Chapter Text
Akane washes her face in the sink of her apartment, smudging her mascara and lipstick. Exhaustion was clearly reflected in the tiredness of her eyes and the hairs that plastered everywhere on her face. Heck, she looked like a zombie.
It was one of these nights (or every Friday night) that she realized booze is really not her strongest suit. She realized, actually, before that her body just CAN’T get used to it, and she hoped someday that her anatomy would be kind to her next time so that she wouldn't have to puke her guts out every single time.
‘Ugh, you shouldn’t have drunk, you idiot,’ she told herself in the mirror just like a couple of times before.
She walks out of her bathroom, turning the lights off on her way, and goes to her veranda overlooking the pretty lights of Tokyo. Her face is still wet but now glad, as it is not sticky and heavy as before. She hums to herself as the cool night air embraces her, closing her eyes as a gust of wind passes through once again.
She likes her life here; that includes the spacious apartment that she has lived in for years. It’s not perfect, sure, as it only consists of furniture that is for utilitarian purposes, such as a bed, study table, sofa with a cute table and plant in the middle, carpet, stove, kitchen and laundry appliances. She also added some decorative items here and there to give it a homey feel. Of course, it’s not like she will live here forever anyway, so everything here suffices for her needs. And to top it off, it's hers. What more could she ask for?
When the cold air begins to be insufferable, she goes inside and closes the sliding doors as a yawn escapes through her mouth. She had been so tired from the party despite only sitting and drinking at their table. Bickering also with dumbasses who tried to spike her friends’ drinks through not-so-secretive methods. Anger boiled inside her once more at the thought.
She gazed outside, the city lights reflecting off every corner of Tokyo, calming her nerves. After she closed the big curtains, she took a towel, wiped her face, and did her face ritual before flopping towards her bed, looking towards the ceiling. Her mind settled into the quiet of the night.
‘It has already been 6 years since then…’
She thought, looking wistfully at her ceiling, her eyes getting hotter by the minute. Memories of the past started to drift in her mind. She shut her eyes in hopes the bitterness of remembering could be shunned. However, it seems her mind is making her its slave; it replayed snippets of memories again and again and again. She lost count as every scene took damage to her concrete walls. She winced as it was so vivid, so real, thanks to the alcohol in her system.
No matter how she focused on other things, strongly and dutifully, her mind drifted to—
No! What the heck is she thinking!?
She did NOT think of him, not now, not ever.
Not the times he made her angry by his words to tick her off. Or the times she was worried by his injuries, and especially not the times his other fiancées would set up elaborate plans to marry him. Or that time he apologized that P-chan was Ryoga? I hate him! Who was he anyways!?
Heck, she did not even reminisce about the normal days at their house in Nerima. Those days when it was just them in their own stupid world, always fighting and bickering. Or even the time in Jusendo, where she misheard him.
She did not even understand why, even after all these years, this date was the only thing that her mind was bound to remember.
‘Heck, I don’t even remember when I celebrated my OWN birthday after all my busy schedule’
A memory suddenly resurfaced.
The engagement.
Her eyes dazed in the darkness of her room. Her eyes flickered with emotions she certainly buried all these years. Swelling up in her chest, croaking a slight sob from her throat.
‘I hate this feeling’
She did not regret letting him go despite breaking her own heart. To let him choose his own destiny. It was just not right to force it, and they were young, too young. She does not even want to be put in the shoes of their fathers, of how they come up with this plan for teenagers barely even knowing how the world works.
But despite that, she was still glad to meet that jerk, that freaking idiot! Because… over their 2 years of being engaged, she realized they found trust and friendship, and… maybe even more? She crashed out of that thought. She didn't know anymore; she was young and in love, which was bound to fail. And him? Heck, she does not even have a clue what goes through that brain of his (or does he even have it?)
Heck, what was SHE even thinking? She even consented to them being married at the cost of him being unconscious. She approved the wedding as soon as he told her he loved her in the cursed springs. Then he denied it on the floor. In her room. Excited and dressed for their wedding. She could feel right then, right there, her heart breaking and tearing her soul a little, maybe too little, too much.
She was no more than a fool, she realized then. It was hopeless.
Of course, that disaster of a wedding didn’t happen, and it was then she slowly patched herself up. Numbing herself. Somewhere along the lines, she unfeels everything. His dumb actions, passivity, and indecision. His actions towards his other cute fiancées. Her incompatibility and inferiority towards her love for martial arts among them and maybe towards him.
Somewhere along the line, she gave up the competition. There was no competition to begin with, she realized. When she knew she was the loser, she gave up everything.
She felt too much. It was just too much to bear for her.
She wanted to escape the limbo.
So she asked her Father and Mr. Saotome, with Auntie Nodoka, to permanently cancel their engagement. She stood her ground with utmost seriousness. Her voice never wavered despite the slight shaking of her finger. Of course, she did not say everything to them, just the points of how young they were and if they loved them as their child, they should let them choose their path.
The memory left a bitter taste in her mouth. It was not easy, actually; she did not even have a talk with him first. A fight between them happened before that; that was for sure. She just dragged him out towards the living room with their parents waiting.
She glanced at the person secretly on her right when their parents began to talk over each other. He looked… serious while looking down at the ground, masked by another emotion she did not recognize. His fists formed on his knees, and Akane saw the slight shake he gave off.
‘What are you thinking?’
She bit her tongue to stop herself from asking, tasting the rust-like flavor. After that day, they did not speak or fight. They just left the house quietly.
But before that, she remembered when she was about to go into her room. Ranma was walking towards her. Surprising the brown-eyed girl, he was standing face to face with a force of nature.
“Akane”
“R-Ranma…” she stuttered. Next to him was holding what seemed to be a bag of clothes. She felt a pang in her chest, lowering her gaze. Tearing off the dark gaze from the blue-eyed boy. She felt ashamed and hurt… and unworthy of his attention.
“I am sorry…” she said quietly. Her hands fidgeted around her dress. If she could melt from a gaze, she would be a puddle of goo right now. She couldn't stand the quiet. His quiet demeanor was not him. Or maybe he was, for moments like this. He was still quiet, contemplative, and she was waiting for him to burst out words she knew too well.
‘You dolt, what is the meaning of this!? You could’ve given me a heads up before going off with that, you freaking idiotic tomboy!’ she thought.
But he didn't. Instead, he stepped forward, the distance running circuits to her mind.
Akane gripped the fabric of her skirt, her knuckles turning stark white. She couldn’t look at him. If she looked at him, she would fall apart, and she needed to be strong enough for both of them right now.
"Please, Ranma... just listen to me for once without yelling," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. "I- I wouldn’t do this if I didn't know, deep down, that this is right. You feel that too, don't you?"
Ranma took a step back, his jaw tightening. He tried to lock his arms across his chest in his usual cocky stance, but his hands were shaking too badly. He forced a harsh, defensive laugh that choked in his throat.
"What the hell are you talking about, Akane?" Ranma spat out, his voice broken.
"Our dads... the dojo... You can't just decide to throw that away because you're having a bad day! I was just... I was just messing around earlier! You know how those girls are, they don't mean anything!"
"That’s exactly it, Ranma!" Akane finally looked up, tears spilling over her eyelashes, her eyes wide and agonizingly clear. "You were messing around. Because you wanted me to scream, or hit you, or prove that I’m keeping you from them. And today, when I looked at you with them... I realized I don't want to fight for a BOY who uses other girls just to see if I’m... hurt."
Ranma flinched as if he’d been struck by an actual blade.
"We’re only eighteen, Ranma." Akane stepped closer, her voice cracking under the weight of a hundred unsaid heartbreaks. "Gods, we're still so young. We're just kids trying to figure out who we even are. You have entire worlds waiting for you out there—mastering your martial arts, breaking your curse, being free to choose whoever you actually want. And I have my own life to find outside of this dojo, outside of us."
She took a shaky breath, stepping close enough to touch him, but keeping her hands clenched at her sides.
"Forcing a future we didn't choose... It’s just keeping us trapped, and it's not giving us what we want. What we actually need."
Ranma stared at her, the fight draining out of him all at once. The loud, arrogant martial artist vanished, leaving behind a boy who looked completely lost. He realized, with a sickening lurch in his chest, that her lack of intervention wasn't because she didn't care—it was because she had finally given up. On him. On them. A single tear cut a path down his cheek, but he didn't wipe it away. He couldn't.
"Trapped?" Ranma whispered, the word tasting like poison. He looked down at his trembling hands, then back at her face. He wanted to call her violent. He wanted to tell her he didn't care. Instead, he just looked broken. "Is that really all I was to you? A trap you had to endure?"
Akane closed her eyes, a choked sob escaping her lips as she turned her back to him, unable to bear the sight of his heartbreak. ‘Of course not, idiot. In fact, I am the one who could have actually trapped you in a mundane dojo, in my own boring world,’ she only thought.
Ranma swallowed the massive lump in his throat. He closed his eyes, letting the tears fall freely now. He turned around to not let her see so weak and broken, walking toward the stairs with heavy, hollow steps, but paused, not looking back.
"You know what? Fine," he said, his voice clipped, though a soft, painful tremble betrayed him. "I—I completely understand, Akane. This whole engagement was a mistake to begin with anyway. And I’m sorry... I’m sorry for acting like an asshole for so long. For putting up with my attitude. Trust me, the feeling is mutual."
He stopped, swallowing hard. The anger that usually consumed him refused to surface, replaced only by a suffocating, heavy numbness. Akane gave a small, barely perceptible nod.
"So I guess this is it then?" Ranma let out a harsh, humorless laugh, though his eyes remained dark and glistening with unshed tears. "Finally. I was getting so damn tired of these constant fights. Finally, I’m free! Thank you, Akane. You’re right... I was already getting so tired of you. Of us."
The words tore through the air like sharp glass. Something inside both of them shattered completely that night — a silent fracture in their bond forever.
Ranma’s feet almost moved on instinct, turning back toward her to take every single word back—to beg, to kneel, to plead that it was all a lie just so he wouldn't lose her. But he froze. His heart hardened in a desperate bid to preserve whatever dignity he had left, even as hers completely broke.
"I would've fought the entire fucking world, Akane, cursed or not," he murmured, his voice suddenly quiet, hollow, and utterly devastated. "Come what may... as long as I got to come home to you at the end of the day. But I guess... I guess you never really needed me anyway."
He looked at her one last time, his gaze heavy with everything he couldn't say.
"Goodbye, Akane."
Before she could answer, he vanished, leaving Akane alone in the hallway, collapsed on her knees, crying into her hands. This created a mayhem of grief; she felt like her soul had been seeped out of her lungs, leaving her unable to breathe. Her Father and sisters were of no help to her, but only in the dojo was she able to calm herself. It's as if losing Ranma was losing life itself.
So when her Uncle called from overseas, who also has a dojo similar to theirs, she begged his father to let him teach her in exchange for the promise that when she turns 25, this year, she will have to find a husband in martial arts and inherit the Tendo Dojo. A challenge she wholeheartedly accepts in her once-young, broken heart.
Her phone beeped. Her attention snapped back to the present. She reached out to read the notification, eyes stinging from the cursed tears that she unknowingly let out.
‘Curse these memories!’ She wiped them off harshly with one hand, the other holding her phone.
Asahi: Don’t forget about tomorrow's spar. Be early. No time for hangovers.
‘Damn,’ she clearly forgot.
She turned off her phone after giving him a like emoji, which was a reply to another complaint of her trainer and a source of comfort, kind of, if he is not being insufferable about pairing her up with men that are up to his tastes. Most probably he already hooked up with too, which is just Ew.
Asahi is only one of her closest friends; she met him back when she was traveling to other Asian countries, learning martial arts with her Uncle after leaving home, a month after Ranma left. He is handsome and a few years older than her. But somehow, despite him being a man and older at that, she didn’t feel threatened or anything whatsoever.
Closing her eyes, she evened her breathing and wiped away the stray tears. She stabilized her emotions by taking deep breaths.
‘I hope you’re okay, wherever you are, you jerk,’ she cursed under her breath.
————
“I swear if you still hit with that sorry excuse of a kick, consider me retired!” Asahi exaggeratedly exclaimed after their spar. Hands waving in the air, Akane just rolled her eyes, pissed off by his remarks about her poor performance today, likely due to the stress she had last evening.
They are drinking from their bottles after their heated training with a new style. A style that Akane most certainly knows of.
“Y’know, if you allow me to talk with Ran-muh, I would really love to be taught by him so that I can teach it to you too, darling.” Akane, disgusted by his implication, shoved his towel hard into his face.
“As if I had any contact with him all these years! And I would rather DIE than have an inkling of that person. Why can’t you just teach me another style then, Hichan!?” Asahi silently took notice when Akane’s hand slightly trembled. He barked out a laugh.
“Girl, you’re like an open book.” He laughed obnoxiously; the piercings on his ears glimmered, making her shoot daggers at him. “As I’ve said, his fighting style could give you an advantage in next Friday's match. With how that gorilla girl’s slow speed but brute strength, she will be knocked down in less than 10 minutes”
“Oh come on, that long? I can take her down by 5. I’ll just combine everything that I had learned and create my own style.” She crossed her arms to her chest. Puffing her chest out in her gym clothes.
Fighting with a hard-headed girl like Akane is what Asahi dreaded the most. And forever thankful to the gods who made him, as he isn’t attracted to women because surely, this girl is too dense to notice her features. He can only rub his temples in response, bracing for an incoming headache, as they have already talked about this before but to no avail; this girl just won’t budge when it comes to this past fling of hers.
“Ugh, fine, as long as you win, though I don’t doubt that, but don’t say that I warn you, Akane. I just don't want any of your blood on your face. It’ll tarnish my reputation!” Asahi said with utmost seriousness.
Asahi, despite being attracted only to men, had been a competent trainer after her Uncle, which meant he didn’t hold back his punches and kicks. He was also very engrossed in the changing trends and different fighting styles, creating some of her signature moves.
Back then, Akane wondered if he could marry her for the sake of the dojo, a lavender marriage, as they say. When she brought it up to him, the look on Asahi's face, like he was about to puke, made her stop this nonsense and laugh in his face. Akane did not even regard it as an insult for refusing her because she apparently knows that Asahi is still in a complicated relationship with his ex-boyfriend. A secret that Asahi fails to cover up.
“You already know what’s at stake here if you lose. HE wouldn’t like it, so you better-”
“Yeah-yeah, got that. Thanks. I’ll win anyways, so don’t make a fuss, Hichan,” she cockingly said to him with a smug smile on her lips. Asahi just rolled his eyes at her, then suddenly attacked her while her defenses were down.
A large thud reverberated across the gym. Akane was actually able to dodge his fist so fast that Asahi’s face was suddenly on the mat of the gym.
“See?” Akane laughed wickedly and released him from her grapple when she saw Asahi’s pained expression.
“Remind me to never do that again. I feel like my bones are about to break.” Akane just smiled.
“You already know me, Hichan; I don’t hold back with surprises”
“Yeah, yeah.” he rolls his shoulders.
“Man, my shoulder hurts. Maybe a hunk can massage me outside today.” His eyebrows wriggling
“Ew! Don’t say that in front of my face”
"Oh, come on, hunks are THE best, especially when it comes down to it.” Akane just gave him a disgusted look at how open he is with these kinds of things.
“That reminds me, you’re going to the salon today?” Akane was already bowing respectfully to him to end their session. Asahi just nodded to her. Akane then proceeded to the exit of the gym with a sports bag in her hand.
“Yeah”
“Show this to the hairdresser; I think this would look good on you, dear.” Akane looked at her phone and saw the photo that he sent. He then gave her a girly goodbye with a slight mwa~, and Akane made a face. She then said goodbye to her trainer before making her way to the shower room.
————
Thursday came, a day before the upcoming match. Akane was now wearing a Gi, while teaching her young students the basic forms of Kata.
Her day job was located in an ordinary dojo in Tokyo that Asahi recommended to her 5 years ago when she was beginning her double-life career in the underground.
She loved teaching the kids, and the kids all loved her. She also had nice co-workers here that she sometimes sparred with when they had no booked sessions from the parents.
“Okay, break time, kids!” she said happily while clapping her hands.
The youngsters all scrambled to get their snacks from their locker room in the dojo hallway and went to the dining room beside it. She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a towel and sat cross-legged on the floor.
“Sensei, you look different…”
Haruka, a 7-year-old boy, grabbed her attention as he stood over her. His cheeks reddened a little bit as he looked away, his mouth pouting. So cute!
“Aww, thanks, Haruka,” she smiled sweetly at him. “I cut off some of my hair. Does it look good on me?” she asked.
“K-kind of.”
She ruffled his hair before pinching his cheeks. A smile plastered on her face
“Haruka! Are you coming or what?” another kid called from the hallway.
“I-I’m coming!” he bows to his Sensei and quickly glances away from Akane, then makes a run for it towards the voice. Her gaze trailed off to the large full-body mirror at her back. When she turned her head, the cut moved with a life of its own; the short layers on top bounced with every step, while the longer, wispy tails at the nape flicked outward against the air. Framing her face were soft, curtain-like bangs that parted just above her lash line. The rest of the cut fell in tousled, shoulder-grazing waves.
She looked a mixture of feminine and effortlessly feral. Which kinda sums up everything about her.
‘Not bad,’ she thought.
After her class, she made calls to her home back in Nerima. She asked for updates from her Father and sisters, as well as the state of the dojo, which had now started to wither and badly needed a renovation. Of course, she insisted on shouldering the expenses, declining the offers from Kasumi and Nabiki, who had left the nest.
Kasumi regularly visits the house, of course, as his husband’s house, Dr. Tofu Clinic, is nearby. Her elder sister had also regularly eaten together with her father and their niece. Meanwhile, Nabiki also migrated to another country and visits them once in a while. Leaving her Father alone at the house sometimes.
“Akane! My dearest daughter, I hope you understand...” Her father’s tone slightly made Akane uneasy in her seat. Her eyebrows furrowed.
“What is it, Dad?” She heard a gulp on the other end of the line. She could feel the nervousness in her Father's voice, which she found odd and uncomfortable. A long silence on the phone passed as her father came up with another sentence.
“You've already grown up into a lady. Of course, after all the years teaching there in the city, it had honed you and perhaps freed you from everything that's holding you back here." 'Okaaay?' she thought. Akane did not understand how the conversation transitioned to her. She furrowed his eyebrows, trying to dissect where the conversation was going.
"Dad, come on. Are you really alright? Are you sick? Daddy, I already told you to not push yourself too much! Please let Kasumi-nee-san assist you to the clinic." She rambled, her thoughts haywire that her loving father might have contracted some kind of sickness.
"No! I-I'm more than fine! Akane, my darling. The thing is… I don't know how to say this without making you upset." She sighed a breath of relief and laughed at him.
"Come on, Dad, I'm not a kid anymore. Why would I be upset about anything, especially coming from you?" she said.
"The Saotomes are living with me right now," he quietly said. She heard another shuffle on the line. She can now hear distant voices in the living room of their house, indicating her Father is not alone.
"He is here”