Debt, love… Fight!

I have a recurring dream.

I’m a kid again, and I hear muffled crying. Reluctantly, I peek into a muddy alleyway, winding and perpendicular to a poorly paved avenue in a mountain village. I approach cautiously, following the sound, and hidden behind some trash cans, I find another kid, who looks very much like me. He’s crying very softly, so much so that it was strange to have heard him with all the noise from the avenue.

He’s drying his tears with the stained sleeve of an old sweater, and he has a nasty bump on his forehead. Blood trickles from his temple, and he makes no attempt to clean it. He’s alone, and it’s very cold here. I hold out my hand, and he looks at me suspiciously. He thinks about it for too long, so long that my hand begins to feel heavy, and when I threaten to give up, he clings to me desperately. His eyes look dark and glassy, matching his tortured face. He clings to me with the strength of life itself, as if I were the only person in the world who had ever offered him help. The feeling of well-being overwhelms me, fills me in a supernatural way, I feel enormous, invincible. For an instant, I am what I was always meant to be.

Only it was not a dream.

I let the memory caress me and leave me, grateful. It’s been a while since I’ve thought about it, and a sigh fills my chest completely, flooding me with joy as I hold her just a little and feel her small body against mine, all her warmth, her terrible exhaustion, her life throbbing in my arms.

There is no man in the world luckier than me. She is alive and she is with me, already that is too much.

I have few things clear in my life, but this is non-negotiable. I’m going to keep her, like the possessive madman I am. I’m going to keep her safe and protect her, with the fury of a dragon.

Her breathing is shallow, and she sighs softly from time to time, still with traces of dried tears on her cheeks. She stirs in my arms, and I give her a little space, taking advantage of the moment to stretch because I feel numb. Akane is still sleeping, and I could stay watching her all day, but I pick up my phone and check that it’s past nine. It’s way too late to go for a run, and I don’t want her to wake up and think I left without saying anything. I guess today is one of those days when skipping training is more than justified.

I need a shower and something to eat. I need the gnawing terror I’ve experienced these past few weeks to leave my system; I need to hold her until the world ends.

I sit up carefully so as not to wake her, and feel incredibly proud when I manage to get out of bed without disturbing her. I tiptoe out of the room and close the door behind me.

I walk towards the kitchen, where Ryu is finishing his breakfast. My brother looks up and gives me an amused smile.

“You didn’t sleep on the couch today,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

“Mmmmmhhh… nope,” I reply, fully aware that I must have it written all over my face, all the wonderful relief I feel after two weeks of gritting my teeth and banging my head against the walls in agony.

“Do you remember the day you knocked out Txao-Mao ‘The Beast’? And you paid off almost a fifth of our debt, and we went to that expensive sushi restaurant?”

“Yeah?” I ask reluctantly, not knowing where he’s going with this.

“You said it was the best day of your life,” he says, watching me with amusement. “And even then you didn’t have that goofy look on your face.”

I wasn’t aware that I can’t stop smiling; I bite my lower lip without caring in the slightest about looking dazed. It really feels like it’s the first day of something.

“Oh really?” I say evasively, opening the fridge and taking out half a dozen eggs. Akane needs protein to recover.

“I know you, little brother. You’re not one to let go; when you find someone abandoned, you keep them.”

Now it’s my turn to raise an eyebrow, blush, and clear my throat.

“I mean, maybe” I conclude, giving him an affectionate look that makes him shake his head.

I understand that this moment of brotherly love is a bit too intense for both of us, so Ryu decides to return to a more comfortable position: laughing at me.

“So… everything alright?”

“Alright?”

“Can the old man finally die in peace? Don’t get me wrong, I’d prefer him to die in agony, but I’d feel bad for your part in it.”

“S-shut up and mind your own business!” I almost yelled, terrified she’d hear my idiot brother airing my dirty laundry. “She has a broken arm, a ten-centimeter gash on her leg that nearly severed her femoral artery, and a concussion, you piece of trash!”

Ryu blinked, trying to feign an innocence he clearly didn’t possess. “The whole pit saw her kiss you, and I’d say it wasn’t the first time.”

“Stop being nosy,” I tell him again, my cheeks burning, trying to get the rice cooker going, but I only manage to hit it while my hands tremble.

“I don’t have to explain how a girl works, do I? They have a point where if you move your fingers right, they…”

“I refuse to have this conversation with you. Shut the hell up right now or I’ll shut it for you!”

“Fine, okay. But if you want some advice, I’d say start by focusing on exploring more than…”

He makes a rude gesture with his fingers, and that crosses all the lines I’m willing to tolerate.

“Ryu!!”

And he laughs, because he loves to embarrass me. And he keeps doing it while I grab his shirt and wind up a punch, fully intending to knock his teeth out.

“That girl is incredibly lucky to have you,” he says with a manipulative smile. Damn it, now I can’t hit him without feeling guilty.

I let out a frustrated groan and hiss at him like a cat on its back.

“Do you want to be helpful? Help me clear out the other room.”

“Why?”

“It’ll be Akane’s room.”

His eyebrows lower, and he stares at me, confused.

“Why does she want a room?”

”Because I want her to be comfortable.”

“She’s perfectly comfortable in your bed.”

“She needs space, and a wardrobe.”

“You two are going to look like roommates. It’s ridiculous. Besides, what do you expect me to do with my weight bench?”

“Just sell it already. You never use it.”

“I was planning to use it today.”

“No you weren’t!”

“You don’t understand women at all.”

“Understanding her is enough for me.”

Ryu’s mouth forms a straight line, matching his eyebrows.

“You’re going to die a virgin.”

“And you, an idiot.”

He sighs deeply and gives in. Forty minutes later, we have a good collection of boxes and useless junk piled up in the living room, and it’s incredible that with all the noise we’ve made, she’s still asleep. The room at the end of the hall has a small window and could use a coat of paint, but it fits a medium-sized bed and a two-door wardrobe.

When twelve o’clock strikes, I start to worry. Akane should at least wake up to eat and take her painkillers. Ryu raises his eyebrows at me in a pretentious gesture, and I tell him to get lost.

“I’m going to train. Make yourselves comfortable,” he croons as he leaves through the door, and I finish piling up the boxes and the damn weight bench and head to my room.

I open the door cautiously and find her fast asleep. It’s not like I want to interrupt what must be the longest time she’s ever spent in bed, but she’s been sleeping for fifteen hours and I’m starting to worry.

I approach expectantly and can’t help but sit on the edge and run my fingers over her serene face, with that bruised mark that’s beginning to fade to shades of green and yellow.

“Sleepyhead, you should eat,” I whisper, brushing the hair from her cheeks. She barely opens one eye and looks at me, propping herself up on her casted hand and stifling a groan.

“What time is it?” she asks sleepily and adorably, lost inside my oversized t-shirt.

“Well past noon. I made you breakfast, but that was more than three hours ago.”

“Oh, sorry. I slept great,” she says, blushing, or at least that’s how it seems to me in the dim light of my room.

“Eat something, get comfortable, and go back to sleep.”

“For a moment I thought I’d dreamt it all,” she says with a sigh. “The fight, my injuries, my dojo… And you.”

My heart races in a split second, because when she says “you” she looks me in the eyes with a questioning expression.

“You need painkillers, and if you want, you can freshen up. I’m afraid your room will take a few more days to be ready, but if you’re feeling well, we could go and see some furniture before dinner.”

“I should pay you for everything you’re doing for me. It’s too much, it always has been too much.”

“I don’t want your money,” I reply; even the suggestion of it puts me in a bad mood.

“I have twenty million yen,” she says, after which I can only remain utterly silent.

“What?”

“Twenty million yen, and now I don’t even know what to do with it.”

“You managed to save twenty million all by yourself?” I ask, my eyes wide, trying to mentally contort myself to figure out how carefully she must have saved every single one of those yen.

She sits up in bed with a certain pride, and I shake my head, smiling.

“You never cease to surprise me, Akane Tendô,” I say, getting up and offering her a hand, which she takes without hesitation.

She gets out of bed, her divine legs covered with dressings, plasters, and a thick bandage across her thigh. I don’t hide as I stare at her, and she doesn’t seem intimidated when I finally look up to meet her gaze.

I feel like she’s beyond my control, that no matter how hard I try, she pulls at my stomach until I fall at her feet.

“Can I borrow a towel?” she asks, running her fingers through the strand of hair I tucked behind her ear a moment ago.

“Do you… need some help?” I ask, feeling my own mouth betray me and reveal my deepest desires.

Akane seems amused but shakes her head, that lovely little tuft of hair fluttering across her cheeks.

“Maybe later,” she says, and I hurry to find her a towel and help her put her things away in the bathroom. And yes, that vanilla-scented soap is there, just as I always suspected.

She takes more than an hour, and when she returns, I’ve defrosted some of the enormous pile of food I prepared weeks ago: a curry stew with lots of chicken—protein is good for rebuilding bones and muscles.

I feel quite proud of myself, because even in my worst moments, I manage to be useful.

“You should eat,” she says as she appears in the doorway, wearing the same t-shirt she used as pajamas, her hair still damp.

If she’s going to dress like this all the time, I’m going to need to go for a run to clear my head, even if it’s in the middle of the night.

“Now I really need your help,” she says, pointing to her leg, her wound exposed after she removed the bandages for the shower. I’m speechless at the sight of that marbled skin crisscrossed with a trail of tightly packed surgical staples.

And I feel like if I ever see Shampoo again, I’ll beat her until my hands bleed.

I rush over and, without her permission, I sweep her up and carry her back to my bed. She gasps in surprise but doesn’t complain. I lay her on the mattress and rummage through the first-aid kit she put in the closet. When I return to her, I find her laughing for the first time in ages.

It’s as if the sun has risen again in my world.

“You didn’t have to do that” she says, her lips curling into a smile.

“I absolutely did” I reply seriously as I apply antiseptic to gauze and begin to carefully clean the wound.

Akane flinches.

“Does it hurt?”

“N-no, it’s just that…” She pauses for a moment. “You make me nervous.”

Oh. OH.

I swallow hard as I focus on my work. The wound looks good; I cover it carefully and bandage it firmly, and in the process, I place my hand on her leg, on the tender skin of her inner thigh, and she twitches again. It’s very sensitive. It’s giving me a feeling of freefall, so I remove my hand and stand up after efficiently finishing my work.

“Now let’s eat,” I order, and she obeys, not without giving me a rather indiscreet look.

Akane finishes everything and is very surprised to learn that I prepared it. I don’t mean to brag, but obviously, I’m an amazing cook.

I smile as I wash the dishes, and she stays beside me, complaining about not being able to do anything.

“Go to sleep,” I tell her as I finish cleaning the kitchen.

“I’m not sleepy. You can’t expect me to stay in bed all day like an invalid. Maybe we could go train…” she suggests, and I look at her, horrified.

“No exercise until your wounds have healed.”

“And what are we supposed to do here all day? What do people do when they can’t work?”

“You can’t sit still, can you?”

She shakes her head vehemently.

“I have no idea how to do that.”

I smile, because it’s very obvious she’s feeling better. Sadness lingers in her expression though, and I absolutely don’t want to bring up the subject of that damn dojô, but deep down… Deep down, it’s a relief, even though Akane is too hurt to understand it right now.

“So… wanna go out?”

.

..

…

Akane is wearing one of my sweatshirts. It’s not that she doesn’t have any clothes, it’s just that the sleeves of her jackets are too tight for her cast. So she has appropriated my wardrobe, and I love it. The sweatshirt hangs below her waist, and she’s slipped on some leggings so her leg wound doesn’t bother her.

The outfit makes her look smaller than she is. She’s also put on some cheap sunglasses to hide the bruises on her face. I don’t know if she looks funny and/or adorable. In any case, I walk beside her down the shopping street while passersby give us suspicious glances.

“If you’re tired…” I suggest, leaning in slightly to speak to her. Akane shakes her head emphatically.

“I’m not.”

She walks briskly despite having only been out of the hospital for a day. She’s unstoppable, irrepressible. She’s so darn stubborn.

We stop at a discount furniture store, and Akane doesn’t hesitate to ask for a large wardrobe and a bed with a wide, comfortable mattress. To my surprise, she manages to haggle with the salesperson for a discount of almost thirty percent. She leaves the store proud of herself, and I approach, ready to break my impressed silence.

“You have twenty million saved up; paying fifteen thousand yen more wouldn’t have killed you,” I say with a slight smile, and she looks at me through her two-hundred-yen sunglasses, chin held high.

“I don’t like wasting money. My sister Nabiki always says the best price is the fairest price, and I think those pieces of furniture were a little worn at the corners.”

“Is she the one who taught you how to haggle?”

Akane’s mouth twists, but she’s not fooling me; she’s about to smile. Her other sister is a complete mystery to me. All I know is that she lives in the north of the country and is trying to build an empire far from her family’s debts.

We walk down the shopping street, and I stop at a creperie stand. Akane looks at me as if to say, “Are you seriously still hungry?” I shrug and order a large strawberry and cream crepê.

“That’s a waste of money,” she dares to say with a completely feigned moral superiority. I take a huge bite as we continue walking.

“Then I’m not letting you have a single bite, no matter how much you beg,” I reply with my mouth full.

She seems uninterested, but I think I know her well enough to know how to pique her curiosity. I take another bite and can’t help but make a sound of deep satisfaction. She turns away immediately, and I smile at her.

“Now do you want a bite? I’m warning you, it has a price.”

“Um, well, I do have money.”

I offer her the crepê, and she leans closer, pushes up her glasses, and takes a bite from the part I haven’t bitten yet. She chews while her eyes widen as she feels the sugar on her tongue, discreetly brushing away the remaining cream with the fingers of her one usable hand.

She’s so absurdly beautiful that I just want to scream.

“Now I get it,” she says, oblivious to the fact that I’m trying to get my soul back into my body. “That’s why they’re so popular with girls.”

“The crepes…you mean?” I ask, and she nods.

“I’m sure Akari likes them,” she continues thoughtfully, heading off the main street, and I follow her. I catch up in less than two seconds; I need to do this before common sense takes over again or I lose my nerve.

“Hey, you haven’t paid,” I declare, and she turns around, her eyes meeting mine, her eyebrows tilted above her sunglasses. She doesn’t get a chance to ask any questions, because just as she’s about to open her mouth, I do something absurd and daring: I lean over her ear as if I want to whisper a secret, but instead, I give that tender, exposed earlobe a small nibble.

Akane lets out a shriek, and several passersby turn to look at us, but I’ve already moved away, quick and innocent. She puts her hand to her ear and trembles in embarrassment. She looks at me as if she truly can’t believe what I just did. Maybe I can’t believe it either.

“Ranma!” she exclaims, her skin burning with excitement, and I smile and take the lead down the street, whistling as if I hadn’t just bitten her.

I hear her angry footsteps chasing me.

“You can’t do that!” —She gasps, speaking in whispers, glancing around. I raise an eyebrow, magnanimous.

“One bite for another.”

“I’m not a crepê.”

“You taste like one.”

And that seems to leave her speechless, because she opens and closes her mouth several times before surrendering, without another word. I guess that’s 1-0 in my favor.

Before I know it, we’re standing in front of the familiar restaurant, and I can’t help but look at her suspiciously.

“Why are wehere?” I ask, sharpening my words, and she, still blushing, can only shift her feet uncomfortably.

“I’m worried,” she admits. I sigh and roll my eyes, opening the door for her like a true gentleman, and Akane smiles gratefully.

The place is packed. Akane moves between the tables like a fish in water and greets her friend effusively, who seems more than busy.

I frown because, honestly, I don’t really know that girl, but maybe I should thank her. She’s been supporting Akane ever since they met, just a few weeks ago. I go sit in my usual spot at the bar when the door opens again, and I see another one of my headaches appear.

That fucking police inspector, that idiot Ryoga Hibiki, can get lost walking down a single street, but has no trouble finding this restaurant. He sits down next to me and stares at me as if he’s the one who’s annoyed to find me here.

“Isn’t it getting a little late for lunch, Hibiki?” I ask, checking my watch. He looks at me, his gaze sharpening.

“I work twenty-four-hour shifts, Saotome. Besides, Akari said Akane wasn’t feeling well, and I just wanted to…” He looks up just in time to see Akane, and then he freezes, his eyes wide.

I overlook the fact that he takes the liberty of using the two women’s first names, without any formality. The inspector swallows hard and, without a word, stands up and walks straight toward them.

I can still tell something’s wrong. Ryoga stops in front of the girls; they stop talking and immediately look at him.

“Inspector! Welcome,” Akari smiles warmly at him, and he nods, but his eyes are fixed on Akane and her sunglasses, on her arm in a cast.

“Akane, are you hurt?” he asks, clearly worried, and she looks at me for a moment before giving me a reassuring smile.

“It’s nothing, I just tripped,” she apologizes.

“I see.”

Hibiki turns to me, and I feel the tension rising in her shoulders, her gaze turning steely.

“Saotome, can we speak outside?”

I nod uneasily. Hibiki is an idiot, and he doesn’t scare me at all, but there’s something about his expression that fills me with cold apprehension. He walks several meters until we’re far enough from the restaurant, secluded on a small, deserted street. He turns to me with the worst look he’s ever given me.

“How did Akane get those injuries?”

“She already told you, she had an accident,” I reply, but I’m not so stupid as to not notice his rigid posture, his clenched fists.

“Perhaps you’re overlooking an important detail, Saotome: I’m a police officer, and that means I’m quite used to seeing the kind of accidents that happen to good girls when they have violent friends.”

It’s as if he’s just thrown a pitcher of ice water on me; my stomach lurches, and a sudden wave of dizziness washes over me. Indignation makes it nearly impossible to speak.

“You don’t mean…” I gasp, and in response, Ryoga tenses even more and reaches for his belt where his handcuffs are always hanging.

“I’m not implying anything, but you’re coming with me to the station to answer a few questions.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me, Ryoga! I’d cut my fucking hands off before I’d ever put them on her!”

“I didn’t think you were that kind of man either, but I’m used to being disappointed by people,” he concludes, pulling out the handcuffs and snapping them open. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. You decide, Saotome.”

Disbelief hits me like a slap in the face. Is this what it looks like? Is this what people saw when we walked together through the shopping mall? I’ve never felt uncomfortable in my own skin, never asked myself the kinds of questions that others might, about appearances or what others think of me. But now, as Ryoga puts the handcuffs on me (and I stab him with my eyes), I feel like I must have forgotten something important, something that directly concerns the person I’m trying to protect.

I’m a footnote on the social margins. I’m a martial artist with a seedy life, surviving on dirty money. I’m bad news.

And that’s not what she deserves. Realizing that makes me feel like a complete loser. A hypocrite for having had the nerve to tell her I was going to take care of her, that I would teach her how to live, when it’s clear I don’t have a clue either.

“Inspector Hibiki! What are you doing?!”

I look up to find that green-haired girl with Akane by her side, both of them speechless and scandalized.

Akane strides toward us and stares at my wrists, perplexed.

“What did you say to make him arrest you?” she shouts.

“Why the hell do you think I’m responsible for this?!”

“Don’t worry, Saotome and I are just going to talk,” Ryoga says, shoving me roughly, making me stumble. I feel ridiculous, especially as she stares at me with her questioning eyes.

“You can’t take him! Please, Ryoga, it must be a mistake” Akane says, stepping forward and blocking our path. A few people stop to watch the spectacle, and suddenly I really want to get to the police station so this can all be over.

“I’m just going to ask him a few questions,” he replies, but instead of smiling at her as he usually does, he looks at her seriously, furiously.

“About what?” she inquires again, the stubborn woman.

“About… about…” he stammers, and it’s that green-haired girl who frowns and seems to realize what’s going on.

“Do you think he caused her wounds?” she asks, getting it in one.

Akane lets out a cry of disbelief.

“No way! You don’t believe that, do you, Inspector?”

Hibiki’s idiot’s cheeks go pale, but he remains firm even though the two women surround him and block our way.

“That is exactly what he believes,” I reply, moving my wrists and making my new, shiny bracelets jingle.

“In any case, Saotome is coming with me.”

“No, absolutely not!” Akane raises her sunglasses and looks Hibiki straight in the eyes. “I did all this to myself. I got into a fight at the pit, and I lost!”

I feel the idiot gasp behind me. He releases me, leaving me handcuffed in the middle of the street, and walks over to her, stunned.

“Say that again,” he orders.

“I got into a fight at the pit. I did it willingly to get some money. Ranma has nothing to do with any of this.”

“Take me there,” he says, and she swallows hard and glances at me sideways.

“Only if you let him go.”

I groan in disbelief. She just told him everything, just like that. I just want to bang my head against the wall. Now this cop is going to be my worst nightmare. Ryoga takes off the handcuffs, and I glare at him, filled with resentment, while Akane puts her sunglasses back on.

“I’ll take you to the door, but I won’t go in.”

“Fine.”

“Does it have to be like right now? I’m in the middle of my shift, and if you just want to go there, I can take you,” Akari says nonchalantly. We all turn to look at her, and she puts her hands on her hips, brimming with impatience. “Are you guys done making a scene? Come eat already, Ryoga, your ramen’s getting cold,” she says before heading back to the restaurant. The inspector turns bright red, scratches the back of his neck, and laughs like an idiot. Then he suddenly looks at me, as if he’s just remembered I’m still here.

“I’m not done with you, Saotome. We have a lot to talk about.”

“I have nothing to do with that place anymore, and neither does Akane. But if you are gonna go, be careful and don’t go in there in your uniform, you moron.”

He raises an eyebrow and glances back at her discreetly, as if he’s having trouble processing the fact that she’s so badly injured, or that she’s a fighter too.

“Have you given up fighting?”

“I’m going to look for a job. I might even ask you for references.”

“I’d like to see that,” he says incredulously, shaking his head. “But I’m serious. I need information about that place. You could be my informant.”

“A snitch? No thanks.”

The inspector frowns.

“I get the impression something has changed. That maybe now something matters enough to you, for you to stop living on the edges of society.” He hands me his card, one that I’ve thrown away more than a dozen times. “Call me when you’re ready.”

I’m a little embarrassed to put it in my pocket, though I don’t rule out throwing it away as soon as I get home. Akane watches me silently and gives Hibiki a deep, grateful bow.

The inspector goes back to the restaurant, following Akari like a well-trained dog. He’s practically wagging his tail. What a pig. I sigh with relief as soon as she disappears from sight.

And then I meet her eyes. Akane takes off her glasses again, and I see the tears glistening in her eyes, that enormous bruise that doesn’t do justice to her beauty, her teeth clenched in frustration.

“It’s my fault,” she says, and again I feel like screaming. “I insisted on going out without taking my condition into account, when I obviously look like I’ve been beaten up. I can’t blame Inspector Hibiki for being concerned, but I can blame him for thinking so badly of you.”

“You’re not locked up, you can go out whenever you want. If anything, it’s my fault,” I confess. “I don’t seem like good company.”

“That’s not true! You’re… you’re much better than everyone thinks, even better than you think you are.”

Her words, her faith in me, take my breath away. Akane puts her glasses back on resolutely and takes a breath.

“Never speak about yourself like that again, I won’t let you” she says furiously, and starts walking down the street with a determined stride, and I follow her with a small, tight smile.

.

..

…

Despite all her stubbornness, I can see how tired she is. I convince her to take a taxi the rest of the way, and she agrees. She sighs when she finally sits down, and I think we’ve had enough adventures for today. Before going into the apartment, we buy some takeout, including some for Ryu.

“Eat your dinner and go to bed” I order her as we go into the kitchen. She nods as she stands up, trying to reach a glass of water. We’re going to have to rethink the organization of the cupboards. I do it for her, grab a glass, and fill it with water, and Akane smiles at me gratefully. I could get used to this very easily.

“Where were you?”, Ryu asks, appearing shirtless and earning a disapproving look from me. “Akane, I’m glad to see you all right… sort of.”

“Thanks, Ryu. Sorry for all the trouble and for letting me stay for a few days”  she says shyly, and I furrow my brow, slightly offended that I’m no longer monopolizing her attention.

“Hey, don’t apologize, you gave her a good beating, I’m very proud. They say she’s going to spend all the money she earned fixing the teeth you knocked out,” he says, pointing to his front teeth, which makes Akane’s mouth drop open in astonishment.

“I knocked out her teeth?!”

“Oh, I’ll say. You have a deadly right hook,” he smiles, patting her shoulder conspiratorially, and she has the decency to look embarrassed.

“Well, not right now.”

“You’ll recover.”

“She’s not going to fight there anymore,” I interrupt. “Now have dinner and go to bed.”

“Look at him, he’s turned into a grumpy dad… Or an overprotective boyfriend.”

“B-boyfriend?” she asks, and I feel my cheeks burn and I choke on my own saliva.

“Ryu, I told you to mind YOUR OWN business.”

“But messing with you is so much more fun.”

“I’m going… I’m going to the bathroom,” Akane says, running away from us, and I narrow my eyes at my brother, who’s rummaging through the takeout bags.

“Oh, you bought me dinner, thank youuuuuuu,” he croons.

“Watch what you say in front of her, you asshole!”

“You never appreciate anything I do for you: I cleared the whole entryway of boxes and sold my weight bench, and now I’m going to lock myself in my room and put earplugs in.”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“And I even left a box of condoms on your nightstand. Extra-thin,” he says, raising both eyebrows in a gesture full of intent.

“No you didn’t…” I stammer, paling.

“Oh, but of course I did.”

We turn around as we hear a small scream from my room, and I feel like I’m going to spontaneously combust. I put my hands to my face and try to take slow breaths and not strangle Ryu. I really try.

“You’re fucking dead!” I yell, and my brother runs to his room with his food, while I chase him down the hall.

He slams the door in my face, and I punch the wood, overcome with a mortification that eats away at me. I turn around in frustration, breathing fire, and when I retrace my steps, I stop in my bedroom doorway. She’s there, avoiding my gaze.

“Ryu’s an idiot,” I say, walking in shakily and seeing the damn box right where he said he’d left it. “He’s always playing pranks.”

“I’m hungry,” Akane says, leaving the room and giving me enough privacy to put it in the bedside table drawer, where I also put the card Hibiki gave me.

My hands are sweating, so I rub my palms against my pants and clear my throat while I try to reclaim some of my lost dignity.

Dinner passes peacefully. I get Akane a fork and spoon again, and I watch her move around with a certain clumsiness that only makes her more adorable. She puffs out her cheeks in frustration when she drops a piece of vegetable twice, then takes her painkillers and goes into the bathroom. She emerges wearing the same t-shirt I lent her yesterday, and I have no complaints, but a few questions.

I bite my lip and lock myself in the bathroom for a cold shower, but that doesn’t improve things much. I’m going to have to talk to her and go over some ground rules. But instead of my pajamas, I put on workout clothes and decide to go for a run, like a total coward.

“I’m going for a run, go to sleep, I’ll be back later,” I say, standing in front of my half-open bedroom door, and I hear her stirring in the sheets inside.

“Oh, okay…” she says in a thin, yearning voice, so much so that I have to restrain myself from going in there and sending everything to hell.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa, so don’t worry. Get some rest.”

And I leave the house with a deep sigh. I know I’m doing the right thing, and that’s enough, so I run through the streets like the devil himself is chasing me, and when I get back to the apartment, sweaty and exhausted, I jump straight into the shower while the knot in my chest tightens more and more.

The sofa is comfortable, and spending a few nights there won’t kill me… What will kill me is something very different. It’s past midnight, I’m dragging my feet wishing I could get some sleep when my bedroom door bursts open, and I look at her, startled, thinking something’s wrong when her face lifts, frowning at me.

“Akane?”

“Your bed is big,” she whispers in the darkness. “Two people can fit comfortably in it.”

I swallow hard, not wanting to admit that I’m absolutely terrified. This girl has no idea how much she has me under her spell, and that scares me in a way even I don’t understand.

“Were you upset when I asked you to sleep with me?”—she asks, looking down at her feet, and I feel like I’m going to explode.

“Of course not! It’s… damn it, Akane, I’m trying to control myself.”

She raises her eyes again; the bruise is no longer swollen, but she can’t help but still look like she’s about to break.

“What if I don’t want you to?”

Okay, my brain just melted, the pressure making my damn skull explode. She CAN’T be serious, my hands are shaking and my mouth is dry. I can’t get the words out and I must look like a complete idiot standing there, clueless about what the hell to do.

Akane grabs my hand and pulls me along, closing the door behind us, and leads me to the bed. By now I’m having an out-of-body experience, as she gets under the covers and I do the same, staring at her, restless and anxious. I’m not going to lay a hand on her when she’s only been out of the hospital for forty-eight hours, I’m not gonna…

My heart leaps into my throat when she does something so absurd and unheard of. She climbs on top of me and balances on her knees, her legs spread wide on either side of my body. I swallow hard, swallow again until my throat feels dry and full of thorns.

She’s only wearing that t-shirt, and I have an apocalyptic vision of her bare thighs and her angry face.

“Do I look fragile to you?” she asks.

“You’re hurt.”

“I’m fine.”

“That’s… debatable.”

I can’t take it anymore. I grab her thighs with both hands and, with a thrust of my hips, roll her across the bed until she’s beneath me. She cries out, I immediately stop when I realize my hand is on the wound on her thigh, and that the cast on her arm has twisted, making her clench her teeth.

I take a breath because she’s going to drive me crazy. I can’t believe what she’s making me do.

“Do you not own pajamas?” I ask, trying to sound composed.

“They’re old and ugly.”

“Well, buy yourself some new pajamas. You can’t walk around the house dressed like that,” I whisper in her ear as one of my hands moves up to her waist and the other digs into her ass. She gasps and squirms under my touch. I inhale the scent of her hair as I continue moving higher. I feel her ribs as her skin reveals itself to my advances, and then I see the bruises beneath my fingers. I stop with a guttural growl. “God dammit it, you look like hell.”

She looks at me, her breath ragged, her cheeks flushed, and all traces of anger gone, replaced by a warm, hazy anxiety.

“It doesn’t hurt.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” I say, pulling her shirt down again to cover her stomach, with a self-control that would make even Buddha himself proud. Maybe tonight I’ll ascend. “When I make you scream in this bed, I want to be sure I know why.”

Her eyes widen, and she falls silent and very still. Now she’s the one swallowing hard and nodding slowly.

“Okay, and now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to dive headfirst into the canal,” I gasp, freeing her wonderfully soft body from beneath me.

“Wait,” she says, holding me back, and I give her a fleeting, feverish glance. She’s still in her panties, practically naked in my bed. Right now, I don’t know if I’m the luckiest or unluckiest guy in the world. “What about…just kissing?”

And this is as far as my self-control goes. Someone say a prayer for my soul. I lunge at her, thirsty, and captured her lips with mine while I cup her face. Akane reaches for my neck, or at least tries to, with the heavy cast. I can’t believe I’m so easy for her, that I’m so simple. All it would take is a snap of her fingers, a long look, and a flirty blink to have me at her feet in a heartbeat.

I gently lay her down on the mattress, trying to get comfortable without pressing on her body, without hurting her, without squeezing her against me desperately, the way I really need to. My hands are in her hair, on her cheeks, and her tongue is in my mouth, panting and playing with mine. So curious and maddening. She moans loudly when I start kissing her neck, and I hope Ryu really did put in his damn earplugs.

My hands slide down to her waist as I continue kissing the delicate arch of her jaw, sucking on that white skin, making her writhe and cling to me anxiously, making me feel powerful, thirsty, unstoppable. I pull away, trying to catch my breath, to compose myself, and glance for a moment at the mark I’ve left, the trace of my lack of restraint. I run my fingers over her new bruise, small and telling.

“Just… kissing,” I repeat, suffocated by her perfume, by her fierceness. Akane’s eyes gleam as her lips close on my neck, and I feel the same thing I’ve inflicted on her: the pain, the pleasure as she marks me, and I grip the sheets beneath us, on either side of her body, swallowing a gasp, trying to calm myself until she finishes and surveys her handiwork. And then she kisses me again, and I feel like I’m losing myself, like I won’t be able to pull away from her no matter how hard I try, like I’m going to end up being exactly what I’ve vowed not to be: a fucking animal, a brute, a beast.

I stop with a broken, yearning gasp, looking at her, filled with desire. It burns in my veins, throbs in my temples. It makes me want to burn, to set us both ablaze.

“Now I’m really going to dive headfirst into the canal,” I say against her lips, and she smiles and takes me apart piece by piece. I don’t let go, I can’t, I’m absolutely glued to her body.

“We-ell, I suppose we could just sleep.”

“Please,” I beg, closing my eyes and trying to get every part of my body to cooperate in ending this torture.

“Ranma…” she says my name softly, and I understand that she wants to tell me something. I open my eyes and find her looking at me, direct and without doubt. “When you left, when you disappeared that week”, she swallows, “I thought I would die. I really thought I would die without you.”

“I’m here,” I reply, squeezing her just a little tighter, filled with incandescent emotion.

“Where did you go?”

“I went to the forest to stop thinking about you, and it didn’t help at all”, I smile pitifully. “You’ve taken over my mind. I was about to ask you to give it back. Living like this is torture.”

“You thought… about me?” she says softly, slowly caressing my lips with the fingers of her left hand.

“So much that I feel like I’m going crazy.”

“I think about you too,” she replies, a little embarrassed.

“Oh, really?” I smile, unable to help feeling flattered, purring at her caresses, her attention.

“So much so that…” She stops. “Never mind, let’s go to sleep.”

I raise an eyebrow, expectant.

“I want to know.”

“No, it’s private.”

“Fine, then. Keep all your private thoughts about me to yourself. But if you want to know something, the only one here who almost died is me; you almost killed me. I thought a thousand times that I would kill myself should anything happened to you.”

Akane looks at me with furrowed brows, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry.”

“I still have your shirt, soaked in your blood. Don’t expect me to easily get over seeing you beaten and on the verge of death. Rest up, eat well, sleep… Let me breathe, please.”

“I will, I promise.”

“Good, thank you. That’s a relief,” I sigh, feeling my muscles finally beg for peace, finally relaxing, languid and unsatisfied.

“Ranma…”

“Yeah?” I ask, feeling drowsiness engulf me, everything slow and gentle. I yawn with my eyes closed, feeling her caresses lull me deliciously.

“I think… maybe I’ve fallen in love with you.”

I open my eyes abruptly and look at her. Akane returns my gaze with a firm and determined look. If for a moment I had forgotten that she is a fighter, she has now reminded me of it in spades. She’s not afraid, either of war or love, she is filled with a courageous passion that leaves me breathless.

My whole body trembles, something stirs within my chest with a raging fervor. I rise, astonished, wanting to jump, wanting to shout, wanting to kiss her like a madman.

“Maybe?” I ask possessively, with a low growl as my hands cup her face, lifting her eyes in search of answers, inquiring selfishly, greedily. 

“Maybe.”

“And when, how can you know for sure?”

“I don’t know, we should think of something. How many girls have you fallen in love with? Did it feel like this?”

I smile arrogantly.

“How should I know? In my entire life, I’ve only fallen in love once. With you.”

She gasps in disbelief, and I kiss her, until I feel like I’m going to collapse, like I’m going to choke on my own lungs, until she gasps and moans again as my hands search beneath her clothes and I gently squeeze her curves, feeling her breasts press against me as my hands tentatively circle them.

“Just kissing,” she reminds me, trembling.

“Just kissing,” I reply with a pitiful whimper. I glance at the clock; it’s damn nearly three in the morning. “I hope they bring you that bed soon, because this is torture.”

“Don’t you want to sleep with me?” she asks, snuggling against my chest with a sigh.

“You won’t let me sleep. I’ve been trying to stop kissing you for hours.”

“And… you can’t stop?”

I capture her mouth again, and she responds with a laugh that excites me, so I bite her lower lip, and then we melt into a long kiss that threatens to provoke me completely once more.

“No…”

“It’s a problem.”

“Yes, it is.”

“I have no idea how to fix it.”

“Me neither.”

And from sheer exhaustion, we finally fall asleep, and I’m absolutely certain that I’ve never been happier.

.

..

…

AUTHORS NOTE: 

Hello again!

At this point, our story begins to take on a different tone, and we’re heading towards the events that will lead to the conclusion. Sweet, spicy and, I hope, thrilling moments lie ahead. I hope you enjoy it.

I’m also delighted to announce that the pace of publication is set to pick up, as most of the fic is practically written and currently being translated.

I’d like to thank Dani for her tremendous work on the translation and my betas for their dedication, despite everything they’ve got on their plates. 

Thank you for all the love you’re showing this little fic.

Kisses.

LUM

ILLUSTRATOR’S NOTE:

I’m not drawing right now, but I’m still here. Thank you for all the lovely messages about DLF! And thank you for always being so patient. Thank you as well for understanding why there won’t be any more illustrations 😦 and for all the kind messages you left me.

Enjoy reading!

ISA.