I Enjoy Being a Girl!

Part Seven

"Curse you Ranma!! This is all your fault!!"

Ranma skillfully ducked the rather wild punch that Ryoga threw at him, as the Lost Boy struggled out of his embrace and yanked away, immediate fury coming up in his earthen brown eyes. The pig tailed marital artist sighed inwardly, swiftly backing away from the young man who’s life he had just saved, but deep down he knew that he had fully expected the hostile reaction. A second, more controlled slashing punch followed the first, forcing Ranma into a rolling dodge that barely took him out of the way of the kick that rapid-fired in after him.

"Whoa! Ryoga!" Ranma yelped with irritation as he felt the kick part the air at the back of his head. The Lost Boy wasn’t as skilled with his legs as Ranma was, and it was actually a rather easy matter to reach back and grab his ankle as it went by. A quick twist sent Ryoga into a flip which, although it wasn’t anything he couldn’t quickly recover from, it at least gave Ranma the time to finish his sentence. "Calm down and lemme explain, wouldja?"

Ryoga landed without much effort, crouching for a brief moment before springing into his next attack, recognizing even through the haze of anger that his feet weren’t his best weapon, and repositioning himself to take better advantage of the strength in his arms. "I don’t want to hear anything you have to say, bastard!" he snarled in reply as he moved forward to deliver another series of punches. Slower then Ranma might have been able to, but a challenge to dodge or block just the same.

In fact, Ranma found himself ‘oof’ing as one of those shattering punches slammed hard into his stomach, reminding him of just how strong Ryoga was. He answered with a high rounded kick to the side of the Lost Boy’s head as he twisted away and quickly put some distance between them, dragging the fight out over the rooftop. He landed on a small cement structure that housed the elevator workings for the building and regarded his opponent with well-hidden regret. "Ryoga, man, I ain’t interested in fighting you. If you would just listen to me . . . "

Ranma realized then that asking Ryoga to calm down during a fight was like requesting that an earthquake hold off in the midst of its destruction. And, disturbingly enough, that analogy quickly turned out to be more accurate than Ranma originally supposed. Pulling an enraged yell from his chest, Ryoga attacked the cement structure with his Bakusai Tenketsu, shattering it out from under the pig tailed martial artist. Ranma jumped upwards, barely avoiding the worst of the resulting blast, but finding himself pelted with chips and debris regardless. He quickly batted away the most threatening until he had carried himself out of range, landing in a ready crouch behind Ryoga.

The Lost Boy turned quickly, having ignored all of the debris that hit him. He wasted no time in flying forward with another assault, swiping at his opponent with a chaotic and unpredictable series of punches designed to break bones. Ranma ducked what he could and winced as he blocked everything else, his entire body jarring from the impacts.

"Ryoga, goddamn it!! Knock it off and listen to me a minute!"

"Shut up!" came the spat reply, following on the tail of another punch that had Ranma backing up hastily. "Just shut up! Because of you, I was disloyal to Akane! Because of you, I spoke against her, and now she -hates- me!!"

Ranma ducked, swinging his leg outwards in a kick which caught the back of Ryoga’s unguarded shin and brought the Lost Boy down against the roof hard. Ranma hopped backwards, arms held up and ready to block or hit as needed, but it was clear that the pig tailed martial artist wasn’t putting any more than he had to toward this fight. "Aw cripes, Ryoga! Akane don’t hate you, she was just being her usual insensitive baka self, you should know that by now."

The insult to Akane was a huge mistake. Ranma suddenly found himself the sole target of nearly a dozen whirling bandannas which cut through the air all around him, carried on the backs of high pitched whines. Through he skillfully dodged most of the deadly headgear, several managed to catch him. Two buzz-sawed through his sleeve and the leg of his pants, the third caught him at the chest, neatly slicing open his shirt and pulling an arch of blood in its wake. Hissing at the stinging pain, Ranma crossed his arms over his chest and doubled over slightly, backing away from the hatefully thrown words which came from the Lost Boy next.

"Don’t you EVER insult Akane-san again, you transgendered freak!" Ryoga fumed, shaking his head. Sweat flew from his bangs in shining diamond droplets which caught the last shimmer of the afternoon sun as it was covered by encroaching clouds.

"Never mind Akane right now!" Ranma yelled back, battling to keep his temper at an even keel. Ryoga’s vicious words hurt, but Ranma tried to remind himself that the Lost Boy was caught in a rage and probably not thinking too clearly. "Just listen to -me-, damn it!"

"Go to hell!" Ryoga’s dark dark eyes were narrowed dangerously, hands in tight fists at his sides as he readied himself for another attack, more serious and enraged than Ranma had ever seen him. A sinister battle aura flickered around him, heavy with feelings of illness, fury and depression. "This is the last I can take from you. This is the last injustice. Ranma Saotome . . . " Ryoga’s head lowered and Ranma sensed him tensing to spring forward. "Prepare to die . . . "

When he moved, he was remarkably fast, perhaps faster than Ranma had ever known him to be, and thus the pig tailed martial artist was not entirely ready for the attack. He blocked furiously, fists and arms moving in a blur to meet each punch Ryoga threw, backing rapidly across the rooftop, dangerously teetering with each forced step as he worked to maintain footing and balance. He didn’t want to fight Ryoga, not this time, nor did he want to hurt the furious boy, but as he was pressed across the roof, each blow shaking him to his quick, it occurred to Ranma that actively fighting back and getting serious would probably be in his best interests.

"No one is dyin’ today . . . " Ranma growled, coming to an abrupt stop and bracing himself firmly, his entire demeanor changing as his mind advanced and approved the decision to take the fight seriously. Ryoga halted too, briefly, recognizing the shift even through his anger. A heart-sinking expression of empty defeat came up in his brown eyes as he realized that, up to this point, Ranma had been holding back. The hits he had gotten in . . . nailing him with the bandanna . . . it had all been only because Ranma hadn’t been fighting with everything . . .

"Not me," Ranma continued, leveling a harsh glare at his opponent, simply challenging him to continue the pointless battle now that he knew full well that he couldn’t win. "An’ especially not you! Hear me, Ryoga?!"

Ryoga winced as if struck. Not him? What did Ranma mean by that - not him? It then occurred to the Lost Boy, for the first time since the fight had begun at the edge of the building, with Ranma’s arms wrapped tightly around him from behind, that . . . his rival had saved his life! Ranma had prevented him from willful suicide . . .

Like a sand storm moving swiftly over a desert, disturbingly blind anger swept over the defeat in Ryoga’s expression and he tightened his jaw once again, grounding his feet firmly against the roof of the building and answering Ranma’s glare with one of his own. This would not stand. He could not allow caring! His life was not Ranma’s to be concerned about, and the very thought that the pig tailed boy -was- concerned . . . flew in the face of every grudge and grievance that Ryoga had carefully cultivated and kept smothering for all these years. No, that simply would not do.

Ranma’s eyes widened as Ryoga leapt, strong legs tensing and springing him upwards. Readying a hand at the apex of the jump, the Lost Boy embraced and utilized his falling momentum, a wild yell of "Hiiiiiyaaaaa!" tearing from his throat as he slammed his fist and battle ki into the concrete of the roof. The entire building shuddered and groaned from the impact, and startled office workers as far down as the ground floor looked up in surprise and concern, wondering if they were feeling an earthquake. The material around Ryoga’s fist crumbled and was pulverized into nothing more than a cloud of fine dust, while a ripping fault bisected the concrete, tearing across the surface of the roof in a manner that was almost ridiculous. Cartoon-like. Noisily, the jagged-edged fault upzippered a path which headed straight for Ranma.

Startled, he jumped out of the way just as the crack passed beneath him and exploded against the ledge surrounding the perimeter of the roof, breaking away large chunks of motor and spraying them outwards over the street and canal. Flipping and twisting in midair, Ranma ground his teeth and brought himself down directly behind Ryoga, who was only just straightening from his attack. With a yell of triumph, Ranma quickly slipped his arms under the Lost Boy’s, locked his fingers at the base of his neck, and pulled him off balance, effectively trapping him.

Not surprisingly, Ryoga fought him, twisting this way and that in an effort to free himself from the sudden hold, his strength pressing Ranma’s. Ranma grimaced, teeth still gritted, and held on with every ounce of power he possessed, learning first hand that attempting to contain Ryoga was very much like trying to hold onto an enraged wildcat. The bruises and scratches he would likely be sporting later would certainly attest to that.

"Damn it, Ryoga! Calm down!" Ranma growled, giving his arms a quick snap that was designed to seriously wrench the Lost Boy’s neck. Ryoga barely paused, choosing instead to propel his head backwards in an attempt to slam Ranma’s face. Luckily, the pig tailed martial artist was able to easily avoid the obvious maneuver.

"Let go of me!" Ryoga fumed, feet scrabbling to regain their grounding so that he could flip Ranma. "Curse you! Let go of me!"

"Not until you listen to me, you moron! I wanna tell you that I didn’t mean for all that to happen, I wasn’t tryin’ to pick on you or nuthin’!" Ranma said quickly, hurrying to keep himself balanced as Ryoga tried a new tact and rocked him violently from side to side, trying to throw him off balance. "Argh! Ryoga, hold still and listen to me!!"

"I don’t want to hear your lies, Saotome!" Ryoga spat back, still struggling to break free and growing ever more frustrated and furious when his attempts were for naught. "You were doing just what you always do, using your female body to trick and humiliate me! This was the last time, do you hear me? This is -not- going to happen again!"

Of course, he meant that it wasn’t going to happen again because he was going to kill Ranma now, but the pig tailed martial artist decided to ignore that little detail for the moment and take the threat a different way. Heart pounding in his chest with a sudden onslaught of nervousness that he had never experienced to such a degree before, Ranma leaned forward and put his mouth close to Ryoga’s ear. Just as he had done when in his girl form when, somehow, it had seemed a much easier maneuver to accomplish, and not just because Ryoga hadn’t been fighting him then. This time, there was nothing to hide behind, no ruse to cover his fear or the soft feelings that Ranma was usually loathe to show. This time, it was just he and Ryoga, just as they were, emotions raw and strung tightly.

"Yer right," Ranma agreed, his voice a slightly squeaky rasp which he immediately fought to get under control as his breath washed over Ryoga’s ear, warm and shaky. "It’s -not- gonna to happen again, b’cause I’m laying it all on the line right now, Ryoga. No tricks, no deceptions."

The Lost Boy froze, halted in Ranma’s hold under the influence of that careful whisper tickling against his ear. Eyes widening from the narrow slits they had been fixed into, he drew in a slow lung-full of air that seemed more fueled by unease than by the anger that had been driving him, but fury was still plainly present in his aura. It was obvious to Ranma that one wrong move could easily do more damage than good.

Thus, he chose his next words with more care than he had ever given to anything in his life.

"I like you, Ryoga. Yer my friend, but so much more than that. And I thought that if I was a girl . . . then you’d like me too. It was a mistake, Ryoga, and I’m sorry . . ." Ranma’s voice drifted off gently, but the last word lingered in the Lost Boy’s ear like the final note played by an entire orchestra hangs in the air of an amphitheater. The moment seemed to last for much longer than the normal movement of time could account for, as Ranma’s lips carefully brushed Ryoga’s earlobe, and the latter stared across the ruined rooftop with blank incomprehension, a deep shiver starting in the small of his back and working slowly up his spine.

Then, like so many other potentially great moments, this one was ruined by the arrival of two very irate iinazuke.

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