I Enjoy Being a Girl!

Part Six

Kasumi had not been able to stop Ryoga from leaving the house, but she trusted that Ranma, who followed shortly afterward, would be able to trail the Lost Boy and bring him back. She also knew it was likely that he wouldn’t want to come back, and that the inevitable fight would ensue between he and Ranma, but that was all par for the course and as it should be. Things simply wouldn’t be right if the two boys didn’t battle each other every step of the way, but Kasumi was confident that the pig tailed martial artist would bring Ryoga back come hell or high-water, even if it was only to retrieve his pack and belongings.

Of course, there would be far more to it than that. Nothing was ever so simple, no matter how much Kasumi sometimes wished it was.

The eldest Tendo daughter returned quietly to the kitchen, bypassing the dining room where the family patriarchs were now engaged in rather loud exchanges of bickering and bawling over what should be done about this latest cruel twist of fate, their shogi game having been interrupted by the blow-out in the kitchen that even they hadn’t been able to ignore. Their children were at odds again, and though that was really nothing unusual, the reason for the rift was, and neither Genma or Soun dealt very well with Things Out of the Ordinary. Kasumi habitually neglected to notice them, years of patient practice enabling her to tune them out, while she anticipated the mess that awaited her in the kitchen. Not only would the mortal remains of the table - an innocent victim of Akane’s anger - have to be cleaned up, but the dishes from breakfast were still waiting in the sink as well. And here it was already late morning! The very thought made her squirm uncomfortably.

And, regretfully, Kasumi had to concede to the possibility that lunch might be a tad late.

As she stepped in, ducking under the banners and eying their burnt edges with a tolerant sigh, Kasumi was greeted by the sight of her little sister, sitting on the floor in the midst of the broken table, half-heartedly picking up the splintered pieces. Tears traced gently down her cheeks, and she reached up absently to wipe them away with the back of her hand, face lowered.

Kasumi recognized this as being one of those rare times when the dishes could wait (for a few minutes) and knelt in front of Akane, retrieving the cutting board from the pile and holding it primly in her lap, while she used the hem of her apron to carefully dust it.

"Imoto?" she asked gently.

Akane sniffled as she looked up, her eyes and nose juvenilely red from crying. She looked just like a spoiled three-year old who had just finished throwing a tantrum. Luckily, this child seemed to realize just how damaging her actions had been, much to Kasumi’s maternal relief. "Kasumi . . . " she began hesitantly. "I did a terrible thing."

Kasumi nodded, but there was understanding and infinite patience in both the gesture and her following gentle words. "I know. I was here and saw the whole thing." She paused for a moment, contemplatively. "Do you know why it happened?"

Akane looked truly miserable. A regretful moan escaped her lips. "Not really. I was angry with Ranma for what he was doing, and then Ryoga defended him and I just . . . " She lowered her head, once again on the verge of tears. Her friend! Her dear kind friend! She -knew- how easily hurt he was, and yet she had still . . . "Oh Kasumi! How could I have been so mean to him?! Ryoga has always treated me with kindness and respect, and then I turn around and . . . "

"Why were you angry with Ranma?"

Akane glanced up in surprise at the gentle interruption, indignant almost immediately despite her remorse. "What do you mean - why? You saw what he was doing! The baka pretended to still think he was a girl, just so that he could pick on Ryoga!"

Kasumi tilted her head slightly, as if questioning, but the light in her eyes said that she knew the answer to what she was asking. What she wanted to know was - did Akane know? "Are you sure that’s the only reason he pretended?" she asked patiently.

"Of course it was," Akane grumbled stubbornly, not wanting to go where Kasumi was trying to lead her. She crossed her arms over her chest and deliberately looked away, still sniffling resentfully. "What other reason could there be?"

"Akane. You know the answer to that as well as I."

The youngest of the Tendo clan obstinately managed to maintain her defiance for a moment longer before slumping in defeat, and hanging her head again. She knew . . . yes, she knew - there was another reason - and she also knew exactly why it had angered her so. "Oneechan . . . " she whispered brokenly. "Last night, I as good as told Ranma that I . . . that I . . . " Curse it all! She -still- couldn’t say the actual word! " . . . care about him. But he barely acknowledged it, and the first thing he did was start chasing after Ryoga!" She began to cry again, burying her face in her hands. "I’m so horrible that he would rather spend the rest of his life as a girl with another man, than with me!"

Kasumi first looked surprised, as if this was not the reaction she had expected, then her expression softened again and she leaned forward to gather her little sister into her arms, embracing her with warm firmness that was designed to stabilize and comfort. "Oh Akane," she purred soothingly. "Surely you must know how untrue that is. It’s not you, imoto. If you told him that you cared, that might have frightened him into the extreme measures he took, but not because he thinks you’re horrible."

Akane looked up at her sister, rubbing at her eyes with a hard fist. "Well, why then?!" she asked, coming close to wailing.

"Because opportunity presented itself, Akane. Ranma saw that if he continued to pretend he was a girl, he would be able to pursue Ryoga and no one would become suspect. After all, girls are -suppose- to like boys, ne? He just wrongly assumed that no one would be hurt by actions that should have seemed perfectly normal."

Akane shook her head, frowning, her face screwing up as she tried to make sense of what Kasumi was saying. "But -why-?!" she repeated demandingly. "I still don’t understand why!"

Kasumi blinked, realizing then that Akane really didn’t understand. "Why? Because Ranma has very deep feelings for Ryoga, Akane," she said as if this were the most common knowledge in the world and she was surprised that anyone could not know it.

Akane stared, her body tensing and her mind whirling blankly for a few minutes before shocked thoughts managed to settle into some sort of coherent arrangement and present themselves for her consideration. Ranma . . . Ranma -liked- Ryoga? Liked, as in LIKED? He wasn’t teasing, he wasn’t being perverted, but he actually . . . the very idea seemed disturbing and yet . . . Akane had plainly witnessed the expression of caring and concern in Ranma-chan’s eyes as Ryoga was hurt. She had heard the bitterness in his voice when he emphasized that Ryoga had always loved -her-.

Could it be?

"I would guess that Ranma has always been confused about his orientation," Kasumi was continuing matter-of-factually, looking thoughtful. "Just from the way he acts when he’s one form or another. He might insist that he’s a male through and through, and rather loudly at that, but haven’t you ever noticed how easily his attitude shifts when he’s a girl, Akane? He’s still himself, but his mannerisms change. He generally talks quieter, he’s sometimes more understanding, more demure. I doubt he even realizes that he’s doing it, but he often settles quite naturally into a more feminine mind-set, and that transition seems to be becoming easier for him as time goes on."

Akane eagerly grasped at the straws she thought were being offered. "You mean, his curse is affecting him?" she asked hopefully. Well, if that was the case, then the solution was as simple as redoubling efforts at finding a cure or returning to China. Once Ranma was a complete man again, then . . .

"No, imoto. I don’t think that’s the case." Kasumi said gently, squeezing Akane’s shoulder comfortingly with a soft smile. "I think that the curse is simply a convenient way for him to indulge in that side of his nature without raising suspicion. Just from watching him since he’s been living with us, I believe that I can confidently say that, as far as Ryoga is concerned, Ranma is gay."

Gay. The word seemed so stunning and abrupt, especially coming from Kasumi. Gay. Her iinazuke was gay. He was attracted to another boy. Akane brought her hand up and worriedly chewed on the side of her thumb, brows knitting together as she tried to come to grips with the implications of the word.

Kasumi watched her little sister for a moment, seeing her struggle with the concept, knowing that she needed more convincing. "Ranma has known Ryoga for a very long time, Akane. And the relationship they share is a very different one from any of Ranma’s other ties. Think about it carefully, imoto. They may fight and bicker, but when it comes right down to it, don’t they always help each other out?"

"I suppose," Akane said doubtfully, though she knew it was the truth. She had always suspected, and even suggested to them, that they really were good friends, whether they wanted to admit it or not. And come to think of it, she had never heard either one of them actually deny it.

"And, Ranma always seems pleased to see Ryoga, doesn’t he?" Kasumi continued matter-of-factually. "Didn’t you tell me that when Ryoga first showed up at Furinkan, Ranma offered him a hug? How often does he greet any of the women in his life so warmly?"

Akane soberly considered that for a moment. "When Ukyo first arrived . . . "

"Ranma thought she was a boy," Kasumi pointed out.

The youngest Tendo looked crestfallen. "You’re right," she conceded. "He did think Ukyo was a boy, but ever since he found out that she wasn’t . . . he’s treated her just like the rest of us." Akane sighed softly, her mind now mulling over this new facet to Ranma . . . one she would have never dared consider before. But . . . could it really be true? The way Ranma interacted with the other males that revolved in and out of his life almost seemed to dismiss the gay verdict. With Kuno, Ranma often seemed rather annoyed or disgusted. He was clearly indifferent to Mousse. And his extreme reactions to Mikado’s kiss had not seemed at all like the actions of a man attracted to other men.

But then she thought about Ryoga again. Dear handsome Ryoga, the boy who seemed perpetually angry, constantly hurt. It was true that Ranma often went out of his way to tease the Lost Boy, but it was never with maliciousness. There was always an underlying sense of good-humor to the teasing, as if the pig tailed martial artist had an innate sense of just how far he could push to goad Ryoga into a fight, but also where to stop before the taunts became permanently unforgivable. At times, the normally insensitive Saotome heir even acted concerned about the other’s feelings.

And whereas Ranma might punt Kuno across town without a second thought, he never did the same to Ryoga. Ranma toyed with most of his casual opponents when fighting, but there was always a more serious sense of purpose to his demeanor when he faced Ryoga, as if he had more respect for the Lost Boy’s challenges than those of the others. And then there was the way that both boys were continually helping each other, while still claiming to be rivals, just as Kasumi had pointed out.

But perhaps the most convincing evidence was Ranma’s supremely annoying habit of always interfering with Akane and Ryoga’s dates. Not once had the youngest Tendo been able to spend time with the Lost Boy without Ranma somehow interrupting. And it was never just about waterproof soap or other supposed cures for the Jusenkyo curse. Akane couldn’t imagine any conceivable reason for Ranma to pretend to be Ryoga’s sister or iinazuke or even Akane herself . . . except for jealousy.

Jealousy directed toward her, and not toward Ryoga, as Akane had always assumed . . . and even hoped.

Kasumi leaned down a bit and looked into her little sister’s face, searching the disbelief and slow understanding that she found there. "Are you all right, Akane?" she asked gently.

Akane nodded numbly. "Hai . . . " she muttered. "I’m just a little . . . uhm, stunned, I guess." She returned Kasumi’s gaze, lifting her head. "I think . . . I think I can understand why Ranma pretended to still think he was a girl. I suppose that he thought it was the only way he could get what he wanted and not be considered a disgusting deviant. But . . . " she put her hand over her chest, feeling the soft ache that was still there, the thumping remnants of her anger, and her grief over having dealt out such pain to one of her dearest friends. "I think it just made things worse . . . "

"Ranma doesn’t always exercise the best judgement," Kasumi agreed lightly, getting back to her feet, picking up the cutting board and several pieces of the table as she did, writing a mental note to herself to stop at the second-hand store when she went to the market, to see about having another table delivered. Or perhaps she would send Soun and Genma out to do it, get them out of the indentations their rears had worn into the wood of the porch for awhile . . .

"What should I do, Kasumi?" Akane asked quietly, also getting to her feet.

"You should apologize to Ryoga-kun, imoto. But first, why don’t you help me with the dishes? It will probably be awhile before Ranma manages to drag him back here anyway."

*****************

Ranma ran, traveling rapidly through the streets of Nerima as if his very existence depended on it. It didn’t, really, but feeling rather over-dramatic and fatalistic, Ranma imagined that it did. Bright worried sapphirine eyes darted from side to side as he searched for his quarry, the elusive Lost Boy who seemed to have the supernatural ability to displace himself at exactly the worst moments. A chant of "Damn damn damn . . . " repeated itself through Ranma’s head ad nauseam. Curse it all! There was no telling how far Ryoga might have gotten with his head start, nor which way he headed. How was Ranma suppose to find someone who had no sense of direction?!

And what the hell was he suppose to say once he found him?

Being that his purpose was a rather single-minded one, Ranma failed to notice the presence of one of his iinazuke as he blew by her. Sweeping the pavement in front of her restaurant, Ukyo looked up in surprise when he tore past, watching his form dart here and there between the other pedestrians littering the street.

"Oi, Ranchan!" she called, but he was already out of hearing range. She hmm’ed to herself, wondering what was going on. Obviously Something Was Up, because not only did Ranma not normally look so intensely serious, but he almost always stopped to say hello to her, or at least waved whenever he passed.

Well, she decided with loyal determination, if something was wrong, then it was her duty as his iinazuke to be at his side. Quickly, the long haired okonomiyaki chef returned her broom to the restaurant, let her afternoon help know that she was stepping out for a few minutes, and took off after the dashing object of her affections.

Too concerned over locating Ryoga, Ranma was oblivious to being followed, just as he didn’t really notice when, a few moments and several blocks down the street later, an ominous shadow fell over him from above, accompanied by a familiar *ringring* sound. As luck would have it, however, the bicycle which should have slammed into his head and plowed him into the ground, missed him by scant inches, crashing down onto the pavement immediately behind him.

The rider of the bike reflected to herself that Ranma was moving very fast today.

"Nihao Airen!" Shampoo greeted enthusiastically, with a smiling wave that was designed to be unbearably cute and attractive. Unfortunately, much to her chagrin, Ranma didn’t even pause and was nearly two city blocks ahead of her by the time the words were out of her mouth. Amethyst eyes narrowing, Shampoo mmrrrr’d with annoyance and pedaled quickly to catch up with him.

She rode beside him for a moment, considering the serious searching expression on his handsome face, the burn of worry in his shining eyes. The Amazon girl purred to herself in excitement. Something was going on! An Event was in the happening, and Shampoo simply loved chaos and challenge. And just judging by the strength of Ranma’s intensity, this might prove to be very interesting indeed. Such situations were always good opportunities to score points for herself with her reluctant airen.

"Aiyah!" she exclaimed delightedly. "Airen searching for something, yes? Shampoo help!"

"Excuse me, honey!" Ukyo, having pelted the pavement hard to catch up with her man, pulled up along side of Shampoo and shot her a rather indignant and heated glare. "If anyone is going to help Ranma, it’ll be me!"

"Spatula Girl not know when not wanted," Shampoo observed, returning Ukyo’s glare coldly. "Is Shampoo’s duty to help airen. Ranma! Ranma, what you look for?"

"Yeah, Ranchan! What’s going on?"

"Huh?" Ranma’s eyes focused on them, as if he were only now noticing their presences, which Shampoo knew was silly, of course. Certainly simple plain Ukyo was easy to overlook, but there was no way Ranma could have failed to see a creature as stunning as herself, no matter how distracted he was.

But, she had to concede that, despite all of his other obvious assets, Ranma could be a little slow on the uptake, so she was happy enough to repeat her offer, with a small added suggestion. "Shampoo help Airen search, then when find, Ranma take Shampoo to date for celebrate?"

"What?!" He seemed confused and surprised by her generous volunteering for a moment, then shook his head. Two more easily riled iinazuke was exactly what he -didn’t- need right now. "No, Shampoo! I ain’t got time for you right now! Sorry Ucchan, I gotta go!" he yelped firmly, kicking in a little more speed, resuming his search, and leaving the two girls in the dust as he did. Diligently, they did their best to keep up with him, though they were a bit hampered by the continuation of their competitive argument, as well as the eventual brandishing of individual weapons.

Moments later, Ranma stopped abruptly, taking no notice when the girls over-shot him, nor when several nameless pedestrians bumped into him from behind and went away muttering angrily. The pig tailed martial artist ignored all and simply squinted upward, shielding his eyes against the early afternoon sun. After untangling themselves from the remains of a wall they shattered with their impact, both Shampoo and Ukyo also curiously looked up to see if they could figure out what Ranma was searching for. As far as they could tell, he was eyeballing the larger buildings that made up downtown Nerima and were positioned along the length of the canal.

"Ranma?" Shampoo queried, frowning at the named boy. "What you look at?"

"Ranchan? What’s up?" Ukyo echoed.

Ranma dutifully ignored them both. He slapped his fist against his palm, a grim smile of dubious triumph crossing his face. "Yatta!" he exclaimed tersely. "That’s him! Later, guys!" With that, he jumped away from them, vaulting to the top of the nearest short building, quickly putting a fair amount of distance between himself and the two girls as he hopped from roof to roof, moving ever upwards.

They watched his form grow smaller for a long wondering moment, then Shampoo crossed her arms with an annoyed "Hmph!", angry at being ignored and slighted, and for what? What in the world was Ranma so concerned and worried about anyway? This was extremely odd behavior for her airen. And who was the "him" that Ranma had referred to?

This was obviously a matter for investigation, and Shampoo intended to do just that. "Shampoo see what all fuss is about," she muttered, abandoning the remains of her bike with the intention of following her airen. Unfortunately, she wasn’t alone in her aim. A rather large spatula abruptly blocked her way.

"I’m with you, sugar," Ukyo declared tersely, shooting Shampoo a rather cold expression which plainly stated that the Amazon wasn’t going anywhere without her.

**************

Aside from his blindness to the obvious, Ryoga Hibiki had one other major personality flaw . . . ah, okay, he had several, but only one that was really important at that particular moment. This was his inability to act in degrees. On the whole, Ryoga really had no concept whatsoever of "middle ground," as far as he was concerned there was only one extreme or the other in any given situation, and he had a tendency to jump from the low end of the spectrum to the high end with an uncanny grace that would have put the most seasoned emotional acrobat to shame.

Thus, upon being harshly spoken to and insulted by the one person he was certain he loved above all others, Ryoga easily and naturally decided that if there was ever a time to End It All, this was it.

Now, of course the situation certainly didn’t warrant as extreme a measure as suicide, but Ryoga simply couldn’t fathom that. He gave no thought to the future, to getting over the heartbreak, to going on with his life, because as far as he could see, those options just didn’t exist. For all intents and purposes, he was convinced that this was the end. Not that his had been much of a life worth living to begin with, but at least there had always been his love for Akane to keep him going . . . that and the grievances against Ranma. But even those hot ongoing grudges paled in comparison to the terrible thought of living in a world in which Akane hated him, as she obviously did. That was a fate more horrible than Ryoga’s easily-shattered psyche was prepared to handle.

This unreasonably extreme lack of self-preservation was what had brought him here, to the top of one of the tallest buildings in Nerima, overlooking the canal. Plunging from such a height into the water below would likely kill a martial artist of even his strength and fortitude, especially since he would be sure to turn into a much more delicate piglet when he hit. Disturbingly enough, it was almost kind of pleasant to think of P-Chan’s bashed and battered body being swept along with the unrelenting current to eventually end up in the ocean . . . lost forever in those endless depths and expanse of water.

Buffeted by a demanding wind which vortexed around the structure he was standing on, Ryoga looked down at his final destination, long unkept hair blowing every which way, dark eyes shimmering with uneasy anticipation and desperate unshed tears. A narrow street passed between the canal and the building, and there was a slight chance that he might not actually reach the water, but be dashed against the concrete instead. He blinked for a moment, considering that possibility, then miserably decided that would be fine too. Actually, it didn’t matter how he went, as long as it was in the messiest and most unworthy way possible.

Nope. No honorable seppuku for this little piggy. He had betrayed the one he loved. For however brief the moment, however insignificant the statement, he had spoken against his beloved Akane-san. That was terrible enough in itself, but far more horrible was the realization that he had also betrayed his love for her with his fleeting attraction to Ranma-chan’s busty little body. Ranma-chan, of all people!! That was a shame that Ryoga simply could not live with.

And so, Ryoga jumped to the ledge around the top of the building and prepared to make the final leap into nothingness. And he might have gone through with it right then and there without a second’s hesitation had he not remembered something rather important just in the nick of time: All heros and/or anti-heros about to face death were obligated to make a final speech of some sort. Now, while Ryoga didn’t consider himself much of a hero (though he would have liked to have been . . . ), he supposed that he did sort of fall into the anti-hero category, which meant that he was now compelled to come up with some appropriately dismal words to punctuate his death, even though there was no one around to hear.

It was simply how these things were done.

He considered for a moment, then bravely faced the yawning expanse beyond the building, putting on his most tragic serious expression, curling his hand into a fist at his chest. His hair was tossed in the wind, the sky began to slowly darken thanks to one of Nerima’s oddly unpredictable incoming rainstorms, and it seemed that the silence around him grew befittingly heavy, as if the entire world were waiting to hear the final words uttered by this miserable young man.

Pausing for a dramatic moment - and thus giving Ranma the time he needed to reach the rooftop - Ryoga shut his eyes slowly, once again thinking of the pain that had brought him to this high spot in the first place. The agony of his betrayal of his love for Akane rippled through him , and he lost all pretense as he thought of the cold angry shimmer in her dark eyes. Lowering his head and his hand, Ryoga Hibiki gazed down at the street and canal below, and mentally made his jump before his physical body moved forward, his consciousness already smashing into oblivion. When the regretful words finally fell from his lips, the listening world had to strain to hear them.

"I cannot tear out a single page from my life, but I can throw the whole book into the fire, (*)" he muttered darkly. "Farewell, Akane-san." And with that, he moved forward. Not with a flashy leap or skilled jump. Just with a simple step. And for a moment, he felt the emptiness open up below him and dutifully consigned himself to his lonely fate.

But then, startlingly, arms wrapped around him from behind and he was forcibly yanked back onto the rooftop, away from the edge. Jarred by the sudden intervention, Ryoga’s eyes snapped open and his body tensed against the foreign feel of the embrace, but that shock was nothing compared to the stunning jolt that tassered through him as a quiet serious voice hummed in his ear, panting breath washing over his skin softly.

"Ryoga, you idiot . . . " Ranma muttered, trying desperately to get his frantically pounding heart back in check. "Just what the hell do you think you’re doing?!"

************************

(*)   Ryoga was paraphrasing.  The actual quote is:  "We cannot tear out a single page from our life, but we can throw the whole book into the fire."  -- George Sand (1804 - 1876).  Who knew that Ryoga was familiar with the works of a French novelist, ne?

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