-*- mode:text ; fill-column:79; -*- This is mine. I wrote it, so I've got copyright on it. I borrowed the characters and background from Shogakukan, Takahashi Rumiko, Kodansha, and Takeuchi Naoko. If they ever learn of it, I hope they say nice things. The main plot element, I admit to stealing, since Webdragon's story was, interesting, but a major squick for me. I hope he'll say nice things too ^_^ Anyone who reads this: I hope you'll say anything at all, even `Bwahaha, how could you write such a lousy piece of tripe!' (but if you say that, you'd better know what tripe _is_, or it's cheating) This story has some elements that some people feel are inappropriate for minors, the general public, and anyone of proper moral standing. If you are such a person, please do not read it, or at least send good feedback if you do. Enjoy, Suika (comment fiend. Please, reply! ssfr@mac.com will get to me at this point (2002/Jul/27)) *_* presenting at long last a story by Suika Roberts inspired by Webdragon 's Nullifier 122 [-rse?][Nullification][one hundred][twenty][two][potion?formula?] chapter the second ``Utchan, tell Aka- the others and the teachers that I won't be in to school today, and possibly not tomorrow,'' she nods, staring at the table. So I made breakfast, what of it? I'm not as good as Obaba, or Kasumi, or my mother, but I'm a sight better than Oyaji. ``Go ahead, it won't kill you,'' I serve myself in exasperation, put the ladle back and scoot a bowl over to her. ``Oh, Ranchan . . .'' she breaks off and does something I hadn't expected at all. She starts crying. I just stare at her, shocked, wondering what I did wrong, for a long moment, *Do Something* good idea. I set my bowl down and hurry over to her, wrap my arms about her firmly. ``What's wrong? What did I do?'' she shakes her head against my cheek, clasps her hands over my elbows. ``Nothing. It's just that no one else has cooked me breakfast since I learned how.'' She lets me go and wiggles around to face me. ``It was just such a shock. You never cooked in my daydreams, and this just made me realize that this is actually happening, that I've really got you.'' She kisses me, firmly, gently, on the lips; it takes all my willpower to break that contact. ``Eat. You want to be on time to school.'' She nods, hugs me tightly ``Thank you for cooking breakfast, Ranchan.'' She serves herself and I return to my food, realizing as I do so that I'd cooked enough for six again. It all gets eaten, though, so I guess it's OK. ``Ittekimasu!'' Utchan calls, a smile in her voice. ``Itterashai!'' I reply, an unexpected warmth in my belly. I wish for an instant that I could see her off, then realize she's already left. I'll have to wash the dishes faster tomorrow. I call the bookstore most highly recomended yesterday for directions. They turn out to be a couple blocks from Toukyou Eki, or about eight kilometers away. The woman who answered the phone had a really nice voice, too. *-* I drop to the street in front of the store, managing to avoid landing on anyone, a small feat considering the crowd. I'm still breathing hard as I go the door, and pause in abject shock. It looked just like a bookstore. I start reading shelf-labels, not sure if I'm disappointed or glad about that. I find the shelf I think I'm looking for, and start systematicly looking, reading blurbs, and getting ever more confused. I finally pull the book that looked least confusing off the shelf and sink to the floor to read it. It's about three hours later that I finish it. I stare at the cover for a moment, then stand to reshelve it, pause at the last moment to read the copyright date. I shelve the book at last and sag against the shelf opposite, worried. ``Nakayama-sensei is very pessimistic. Tanaka, Honda, and Doi are closer to what I've seen.'' I look up at the voice, expecting someone rather butch from her voice and masculine word choice. I blink up at the tall young man next to me, then the details clue me in that, no, this person isn't male. ``Thanks. With martial arts I can tell who's right on, who's a little off, and who's blowing it out their ear; I've not the experience with this kinda thing, I only came out to myself yesterday. I figured I'd come by and ask for books that would give me some kinda clue about what to expect.'' I make a self-depreciating face at her, ``I'd planned to ask, but when I walked in I pegged you as male.'' ``That happens a lot, actually. Sometimes it's nice, sometimes it isn't. You're a high school student, right?'' I nod, ``Me too. I have Wednesday mornings off though, so I put in four hours here, and they pay me in books,'' lots of schools get all bent about their students working, so that seems a good work-around. ``I've a fair collection now, so if you're ditching anyway I could swing you by our house, let you go through my books.'' ``Our?'' ``Yeah, me and my friend Michiru.'' It takes a moment for the euphemism to flag itself, then I nod. ``If you're willing to eat my cooking I'm sure Ukyou wouldn't mind if I brought you by for dinner.'' ``That'd be nice, there's probably four of us, though,'' she suddenly looks up, murmors an apology, and rushes to the counter to check out one of the two other customers. I drift over to continue chatting with her. ``What's your name?'' I look at her funny. ``Michiru gets upset with me when I tell her things like `I met this qute at the bookstore today, brought her home, and loaned her a buncha books,' so I'd better have your name.'' ``So you've done this before.'' ``Yeah.'' ``Well, I'm Saotome Ranma.'' ``The martial artist? I thought you were male, or at least taller.'' ``It's a long story, and you probably wouldn't believe me if I told you.'' ``I live one of those lives.'' She reaches out and tossles my hair, ``My name's Ten'ou Haruka.'' I think I should recognise both the name and the face, but I can't. It must have shown, for she continues, ``The F1 racer,'' and it clicks. ``Just about everyone at school talks about you. I must admit to not having paid much attention, though.'' She smiles at me, ``It's OK. I can say the same about you; a couple of my friends were at a park the day you trashed it about a year back, but I don't remember much more than that.'' I try to remember the incident, but there were so many that match the discription that I can't be sure. ``I probably don't remember which time that was, but maybe if you give me more details I could place it.'' She looks at me a bit funny, then laughs. ``You got your shirt ripped and the girl who was with you was all upset about it. The guy you were fighting got a nosebleed when he noticed, according to Usagi-chan.'' ``Nope, Ryouga didn't nosebleed, he just blushed and turned away. That was one of the first fights after I got back from China, and made one of the bigger messes.'' ``Oh good, my relief is here. Mai, this is Saotome Ranma.'' ``Kotobuki Mai, nice to meet you.'' I smile at her, and she smiles back. She is a very pretty woman, about fifty, pleasantly wrinkled. I chat with Mai for a little bit while Haruka disappears into the back, returning after a moment with a backpack and a set of keys in her hand. ``Yoush, ready to go?'' ``Un.'' ``Oh, she's invited you somewhere, has she? Careful, she's a dreadful flirt.'' ``I figured that much out already. Thanks for the warning, though.'' Mai gives me a hug, which feels very nice, even though I wasn't expecting it, then I follow Haruka from the shop. She leads me for a couple blocks, finally to a parked car. It is rather curvy, somewhat old looking in a nice way. She unlocks the passenger side door, lets me in, then gets in herself and starts the car. About ten minutes into the ride I realize that the seats are leather, and upgrade my estimate of her wealth again. The huge house she pulls up to makes me wonder about even that increased estimate, and she laughs when she notices my face. ``The house is Setsuna's, but the four of us share it.'' I notice the number again, and ask about it this time, ``Four of us?'' ``Michiru and I, Setsuna, and Hotaru. Hotaru is our collectively adopted daughter, and a real handful sometimes.'' ``How old is she?'' ``Sometimes it seems she's as old as the world, other times she's only about six. You'll get to meet her when we get inside.'' She leads the way to the house, enters without knocking, announcing that she'd brought a guest. A little girl, almost as tall as I am, comes bounding into the room, stopping suddenly and staring into my face. She doesn't say anything, but doesn't hide either. ``Hotaru-chan, I'd like you to meet Saotome Ranma.'' Her eyes get big at the name, and she's suddenly almost in my face. ``Can you really jump onto roofs without any magic at all?'' ``No magic,'' I hold my hand out palm up, remembering one of the more pleasant things Oyaji liked to do when I was small, ``link your hands over mine,'' I demonstrate when she doesn't, lacing my fingers together, then hold my hand out agiain. Small fingers grab me lightly, and I lift the girl into the air a half-meter or so, then set her down again. The worried feeling from the green-haired woman who'd followed Hotaru fades. ``Again!'' Hotaru demands, her fingers laced together in front of her, braced just under her chin-level this time. I lift her again, look at Haruka, then back at Hotaru. ``Just tell me when you want to be put down,'' I tell Hotaru, then look to Haruka, ``Books?'' Hotaru giggles as I follow Haruka into a room just filled with books. All four walls are covered floor to ceiling, and there are free standing book shelves taking up about half the remaining space. I make sure I don't accidentally knock Hotaru into anything as I follow Haruka, who stops in front of the far wall. ``Everyone on this shelf pretty much knows what they're talking about. The other shelves are a bit more of a mix,'' she tells me, looking at Hotaru, who's still dangling from my right hand. I start looking, pulling the occasional volume from the shelf. After a couple moments I look at Hotaru, ``Would you like to be set down? Having my hand back would make it easier to look for books.'' Hotaru shakes her head, but her arms are beginning to shake from fatigue. ``Howbout you climb onto my back? That way,'' Hotaru's already dropped to the ground, so I kneel down, and she climbs onto my back. A short while later I hear Haruka say something about leaving, and telling Setsuna when I go, but I don't pay as much attention as I should. A while after that I realize Hotaru's somehow fallen asleep on my back, but it doesn't seem too big of a deal. A good while later I look up again, realizing that the room is a lot darker than it was, and the sun is going down. I memorize my page number, pull the four other volumes I was most interested in from the shelf, and take them in search of Setsuna, who I assume is the green haired woman I saw earlier. I hear the front door open as I get to the hallway, and I look up at Haruka and an aqua-haired girl with her. Haruka smiles at me, ``How long have you been holding her?'' ``Since before you left. She fell asleep about two hundred pages ago, though.'' I turn to the aqua-haired girl, ``Saotome Ranma, pleased to meet you,'' I bow slightly, careful of the sleeping girl on my back. ``Kai'ou Michiru. I see you've already met Hotaru-chan.'' ``Yep. I think I saw Setsuna as well, but I didn't get introduced to her.'' Hotaru stirs on my back, almost falling off before I grab her hands. She wakes the rest of the way as I kneel down again. ``Thank you,'' she says, giving me a hug before running to hug `Haruka-papa' and `Michiru-mama.' The sight engenders a weird pang of longing, which I file away for later contemplation. Haruka catches my attention, ``Ranma?'' and I look up at her. ``Yeah?'' ``Could we give you a lift home? It's getting a little dark.'' I contemplate the offer for a moment before accepting. ``I guess I'd better take you up on that, since I don't want to worry Ukyou.'' They exchange a single glance, then Michiru steps forward, ``Where do you live?'' I give directions as she leads me out the door, holding it to make navigating with the stack of books in my arms easier. I nod thanks, and she leads me to a different, not so curvy, car. I set the books on the floor in front of the passenger seat while she gets in on the right side, buckle my belt when she tells me to, and she actually manages to draw me into a conversation, something I would not have considered possible if I had been asked. I learn a good bit about her, about her housemates, and give a great deal back in return. She stops in front of Utchan, and I gather the stack of books. She gets out, smiles, and gives my shoulder a light squeeze as I make thanks for the ride. ``Who was that?'' Utchan asks me, walking up behind me as Michiru drives off. ``Kai'ou Michiru. Her girlfriend loaned me a stack of books, and she was kind enough to give me a ride back into town.'' Utchan's hand softens on my shoulder, and I realize she had been jealous. I turn my head, catch her fingers with my lips and squeeze them lightly. ``Hey, what was that for?'' she squeals delightedly. I lean back against her, my movements hampered by the stack of books, and she gives me a firm hug before she continues, her voice tinged with regret, ``I need to get back to work.'' ``Can you watch the sunset with me for a little longer?'' She nods, her chin stroking my hair. A few short moments later the colors fade to grey, and I twist to kiss the underside of her chin. ``You need to get back to work,'' I say in reply to the very disappointed noise she makes when I stop. She lets me go, heading back inside and stepping back behind the grill. I take the books upstairs, fish the one I was reading out of the middle of the stack, and proceed to discover that it is a lot easier to read when one isn't standing up. I polish off the book, close it, and rest my head against it's cover for a moment, letting what I read settle. After a moment I blink, realizing something I should have earlier. I stack the books again, get up, and go in search of Utchan, because she didn't have that much cleaning to do, or I would have insisted on helping. ``Utchan?'' She looks up, her face damp and blotchy. A great hand grabs hold of my guts and twists, and I approach her in a rush. ``What's wrong?'' her face twitches at the sight of me, and that hand squeezes tighter, ``What did I do?'' She just shakes her head at me, not speaking. I sit on the floor next to her, press my face to her thigh, and ask again, ``What did I do? Please, tell me. I would have helped with the cleanup, but you were almost done. I thought I'd see you fourty-five minutes ago.'' Her hand brushes against my hair, and I twist to kiss her fingers, ``Talk to me, please.'' ``Where were you all day? You disappear in the morning and don't return until some girl drops you off. Then you tell me something about her girlfriend and disappear into my room. What am I supposed to think?'' Her voice is shaken; I hadn't realized how strong her preconception of how things should be was. I catch her fingers in mine, keep from protesting the strength of her grip by main force. ``I went to the bookstore early in the morning, tachiyomi'd a book, and then Ten'ou Haruka, Michiru-san's girlfriend, came over to talk to me. She invited me to borrow some of her books, and so I got a ride from her to her house. She introduced me to their daughter, and I spent most of the day reading in their library with the kid on my back. I only realized it was getting late when the sun started down, and they came home right after that.'' I gasp involuntarily when Utchan's fingers loosen, and she looks down. I try to catch her eyes, but she pulls up my hand instead, her lips soft against the bruised flesh. ``Why didn't you protest?'' she asks, tears again forming in her eyes. I get to my knees, kiss her cheek lightly. ``Because it would have shifted your attention from what I was saying.'' ``Why did you wait so long before you came down, then?'' I stand, press myself against her, ``I was reading while I waited. I only noticed something was wrong when you weren't up there when I finished the book.'' I kiss her again, trailing soft, light kisses up her throat, over her chin, almost making it to her lips before she wraps her fingers in my hair and draws me in, her kiss deep, hot, soul-warming. I don't bother trying to place what I feel, content to revel in the feel of her skin against my lips, her hands stroking me, warm against my back. After an indeterminately long time I can't stand it any more, and gather her up in my arms, her greater mass a little unwieldy until she wrapped her arms about my neck again. I manage not to bonk her into the wall, doorway, or stairwell as I carry her up to her room. She kisses me when I set her on her feet again, and my knees actually collapse, letting me drop to the ground. She tries belatedly to catch me, and I sit up, rubbing my head. ``You weren't,'' we start simultaineously, then she starts laughing, and I join her, for it is fairly silly. Martial Artists just don't bump their heads on the floor without a good reason. Although, that kiss was a pretty good reason. I smile up at her, contemplating the problem of fishing the futon out, when she goes and pulls it out of its compartment. I help her spread it before knocking her feet out from under her, catching her full weight on my hands, then lowering her to rest against my chest. ``Caught you.'' She laughs, her hands sliding up under my shirt. I suddenly realize that her hands are huge, almost long enough to streach all the way across my belly. I catch one, pull it carefully into place and hold it flat, waiting for her to notice. After a moment she does, blinking. ``I never realized you were so tiny.'' She smiles broadly, leans close and starts kissing my belly, nibbling lightly. I moan appreciatively, pressing up against her, ``I'm not tiny, you're huge.'' She leaves off kissing me, and I moan in dissappointment before she starts on my shirt buttons. ``I'm not the person who changed. You were the same size as I was when we met.'' The belts on her outfit come off fairly easily, as does her shirt, and I pull her against me again after getting it off. ``I remember. You've grown about a meter since then. I'm closer to the size I was when you first met me than you are.'' She giggles, her chest wrap scraping lightly against my bare skin, then rolls off of me. My shirt joins the pile of her clothes on the floor before I try to help her out of her tights. They eventually surrender to our tugging and her wiggling, and are added to the pile. Three ties and a tiny bit of wiggling and my pants join the pile, leaving us clad in just our boxers and her chest wrap. I eye the bulge I finally notice in her shorts with a tiny bit of apprehension, and she notices. ``Sock. Draws the female customers like you would not believe,'' she smiles at me, ``'course, it doesn't attract all of them.'' She unpins her chest wrap, carefully replacing the safety pins as she goes, then begins unwrapping. Quickly she unwraps it, balling the stiff material as she passes it hand to hand, wincing slightly as the last of it comes free. The material bounces twice when it hits the floor, and I lean carefully forward, up on my knees so I can kiss her more easily. A moment later I pull her over on top of me, trailing kisses down her throat, across her shoulder, her soft gasps encouraging, the warm press of her breasts against me, and in sudden mischief I bite her the point of her shoulder, hard, but not hard enough to break the skin. She gasps louder, presses against me with greater force, and I move on, kissing my way down her arm, wiggling under her in order to continue. She starts on me, trailing soft nibbles up my arm, then nibbling on my fingers, sucking them lightly, and it feels so nice. I catch the web of her thumb firmly between my teeth, and she bites my finger, stroking it with her tongue as I shake my head back and forth a little, pulling lightly on the thick webbing. I let go, making sure that I didn't accidently bite her too hard, then try to kiss her side, but it is out of reach. A moment's contemplation tells me that while being squished is nice, being able to kiss my friend where and when I want is better, so I roll us over onto her back. She gasps most pleasantly when I stick my tongue in her belly-button, so I suck lightly at it, smiling as she presses up against me, stroking the smooth skin of her sides. The damp warmth of her boxers startles me, and I look up at her. ``I thought only guys had this problem,'' She looks at me funny, so I stroke the damp spot, and she gasps loudly. Intrigued, I slide my left hand down to the waistband of her boxers, struggle for a moment, then break down and use both hands, stripping the garment off easily. The sock is actually sewn [that word looks misspelled, but I don't think it is --S] in place, which seems a wise precaution for a martial artist. They quickly join the pile, and I nibble along the red line left by the waistband, enjoying the way she squirms and presses against me, her hands tangled in my hair. Remembering her earlier reaction, I try stroking her again, my touch light as it slips through her pubic hair, over her petals. She gasps again, pressing her hips up against my hand, gently guiding me with her reactions. Suddenly she stiffens, a loud strangled gasp escaping her control, her fingers clutching me tightly. Only the steady beat of her pulse keeps me from worrying, and I shift to look into her face as she calms, her breath and pulse slowing. ``What was that?'' She looks at me like I'm a total nutcase, which I may well be. ``Let me show you.'' I look down, her beautiful face dripping sweat, her hair already somewhat tangled, and lower myself down on top of her, kissing her firmly. I break off the kiss. ``Sure.'' -*- ``Are you sure you want to do this?'' ``It'll probably help you deal with the admissions process.'' I look over at her, place my hands on my hips, and strike a pose. ``I don't mean that! I mean,'' I flutter one hand down my front, ``Do you want me to wear this. I've got enough reservations about this plan as it is, and if you don't want me to, or don't like the thought, or do, I need, want, to know. Please?'' I bat my eyelashes at her, and she laughs. ``OK, I think you're rediculously cute like that, and I do like the way you look in a proper girls uniform, but if you don't want to, don't.'' ``Would you be embarassed to walk to school with me like this?'' I twirl in front of her, and she laughs again. ``No, I just wonder if you're not too butch to pull it off.'' I laugh this time. ``I'm small enough that `butch' translates directly to cute so long as I don't break any bones.'' She posilutely guffaws. ``OK, let's get out of here.'' -*- Everyone looks at me a little funny as I walk into the classroom, glad to finally have the morning's ordeal dealt with. I never would have thought it would be so much trouble to register for school; never mind that I'd only been one person two days ago, it should not have been so much trouble; I had to invoke Obaba's name to make them let me fill out the forms, and I've this feeling that if I don't get someone to fix things for me I'll end up Chinese. Utchan smiles at me as I walk in, Ranma scowls, and Akane gives me this very strange look, almost a smile but not quite. The teacher gives me a slightly scared look as he introduces me, but I smile at him anyway. He gulps, pales a bit, and waves me toward the seat next to Utchan, which someone has thoughtfully vacated. I sit down, she squeezes my shoulder, most of the class goes all atwitter, and someome looks at me balefully. I smile back at her, squeeze Utchan's hand, and get to work on the completely boring assignment the teacher is making us do. Finished with the assignment I fish out my fluff-piece, and get through another couple chapters before the angst gets too deep. I memorize my place again and stuff it away as the class ends, carefully wrapping the fragile artifact before stuffing it into my new school bag, an extravagance I'd not expected from Utchan. I fish the next of the books I'd borrowed from Haruka-san out of my bag, open it onto my desk, and begin where I'd left off earlier, about three pages in. The words drag me in, full of strange ideas, concepts, and general nastiness I'd never expected, and could hardly believe exist. Only the knowledge that I've led a fairly sheltered life and my trust of Haruka-san's judgement kept me from dismissing it all out of hand. Why would anyone burn another person after tying them to a stake, just because they happen to have power in a community, or don't acknowledge the athority of the rather evil person in charge, or love a person deemed `inappropriate?' Hinako-sensei yells at `Saotome-san,' so I look up to see if she's refering to me. Ranma has someone's fist buried in his gut, and looks mildly discomforted. The someone turns her back on him, then smiles at me, viciously slamming her elbow into his solar plexus when he tries to touch her shoulder. I stare at both of them in shock, quite perplexed, then turn back to my book. I'm better than halfway through with it by the time lunch rolls around, amazingly without getting hassled by the teachers once, despite my greater than normal lack of attention. Released, the class floods from the room, leaving just me, Utchan, and the girl who'd been pounding on Ranma all morning alone. She approaches us, and I watch her warily, Utchan tensing beside me. `Ranma,' she asks, `May I speak with you for a moment?' Utchan's tension increases a little bit. `Go ahead.' I step closer to Utchan, emphasising our closeness. She relaxes a little bit as her hand comes to rest on my shoulder. `Alone, please.' Utchan tenses again, growls, `If you . . . ' `If she tries to hurt me I'll leave some of her for you.' Akane grimaces, but doesn't protest my assesment of her skill-level, and Utchan leaves the room. ``So, why did you want to talk to me?'' ``I,'' she breaks off, reaches for me slowly, wrapping her fingers over my cheeks, then leans forward and kisses me on the lips. I extract my face from her grip. ``That would have been a lot,'' I break off, start over, ``I would have been in a lot better position to enjoy that three days ago.'' ``Three days ago you were male, looking for a `cure.' '' she emphasizes that last in a way I find peculiar for a moment, then realize what she means. ``And you don't finde males attractive.'' There is a chill in my heart, knowing that. ``No, yes, Grr! I like you a lot, I think, in fact, that I love you, but you were so concerned about your `cure,' so focused, that I didn't,'' ``Think.'' I snap coldly, cutting her off. ``Do you really think I'd have continued looking for a cure if you'd told me? Do you think I'd have tried a strange fluid in a dusty bottle if it working would have meant I'd loose you?'' My voice wavers in both tone and volume, but I don't much care. ``You know what? You were the single most important thing in my life.'' She flinches at the use of past tense, but I continue, ``I would not have willingly given up my manhood for the Art, but if you'd asked me,'' I shake my head, tears trying to escape, ``But you didn't. You never even gave me a decently clear sign, never trusted me enough to tell me.'' She tries to protest, ``It isn't too late,'' ``Yes, it is.'' She gasps like a beached fish when I cut her off again, ``I've made promises. Promises to someone who trusts me to keep them. Promises to someone who I care about very deeply. Maybe I love you. Maybe I always will love you, but I can't do anything about it now. If you'd told me sooner, maybe things would be different right now. Sayonara.'' I turn away from her, tears dripping slowly down my face, and walk out the door. I lean back against the wall and try to contain myself, biting my knuckles firmly. Inside the room I hear a window open. ``Is,'' a voice, my voice, or at least it was, begins, ``What she just said true?'' ``Yes.'' Akane's voice is small. ``So you never loved me, but only her?'' There is something I don't want to think about in his voice. ``No. I love you both, but,'' ``But?'' that edge . . . ``I just don't find you attractive that way.'' She's crying, I can suddenly tell. ``Then why did you let me look for a cure?'' . . . is Ranma trying not to cry . . . ``Because,'' she gulps, ``it seemed to make you happy. If you found a cure I'd have to tell you, but I never thought . . .'' ``She is right about that!'' Ranma almost barks, ``You never seem to think! Who else really cared whether I found a cure or not? Mom accepted me, and no one else ever gave me much hassling over it. I wanted a cure becase I thought you wanted one.'' He finishes in a smaller voice. ``Why?'' Akane almost squeeks. *Bam* sounds like one of the desks bought it, ``The way you acted, skittish when I was male, worse than that when I was female, possessive at all times, but so sweet and caring sometimes too. I thought this, was what you wanted. You can tell she thought the same thing, or she would have come back to you, instead of going to Utchan. Even though you beat on me, even though you continually try to feed me the toxic mess you invariably make when you try to cook, despite everything, you are the center of my world. And I've forever destroyed my chances of being happy with you, because I never knew what you wanted of me, because I never asked and you never told.'' ``Ranma,'' Akane's voice is small, shaken. ``Sayonara.'' Ranma's crying, his voice breaking on the middle of the word, and then a window slams. I know how she is feeling, for I have a great deal of experience with it, that knowing that the world has blown up in my face again, and it is all my fault. But there is nothing I can do for her without breaking promises, promises to someone who I probably owe my life, my sanity, promises that are stronger than steel chains and lighter than the whisper of her hair across my face. -*- ``Utchan,'' I ask, staring at my feet, strange in the black patent leather school shoes, ``Would you prefer if I was male?'' I concentrate on the pattern of holes in the toe of my left shoe, wondering who decided on shoes with seven holes rather than six or nine. Instantly she's holding me in her arms, her chin pressed against my shoulder, ``Of course not! Whyever would you ask such a thing?'' ``'cause what Akane had to tell me.'' I stare at the wall of the school for a moment, ``She, she is, she doesn't find males attractive. She just told me, and Ranma. If you want him.'' I try to suppress the quaver in my voice during that last sentance, but it comes out anyway. ``So,'' Utchan's voice is suddenly soft, scared, ``You want to pass me on to the other Ranma so you can have Akane?'' I shake my head, ``No, but if you would like him instead, I,'' that quaver is back, ``don't want you to be unhappy.'' ``I love you. I don't think I could deal with him, having known you; please, don't doubt that.'' She squishes me firmly in her arms, then pushes me back again, ``I have your bentou.'' The thought of food focuses my attention nicely, now that my worries are not pounding on my head anymore, and it quickly dissappears. ``Hey,'' Utchan pulls my attention, and I look up after catching the last grain of rice, ``I forgot to thank you for making me lunch yesterday, so let me make it up to you,'' she reaches for me, and I let her draw me into her arms, and she kisses me, her tongue stroking my own, a very lovely feeling that seems to last forever. ``Hey, you. Why have you abandoned your pursuit of my Ranma-sama for this boy?'' It takes a moment to pull myself back into reality, and another to place the voice. ``Kunou Kodachi-san!'' I turn and smile up at her, ``I was never after your Ranma. I was your Ranma, body and soul, to quote Nabiki. Hot water turned me into him, and cold water turned him into me. Recently that curse was broken, and now we are two seperate people.'' Kodachi blinks, her mouth opening and closing soundlessly. Finally she calms, ``That would explain a few things. How could you give up your hold on someone who was yourself. You say he is now free to pursue others?'' ``Akane,'' I press myself back against Utchan, ``Who was very attractive to both of us, neglected to let slip that she found _me_ attractive and not him, and it came as a shock when she finally deigned to tell us today. I don't even know if he still likes girls after that.'' Kodachi gets a strange expression on her face, and wanders quietly away. ``I hope you didn't give her too many ideas. He is my friend, you know.'' ``I think she'll try not to shock him again; maybe it'll be good for both of them.'' Utchan shakes her head, hugging me against her again. --- log: 1999 sometime -- written 2001 Jan 7: added log, and header. 2002 July 27: changed contact address