Rooftop Confessions by Sereko
This story is of a different style than I am used to. I usually write longer chapters with several scenes…but this story is made up more of individual meetings between Akane and Ranma on the Tendo roof. Thus I've decided, instead of trying to hit my usual page number quota, I will instead cut the chapters based on these meetings. This will make the chapters very small, but – hopefully – they can stand well enough on their own. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma 1/2. I merely use Rumiko Takahashi's genius as a starting point for my own storytelling.
She approached him slowly, casually. Once she reached his side, she let her legs curl beneath her so that she could sit beside him. "Hi Ranma," she said while looking with him up at the stars.
"Hey," he whispered back unchanged in his position and demeanor from when she first stepped onto the roof. Akane smiled down at him. He looked so peaceful, so content. She let her eyes drift back to the twinkle of light above her.
After a few minutes, the tomboy sighed and then yawned. She heard Ranma yawn behind her only seconds later. She grinned while she stretched her arms upward and arched her back. "Yawns are contagious," she informed him. Her back made a light popping noise and she groaned in pleasure at finally being able to get that nasty kink out of it.
She could practically hear Ranma's smile. "Long day?" Akane nodded solemnly without looking at him. With a care most would not credit the pig-tailed boy with having, he reached out and let his fingertips brush against his companion's upper arm. The touch was slight and had Akane not become so accustomed to him she was sure that she wouldn't have felt it. But she had become accustomed to him. Two years would do that to a couple, no matter if they spent every waking moment arguing with one another. They had been getting better, though, Akane told herself as she leaned back to lie down on the roof's shingles.
Ranma barely even noticed when she followed his command. He too had become accustomed to her. Somehow amongst their squabbles and misadventures he and his very first fiancée had developed a body language. They were more aware of each other, could sense one another more acutely than before. Most of all, they were finally able to discern each other's moods. Ranma was now smart enough not to provoke Akane when he saw her eyes flat and posture slouched as was Akane smart enough not to mallet her housemate into oblivion when his muscles were flexed and his jaw tight. Needless to say, such observations saved them from 3 out of 5 of their arguments. The Tendo Dojo was practically peaceful. Ranma smirked. Maybe not entirely peaceful, he thought. It was still too tempting to get his kawaikune tomboy riled up and ready to roll. He couldn't explain the pure, unadulterated pleasure he received any time her saw her face heat up and her eyes brighten. She was simply stunning when she was angry. He turned his head to glance at her profile.
The top of her head was partially on top of the arm he had laying on the roof above her. Her own arms were slung over her waist, hands clasped over her stomach. The elbow of one was slightly nudging his side because of her close proximity. Ranma couldn't help but sigh in contentment. He couldn't count the days it had taken for the two of them to become more comfortable with physical proximity.
All right, so he could.
2 years. 1 month. And if his internal clock served him correctly, 23 days.
Just a little over two years of being together. Two years worth of endless fights, training missions, Amazonian schemes, persistent suitors…the list was endless. And then it finally came. Ranma had memorized every detail of that revolutionary moment.
He had been training in the dojo. Breaking bricks, kicking dummies, perfecting his katas…the usual. To be truthful, he hadn't noticed when his practicing slowly moved out of the training hall and into the backyard. The sun had been out and he was getting slick with sweat in his white tank top and black pants. For the first time, the cool pond a few feet away was looking inviting. Ranma had just about decided to take a little swim when he executed a perfect 180-degree backward punch. What he hadn't known at the time was that Akane had moved outside as well and was standing directly behind him.
Pulling his punch as fast as he could, Ranma narrowly missed breaking his fiancée's jaw. In fact, he would have had Akane not shifted away from him herself. His eyes were wide. "Akane!"
The girl just smiled at him as if nothing had happened. She held up her hand that was holding an ice-cold glass of water. "I brought this for you." She received no response from the man in front of her. He was still struck dumb.
"Akane," he said slowly. He took the drink from her at the same time that he reached a hand up to her cheek. "Are you all right?"
Akane looked at him questionably. "Yes, I'm fine," she responded in a way that suggested that she had no idea why he was so concerned. And she didn't.
"Akane," he repeated for a third time, "you just dodged one of my punches."
Now her own eyes widened. She clasped the hand that he still held against her face. While pulling it away from her, she looked at the appendage in awe. Her thin fingers brushed his own as she turned the hand over and over. "Really?" she asked and finally raised her eyes back to his. He just nodded his head. "Wow," she mumbled.
That had been about six months ago. Ever since then, Ranma had started picking up on all of the other little movements and shifts that Akane did on a daily basis. For example, at mealtimes she unconsciously held his rice bowl anytime that he was leaning over the table to fight his father for food. He hadn't realized how often he spilled his rice until that moment. There were many more instances, so many small things he couldn't list them all.
One thing for sure, they had fallen into a rhythm. A familiarity.
And he liked it.