Chapter 11. Hurtful Words

Ranma was walking home from Tofu's clinic on the Saturday after their return from the beach, one hand in his pocket touching his latest paycheck. He hurried his steps, knowing that Ryoga was due to arrive shortly to spar with Akane and himself. This would be the first time they had seen Ryoga since they'd bumped into him before the vacation trip, when he and the girls were shopping for swimsuits. It was also the first time Ryoga would be at the Tendo home since the night his curse had been discovered.

Ranma was looking forward to the sparring session, but he couldn't stay focused on it. His thoughts kept returning to the previous evening. He and Akane had been on another date, at a movie this time. They had started out holding hands in the dark theater, and ended with Ranma's arm around her, the two of them leaning against one another.

It was a pity that Kuno just had to show up, accosting them on the way home and purposefully splashing in a puddle to change Ranma into a girl. Akane had shrieked in outrage, pummeled the boy, and left him sprawled unconscious in the middle of a neighbor's rosebush. Bearing his female body in mind, Ranma had tried to simply walk beside Akane the rest of the way home, but she had insisted on taking his hand and holding it anyway.

His mind slipped back in time even further, to the afternoon before their date. Necessarily, he and Mitaka-sensei discussed everything which had happened during the vacation. After his confession that he and Akane had gone on a real date, they had spent considerable time discussing his feelings about that and the current state of his relationship with Akane. He knew that Akane had discussed similar things during her session, since she had told him a little bit about it later.

Finally he thought about the sign language class that morning. He, Akane and Kasumi were finally reaching the point where they could begin to hold simple conversations, with Ranma signing his part. It would be good to use the pad less, although ...

Ranma paused and thought a little more about that. He had decided a long time ago that there was at least one advantage to the pad. He knew that he had always had a smart mouth; it had gotten him into trouble more times than he was comfortable remembering. Having to think before he spoke — wrote, whatever — meant that he was far less inclined to say something stupid, only to regret it after the words were already out. He didn't want to risk screwing things up with Akane. Silently, he made a solemn promise to himself, that he would always stop and think before saying anything, whether it was with his pad or by signing. Looking inward, wondering if any higher being might be listening, he thought, ‹If you'll please, just please let me talk again, I even promise I'll always think about what I'm gonna say before I open my mouth.›

He made one stop along the way to cash his paycheck, depositing half into his bank account and pocketing the other half. This had been his practice since he started the job with Tofu, although to be fair it had been Kasumi who suggested that he save a portion of what he earned. Most of his own past experience with money involved his pop's philosophy that anything Ranma earned belonged to them both and should be spent immediately, mostly to satisfy Genma's hunger.

The boy shook his head, pushing his absent father from his thoughts. Each visit to the bank brought a feeling of satisfaction at seeing the total slowly accumulate, even though he knew that it was only a small amount in absolute terms. Certainly nowhere near enough to support him independently. Sometimes Ranma felt rather bad when he thought about how much the Tendos did for him, giving him a place to live, food to eat, paying the fees for school and his sessions with Mitaka-sensei. But he was unable to see what else he could do, realistically, so usually ended up telling himself that he'd try to pay them back someday.

As he ran into the house, Ranma saw that Akane was getting another lesson in cooking from her sister Kasumi. He nearly turned around and bolted out of the house. She only got up the courage to make such attempts about once per month, but the last two times had been eye-opening experiences. Stomach-turning as well. Perhaps he could pretend he had an upset stomach, and ask for only rice and weak tea?

The young martial artist tried to sneak past the kitchen, but to no avail.

“Ranma!” Akane caroled cheerfully. “I made some cookies. Would you like to try one?”

Ranma briefly wondered if he could get away with answering, “No.” The look Akane gave him was eager, hopeful and nervous, all mixed together. The boy started making signs to indicate that his stomach was feeling bad, but Akane's lip started quivering and his shoulders slumped. With measured tread he walked forward and sat at the table, eyeing the plate of gray-green cookies dubiously. Kasumi placed a large glass of milk in front of him.

He picked up a cookie and examined it closely, slowly turning it from side to side. It appeared to have been cooked all the way through and there was nothing obviously wrong, aside from the unusual color. As Akane's eye started to twitch, Ranma stopped putting off the inevitable, and bit off half of the cookie.

He started pounding his fist on the table, before grabbing his glass and drinking off most of the milk. Why the hell had she added wasabi to cookies? Let alone in so large an amount. Also, he was certain that she had used a cup of salt where the recipe must have called for a cup of sugar. He shuddered, trying to forget the taste by force of will.

“There's no need to be so melodramatic,” Akane told him angrily. “They can't be that bad!” With that she grabbed one of the cookies and stuffed it into her mouth, just to prove it to him.

Thankfully, Kasumi had left the carton of milk on the table. Akane grabbed it and poured it down her throat, though she restrained herself from banging her fist on the table as Ranma had done. When she put the carton back down, Akane turned sheepish eyes on the boy and admitted, “I guess they ... weren't as good as I hoped. I wonder what I did wrong?”

“Salt is not same as sugar,” Ranma signed.

“But I did put in sugar,” Akane complained.

Ranma puffed out a little breath. He then signed, “Point to sugar.”

Akane pointed to a blue container. “I'm afraid that's the salt, little sister,” Kasumi noted reluctantly. “The sugar is in this larger brown container.” Turning to the young man, Kasumi apologized. “I'm sorry, Ranma-kun. I must have looked away for a moment.”

Ranma shrugged. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as the first time. No one had thought to warn him that night, and he had violated his mouth with a large serving. After running from the table in order to spit it out, he had been ill for the rest of that night.

Ranma's hands signed, “Why wasabi?”

Akane blinked. “But you said you liked spicy food! Remember? A couple of nights ago? When Kasumi made curry?”

Ranma looked helplessly at the innocent expression on her face. He managed to pass over a couple of idiotic responses, before arriving at the safer, “Spicy is good for curry. Not so good for cookies. Or not so much.”

Akane looked at the plate of cookies with determination. “I'll get it right one of these times.” Ranma swallowed heavily, wondering if he could convince Kasumi to give him advance warning of the next occasion, so that he could disappear from the house on an extended errand.

Any further thoughts about the cookies were interrupted by the ringing of the bell. Realizing that Ryoga must have arrived, Akane tossed her apron aside, and both she and Ranma went to the front door. As expected, Ryoga was standing there, bandanna on his head and carrying an umbrella, but without the huge pack worn on previous occasions. He also looked nervous, but some of that cleared up on seeing their faces.

“Oh, good!” Ryoga exclaimed in relief. “This is the right place. I didn't really recognize it in daylight.”

Akane's eyebrows drew together at this reminder of the last time Ryoga was here, but she forbore to say anything. Ranma held a hand out toward the side of the house, indicating that they should proceed in that direction. Stepping around the corner of the house, the three of them walked across the lawn and into the dojo, where Ryoga paused to take an appreciative look around him.

Ranma walked inside a little further, then turned and faced Ryoga. He signed to Akane, “I'll go first. Then you can have a turn.”

Akane turned to Ryoga to translate. “Ranma says that he'll fight you first, then it'll be my turn.” She paused, then added on her own account, “Another thing — no thrown weapons in the dojo. If you want to fight that way, you can wait and do so sometime when you're out in a larger open space.”

Ryoga nodded his acceptance, realizing that Akane would not want her dojo to be damaged, then reinforced the nod with a shrug and a nonchalant, “Yeah, sure.” He laid his umbrella to one side of the door, and resolved to leave his bandannas on his head and his belt around his waist. He took his place, facing Ranma, and raised his fists to a ready position. His therapist might have brought him to the point of admitting that maybe, just maybe, Ranma wasn't to blame for all of his troubles, but Ryoga was still looking forward to a little stress relief.

Akane watched the ensuing bout with interest. Ranma flowed around Ryoga's strikes like smoke, dodging many and using minor deflections to make most of the rest miss, while landing a continuous barrage of rapid fire bursts which staggered but never quite felled the lost boy. Every now and then Ranma would miscalculate by a fraction and one of Ryoga's blows would send him flying through the air to slam against he far wall of the dojo. But each time Ranma bounced right back, eager and determined to return to the match. The ceaseless pounding was clearly taking its toll on Ryoga, as the precision of his attacks began to suffer.

Although Akane had long since come to the reluctant conclusion that Ranma held back when he sparred with her, she was now forced to realize with a deepening sense of chagrin that he must have been holding back even more than she realized. She felt a familiar rush of anger at the thought but then caught her breath, annoyed at the automatic reaction. An image of her counselor formed in Akane's imagination, frowning over the brief flash of temper, causing the girl to look down in embarrassment. She transmuted the thought of pounding her boyfriend for treating her too delicately into a fierce desire to become good enough, eventually, to pound him in a fair fight.

Ranma was having the time of his life. True, some of those punches hurt like hell, but he was accustomed to that from a lifetime of training. Akane was very good, and rapidly getting better, but it was going to take at least another several months of his intensive training before she could give him as good a workout as Ryoga was doing right now. Ranma wondered if either of the other two realized just how much he was holding back in this fight, as he gave more concentration to wearing Ryoga down before Akane's turn.

The one point of regret for Ranma was that he couldn't shout insults at his opponent. Sparring against a rival like Ryoga felt incomplete when verbal assaults were not traded as well, though there was little to be done about it. A properly timed insult could be the deciding factor in a fight, pushing one's opponent just enough off balance to get in the winning blow, and it was a skill in which Ranma had been trained from a young age. For a moment he considered pulling out his pad and writing some insults while dodging blows, but had a vague idea that Akane might not approve.

Ranma allowed Ryoga to throw him across the dojo, giving himself a chance to massage a little life back into an elbow which had connected with what felt like a jawbone made of iron. As he dove back into the fray, their guest gave him a small opening which was just too good to resist. Consequently, Ryoga found himself flying across the dojo from a kick to his gut which might as well have been delivered by a mule. He tried unsuccessfully to drag air into his lungs, and despairingly watched the world dim around him.

A moment later Ryoga regained his senses, spluttering, shaking water out of his eyes. Consciousness roared back as it struck him that he was still human, despite the feel of water on his face. “What? What? But that was water. Why am I still ... me?” He managed to sit up, looking a bit dazed.

Akane answered, “It was hot water. Well, warm, really. We always keep some on hand in the dojo when we're sparring, because of Ranma's own curse. We started when he half knocked himself out on the ceiling trying a new variation on one of his kata, and I tossed some cold water on him from a water bottle.”

“Oh.” Ryoga nodded, glad that he wasn't hallucinating, at least. He started to struggle to his feet. “So, uh, your turn now, huh?”

Ranma reached out and pushed him back down, making a couple of signs. Akane didn't bother to translate the insult, using her own words instead. “You were just knocked out, Ryoga! At least make sure that you're fully awake again. Besides, you just had a hard workout with Ranma. Take a few minutes to rest.”

Ryoga hesitated, but then sighed his agreement. He let himself slide into a sitting position, leaning his back against a wall. He eyed Ranma with disgust; the jackass was bouncing around doing a kata, as if he weren't tired at all. Just showing off, though, as Ryoga's trained eye could detect small signs of fatigue. He turned away from the sight, trying to think of something to say to pass the next few minutes.

“Um, I, uh, don't think I've said it before, but ... you know ... I'm sorry ... about that night. I, uh, didn't mean to do what I did.” His face was turning bright red. “I was only trying to piss off Ranma. I guess it was kinda shortsighted not to realize I ... shouldn't have been doing that to you.” His eyes were firmly on the floor.

“Your behavior was completely out of line, Hibiki-san,” Akane said sternly. “Whatever your complaint with Ranma, justified or not, was no excuse to act like that.”

Ryoga nodded miserably.

Akane went on. “Please don't think I have forgiven you for it, because I haven't. I'm tolerating your presence for two reasons. First, I want Ranma to be able to spar occasionally with someone he's willing to fight at full strength. Second, you are seeing a therapist, and I am hoping that this will correct some of your ... less appropriate behavior.”

“I'm trying,” Ryoga whispered.

Akane nodded. She turned and watched Ranma jumping off of the walls, allowing a tender smile to curve her lips.

Ryoga cleared his throat. “So tell me. Are you and Ranma ... a couple?”

Akane spun around, drawing herself up to deliver a blistering denial, but even as the words trembled on her lips she deflated, nodding her head. In a small, hesitant voice, she admitted, “Yes. But it's still pretty recent. Just since last week. While we were on vacation. Before that ...” She paused, uncomfortable talking about this with Ryoga. Akane crossed her arms, as if holding herself, and concluded, “Yeah. We're dating now.”

Ryoga looked and sounded confused. “But ... you were sleeping together, in the same bed. Long before then. You told me that you invited him into your bed. Why ...?”

Akane scowled and interrupted, cutting across his speculation with harsh speed. “Mind out of the gutter, Hibiki. If you'll stop to remember, he was a girl at the time. He's always been a girl when he's in my bed, though we've stopped doing that. He had a ... bad experience, when he lost his voice. He needed someone to be close, to comfort him, for a while after that.”

Ryoga snorted. “Hard to imagine Ranma admitting he needed anyone. What happened, anyway? How'd he lose his voice?”

Akane looked away. “It's ... his story to tell, not mine. If he wants to. Which I don't think he will. For now, I'll just say that he was attacked, when he'd already been injured and couldn't properly defend himself.”

Ryoga gave a little smirk, and there was an unpleasant note to his voice. “So the great Ranma Saotome lost a fight, eh? I'll have to remember to remind him of that from time to time, how he lost his voice because he lost a fight.”

Suddenly Ryoga was blinking, trying not to gulp, as he stared cross-eyed at a tanto whose point was pricking his throat. He hadn't even seen the girl reach up and grab it off of the wall above him.

Akane's voice, when it spoke, was full of quiet menace. “If you ever ... taunt ... Ranma about that, I will personally make sure it is the last thing that you ever do. Have you got that, Hibiki?”

The boy didn't dare nod his head. He managed to squeak out the word “yes,” whereupon Akane pulled the blade back and replaced it in its holder. Ryoga nervously raised his hand and touched his throat, finally giving in to the urge to swallow heavily in reaction. Pulling his hand back, he found a smear of blood on his palm.

Ranma came hurrying over, his eyes full of questions. He had not missed the by-play with the knife, or the look of fury on Akane's face. His hands were making rapid signs.

“It's all right, Ranma,” Akane called out as he drew near. “Just a little ... disagreement. Ryoga said something foolish. I'm sure he won't do it again.” She turned and looked at the boy sitting on the floor. “Will you?”

Ryoga shook his head violently, not daring to speak. This girl was scary. Suddenly he didn't feel so bad that Ranma had been “lucky” enough to get her, beautiful or not.

“If you're ready, Hibiki-san, perhaps we could spar now?” Akane said sweetly. Ryoga eyed her dubiously, but nodded and climbed to his feet.

Ranma watched the match carefully. His original rationale for training Akane was to make sure that she would always be able to defend herself against any attack. He was already certain that he had brought her to the point where she could handle that pompous idiot Kuno, let alone any lesser threat. As he watched the progress of the battle between the pair in front of him, Ranma nodded in satisfaction. Akane had little hope of defeating Ryoga today, unless the boy made some stupid mistake, but if the fight had been real, she could have held him off long enough to make her escape.

Not that Ryoga was going all out by any means. In fact, he was holding back even more than Ranma himself did against Akane, and Ranma saw signs of anger appearing as the girl realized it. What was worse, however, was that Akane could fight harder than this if she wanted to as well. It dawned on Ranma that Akane had developed certain habits from sparring only with him, and it was putting her at a disadvantage now. She wasn't using all of the weapons available to her. After what Ryoga had done to her, it should have been easy for Akane to target the boy with insults. She should have been more than willing to use low blows against him. It troubled Ranma seriously that she seemed to have forgotten the nature of “Anything Goes.”

Well, he'd just have to do something about that. The two combatants had separated temporarily, and Ranma wasted no time putting his plan into effect. Stepping up behind Ryoga and directly into Akane's line of sight, he signed, “What's taking so long? Didn't I soften him up enough? I thought you'd want to destroy the pervert. It looks more like you're flirting with him. Remember what he did to you? You're acting like it didn't bother you.”

Akane's eyes widened as she interpreted the signs he formed. Ranma was unable to decipher the look on her face, but it didn't seem to be quite the effect he had been aiming for. He stepped back doubtfully as Ryoga went on the attack again. The boy aimed a casual punch at Akane only to have his arm gripped fiercely, whereupon he found himself flying across the dojo. He slammed into the wall behind Akane, upside-down, then crashed head first into the floor. He wasn't unconscious, but he did decide to wait for the stars to disappear before getting up.

In the meantime, Akane hadn't stopped moving. After throwing Ryoga out of her way, she marched straight up to Ranma. He eyed her nervously, wondering what was going through her head, and only at the last moment spotted the glimmer of tears at the corners of her eyes. When she stopped in front of him, Akane's hand came around in a slap which spun Ranma around so that he was facing in the other direction. He turned back around in time to catch a glimpse of her back as she stormed out of the dojo.

Ryoga stood up, rubbing the back of his head. “What the hell got into her all of a sudden?” he asked irritably.

Ranma pulled out his pad and wrote for a second. Taking the sheet of paper, Ryoga read, “Something I said to her, I think.”

Ryoga looked up, puzzled. “Said? I didn't think you could talk. And I didn't hear you.”

Shooting the other boy a disgusted look, Ranma made several signs with his hands. Ryoga nodded, not that he understood the signs Ranma had just made, but to show he now understood how Ranma had “said” something to Akane.

“What now?” Ryoga asked.

Ranma wrote, “I think that's it for today. I'd better go inside and try to talk to her.”

“Okay,” Ryoga replied. “And maybe next time, we can do this outside somewhere, so I can use my weapons. Your school is supposed to be Anything Goes, right?”

Ranma shrugged his acquiescence, and headed out. A minute later, Ryoga tried to follow. “Hey, Ranma!” he shouted. “Come back here and show me the way out before you go!”

After returning to the dojo and helping the lost boy find his way out to the street, Ranma finally headed into the house, searching for Akane. When he got upstairs, he saw Kasumi coming out of Akane's bedroom, shutting the door behind her. He walked down the hall, trying to get to the door, but Kasumi put a hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Come with me, Ranma-kun,” she said to him in a tone that brooked no disagreement. They went down the hall and into his bedroom.

Ranma sat on the windowsill, one shin resting across the sill. Kasumi stood in front of him, arms folded across her chest. “Akane told me her version of what you said out in the dojo,” the older girl began.

Ranma signed, “I tried to make her fight harder. Is she mad?”

Kasumi's lips thinned. “Akane is more hurt than angry. She is in her room crying, saying that you don't care about her, that you've been lying to her, that she doesn't want to go out with you anymore ... in fact, that she doesn't want to see you again.”

Ranma looked shocked. He signed the single word, “Why?”

“Because you've hurt her feelings,” Kasumi explained, trying to make the boy understand. “The way she sees it, you've told her that you think that she's a pervert, and that you look with contempt on her martial arts skills.”

Ranma's hands vigorously moved through the words, “That's not true!”

Kasumi shook her head. “From what Akane told me of what you said, she has some cause to think that. I suspect you didn't mean it the way it sounded, but whether you meant it that way or not, it came across as words which were meant to hurt. She feels like you've betrayed her.”

Ranma signed, “I must talk to her.” He jumped up, but Kasumi moved to the side and blocked his path.

“No, Ranma-kun,” the girl declared sternly. “Akane is not ready to listen to you yet, so you'll only make matters worse. Give her a chance to get over the initial shock first. In the meantime ...” She fixed him with a glare which made Ranma take a step backward. “I suggest that you meditate on what you said, why it was wrong, and what you're going to say to apologize. Be very sure that you get it right. I will talk to Akane and get her to give you a chance to explain. You may only get one chance.” With that, Kasumi turned around and swept out of the room.

Ranma sank to a cross-legged position on his futon, and began the unaccustomed task of thinking about something he had said, trying to see it from another person's point of view. It wasn't easy. Apparently Akane had taken his crack seriously, about not being bothered by Ryoga touching her. At first Ranma couldn't see why she didn't understand his intent, but it gradually came to him that his own father had trained him from a very early age to respond to such comments by trying harder. Apparently Akane's own father had not treated her similarly, and was that so surprising? Ranma himself had not incorporated such methods into their sparring sessions so far because of his inability to talk, and that he could not easily write notes or use sign language while they fought.

So apparently Akane was not used to someone treating her that way while she trained. Ranma shook his head, suddenly seeing a gulf between their training which he had not previously recognized, and simultaneously knowing he must find a way to bridge it. If Akane found herself in a real fight, her opponent might well be more than willing to try to goad her into a fatal mistake with a few carefully chosen remarks. He would have to explain to Akane, and make her understand that this would have to be part of her training.

Yet ... could Ranma bring himself to do that to Akane? He thought about his own feelings for his father, even before the fateful day they were cursed. He ... enjoyed being Akane's boyfriend. For that matter, he enjoyed being her friend. Ranma didn't want her to come to resent him. He perked up as it occurred to him that here was another possible use for Ryoga. If he explained all of this to the lost-without-his-GPS boy, perhaps he could convince Ryoga to handle this part of Akane's training. Admittedly, he'd have to push Ryoga into overcoming that shyness that he sometimes exhibited around girls. Ranma frowned as he wondered how hard it would be to do so.

Satisfied that he now knew why Akane was upset, and that he had some idea of what he was going to say to her, Ranma relaxed. If he carefully explained that he wasn't being mean on purpose, then hopefully she would forgive him. As he lay back with his hands under his head, it occurred to Ranma that this had all come about because he had broken his promise to himself. He was supposed to stop and think before saying anything, which was exactly what he hadn't done in the dojo. He told himself even more firmly to remember to keep that promise in future.

Ranma fell asleep while waiting for Kasumi to give him the all clear.

Ranma awoke to a delightful smell. He sat up, noticing that it was already dark outside. There was a tray of food beside him, which Kasumi had evidently only just placed there, since she was still kneeling on the other side of it.

“Here you go, Ranma-kun,” Kasumi said quietly. “I saved some dinner for you.”

“Why not wake me?” Ranma signed rapidly. “I need to talk to Akane!”

Kasumi shook her head. “I've had a chance to talk to Akane at some length. I think I have her at least halfway convinced that you said what you did because of some temporary stupidity, rather than any real desire to hurt her. I also told her that you were skipping dinner so as not to hurt her further by forcing your company on her before you had a chance to apologize, and that you were taking the opportunity to meditate on your apology.”

The girl sighed. “I hope you have given some thought to what you will say. Akane is calmer now, but how she reacts will depend on what you have to say. Eat your dinner first, then go talk to her.”

After his meal, Ranma walked down the hall to Akane's room. His knock on the door was answered with a soft, “Come in.” When he opened the door, Akane gave him one hurt look then turned her eyes aside. On the other hand, she didn't order him back out.

Ranma walked across the floor slowly, the realization hitting him that he should have given more thought to how he was going to do this. His pride told him to simply sit beside her and explain to her why he had done what he did. It occurred to him now that doing so might not work so well. Of one thing Ranma was sure, he didn't want to risk losing Akane. He stood there in thought for a bit, pride warring with this other feeling. Slowly he dropped to sit seiza in front of her.

Ranma's hands started gesturing. “I did not want to upset ...” He paused, considering the meaning. His hands wavered for a moment, picking over his limited vocabulary, trying to find the symbols to express himself. With a sigh, he pulled out his pad and began writing instead.

“I didn't mean to upset you. I didn't think. I acted like my father, when he trained me. He'd say anything, as long as he thought it would make me fight harder. That's what I did.”

Akane read the words silently. She made no response. Ranma continued writing.

“I know you still dislike Ryoga for what he did that night. I never thought it ‘didn't bother you.’ I was only trying to motivate you.”

“You were fighting pretty well, but you didn't try anything sneaky, didn't insult him, didn't act like he was someone you had to fight off at all costs. I thought you would, because of what he did.”

“So when I saw you weren't, I said that to try to push you into it. It never occurred to me you weren't trained like me. I assumed you expected to hear things like that in a fight. I know the words weren't true.”

Akane turned her hurt gaze back on him. “And you expect me to believe that it was just part of training? How many months have we been working together now? You've never said anything like that to me before!”

Her chin trembled on the last words, causing Ranma to wince. He held up his hands, turning them slowly, drawing Akane's attention to them. Then he wrote, “At first I could only write things. Even now when I can sign some things, my hands are usually too busy when we're training. This was the first time I've really been free to do something like that.”

The next sheet read, “I didn't mean to hurt you. I never want to hurt you. But sometimes training hurts.”

Akane looked down, away from him. “I suppose that means you're going to continue saying things like that to me, whenever we're training.” The pain in her voice came through clearly.

Ranma wrote some more, and pushed the paper into her hands even though she wasn't looking at him. Reluctantly Akane turned toward the paper and read, “Yes and no. No, I've already decided I'm not going to say things like that to you. I don't want you to think of me the way I think of my pop. Yes, this must be part of your training. In a real fight, your opponent will say nasty things to make you screw up. I won't leave you unprepared for that.”

Akane looked up as he handed her the next sheet. This one said, “I was thinking I'd try to get Ryoga to handle that with you. Having him throw some insults at you probably won't make you think much worse of him.”

Akane snorted. “True enough. Although I'm beginning to think he may not be as bad as I first thought. Still, that's not the same as saying I really like him.”

Akane turned and looked at Ranma again. Her eyes were still full of pain and sorrow. “But don't you see, Ranma? Yes, it upset me when you said I was flirting with that pervert. That I didn't care if he touched me. It hurt a lot. But that wasn't what hurt the most.”

Ranma's hands signed, “It wasn't?”

Akane shook her head, tears appearing in her eyes again. “No. It was when you showed how little you think of me as a martial artist. You don't think I can fight someone if you haven't exhausted him first.”

Ranma just stared at her, not knowing how to respond.

Akane spoke again, voice breaking. “I know you're better than me. It hurts to know that. I get so jealous sometimes, but I've also learned what it cost you to get so good. I've come to accept it, more or less. But today I learned that you think I'm so worthless that I can't even spar with someone on equal terms. I think I hated you at that moment.”

Ranma continued to kneel there, desperately trying to think of something to say. He hadn't meant it like that! Had he? He had only wanted to give her a shot at looking good against Ryoga. But ... what was the worth of something like that, if it wasn't won fairly? Only, was that sort of thing really important to Akane?

The boy thought back to when he had first started training Akane, and his surprise that she really seemed to care about the art. He hadn't thought very much about it since then. Now he experienced a feeling of deja vu. Once again he was surprised that the sort of thing which mattered to him, also seemed to matter to Akane. It wasn't what he expected of a girl.

Slowly Ranma put pen to paper and began writing. “I don't think you're worthless. I think you're very good. But you're also right that I haven't been thinking straight about you and the art.”

“I'd like to apologize right now. But if I did, I don't think you'd believe me. I think you'd be right not to believe me.”

“I need to go off and think about this for a while. I need to figure out what's going on in my head. I can't explain to you until I know what I'm thinking myself.”

“You're good. I know you're good. What I did today — I think it was because of some other stupid idea I have. Can we talk again tomorrow?”

Akane looked at him sadly and nodded her head. She was glad that he wasn't going to tell her something insincere, just to try to make up. Maybe Kasumi was right and they could repair the damage, if she was willing to give him a chance. She'd wait and see what he had to say the next day.

Her eyes followed Ranma as he stood and walked out of the room, head slightly bowed. As the door closed, Akane pulled up her knees and wrapped her arms around them, allowing the tears to escape which she had been holding back during the conversation.

Ranma thought hard the rest of that night as well as the following morning. When he appeared at the door of Akane's room after lunch, we was carrying several sheets of paper on which he had already written. Akane, who was sitting cross-legged on her bed, put down the magazine she was reading, and motioned for him to take her desk chair. Spinning it around, he sat down in it backwards, and handed her the first sheet.

Akane read, “First, to repeat, I never meant to hurt you, and I do think you're a good martial artist.”

“Second, after looking at my own feelings, I must admit that I never really believed that you were as serious about martial arts as me. I never believed that you love the art as much as I do. I now know I was wrong.”

“It's hard to write that. My pride doesn't want me to say I was wrong. It's even worse because I feel shame that I wasn't able to recognize that you could feel the same way as me.”

“I've trained with you because I wanted you to be able to defend yourself. Because we could spend time together. Because it was fun. It never occurred to me to help you because you wanted to be the best, and you had every right to try to be.”

Akane set the paper aside. She silently took the next sheet from Ranma.

“I don't want to make excuses. But I want to try to explain. I've told you a lot about how my pop trained me, what it was like living with him for those ten years.”

“But have you ever tried really imagining it?”

“Ten years of living with my pop, day after day. Sleeping in a tent in the middle of nowhere, or in some shack where he could barely afford the rent. Once in a while we stayed at a dojo where I was getting some training, if the master was generous enough to give us a room. Never for very long. Pop tended to wear out generosity fast.”

“Day in and day out, practically the only person I ever talked to was my pop. Maybe someone at the dojo, but that was usually about martial arts. Or at school, mostly about schoolwork. But pretty much, just my pop.”

The next sheet was handed over.

“Genma Saotome has a low opinion of women. I'm not sure I can tell you how low. He'd insult me by telling me I was behaving like a ‘girl.’ Pop would sneer at girls who practiced martial arts. In his opinion, they were only playing at it. He'd never consider training a girl, and looked down on the masters who did.”

“He always sent me to boys' schools. I think he didn't want me to be ‘corrupted’ by being around girls. I never talked to very many females before I came here; mostly school teachers or the wives of some of the dojo masters. I could probably count on my fingers how many conversations I had with women before I met you. That's a lie, of course, but it's too damn close to the truth.”

“For ten years he poured that garbage into my ears. What was I supposed to believe? I know he's an idiot, but I heard that stuff from when I was a little kid. No one ever told me different, not that I can recall. If they did, they didn't make an impression.”

Akane took the next sheet. She had not yet spoken a word. However, her eyes had a shimmery look to them.

“Then I met you. You made a hell of an initial impression. Worthless? Hell no! No way I'd ever think that about you! Pop's opinion of women be damned.”

“But that didn't just suddenly change all of those ideas that my pop spent years training into me. Some of them have been changing, thanks to you, and Kasumi, and Mitaka-sensei. But I never ran straight into a brick wall with any of those ideas. Something that would make me take a hard look at them.”

“Until yesterday.”

“I was wrong. I was wrong to think girls can't be real martial artists. You are a real martial artist. I was wrong to think girls can't love the art. You do love the art.”

“I was wrong to try to make things easier for you yesterday. I'd have reacted worse than you if someone did that to me. You have the right to try to win on your own. It's meaningless if I cheat for you. And if you don't win right away, you have the right to take your lumps, and to try harder next time.”

“Because you are a martial artist.”

There were now a couple of tears slowly sliding down Akane's cheeks. She took the last sheet of paper from Ranma, as he watched her nervously.

“I'd like to promise that I'll never think like that, or treat you like that, again. But I won't make that promise. I'm guessing it won't be easy to suddenly stop thinking the way I have for the past ten years.”

“But I do promise that I'll try. And that I'll keep trying.”

“You helped me, when I needed help the most. I'm going to do whatever it takes to help you. Even if it means changing a lot of stupid ideas I've been carrying around.”

Akane looked up after reading the last words. She looked into Ranma's anxious eyes, seeing how he had laid himself bare. Seeing the trace of fear in his eyes because of that. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ranma's hands made the signs to say, “Forgive me?”

Akane looked out her window, while she examined her feelings. After a couple of minutes of agony for Ranma, she turned back and nodded. There was a sense of peace about her, which hadn't been present when the boy had entered the room. But there was also a melancholy feel to the peace.

“I forgive you, Ranma,” she said quietly. “And I do think I understand you better now. But ...” Akane looked down at the papers in her hands, then back up again. “I don't have an on/off switch for my feelings. What you said hurt me. A lot. I can't just forget it. I need time.”

Ranma sighed, then gave her a sad smile. He signed, “I understand,” then stood and walked out of the room.

The following Friday, Mitaka had her hands full trying to console two unhappy teenagers. That night at dinner, their glumness cast a pall over the meal. It was the first Friday in a long time when they weren't going out somewhere together.

Akane didn't think she could bear feeling this way for much longer. She wanted things to be like they used to be. If only she could be convinced that she had Ranma's respect as a martial artist, it might be possible to put all of this behind them. She toyed with her food, pushing grains of rice around with the ends of her chopsticks.

Ranma had spent ten years out on the road with his father, enduring countless hardships. Akane had never trained outside of her own dojo. How was Ranma supposed to see her as his equal, or at least someone similarly devoted, under those circumstances?

The girl paused, her chopsticks stilled, as she chased a thought down. When she finally caught it, her eyes widened slightly as she examined it from all sides. Finally, she looked up and cleared her throat, getting Ranma's attention. Actually, she got everyone's attention, but it was Ranma's that she was after.

“Um, Ranma, it's a few weeks before we have to be back in school,” Akane began. “We don't have any special plans between now and then. And you do want to help me to be a better martial artist, right?”

Ranma looked puzzled, not sure where she was going. Nonetheless, he nodded his agreement to all of this.

“Then I think we should go on a training trip between now and the start of school. You can teach me some of the things you learned. Tree hopping. Long distance running. Carrying boulders. Enduring freezing waters in a mountain stream. And so on.”

Ranma's eyes widened, aghast, as memories of his own training flooded his mind. He almost signed, “I can't do that!” without stopping to think. But he did catch himself just in time. He had promised himself to think about things before speaking, well, signing or writing anyway. As he did think, he winced as he remembered his promise to treat Akane as a real martial artist.

He swallowed heavily as he realized that this was the first real trial of that promise. And, oh gods, what a trial it was! To put Akane through some of what he himself had gone through? Could he do it?

Did he have a choice? He had made a promise to Akane, and if he was to keep that promise, then this was what he had to do. If Akane was a real martial artist, then she not only could, but should, endure rigorous training. Having accepted that, albeit reluctantly, Ranma began to think about what he would have to make Akane do. At that point, he automatically began to make mental adjustments to the training his father had put him through, thinking of how to achieve the same benefits without the insane risks.

Ranma looked up at a cleared throat, and realized that Akane was still waiting for an answer. For that matter, so was everyone else, although in truth it seemed more like they were all too stunned to speak. Suppressing any show of reluctance, he signed, “Yes. It's a good idea. We'll take a couple days to plan. Where to go. What we'll do. Then we'll leave.” He looked to the head of the table. “With your father's permission.”

Akane smiled widely, the first smile Ranma had seen from her in a week. “Thank you,” she responded happily, and dug into her food.

Nabiki and Soun hadn't known what Ranma's response was until Akane thanked him. Kasumi of course had been able to read the signs as well as Akane, and was the first of the others to speak.

“Oh, but ... Akane. You can't go off alone with Ranma. It wouldn't be proper.”

Akane's lips thinned slightly. “What do you think we're going to do? We've only been on a couple of dates so far. We haven't even kissed yet.”

Kasumi shook her head. “It isn't that you can't be trusted. Although I'd like to point out that so far you haven't been in a position for that trust to be tested. But think about appearances! What would people say?”

Akane shrugged. “They've said worse about me, oneechan. I don't care what other people say. As long as I know that my honor is intact, that's all that matters.”

Kasumi's features grew stern. “It is still unacceptable. However, I understand that this is something you feel you must do.” She turned to Soun. “Father, you will have to accompany them.”

Soun looked startled. “Me! It's been years since I was on a training trip!”

“High time then,” Akane muttered.

Kasumi clearly heard the low-voiced comment from her sister sitting beside her, and struggled to keep a straight face. “That doesn't matter, father. Akane and Ranma are the one's who will be training. You're going along to chaperon. For you, it will only be a camping trip.”

“But ...” Soun tried to raise further objections.

“I'm so glad that you agree, father,” Kasumi declared with a smile. “I'll help you to get your camping supplies together for the trip. Some mountain air will be good for you.”

Akane was feeling truly happy for the first time since the previous Saturday. “I need to think about what supplies to take along. Kasumi, I'll need to talk with you about recipes to use when I'm cooking outdoors.”

Ranma froze, chopsticks a couple of centimeters from his lips, as a look of horror suffused his features. ‹I'm doomed!› he thought.

Down in Kyoto a man, the owner of a nearby dojo, was paying for an okonomiyaki which had just been cooked on a portable grill. As he raised it to his mouth, he was approached by another man. Like the dojo owner this second man wore a gi, secured with a black belt, but his was in markedly worse shape, soiled and threadbare. Genma Saotome was back in Japan at last, returned from his fruitless search through China for his wayward offspring, and now trying to pick up the boy's trail.

“Tanaka-san,” Genma called out. “If I might have a word?”

The first man looked up from his okonomiyaki. A look of confusion shortly gave way to one of disgust. “Ah, Saotome-san, isn't it? What may I do ... er, what do you want?”

The chef behind the grill looked up, startled.

Genma blithely stated, “I seem to have ... misplaced ... my son, Ranma. Have you seen him recently?”

Tanaka looked over the other man. Instead of answering right away, he asked, “What in the devil have you got under that bandanna? A Mickey Mouse cap? And what's with the eyebrows?”

Genma heaved a sigh. “A little accident, pay no mind. Look, I really do need to find Ranma.”

Tanaka shook his head. “I am sorry to say that I haven't seen your son since the two of you last visited my dojo. And frankly, if he's finally had the sense to run off, I'm not sure I'd help you to find him if I could.”

Genma gave a low growl, but only said, “Thanks anyway.” He watched as the dojo's master walked up the street, and turned a longing eye to the grill. If only he had a little more money to spare.

The long-haired teenager standing by the grill took in the hungry look, and inquired. “You said your name is Saotome? Would that be Genma Saotome? And your son's name is Ranma?”

Genma nodded warily.

The young chef grinned, showing lots of teeth. “Would you like a free okonomiyaki?”

Genma nodded excitedly.

Batter was poured on the grill. While it cooked, the chef said, “I have business of my own with Ranma Saotome. I'll let you have this for free provided you allow me to accompany you while you search for him.”

The older man only had attention for the delicious aroma in front of him. “Of course! Of course! I'll be happy to have your company!”

“Are you crazy?!”

It was Saturday afternoon, the day after the decision for Ranma, Akane and Soun to go on a training trip. Ryoga had once again come over for a sparring session, and had just read the sheet of paper Ranma handed him. That paper outlined Ranma's ideas for training Akane to handle anything an opponent might say to her in the heat of battle.

Ranma sighed and wrote some more. “It's dangerous to lose control in a fight just because someone says something you don't like. You have the same problem, you know.”

Ryoga flushed angrily on reading this. He almost yelled again, but a niggling voice in the back of his head suggested that doing so would, in a sense, prove Ranma's point for him.

Instead he scowled and said, “Even if you happen to have an evil talent for getting under my skin, I don't see what that has to do with what you want.”

Ranma wrote some more, wishing that he could communicate more easily. Then again, if he could talk, he'd probably end up insulting Ryoga, they'd fight, and nothing would get decided. He handed Ryoga a sheet which read, “If you say things like that to Akane during sparring, she ain't going to like it. I'm sure she'll say some things right back. That'll give you practice at the same time. Then someday, if I get my voice back, maybe you'll be able to ignore my insults and concentrate on fighting.”

Ryoga snorted on reading this, half amused despite himself. Then he looked up, and there was something pleading in his eyes. “But, dammit Ranma, I can't talk to a girl like that. How do you expect me to do this? It would make me feel like a monster!”

Ranma sighed again, then scribbled for a while. The next piece of paper handed to Ryoga made several points.

“1. Think of it as another sort of training for yourself. Maybe you won't be so tongue-tied around girls afterward.”

“2. Akane doesn't like you very much already, after what you did. So this won't make her think much worse of you.”

“3. You owe her. You groped her, on purpose, just to upset me. She needs this training, in case she's ever in a fight against someone who'll take any advantage.”

“4. I can't do it, because I can't talk. Besides, I can't treat her like that when she and I are, well, you know. I got no one else to turn to.”

“5. Please?”

Ryoga's head drooped. The hell of it was, he could actually understand Ranma's point of view this time. That felt a bit unusual, but it was true. He also did feel that he owed Akane something.

“All right, I'll try,” Ryoga said heavily. “I can't promise anything, but I'll try.”

The two of them entered the dojo, where Akane was warming up, dressed in a gi. She looked over at them and called out, “About time! Hurry and warm up, pig boy, 'cause Ranma's promised that I get to take you on first today! Then you and Ranma are heading over to a vacant lot to spar, assuming I've left enough of you for him to fight.”

Ryoga growled on the edge of audibility over the “pig boy” crack. It was the sort of thing he might expect to hear from Ranma, not from a pretty girl. He nodded his head sharply. Maybe he'd be able to do this after all. Then he snorted softly, wondering if she had insulted him on purpose, just to put him in the proper frame of mind. Ranma's original note had said that she knew what he was supposed to do.

He let his lips curl into a slight sneer. “Okay, little tomboy, let's get to it. No need for me to warm up. You'll be the warm up, for when I fight Ranma later.”

Akane's eyes glittered, and she attacked without further warning. Ryoga blocked her kick and the follow up punch, then needed to duck under the kick from her other leg. His own kick missed, as Akane leaned out of the way, but Ryoga spun at the same time and his other leg took Akane's legs out from under her. She hit the mat spinning and rolled out of the way of his descending fist, bouncing back to her feet instantly.

“Can't you move any faster than that?” Akane mocked. “No wonder you don't do very well against Ranma.” She bounced back in, both fists punching, one slamming into his palm, the other deflected to the side.

Apparently the girl was trying to goad him into doing what Ranma wanted, Ryoga thought to himself as he fought to keep his temper from slipping his grip. He aborted a kick as he saw her leg rising in time for a block, then attempted a throw which she turned into a somersault that had her landing on her feet. Ryoga realized that her movements reminded him slightly of Ranma, then shrugged mentally. Of course they did. Who was training her after all?

‹Okay,› Ryoga thought, ‹if I'm going to do this, then let's do it for real.› Out loud, he scathingly remarked, “I guess you really are a tomboy. I mean, you prefer to sleep with a girl rather than a boy.” Inwardly he winced, almost unable to credit that he had said such a thing to any girl.

Flames roared to life in Akane's eyes. She threw a punch guaranteed to crumple metal when it landed. Ryoga sidestepped easily and nailed her in the side, sending her flying to crash into the wall of the dojo. He remained where he was, while Ranma went over to check on the girl.

Ranma saw that Akane's eyes were slightly open, and she was biting her lip. He signed, “You okay?”

She grimaced. “Yeah. I'll be okay. I'm gonna have a couple of big bruises though. That bastard! Did you hear what he said?”

Ranma nodded. His hands said, “Yes. You knew he would try to upset you. Why did you lose control?”

Akane pouted. “It made me mad, all right? I don't want someone saying garbage like that to me.”

Ranma simply signed, “Too bad.”

Akane glared at him, then her eyes dropped. “Yeah, I know. I've got to learn to take it. Damn it.” She pulled herself back to her feet, then tried a few experimental movements, wincing at some of the twinges.

She looked up and caught Ryoga's eye. Grimly she stated, “Okay, you got me that time. Shall we try for round two?”

Ryoga nodded. Akane began to circle him, looking for an opening.

Later Akane winced as she lowered herself into the steaming water of the furo. She had a huge bruise on one side where Ryoga hit her that first time, in addition to numerous, smaller bruises. At least she had got a good hit in on him once, which left at least as large a bruise. He had charged like an enraged bull, leaving himself much too open, after she had teased him, cooing, “Can't you fight any better than that, pig-chan? P-chan? Little black piggy-wiggy?”

The later match between Ranma and Ryoga had been something to see. Ryoga had pulled out all the stops, using his umbrella and bandannas in addition to unarmed attacks. Ranma had taken a couple of hits, but escaped mostly unscathed. Ryoga was going to need to replace his umbrella, which had been smashed during the fight.

As the hot water relaxed her, Akane realized that she was feeling a lot better than she had over the last week. Ranma's words to her from a week ago still hurt, but ... it was pretty stupid to think that they were never going to hurt each other, wasn't it? The hurt had faded to a minor thing. He had apologized, and helped her to understand what had been going on in his head. He had made progress in dealing with the causes, without making promises that were impossible to keep.

When she emerged from the furoba to find Ranma standing in the hall waiting his turn, Akane tentatively put her arms around the young man and gave him a hug. Quietly she told him, “I'm feeling a lot better about things, now. What do you say we plan on going out tomorrow night, one last time before the training trip?”

Ranma, though surprised, certainly wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He hugged her also, lightly, enough for her to feel the pressure of his arms. Pulling back, Ranma let a smile light his face, and nodded happily.

Both of them smiling, they stepped past each other. Akane headed down the hall toward the stairs up to her room, while Ranma went into the furoba for his own bath and soak.

The next night, Ranma was sitting up on the roof, contemplating their date earlier. They'd gone dancing again. Initially it had been a bit awkward, but they had ended up having fun. In fact, he hadn't stopped smiling since they came home. Ranma told himself sternly, for the umpteenth time, that he should get inside and go to bed. They were making an early start tomorrow. But he still felt too keyed up to sleep.

Finally he jumped down and wandered inside, spying the three packs lined up in the front hall. His was the largest, although Akane's wasn't much smaller as he had insisted that carrying the weight was part of her training. Idly he started going through the packs one more time, checking on everything, trying not to get anything in Akane's out of place. After all, he didn't want her thinking he'd been rummaging through her underwear or anything.

The boy paused as he came to a box filled with a variety of spices and other ingredients such as salt, sugar, baking powder and more. The staples, such as the rice, were divided evenly among all of the packs. He shuddered as he imagined what Akane could do with items like these. As he stared at the box glumly, Ranma started to get a glimmer of an idea.

The biggest problems Akane seemed to have, from the few occasions he had been subject to her efforts, were accidentally using the wrong ingredient or overenthusiastically using unexpected ingredients in the dish she was preparing. What would she do if she had almost no extra ingredients to choose from? No doubt she would still make mistakes, but the scope for those mistakes would at least be greatly reduced. Their meals might end up being pretty bland and too much of the same old thing, but considering the alternative that actually sounded pretty good.

Ruthlessly Ranma started pulling out most of the spices and other things. Mushrooms, wasabi, sugar, vinegar, and many other things were set aside to be hidden in the kitchen before he sought his bed. He paused, and on second thought picked the wasabi back up and put it in his own pack. It might be useful for hiding the taste of anything which turned out badly after all.

Satisfied with his effort, Ranma carefully placed the nearly empty box back into Akane's pack and sealed it back up. Collecting everything he had removed from her pack, he carried the armful into the kitchen and carefully stored them, hoping that neither Akane nor Kasumi would notice before they got out the door. Feeling considerably cheered, the teenager headed upstairs and was soon asleep.

The next morning, as they settled back into their seats on the train, Akane remarked in a bubbly voice, “Next stop, the Hida Mountains.”