Spring of Drowned Vampire

4. More Than Anything

Author:

A young girl in a white blouse and blue dress made her way down the dark alleyways of Nerima, striding purposefully and determinedly, as though she didn’t want her fear to show. In her hands, she clutched a small bundle as though it held within its paper folds her only reason for living.

“Wait,” a voice called from above, and a shadowy form dropped down from a rooftop to land, light and silent as a feather before her in the halloed orange light of a street lamp. The girl started, immediately sliding into a fighter’s crouch. “No, stop–Akane, it’s me,” the silhouette said.

The girl didn’t budge, but there was a hesitation in her eyes that gave him courage enough to speak.

“Akane, I didn’t mean... Aw, geeze. I–I still love you, you know that, right?” He looked down at the pavement, slipping his hands into his pockets. “I always have, really. Please believe me.”

“Are you going to attack me or something?” She tucked her precious package under her arm, hating the way her voice wavered and betrayed her weakness.

“No.” There was a quiet finality behind the word, exposing some fresh soul- wound and she found it hard to doubt what he said. “Akane--”

“Have you ever killed anyone, Ramna?” she blurted, surprised by her own bitterness, feeling a twinge of guilt as she saw how deep her words had cut into the wincing figure in front of her.

It was a long time before he could bring himself to answer her, and the noise of the streets stretched between them. In the distance, a dog barked and American jazz music poured quietly from an open window above.

“Yes.” He looked up, gauging her reaction with some fear. More than anything, he wanted to tell her no, never. More than anything, he wanted to tell her everything would be all right. More than anything.... He wanted to sweep that girl off her feet and kiss that sweet face he had called “uncute” so many times...

“Would you ever--” her voice cracked–“would you ever kill me?” she asked, her eyes misting over almost against their will. She wiped the liquid hastily away, sniffing and drawing herself up.

Ranma suddenly didn’t look quite as strong as he had before, and his usual arrogant air seemed to fall away like a discarded cloak. His expression, usually handsome in its confidence, crumpled now, and he seemed to loose all tension in his legs.

Without thinking, Akane rushed forward to support the limp body of her lover, his dark form highlighted by the orange street lamp.

She somehow managed to prop him up against the brick wall of the building under the lamp, and he hunched forward, horrified lost look come across his face.

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Akane,” he croaked, and he leaned his head forward into his hands. Startled to hear the young man cry for the first time in her life, Akane set her package down beside him and wondered desperately how to react. This was Ranma. Ramna didn’t cry! “I’m so afraid,” he said through his hands and muffled sobs, “I used to keep my distance because of it, but then you, and me, and–I don’t think I can trust myself with you.”

There was so much torment in his voice that Akane’s fears melted into her love for him and her sympathy for his situation, however bizarre and frightening it seemed to herself.

She reached out, tentatively resting a hand on his shoulder in a clumsy attempt at a compassionate gesture. He jerked away suddenly, and looked up into her face.

“You have to go. You can’t stay near me–Kami, you know I love you, but that’s just it! I love you more than anything, and I won’t let anyone hurt you–not even myself.”

Akane backed away, horrified to see the tear-like streaks of dark red blood streaming down her lover’s face from the corners of his eyes, dripping to pool all over his hands. That was a face she had seen daily for years, a face she had known and kissed in passion several times in the last few days. Those were hands that had held her, hands that had caressed her secret and innermost parts. And now they were smeared in crimson. Terrified by this apparition of death before her, Akane stumbled over her package in her haste to move away, ripping the paper open to reveal a small glass bottle.

The thing rolled forward, first one way and then another, clinking loudly on the pavement before it came to a rest before the destitute vampire. Almost in spite of himself, Ranma leaned forward to read the scrawled, cramped handwriting of Dr. Tofu on the piece of paper wrapped around it:

---Extract of Nightshade---

1 USE WITH EXTREME CAUTION

To be taken 2 drops a day or at the

onset of symptoms. Effects will wear

off after 24 hours, leaving patient

exhausted. Overdose will lead to a

worsening of symptoms.

Keep out of reach of humans.

Frowning and caught off guard by the absurdity of the label, Ranma turned his tear-streaked face towards Akane with a question on his lips.

Still unnerved by his appearance, Akane explained. “It’s from Dr. Tofu. After I found out... I had a lot of time to think, and...” She looked down. “I still love you, there’s no way around that. I thought maybe there was a way somehow to reverse it, to help you... I didn’t know who to go to, and I couldn’t find you, so I went to Dr. Tofu.” She smiled weakly. “Apparently, the problem is a little more common than I thought.” Seeing he was still confused, she continued with difficulty, “it’s poison to humans, but to–to vampires, well... it’ll to help with the... you know... the hunger.”

Seeing the look in his eyes, she suddenly didn’t care any more about blood or monsters or any other idiosyncrasies her beloved could ever surprise her with–Akane knew now she loved him more than anything. She came close again, kneeling, and used a corner of her skirt to wipe the inhuman tears from his face and hands before it dried in the chill nighttime air.

“Akane, you don’t know how much this means to...” Ranma trailed off as the young girl covered his hands, still clutching the bottle to his chest, with her own. Somewhere overhead jazz music tumbled softly into the Nerima night, and an orange street lamp cast a halo of radiance over a young girl kissing a shadowy form in a dark alleyway.