted with open arms at a police station, especially when he shows up beaten up, and with sweat and blood-stained crumpled bills in a paper bag to cover his father’s bail. It made quite a stir, they wouldn’t stop talking about it for months, and Hibiki started to suspect, and true, not entirely without motive, that I was related to the yakuza. He won’t stop pulling that thread. 

“I could stop you at any time you know”, he smirks as he walks backwards, his upper canines showing through. 

“And charge me with what?”

“Being in cahoots with a criminal organization, money laundering, participating in illegal fights, and covering up the ringleader of the operation, a man called Tarô”

“If you are basing this on all the bruises, you should know, I’m such a klutz, I fell down the stairs”, I answer with a smile, “and also, I don’t know who you are talking about”. 

“I will catch you Saotome, and when that happens, you’ll remember my offer.”

“I haven’t heard an offer, only threats.”

Hibiki stops while I keep on walking. 

“Was it yesterday? Friday night? Or do the fights also happen on Saturdays?”

“Really Hibiki, get a girl and forget about me.” He grumbles in response. 

I walk a little faster, and turn left, then through a tiny alley, and again onto the street I was originally on, then take a hard right. There. He must be lost already. The best/worst of Hibiki’s flaws is that he has no sense of direction. Not even with a GPS map with Tarô’s exact location would he be able to get to him. I still don’t get how he passed his police exam, they must be so desperate they’ll take anyone. 

Hibiki has been extra pushy about this for the last few weeks, he still doesn’t get that finding Tarô means nothing, since it would be impossible to link him to his dirty schemes. Like any good mobster, he knows how to not directly implicate himself, using aliases, dirty accountants, and good places to launder the money he wins as the house of the fighting ring. 

I guess the eagerness of being a young cop with stars in his eyes makes him think he’ll triumph when all others before him have failed. Dream on. 

I walk another ten minutes, and right before I turn the corner, the amazing smell of that delicious broth hits me. The restaurant seems pretty busy, and I take my usual spot at the bar. Here, I have a perfect view of the whole place. 

I wait for a few seconds, though they feel like hours, till I see her walk out of the kitchen with two massive trays filled with bowls. My heart drops when I see that she, stubborn mule she is, has indeed, come into work. 

She’s very diligent, serving every table, and only until all her trays are empty does she raise her face and sees me at the bar. She smiles and walks straight towards me. This shouldn’t be making me nervous, I’m not a teenager anymore.

“What will you have?”, flashing that smile that has turned my whole world upside down. 

And I’m trying so hard to not get distracted by her everything, because I wanna seem firm and annoyed by the fact that she’s up and serving tables despite the beating she took yesterday. 

She’s sporting a few bandaids to cover up the bruises, but it’s barely working. 

“You should be resting”, I angrily mutter while crossing my arms, she immediately drops her smile.

“Saturday’s are the busiest day, and I skipped work yesterday”, as if that justifies anything, “I couldn’t leave Mrs. O alone”. 

“And your useless coworker?”

She squirms a little, visibly uncomfortable at the question.

“He has trouble waking up sometimes…” she mutters while glancing at the door, frowning. 

“You should complain to your boss, he’s a slacker”, I play with my chopsticks just so I can keep my hands busy. Akane dejectedly sighs. 

“He has a lot of studying to do.”

“I bet he went out to a party last night.”

“He wouldn’t!”, she glares at me, her face shutting down. No more niceness for me I guess. 

I’m about to tell her that she’s clearly blind, when the guy in question waltzes in, as fresh and cool as a cucumber. I look at the clock, it’s past one in the afternoon. 

“Good morning”, he says. The bustle of the place means no one is paying him any attention, but I turn around to face him. Perhaps after yesterday’s “warm” welcome he thought I wouldn’t come back. Boy was he wrong. 

The dickhead realizes I’m there and frowns, but after he notices Akane he goes pale. 

“What the hell happened to you?!” he makes a beeline towards her and grabs her by the chin, getting up close to her face, too close if you ask me. 

I snap the chopsticks in half, while Akane just stands there, all blushy and stuff. She blurts out some lies and apologizes, heading off to some table to get their order. 

And that stupid idiot is still standing there, frozen in place, with his hand up like he’s still holding on to her face. He looks pissed. He turns to me. He looks even more pissed off when he realizes I’m also beaten up. I guess he can put two and two together. I smirk back, although all I want to do is break him in half. 

“You…” he sounds so distrustful “did you have something to do with this??”

I raise my brow, and turn my back on him, hell will freeze before I give him any explanations. I hear him huff, then stomp off into the staff room, slamming the door, creating an awkward silence in the restaurant. 

I don’t know if this counts as a victory, but I feel great. 

Akane comes by later, and places the daily special in front of me. I didn’t even order. It has extra meat and rice, plus a bowl of veal and eggplant. 

“It’s to thank you for…well…everything”, she babbles, still giddy I guess, over dickhead’s arrival. Seeing her flushed cheeks under all the band-aids feels like a kick in the gut. I hide the broken chopsticks and grab a new pair. She continues, “this is on me today”. 

“You don’t have to”, I try to sound as cool and chill as possible, but I’m not sure I achieved it. 

“We are still on for tomorrow, right?”, she whispers while I stir my ramen. 

“You should get off early tonight, tomorrow is gonna be rough.”

She nods seriously,  like a good student, standing straight,  in perfect posture. How come I didn’t realize it before? She clearly has mastery over her body. She goes back to work, although with a slight limp, the only tell she is giving, that she must be sore all over. 

I finish my meal, grateful. I know she said this was on her, but I still leave the money on the counter, and give a nod as I walk away. She waves her hand at me, showing a tiny smile, maybe she’s no longer upset at me. 

I wonder if it’s because her stupid coworker has gifted her with a few crumbs of attention. 

.

..

…

The wound on my side stings. I get home and immediately change the bandages. Then some grocery shopping, replenishing the medicine drawer, and get dinner started.

I also spend some time counting last night winnings. Not bad, way more than in the last six months. Clearly the fight against Mousse garnered a lot of attention. With this we’ll have enough to cover rent for a couple of months, and even some for the savings fund. I neatly stack the bills when there’s knocking at the door. 

Ryu has keys, and I can’t think of anyone that’d be coming around this time. Maybe one of his ex-girlfriends? I hope not, I’m not in the mood to listen to anyone crying over him. 

I open the door, and surprisingly, find my mother on the other side. I blink, incredulous, and she beams at me.

“Ranma” You’re home!”, she exclaims, like she is surprised that I’m here, and not the other way around. 

“Mom? Where have you been?”

“Oh, let me tell you all about it!”, she says as she starts snooping about, sniffing the rice maker, brushing the furniture with her fingers, as if checking for dust. Poking and prodding about. She looks at me, proud “I raised you well”, she boasts. I frown and keep quiet, because I don’t feel like starting a useless argument right now. 

“What’s going on?” It may sound like a question, but I just know something is up. She’s too happy and friendly. I know her too well. I would love to say she is a sensible woman, but she married my father, and they are both cut from the same cloth. 

“Where is Ryu? I’d love to see him.”

“I don’t know, I guess training or maybe out partying, it’s Saturday”, I reply, shrugging my shoulders, she pouts but it doesn’t last longer than two seconds. She brings her palms together, gently, and smiles, knowing she can get anything from me. 

“Ranma dear, I need four hundred thousand yen”.

And there it is. I knew it was coming but it still hurts. 

“That much?” -I wince, a little taken aback. 

“You know I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important”, she carries on, begging me with her eyes, “I’ll pay you back. It will work out this time, I promise, it’s an amazing business opportunity!!”. 

Amazing  business opportunity, those are my mother’s favorite words. She grew up wealthy, with a father whose fortune (questionably generated during the last war) dwindled down through a series of terrible business decisions. I’m guessing it runs in the family, they don’t really work, they invest. Badly. 

And making terrible choices is clearly written in their DNA. That does not bode well for my future.

I sigh in disbelief. 

“And the two hundred thousand from last time?”, bitterness slowly creeping up my throat. 

“Oh well. I’ve had some issues, nothing to worry about. I’ll also pay that money back, when this business gets going”. 

I’m highly suspicious that “the business” doesn’t exist, it’s actually traveling, friends, drinks and lovers. But I can’t bring myself to say anything. I hate seeing her sad, and it’s not like I’m making all this money in a legitimate way. 

My mother has never been an example to anyone, but at least she didn’t abandon us, which is far more than my father ever did. 

I walk up to the gym bag, left open, in my bedroom. I leave pretty much all of yesterday’s winnings in it, taking out a few thousand yen for basic necessities. I go back to her and hand her the bag.

“Thank you so much, I will definitely pay you back”, hurriedly placing the gym bag onto her shoulder, it clashes completely with her fancy traditional kimono, stitched with golden thread. 

“Sure, whenever you can. Thanks for dropping by mom”, I smile, but it doesn’t reach my eyes. 

The woman that brought me into this world, hugs me tight, runs her delicate hands over my face, hands that have never worked a day in their life. She smiles at me, the warmest smile. 

“You have grown into a fine young man, I am so proud”. She walks out, never looking back. 

.

..

…

I guess you could say, I live a decent life. I’m comfortable enough, and I’m happy…enough. I do what I love, I train and fight against the best in all of Asia. Underground, I’m kind of a celebrity. I even have money saved in the bank. 

And yet, none of it makes me proud. Not really. 

When Ryu and I finally paid off the huge debt my father owed Tarô I thought I would finally be free, that I’d finally start my life. An honest life, away from the muck, the grittiness of the underbelly of society. But turns out, I was a victim of my own doing, and went back to the pit, to the so-called “easy money”. Back to the place where I punch and bleed. 

I run, before even the sun comes up, to the place we are to meet. I know I can’t convince her to change her mind, but I can at least try to protect her. That, that would finally be something to be proud of. 

The closer my run brings me to her door, the faster my heart beats, the more my stomach flutters, just thinking about seeing her again. The anticipation is so overpowering, it makes all my problems fade away. 

It erases the argument I had with Ryu last night, when I had to explain why we no longer had any money and why we would have to fight sooner than expected. It also chases away the anger, that free falling sensation I get whenever I think about the future. 

Her shining presence overwhelms my world, and I cling to it with everything in my soul. 

Akane is right on time, standing by the outer wall of her lodger house. I stop, wiping the sweat away with the small towel I carry above my shoulders. 

“Ready?” I ask, and she nods seriously, and even bows like a student would for a respected teacher.

“Yes, sensei”, that statement alone makes my good mood soar. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been addressed that politely, my ego is reinvigorated. I tell her to keep up with me, we start running. She’s fast, and has a good stride. I go a little faster, I wanna see how long she can keep up with my pace, and she pulls it off, stronger than I thought. 

I keep upping the speed, jogging for another half an hour, and then I stop. She catches up to me a few seconds later, and stops while placing her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath. 

“Not bad”, I smile satisfied, but she looks like she’s about to collapse, clearly still standing out of sheer pride. 

The place we’ve come to is a local gym I have access to, well equipped and completely empty. She follows me inside, while I turn on the lights and wipe more sweat off of me, she goes off on her own, checking the place out.

“What is this place?”, she asks while eyeing the gym benches, the weights, the treadmills and the large tatami. 

“A front for money laundering”, I answer truthfully. “Tarô has a few of these places around town. Supposedly they are a business, but honestly, they are mostly used by us, his fighters”.

“You train here then?” she walks up to a punching bag, while I unzip and drop my jacket on the ground. 

“Sometimes.”

“That’s amazing…”, she laughs when the punching bag barely moves after she hits it. 

“If you are going to use that, protect your hands first”, I suggest while holding the punching bag in place. 

“Is that how we start? Punching a bag?”

I shake my head, and point to the tatami.

“I wanna know everything, show me the style and technique of your school, and basic kata forms as well.”

She winces, and nods. She takes off the sweatshirt she was wearing while we were jogging. I almost choke when I realize her t-shirt shows off her toned arms, her arched back. Her leggings show off her strong legs to perfection. I go sit by the side of the tatami, trying to appear as professional as possible. She begins. 

I see her flow from form to form, engrossed. She’s serene, collected, executing kata after kata, just like I asked. She slides one of her feet, holds up her knee, turns and punches with her elbow, immediately followed by a kick and fist punch. Bringing her hand back, turns it, and releases it again.

It’s a private showcase, just for me. She’s dancing before me, a one of a kind viewing only for me. She remains concentrated, while sweat droplets slide down her temples, forming a trail down her t-shirt. Her hair, in a braid tied with a bright scrunchie, swings in beat to her movements.

She turns, punches, holds and maintains basic position. Over and over again, doing a spirited shout after performing each punch, clearly the result of a lifetime of studying and training. 

She finishes, I can’t help but nod in approval while I stand up.

“Do you practice every day?”

“Everytime I have the chance.”

“Where do you train?”

“In my room, or in the park before sunrise or after sunset.”

Credit where credit’s due, I walk a lap around her, thinking. 

“Who taught you?”

“My father.”

There’s a familiar story.

“School?”

“Musabetsu kakuto-ryu”, she answers steady, standing firm like a true soldier. 

The school name rings a bell, sounds familiar enough. I let it reach the edges of my memory. Yeah, I could swear I’ve heard the name before. 

While appraising her, I throw a sucker punch, and sweep my leg under her feet, making her fall butt first into the tatami. I try to hide my laughter, especially when she glowers at me. 

“Your feet were in the wrong position.”

“No, that’s not it at all. You caught me off guard.”

“If your feet were properly placed, I couldn’t have made you fall down”, I answer as arrogantly as I can, knowing that it makes her mad, which is just what she needs. 

She needs to get angry enough to lose control, and hit me for real. 

“I know perfectly well how to maintain a hold position”, she protests while rising to her feet, and getting into the hold stance again. I smile, as condescending as I can. 

“You took a lot of unnecessary hits in the pit, you lack training in actual combat.”

“Not like I can fight the noodle bowls…”, she replies, sarcasm dripping. I can tell she’s starting to get angry, the tension rising slowly up her fists. 

“Your first match, you won it out of pure spite, forgetting your technique, leaving aside your muscle memory…”, I shake my head, “like I said, that’s weak.” 

The reaction I was looking for comes swiftly. Akane tenses up, and throws a punch straight to my chest, I dodge it easily, stepping aside, smiling while she keeps attacking. She tries to land a hit with a chain attack of high and low kicks, I just jump around, having a great time, while her expression becomes more and more frustrated. She tries to hit me with her elbow, followed by a knee kick and another punch. She’s wheezing while I whistle. You can feel the passion for the art. 

“You’ll have to become faster if you want to catch me, do you only do weight training?”

And that seems to set her off because she charges again, jumps and tries to grab at me. I let her, I want to know how her punch will land, how it will feel. She’s short, and she uses her height to her advantage, to destabilize a tall rival like myself, and she knows how to counter the weight difference between us, throwing me to the ground. I laugh while I take it, and she grabs me by my tank top, exhausted but still holding her fist up, I guess she’s trying to appear threatening.  

“I’m not weak!”, she explodes, with her reddened cheeks and dilated pupils. 

“Fine, fine”, I rise my hands palms up, as a sign of peace, enjoying this far more than I should. “You know a few tricks but…”

I grab her raised fist, my other hand cradling her head, and raise my knee in order to flip us over, my body on top of hers, almost as if she was at my mercy. She thrashes and I let her go, she gets feisty when she’s angry, and I realize, I may be into that. 

“You’ll be fighting other women, they are lighter and faster. You have to adapt”, I sit back on the tatami, she’s eyeing me warily, breathing quickly, “we’ll start from there.”

Two hours later, Akane keeps hitting the Wing Chun over and over again, almost obsessively so. I keep telling her to take a break, but after being on the receiving end of her withering glare, I’ve let it go. I think she’s still mad about her defeat…or maybe the not-so-nice words I said. 

Better get started on my own workout. Starting with weight training, and then a series of push-ups. While stretching, I look over at her again, she’s sweating a ton, flipping her hair back with heavy neck shakes. 

“Enough for today, start some stretching exercises, ten minutes.”

“I’m fine”, she bites back, adamant. 

“That’s an order from your sensei, you are not going to get faster in a day.” She grumbles but finally agrees, dropping down onto the ground, worn out. “Rationing strength in a fight is also a strategy, you drain yourself using explosive moves only”. 

Akane wheezes, and a thousand questions pop into my mind about her. I need to satisfy my curiosity. 

“So anyways, why do you need so much money? Three million yen is plenty, it should be more than enough to cover your expenses”, I hand her a water bottle, as a peace offering, crouching down next to her. She takes it, knocking back half the bottle in one go. 

“I’m saving up”, she answers while drying the leftover water from her chin, in a gesture I delight myself in. 

“Saving up for what?”

“A house.”

My eyebrows shoot up. That requires a lot of money. 

“Can’t you ask for a loan?”

“No bank is gonna lend money to a girl like me.”

“A girl like you?”

“A waitress, single, young, uneducated…”, she lists off her reasons, like she knows them by heart, like those things defined her as a person of no interest in the world we live in. I get it, get her, far too well. 

“And your family can’t help?”, I ask again, she shakes her head.

“My sisters don’t want to know anything about this, they’ve moved on, hoping I would as well.”

I frown, not quite following her answer. She sighs and takes another long sip of the bottle before continuing.

“My mother passed away, my father became a gambling addict. He would lose all the money we earned teaching classes at the dojô, then he just started selling everything we owned: his things, our things, my mother’s things…the debt kept growing, and he never stopped gambling.”

I unknowingly get closer to her, hypnotized by her jarring words, for how easily she speaks of hell. 

“Finally, they seized the house,” she plays with the half empty bottle, every word seemingly draining her of her toughness, her ferocity, “some guy bought our debt and I…I went to talk to him. He promised he wouldn’t sell the house, and that it would be mine, if I could pay what my father owed him.”

“How…how much money is it?” I ask, feeling a lump in my throat, she drops her shoulders almost to the ground. 

“One hundred fifty seven million yen.”

I must have misheard. 

“One hundred…?”

“One hundred fifty seven million yen”, she replies mechanically, like the number is engraved in her head. “Three million doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

I shut up, I’m struck to the point that I don’t even know what to say. If I thought for a minute I could get her to give up before her next fight, I realize now, that’s never gonna happen. 

“I’ve been saving since I was seventeen, and lived alone since then too.”

“But you have sisters. Why don’t you live with them?”

“My oldest sister got married, and I didn’t want to impose. The middle one went to school in Hokkaido, a business school. She got a scholarship and a job. She’s still in university, and has a lot going on. They don’t want to know anything about the dojô, or our father. I’m the only one that remains.”

She looks like she’s about to cry, if she keeps talking about this. I can’t say I don’t get it, we have a lot in common, dragged into an uncertain future by irresponsible parents. Problems keep coming, and she is stubbornly holding on to her past. 

“The dojô, it’s that old dojô down by the waterway right?”, she looks up, kind of like coming out of a trance. She stops staring at her hands, and I see unspilled tears in her eyes. 

“Yeah, it’s the dojô Tendo”, she nods. So that  was the huge house she was mournfully staring at that day. All the pieces slot into place. 

“Do you have to pay it back all at once? Maybe you can reason with the guy, and come up with a payment plan…”, but she immediately shakes her head, a definitive no.

“No, Kuno won’t negotiate. He knows exactly what he wants”, she states, with a note of bitterness behind it. Not just bitterness, also hidden rage. 

Time to put this conversation off for another time, but at least, Akane’s breathing has returned to normal. I ask her to stretch, then to follow up with a few explosive force moves. By the time we leave the gym it’s early afternoon, and I’m starving. 

She walks like she has the weight of the whole world on her shoulders. Right now, more than money, I think she needs a friend. I walk her all the way to the bathhouse, where the old lady that works there seems to remember me too. Coming out, after her bath, she looks more relaxed, her hair still slightly damp, styled with a few brightly colored bobby pins and barrettes, and her shiny scrunchie too. 

“Wanna grab a bite to eat?” seems silly to ask since I’m pretty sure I know the answer. She looks so down, that if she goes out by herself, she might spend the rest of the afternoon wrapped up in her futon, depressed. 

“You don’t have to keep feeding me”, answering with a tired smile, probably remembering the other night. 

“It’s a reward for training well today. Not ramen though, kinda tired of it, let’s get some meat.”

.

..

…

Fifteen minutes later, I see the tiny girl sitting in front of me eat, at first with some apprehension, but after, with a voracious appetite. I did think she was a little too skinny, but I’m beginning to think she’s actually starving. Like literally starving, she’s not feeding herself enough.  

If she owes that much money, she clearly saves every cent, but saving up by not buying food is too much. I scowl, while indicating to the waitress to bring another bowl of meat. 

“Slow down or you’ll choke”, she looks up and swallows, the way she blushes is adorable. I think manners and eating politely are not a priority right now, even though she clearly has them.

“I haven’t had meat in a while…”, sheepish, she says as an excuse for her eating display, while starting on her rice bowl.

“Yeah, I’m beginning to think you don’t eat at all…”, and she doesn’t deny it! Doesn’t deny it!! “Do you seriously not eat?! You do know you need PROTEIN right?!”, I snap, while adding more meat pieces to the grill. This damn girl doesn’t know how to take care of herself!!.

“I eat”, she scoffs, “Mrs. O gives me food.”

“Well, as part of your new training regime, you are ordered to eat well. It’s basic survival skills!”

“I know that, I’m not a child”, cheeks full, she retorts. 

I sigh while the meat sizzles on the grill. Nobody made me do this. This is completely on me. 

“When do you plan to fight again?”

“As soon as I can, next Friday”, she answers while swiping one of the meat pieces from the grill. 

“No, it’s too soon”. 

She broodily looks at me, “it’s five days away.”

“Even your bruising won’t be gone in five days, and your knee is still damaged. You have to be at one hundred percent capacity if you want to go up against more experienced fighters.”

“I told you I need the money”, she retorts, and I’m pretty sure she’s about to tell me again to mind my own business, that who am I to speak for her. But I can’t back down on this. 

“If you get beaten up two weeks in a row, it will take you even longer to recover before you can go back to the pit.”

“You seem to know everything.”

“I’ve been fighting the last ten years”, I blurt out, upset, and that gets her attention. I see her eyes open wide, unknowingly leaning towards me, eager to know more.

“My father worked once in a while for Tarô’s father, who I’m sure you can tell, belongs to one of the branches of the yakuza. He owns half of the businesses out west, and who knows what else. Apparently, my father abused the trust they had in him, and stole millions, then fled the country. My mother had no way to pay back, so Ryu and I inherited his debt. He made us fight in the pit to pay him back, with interest. After settling the debt we simply…stayed. It was all we knew, and we love to fight so we…” my mouth goes dry all of a sudden. I don’t know how to go on with this lame excuse. 

I see her process my story, seeing how similar it is to hers, and I see pain in her eyes, actual genuine compassion for me. 

“How old were you?”, she breathes. I grit my teeth remembering the sheer terror of that first time.

“Fifteen.”

A silence falls between us, only interrupted by the sounds of the meat on the grill, and the voices of the tables around us. Akane clears her throat, grabs some pieces of meat and places them on my bowl, trying to lighten the mood, make up for the bad memories. 

“Fine, I won’t fight on Friday”, more agreeable than before, her cheeks a little flushed, making me feel slightly self-conscious. “When are you fighting again then?

Not that I could hide it, but mainly, I don’t want to lie. 

“Next Friday”, I answer resigned, she frowns, confused.

“But you just said…”

“I know what I said, but something came up.”

“Then I should be able to fight too!”

“No, just watch and learn. We will train hard this week, don’t be so impatient and reckless.”

She’s halfway up her seat, going back down reluctantly. 

“I have to open up at the restaurant tomorrow”, she mumbles while playing with the remaining rice in her bowl. I purse my lips. 

“Get that bum of a coworker of yours to do it for you. We can train early tomorrow.”

“Shinnosuke can’t make it…”

“Then tell your boss about it!”, I retort, stuffing the last of the offered meat pieces in my mouth. She scowls at me.

“I would never do that to a coworker”, she haughtily declares. 

“He’s taking advantage of you.”

“No he isn’t!”

“Yes he is! You just can’t see it because you have a massive crush on the guy!” there I go, my mouth running off, but I’m so frustrated it’s beyond me. Her cheeks go flaming red, she stammers while dodging my eyes.

“I don’t…”, she starts, then stops. She bites her lower lip, I can tell she’s trying not to look so obvious about it. 

“It doesn’t matter”, I grumble. 

Just to give myself something to do, I stuff some more meat pieces in my mouth. They taste like cardboard. 

Akane continues eating too, in absolute silence. She’s still blushing furiously. I may not be the best company right now. 

“I don’t have your number”, she says after a while, and I blink, feeling my stupid heart pounding out of my chest. “I’ll need it if we are going to be training together.”

“Y-yeah, sure”, I try to sound as natural and nonchalant as possible, digging through my pockets for my phone. She looks at it with polite interest, it’s a beaten up old thing, with a cracked screen, and busted borders.

Her’s isn’t new either, but it’s in better condition than mine. It even has a couple of phone charms. A panda bear and a cute black piglet. 

I see her smile grow bit by bit, dying to ask me the obvious question. 

“I only use it so Ryu can text me the grocery shopping list”, and yes, that is very much true. The poor phone has seen better days, but it’s not like I’m a social butterfly. My social circle is pretty much non-existent, outside of the ring of street fighters. 

“Well, now you’ll have to take it out every once in a while”, she quips, taking it off my hands and typing in her number. She hands it back, and I look at the new contact on it.

“Akane”

I guess this means I can call her by her name, without formalities, and also, bug her with texts. This is not a victory, but a step in the right direction. I go for it immediately. 

[Ranma:

Training starts tomorrow at 7am sharp]

I smile while she looks at her phone and raises an eyebrow.

“But I told you I can’t-”

“Don’t argue with your sensei”, I gloat while adding more meat to the grill, “and eat up, you need muscle.”

She huffs, and all I think about, is how much fun I’m having. And not to sound too full of myself, but based on the half-smile she has while chewing on some of the meat, I’d swear she is too. 

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*And a huge thanks to our lifesaver Dani for doing such an amazing job translating this chapter!

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

Hi again! I really like this chapter for several reasons. The first is that, as always, I really enjoy Ranma’s POV, and in this chapter, we get to take an even closer look at who he really is. He’s a character dragged along by his parents’ decisions, a child without a childhood, someone who has lived deprived of so many things—sometimes even the most basic ones. The scene where Nodoka visits him made me feel so much pity and tenderness because, despite everything, he still loves his mother. In this fic, he’s a much more emotionally mature character.

As a contrast, there’s the scene with Ryoga—I always have way too much fun with those two! And I can’t wait to write many more fun scenes starring the clumsy police inspector.

I have so many people to thank for this chapter. First of all, my betas, who I’m giving WAY too much work to, and yet they still haven’t told me to go to hell (because I think deep down they love me). To Danny, for his amazing translation work that brings us closer to readers all over the world. I’m especially excited to greet the entire English-speaking fandom! Please keep reading and leave us your comments.

And of course, to Isa, whose art brightens and beautifies my words.

ILLUSTRATOR’S NOTE:

One of my favorite chapters. He knows what he wants, I love him. And here we get to learn more about Ranma’s life, Nodoka… aaah, that woman, what a pain. But to marry Genma, she couldn’t have been all that sane, right?

Unfortunately, because of work, I won’t be able to draw as much for the chapters anymore. But at the very least, I hope to highlight an important part of each chapter, like the beginning in this one. My respect to all the people who draw and edit WEBTOON!! I’m nowhere near making it like a webtoon, and it’s been tough. I hope you liked it 🙂

Don’t forget to leave us your comments and thoughts—that’s our only reward, and it keeps us motivated to keep creating.

Isa