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There was a smudge on the mirror.
Akane couldn’t help but stare at it, a frown tugging at her lips. It was vaguely the size of a small hand, with small etches and grooves that looked almost familiar. She had an urge to stomp out of the room, confront the likeliest subjects and ask why they couldn’t have just grabbed a bottle of glass cleaner and honestly, you two are ridiculous.
Then they’d be cute, and pout, and Akane would relax, and tease them for being self-absorbed dorks, and they could all laugh and Akane could go about her day without having to confront why she was standing in front of mirror, wearing nothing more than a sport’s bra and panties, a noticeable bulge between her legs.
She shut her eyes, counted to five, and opened them again.
Still there.
A spark of—of something raced up her spine, a mix of nerves, fear, and something almost joyful dancing up and down her skin. She smiled and laughed, as much the sound of the condemned as celebratory.
It wasn’t exactly a large size, at least not compared to the occasional glance she’d had at other people with the natural variant, but it did stick out a bit on her rather small frame. It was unquestionably there, outspoken in a way it wasn’t on girls who had one of their own--and yet, it still carried a degree of—subtlety, perhaps.
It wasn’t like the toys Ukyo or Shampoo sometimes wore, on the nights where they felt a bit adventurous. It didn’t carry the promise of sweat-slicked sheets and a comfortable soreness. It just was. Another curve on a body dominated by them.
Akane swallowed through a dry throat, then turned around, opening thedresser and sifting through a pile of her casual clothes. There was a temptation to go for something loose, like a skirt, or a pair of jeans stiff enough to force their own shape, but instead, she found herself pulling out a pair of tights, and a t-shirt. Borrowed from Ranma, she thought, but which fit her just as well.
Normally.
Without looking back at the mirror, Akane quickly dressed herself, brushing through her hair with her fingers before turning around, looking upon herself once more.
At first glance, there was a relieving degree of familiarity. She was just Akane, dressed in her girlfriend’s clothes. And to everyone else, she was just a girl, wearing clothes that weren’t quite the right size, heading home after a night of fun.
And then… then they’d look down, and they’d see that… she had something women didn’t usually have. Maybe… maybe they’d think she wasn’t quite a woman, wasn’t quite a girl.
It was… weird. If someone said that to Konatsu, Akane knew she’d be furious. Stomping up to them, fists clenched, ready to shout and scream, but—but for herself, thinking of herself in that position, having a stranger say that to her, looking at her like that, she felt… she thought…
A hand lightly grasped her shoulder.
Akane jumped, one hand grabbing her assailant, trying to hook their legs before she heard a familiar--and annoying—chuckle.
Akane glanced behind her and scowled. “Ranma.”
Another chuckle fell from the redhead’s lips. “In the flesh. Surprised you didn’t hear me.”
Akane turned away with a huff. “I swear, one of these days I’m sticking a bell on you.”
“Not before Shampoo. You know how jealous she’ll get.”
“She’ll get over it.”
Ranma laughed, softly and briefly, before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Akane’s stomach. “Sorry. Seriously, just… wasn’t sure I should interrupt. Looked like you had lots to think about.”
“…I guess,” Akane admitted, looking at the redhead’s face in the mirror. “Did you see what I was…?”
Just behind her shoulder, Ranma nodded.
Akane swallowed. “Oh.”
Ranma looked at her for a moment, then tightened her grip around her. “You don’t gotta tell me nothin’,” she said. “We can just go watch a movie or whatever. Do some dishes.”
Akane snorted. “You hate doing dishes.”
“’Cause Ukyo’s too used to having a dishwasher,” Ranma grumbled. “But, seriously. You don’t… I ain’t expecting anything, alright?”
Akane was silent for a moment, resting her hands over Ranma’s.
“…There’s that new robot assassin movie coming out soon, right?” Akane said, finally. “Might be a good idea to watch the first one again before Shampoo drags us to go watch it.”
Ranma snorted. “Like you’re not just as excited about it as she is.”
Akane huffed. “I—that’s—they made her buff, Ranma!”
Ranma’s laughter filled the room. Akane couldn’t help but grin, feeling her girlfriend's joy bubbling through her.
Ranma pulled away, still chuckling as she wiped a tear from her eye. “You are such a bisexual dork, you know that?”
“And you’re not?” Akane said, raising a brow as she turned to face her.
“Hey, I ain’t a dork about it.” She shook her head. “Want some popcorn?”
“You’ll be eating most of it.”
“Which is why I’m askin’.”
Akane shrugged. “Sure, then. I wouldn’t mind. And, Ranma?”
“Yeah?”
Akane blushed. “Thank you.”
Ranma smiled, soft and simple. “’Course, ‘Kane.” She stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. “Just remember, whenever you’re ready, whatever you haveta say… I love ya, all right? Don’t forget that.”
“I won’t,” Akane said, adding a kiss of her own. “I love you too.”
Ranma smiled, before stepping away and giving a slight cough. “I’ll, uh, I’ll go get the popcorn started. Don’t rush or nothing, think Ukyo put it away last, so might take me a bit.”
“Should I grab a ladder?”
“Screw you.”
Akane laughed as Ranma left the room, grumbling under her breath about “stupid, unfunny tomboys.”
She gathered herself after a moment, stealing one last glance at the mirror.
There was time, she knew, to change. Ranma’s offer was as unsubtle as it was appreciated, and Akane’s first instinct was to take advantage of it, but…
She knew, regardless of what she did, Ranma would say nothing. For the moment, her choice had the freedom to simply be, without explanation or justification.
Even to herself.
Akane stood a few moments longer before slowly, quietly stepping away from the mirror.
She pulled in a breath and left the room.