Masquerade
Waiting, waiting, waiting . . . ({ I’m always waiting for him . . . })
Ranma Saotome stood at the back of the large room, with a perfect view of the entry, heavy storm blue eyes watching as people arrived. They came in singles, couples and occasionally groups, and although everyone was suppose to be costumed and masked, he easily picked out their identities as they walked in. It wasn’t difficult once he got the hang of it. He knew most of the students at Furinkan fairly well, and each one had a distinctiveness that set them apart if one knew what to look for. It could be choice of costume, or perhaps a certain mannerism - a gesture, a tip of the head. Regardless, Ranma recognized each of them, and impatience built within him as the designated hour of arrival wore on and the one he was waiting for did not show.
Though that was hardly surprising.
Ranma frowned to himself, but the expression was hidden by the mask he wore. Knowing how punctual Ryoga Hibiki normally was, he’d weeks ago set out to assure that the Lost Boy make it here tonight, enlisting the aid of one of his more trustworthy of friends. After much cajoling, Ukyo had promised that she would bring the nomadic martial artist, though she hadn’t been terribly keen on the idea. Ranma played the whole situation up to be nothing more than a joke, assuring her that the only reason he wanted Ryoga to attend the school function was for the opportunity to tease him. Though normally the okonomiyaki chef was indifferent to the Lost Boy, she had expressed discomfort in being part of such a scheme, but was willing to do whatever it took to get on Ranma’s good side.
But she hadn’t arrived yet either. Ranma hoped fervently that she hadn’t decided to back out.
More students arrived, and the large high school gym began to fill with music, the rustle of people dancing, and the murmur of conversation. One could hardly tell that the room was a gym, as the decorating committee had absolutely outdone themselves transforming the location into a huge glittering white ballroom. Countless yards of sheer drapes hung in multiple swathes from the ceiling, glowing from the influence of softly colored lights hidden within them. The shop department had managed to design and create authentic-looking gold chandeliers and tall wood and paper white columns, giving a classical feel to the atmosphere. The overall lighting was at once dramatic and sensual, and someone had implemented the clever idea of having a hidden fan gently blow tiny wisps of cotton around, further adding to the surreal effect of the decor.
The look of the room was complemented by the myriad of costumes the students had chosen. In keeping with the classical theme, this year Furinkan High’s Annual Halloween party was a masquerade, and the dress was strictly formal and fancy. No ghosts or goblins or anything of that sort. The students were each dressed in glittering attire; long rustling dresses of ruffles and lace, shimmering tuxedos and traditional kimonos. And each student was required to wear a mask to hide their features, for in a traditional masquerade, no one was suppose to know anyone else’s identity until the unmasking at midnight.
Everything was perfect, and Ranma was terribly pleased with himself. Most of this had been his idea originally, thoughts he had slyly let slip to Akane who was in charge of the planning committee. He was satisfied to let her take the credit for the success of the party, as the gathering itself was not his true goal, only a means to an end. Akane, on the other hand, had been eager to accept his suggestions. Not only because the committee had been originally fishing for ideas, but because she got it into her head that Ranma wanted to put together a romantic and magical evening for the two of them. She had been rather annoyed when Ranma changed into his girl-form before getting into his costume.
Ranma argued that it was simply to lessen the chances of being recognized, as not as many students were familiar with his cursed form. Besides, his costume was a dress, he couldn’t very well wear such a thing when he was a guy. Akane denounced his rationalizations as stupid and transparent, declared him a pervert and left it at that. Which was exactly what Ranma had been hoping she’d do, thus allowing him the space to move freely through the party this evening, without dragging an Akane shadow along with him.
However, his argument was not as invalid as Akane thought. Ranma was indeed in girl-form so that his chances of being recognized were lessened, but it was not the general population of Furinkan that he was concerned about. It was one person in particular, the one person who always seemed oblivious of his girl form and wouldn’t be too likely to recognize him, especially when he was in costume. It was for Ryoga that Ranma had hatched this entire plan.
For the nomadic young man whom Ranma loved, but could never tell . . .
Waiting, waiting, waiting . . . frustrated nervousness began to pluck at Ranma’s stomach.
People passed as he continued to watch the door, nodding greetings which he returned absently. Not many seemed to recognize him, as only a couple called him by name, and that was encouraging. Ranma had chosen his costume to be as un-like his usual self as possible, though there was still something about it that rather appealed to him.
The entire outfit was gold and green, the two colors dancing around each other sinuously down the length of a long shimmering gown which flowed to the floor and was filled out by hoops and stays that Ranma found rather annoying. They gave the effect that he wanted, however, granting him a very classical bell-shape and emphasizing his slender waist. The top was tight, with corset laces and trimmed in gold filigree accented by faux-emeralds. The shoulders of the dress where puffed and decorated with delicate hanging baubles, slimming down into long tight sleeves that were refined and elegant. Ranma had let his red hair loose, but had drawn some of its length up into plaits and sweeps, holding it in place with a transparent netting that was ornamented with sparkling green gems. Ribbons strung through her locks completed the truly amazing effect and Ranma had to admit that he looked awesome.
His mask was long an elegant, a tapering stylized feminine dragon-head of shimmering jade green with red stripping. Two spiraled horns rose from the top of the mask, and Ranma’s dark blue eyes peered out from small holes just beneath the iridescent golden jewels meant to represent the dragon’s eyes.
Yes, the effect was incredible, but it would be completely wasted if Ryoga didn’t show up.
({ It’s gett’n late . . . where is he? })
Ranma sighed to himself, shifting his position slightly. The little gold boots he was wearing were slightly uncomfortable, but he was willing to live with it as long as he got the chance he was hoping this evening would grant him.
It had taken his secret heart a long time to admit it to himself, but Ranma loved Ryoga. Loved him. Wanted him. Craved him. The wild Lost Boy represented a certain freedom to Ranma, a untamed quality which he himself no longer possessed, despite his name. Ranma was tied down to iinazauke and dojo, he would never be able to truly grasp that elusive . . . something . . . that was Ryoga. And chained to his responsibilities as he was, Ranma knew that he could never reveal his true sexual orientation. He was gay, and Ryoga was the one that he desired above all others.
But he wanted . . . he wanted just this one chance to show the wandering martial artist how he felt, whether Ryoga actually realized that it was him or not. Just once, Ranma wanted to show the emotions he was actually harboring, rather than the shell everyone had come to expect from him. Once he had that chance, then perhaps things could return to normal and he would be satisfied with settling down into sharing a life with Akane. He would have this memory of his one uninhibited night to carry with him, and hopefully that would sustain him.
The unmasking at midnight . . . the traditional kiss . . .
But, if the object of his desire didn’t show . . . ({ Damn that baka . . . })
Ranma perked suddenly as he saw Ukyo come through the door, stopping briefly to present her ticket to the attendants.
She wasn’t difficult to spot, dressed as she was in a stylized tuxedo of black and dark blue, hair drawn back into a pony tail, and wearing shiny black calf boots. The elegant outfit looked very nice on her, and was obviously reflective of her masculine personality. She wore a simple eye mask, trimmed with glittering blue sequins, which left the lower half of her face uncovered, and Ranma could see her smile slightly in greeting to some people who recognized her. She waved at someone and moved gracefully into the room, quickly disappearing among the dancers.
Ranma let her go, his attention on the door, waiting. Anticipation stronger than any fight lust he’d ever known drummed inside his head. No one arrived for a long slow moment and his impatience threatened to overwhelm him. Ukyo had promised! Now where the hell was Ryoga?!
Disappointment nearly shattered him when the next group arrived and it was plainly obvious that none among them were the boy Ranma was waiting for.
He drew in a breath to calm himself, trying not to give into the frustrated anger that was quickly building. Setting his jaw tightly, he slipped across the floor, darting easily between sweeping dresses and gracefully moving dancers, heading directly for Ukyo. She stood to one side, beneath a swathe of blue-lit material, talking with some friends. She eeped softly as Ranma nabbed her by the arm and drew her aside for a private word.
"Where is he?" Ranma hissed through his mask, his feminine voice sounding slightly more shrill than he’d intended. He cleared his throat and tried again, trying to seem a bit less upset. "Ucchan, you told me that you’d bring him," he said accusingly.
She peered at him for a moment, blue eyes traveling down the length of his outfit with a twinkle of curiosity that quickly turned into one of appreciation. "Ran-chan, is that you? Wow! You look spectacular!"
Ranma resisted the urge to let himself be complimented. "Never mind that, Ukyo. Where’s Ryoga?"
"Ryoga?" She seemed momentarily at a loss, and Ranma vehemently hoped that she hadn’t simply forgotten to ask the Lost Boy along. To have his plans ruined by so stupid and simple a mistake . . .
"Yes! Ryoga!"
Ukyo’s expression seemed to soften a bit behind her mask. "Oh yeah. Well, I asked him the last time I saw him, about a week ago, but he just wasn’t interested, Ranma. He said that he really doesn’t belong at a party like this. I even tempted him by reminding him that Akane would be here, but he still didn’t want to come. Sorry Ran-chan, but he would have gotten suspicious if I had insisted."
Ranma blinked and sighed softly. He let go of Ukyo’s arm, his hopes dashed. Well, of course. He should have realized that this sort of thing wouldn’t appeal to Ryoga. The wandering martial artist wasn’t very gregarious in the first place, and as soon as he heard this was a formal affair, he’d be immediately turned off to it, despite the lure of being in a social setting with Akane. No, this entire thing had been -Ranma’s- fantasy, and his alone, and he hadn’t even stopped to think that his carefully laid plans would not be a captivating lure to Ryoga in the least.
Ranma was glad that he was wearing a mask, so no one would be able to see how bitterly disappointed he was.
"I think it’s really for the best, Ran-chan," Ukyo was continuing. "You shouldn’t be picking on him all the time in the first place. He would have just gotten mad and instigated a fight, and between the two of you this party would be in shambles within a matter of minutes. Then Akane-chan would have killed you both."
He had to admit that she was right. If Ryoga had recognized Ranma, he would have been quick to retaliate, and once the directionally challenged young man got hot into a serious fight, there was little hope of stopping him. Massive property damage was a traditional hallmark of their altercations, and it was a sure bet that Akane would let neither of them escape unscathed if they ruined her function.
Okay, so perhaps Ranma hadn’t exactly thought this entire thing through as carefully as he should have. He sighed again, frowning sadly behind his mask.. "Yeah," he muttered. "You’re right."
He glanced up at Ukyo again, however, a stray thought sticking in his head. "Well, if you weren’t bringing Ryoga, then how come you’re so late?"
"I had some things to take care of," she replied evasively, then quickly moved forward to catch up his hand. "C’mon Ran-chan, let’s dance!" Not giving him the opportunity to protest, she led him out onto the glitter-strewn floor.
"Dance?" Ranma whined. "I don’t wanna - - - "
As it turned out, the young man was forced to quickly adopt his customary I-don’t-care attitude for the duration of the evening. Despite being in his girl-form, Ranma was very much in demand as a dance partner by both male and female alike. He supposed that was all right, as it took his mind off the disaster his perfectly laid plan had turned into. Deciding that if he couldn’t have the one he wanted, then he would drown himself in everyone he did not want, Ranma dived into the party wholeheartedly. Much to Akane and Ukyo’s apparent chagrin, he made it a point to dance with every available girl that he could find. And when he ran out of females to impress, he moved onto the men.
Everyone who recognized him saw Ranma as his usual self. On the inside, he was silently mourning his failed opportunity.
The night wore on slowly, but as the midnight hour approached, Ranma made a point of avoiding the dance floor. Not only was he attempting to stay beneath Tatewaki Kuno’s notice, but he simply was not interested in being present for the traditional unmasking. It would give him no pleasure now that he knew Ryoga was not coming. Ranma had planned to dance and flirt with Ryoga as much as possible throughout the evening, leading the Lost Boy blissfully up to the moment of unmasking. Whether Ryoga would recognize him or not was debatable, but Ranma had fully intended to plant a kiss on the young man’s lips.
In fact, he’d been secretly harboring a wonderful dream of that moment, cultivating it for the several long weeks of Akane’s planning of this event. In Ranma’s fantasy, Ryoga would be shocked, of course, and perhaps rather angry at first; but then he would sweep Ranma into his arms and return the kiss with abandon. Perhaps that kiss would even lead to more, and thoughts of exactly where that path might take them made Ranma positively shiver.
Yes, he knew how completely unlikely his wistful little dream was, but it was nice to think about regardless.
If only he’d planned this more carefully!
Sighing hard, Ranma let his back hit the wall jarringly. He’d retreated to an isolated spot at the edge of the room, hoping to escape detection once midnight hit. He sensed Akane was still hoping for something romantic to happen between them, judging by the looks she’d been directing towards him whenever he danced with Ukyo, and though he knew he should honor his obligations and deliver, he simply couldn’t bring himself to do it. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her . . . she was a good friend most of the time, and he could even be tolerant of her temper if he had to. It was just . . . well, she wasn’t the one he wanted.
He wanted Ryoga.
({ Damn it all to hell. })
It was almost midnight. The DJ at the far end of the gym announced its imminent arrival and suggested that everyone find the partner that they wished to unmask, giving the gathered students time to mill around before he played the final song. Ranma crossed his arms, shutting his eyes briefly behind his dragon face. He should just leave now, slip out before Akane or Ukyo caught him. Gathering his unhappiness up into a hurt ball within him, Ranma opened his eyes and prepared to make a dash for the nearest exit.
He took a couple of steps forward before actually looking up, and ran directly into a young man who was standing right in front of him.
"Sorry buddy, I was just leaving . . . " Ranma trailed off as he glanced up at the stranger, quickly reflecting on the fact that he hadn’t noticed this particular student arriving earlier. He certainly wouldn’t have forgotten this one.
The costume was slightly different, more exotic and untamed, than most of the usual fare at the party this evening. Form-fitting black spandex pants with just a touch of shimmer to the material disappeared into black calf boots below, and under a stylized tuxedo above. The coat was also black and tight, with rather large lapels that did not match in size or positioning, giving a rather rakish feel to the outfit. They were ornamented by onyx gems, almost invisible save for their glittering, which also trimmed down the length of the tight sleeves, and along the bottom edge of the coat. He wore tight black leather gloves and cuffs, dotted with short metal spikes.
That effect was repeated around the young man’s slender waist, leather bands held the coat closed and were adorned with metal rings and short chains. Down the front of his chest, a ruff of fur could be seen, looking soft and subdued in shades of buff, tawny and smoky black. Up around his neck, the fur shifted into a more silvery color, presumably to match his grey and black frosted hair.
His mask covered his entire face, a smoothly furred canine head with large ears, a narrow black nose and whiskers. A golden ring was pierced through the left ear, which actually gave the impression of being rather tattered, and yellow topazes formed the eyes of the mask. The entire outfit had a look of wildness and seasoned rebellion to it.
Ranma stared, wondering for a long moment. ({ A . . . a coyote . . . ? }) And once he had decided that, it was the small dark holes beneath the twin topazes that drew Ranma’s breathless attention. Within those openings, he could just make out the sparkling of two dark brown eyes that he was certain he recognized.
Almost certain . . . no . . . it couldn’t be . . . but the costume - how completely like the Lost Boy . . .
"Where are you going? It’s not midnight yet." the Coyote asked, voice low and slightly distorted by the mask. Ranma blinked, trying to decide if it really belonged to his secret desire or not. He couldn’t quite make up his mind. Regardless, this coyote was extremely captivating, which confirmed his identity in Ranma’s heart. Only Ryoga could inspire such a feeling in him.
"I have no reason to stay," Ranma replied, holding his hand out to the young man, hoping hoping hoping that he would take it and get the hint.
"Yes, you do," This time, the voice was definitely Ryoga’s, low and quiet with just a touch of nervous anticipation lacing its tones. He took Ranma’s hand and led him onto the dance floor.
The only thing going through Ranma’s head as they passed between couples, heading to the center of the floor, was that sometimes dreams really -did- come true.
They arrived just in time, as the DJ announced the approach of midnight and the lighting was changing to reflect the mood of the final song. All lights were lowered, including the colored ones highlighting the swoops of material. Several soft spots came on, casting gentle circles against the glittering floor, and it just so happened that one of these spots fell across Ranma and Ryoga. Small shimmers of light, from a mirrored ball hidden high towards the ceiling, splashed all throughout the room and began to slowly spin.
The first gentle music-box strains of the music began, the chords causing Ranma to shiver. This was the song he had chosen, and now he was in Ryoga’s arms. The coyote-boy snaked one hand around Ranma’s slender waist and gripped his fingers with his other hand. If he was the least bit nervous, it did not show through the mask, and Ranma had to marvel at that. That was completely out of character for the Lost Boy. As the beat of the music began, Ryoga nudged him into moving, fitting them smoothly into a steady turning waltz-step.
~There's such a sad love
~Deep in your eyes, a kind of pale jewel
~Open and closed within your eyes
~I'll place the sky within your eyes
~There's such a fooled heart
~Beating so fast in search of new dreams
~A love that will last within your heart
~I'll place the moon within your heart
Ranma’s heart was beating hard as he stared up at the mask Ryoga wore, occasionally spotting the glimmer of his true eyes in the dark openings below the topazes. Ryoga squeezed his hand in response, fingers tightening on Ranma’s waist, and the feel of the air around him gave the impression that the Lost Boy was smiling slightly. His movements were remarkably graceful, as if he had been trained for such dancing, but the sure placement of his feet and confidence with which he led them in a slow ruffling circle held familiarity to Ranma. It was as though they were sparring, but this time it was a fight in which they moved as one against the rest of the world.
Ranma gasped lightly as Ryoga unexpectedly dipped them slightly with a sudden forward placement of his right foot, laying him back and bringing him up again almost immediately.
~As the pain sweeps through
~Makes no sense for you
~Every thrill has gone
~Wasn't too much fun at all
~But I'll be there for you-oo-oo
~As the world falls down
~Falling
~(As the world) Falling down
~Falling in love
Ranma drew closer, giving up all pretenses of maintaining polite and proper distance. He pressed himself in against Ryoga’s chest, nuzzled his masked face in the tawny fur. Ryoga did not falter in the dance, but adjusted for the new position, continuing their lazy waltzing circles with a fluidity and grace that took Ranma’s breath away.
Peripherally aware of the other bodies dancing close, other couples moving gracefully in a uneven circle around the soft spot that belonged to Ranma and Ryoga alone, the boy-turned-girl let his eyes fall into focus, and was mildly surprised to recognize one of the couples nearby. Ukyo was dancing with Akane, who had dressed in a scarlet and gold Juliet-esque gown. The two girls moved together as superbly as Ranma did with Ryoga, complimenting each other nicely.
Ranma shut his eyes briefly, swallowing down the promise of future pain that this night was certain to visit upon him. This had been a very stupid idea, and even as Ranma adored the feeling of being in Ryoga’s arms, he also cursed it. Once the night was over, everything had to return to normal. He would have to settle into the idea of marrying Akane and Ryoga would be nothing more than his rival again. Ranma had foolishly thought that he could handle that eventuality - that as long as he had this night, he would be able to face whatever happened.
But he was wrong! How could he let go of Ryoga now? Now that the wandering martial artist had somehow sensed his fantasy and made it come true? Now that he had been given such a magical gift?
~I'll paint you mornings of gold
~I'll spin you Valentine evenings
~Though we're strangers till now
~We're choosing the path between the stars
~I'll leave my love between the stars
~As the pain sweeps through
~Makes no sense for you
~Every thrill has gone
~Wasn't too much fun at all
~But I'll be there for you-oo-oo
~As the world falls down
Ranma glanced up in surprise as he felt a gentle vibration in Ryoga’s chest and heard a soft low tone hesitantly whispered beneath the music. Ryoga was singing! In soft sensuous tones that only Ranma was close enough to hear, the Lost Boy was following the words of the music, and his smooth mellow voice fit the song beautifully. As they continued their perfect movements, Ranma joined him, her light whispered feminine voice joining Ryoga in the repeated promise of the final words of the song.
~(As the world) Falling down
~Falling
~As the world falls down
~Falling
~Falling
~Falling
~Falling in love
~As the world falls down
~(down) Falling
~Falling
~Falling
~Falling in love
~As the world falls down
Ryoga swept them masterfully into the brief instrumental portion of the song, causing Ranma’s heart to soar unimaginably. Everything in Ranma’s reality narrowed down into little more than sound and movement. The rustling of her dress, the glittering of the thrown reflected bits of light, the sound of Ryoga’s hypotonic voice as he whispered out the words of the song, the soft bits of fallen cotton that came to rest in his silvery hair . . .
({ I can’t believe . . . I can’t believe that he would do this for me . . . })
~Falling
~Falling
~Falling
~Makes no sense at all
~Makes no sense to fall
~Falling
~As the world falls down
~Falling
~Falling
~Falling in love
~As the world falls down
~(down) Falling
~Falling
~Falling in love
When the final chords of the song faded, a toiling bell took up the beat, announcing the arrival of midnight. Everyone on the dance floor froze, as this was a moment of revelation for many of them. Who had they danced with this evening? Who was that entrancing person in the fancy mask that had so captured their attention?
Ranma did not have to wonder, for he knew Ryoga as certainly as he knew himself. But the anticipation was there just the same. As the booming chime continued to beat off the seconds, Ranma reached up to take the edge of Ryoga’s mask in her fingers.
The nomadic young man stopped him, wrapping Ranma’s hand in his own and squeezing lightly. He glanced around at the other dancers and Ranma felt him shiver. There at last was Ryoga’s more characteristic nervous shyness, and Ranma nodded sympathetically. Gripping his fingers, he turned and led them between the other couples, sliding quickly over the glittering dance floor. Ryoga followed willingly, and within several beats of the chime, Ranma had pulled his partner out into one of the deserted hallways of Furinkan High School.
It was dark, but a cool silvery glow from the full moon was shimmering through the windows of the hall, and they could still plainly hear the toiling bell from the gym. Ranma turned to Ryoga, and this time he was allowed to grasp the edge of the coyote-face mask. In return, Ryoga reached down and laid gentle fingers on the dragon mask and the two of them froze for a long second, staring at each other and waiting for the final bell of midnight.
It seemed like an eternity passed before that last ring, but Ranma didn’t mind the small moment of forever. This would all be over soon enough, and he was not looking forward to that. But when the last announcement of midnight finally chimed and faded away into nothingness, he slowly lifted Ryoga’s mask, closing his heavy blue eyes as Ryoga lifted his in return. He shivered, because the young man’s free hand immediately found his cheek, and his warm fingers tingled against Ranma’s pale smooth skin. The fresh air felt wonderful and cooling against his face, and he opened his eyes to meet Ryoga’s.
The nomadic martial artist looked hot from being behind his fur mask, but his dark liquid eyes were sparkling warmly, a touch of love and hesitant anticipation adding the perfect touch to those brown depths. As if he couldn’t trust himself to say anything, Ryoga remained silent, but leaned forward, fingers tightening on Ranma’s small face, and gently pressed their lips together.
Ranma saw Ryoga’s eyes shut, thick black lashes falling softly against his cheeks, the moment before he closed his own. The only thing that was important was the feel of the Lost Boy’s warm lips on his and the closeness of the air between their costumed bodies. A misplaced and unexpected flush whispered up through Ranma’s female form as they kissed, startling him with its immediate intensity. This was beyond what he had hoped for, truly! And he had intended to be the one doing the kissing. Having the tables turned in such a way was at once frightening and exciting. How had Ryoga known? How?
({ Ryoga . . . I wouldn’t a’ expected this from you . . . damn, but please don’t stop now! })
The Lost Boy carefully forced Ranma’s mouth open, his tongue invading and encountering no resistance. Overwhelmed, Ranma pressed in closer, and hopped up, wrapping his arms around Ryoga’s neck and pulling him down to deepen the exchange. He heard Ryoga mrfle softly in surprise, but the kiss did indeed strengthen in both intensity and forcefulness. The coyote slipped his arms around Ranma’s waist and back, and pulled him up, lifting him off his feet.
Somewhere else, the continued sounds of the masquerade dance continued unnoticed.
When they were forced to break for air, Ryoga was still supporting Ranma’s slender form with the considerable strength of his arms. Ranma blinked his eyes open and smiled rather dreamily at the expression of ruffled smugness on Ryoga’s handsome rounded face.
"How?" Ranma whispered. "How did you know?"
"I’m not blind, Ranma-chan," Ryoga replied, his voice heavy with breathlessness. "I have seen the way you look at me. I guess you’ve just not caught me looking back."
"Uhh . . . " Ranma blinked, trying to process that. Ryoga didn’t give him the time, however. He leaned down a bit and gently kissed Ranma again, first on the mouth, then along his cheek, warm breath whispering against skin.
"And I meant every word of that song, Ranma," Ryoga muttered between kisses. "No matter what happens after tonight, I will always be there for you."
The words comforted and hurt at the same time. Ranma squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, turning his head away. Undaunted, Ryoga simply continued to kiss where he could, strong hands holding firmly to Ranma’s back and shoulder.
"Ryoga . . . " Ranma began hesitantly. "You know . . . you know how things are. I’m gonna hafta marry Akane . . . "
"Yes," Ryoga nodded, his deep eyes flashing momentarily. "I know that. And I will still be there for you. Whenever you need me."
Ranma was overwhelmed. He opened his eyes again and stared into Ryoga’s, searching for and finding the truth behind Ryoga’s words. This was far more than he’d ever dreamed. Far far more . . .
"I mean it, Ranma," Ryoga assured quietly. "Whatever happens . . . well, it’ll happen. But I’ll stand behind you, ready to catch you, no matter what. I’ll do everything for you . . . if only you’ll love me."
Biting back tears of bewildered shock, Ranma nodded mutely. Ryoga took this as the consent it was and sealed it with another kiss, the contact electric with passion and desire. The intensity of it lit them both up, and Ranma found himself mentally reeling. Was this all some wonderful variation on his normal fantasy? Was he actually asleep on his pallet at the Tendo’s only dreaming of this perfect fantastic moment? If he was, then Ranma fervently prayed that he not wake up.
Ryoga suddenly moved forward slightly and swept an arm behind Ranma’s legs, neatly flipping the girl-form up into his arms, like a groom carrying a bride over a threshold. Ranma yelped in pleasant surprise and there was a bit of a problem as the hoops of her skirt sprang up and nearly hit Ryoga in the head, but Ranma was quick to smooth the annoyance down, chuckling as he did so. The pain and doubt was forgotten for the moment, lost amidst a warm sea of contentedness.
He slipped his arms around Ryoga’s neck and buried his fingers in the uneven lengths of the Lost Boy’s hair. It was strange to see those normally dark locks with a silvery sheen to them, but Ranma had to admit that the exotic look was rather appealing. "Where’re you taking me?" Ranma asked, a thrill racing through his body as Ryoga’s arms closed around him.
"To the nearest source of hot water," Ryoga explained a bit breathlessly, squirming slightly at the feel of Ranma’s hands in his hair. "I mean, no offense Ranma, you make a very beautiful girl, but I much prefer your male body."
Ranma laughed in surprise, pleased, and gestured up the hallway. "Teacher’s lounge," he directed. "And there’s a couch in there, too."
Ryoga blushed a deep pink color, but his hold on Ranma tightened. "C - couch? . . . O - okay . . . " he agreed and started up the hall, following Ranma’s gestures.
Just as they disappeared around the corner, the door to the gym cracked open and two girls peeked out in time to see them leave. They glanced at each other meaningfully, blue eyes meeting brown ones for a brief moment before they each broke into a smile.
"That was sweet," Ukyo decided, opening the door a bit wider and stepping into the hallway. "I knew that Ryoga could be very romantic if he put his mind to it."
"Well, it sure took long enough for us to convince him that Ranma wouldn’t try to kill him," Akane grumbled, though her tone was good-natured. "And for awhile I was afraid that he wasn’t going to show up. He cut it awfully close."
"The point is - he did make it and hopefully he’ll help Ranma get his mind off this silly obligation he thinks he has toward you," Ukyo twinkled as she laid a hand on the red velvet shoulder of Akane’s long elegant gown. "Now, only one question remains," she purred softly.
Akane looked up at the masculinely attired girl and her own expression softened. "And that is - ?"
Ukyo winked. "Do you and I return to the party for another dance, or do we go back to my place for something a little more private?"
The short-haired girl smirked, poking her partner playfully. "I think you already know the answer to that, Ucchan."
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"As the World Falls Down" (c) 1986 Jones Music and Labyrinth Enterprises, David Bowe.