Not Quite Like That
Ninnik Nishukan

It is the day before, and all bets have been made, Nabiki making sure the greatest portion of them were placed with her. Some are worried, some happy, but all are excited. This time tomorrow it will all be over, everything will be cleared up, at least as far as Kuonji Ukyo is concerned. A clean, simple fight about Ranma-- then there will be no mistake about it. The loser gives up on him, as easy as that. Nabiki will make sure that it’s final. There’s certainly going to be a sufficient amount of eye witnesses, even though the average Nerimian mob isn’t always all that dependable.

Ukyo looks inside her empty mailbox, her eyes equally empty for a moment. When she walked past her rival's house on her way home, she caught sight of all the parcels and letters and cards, varying in size, all stuffed into or spilling out of the Tendo mailbox, a few scattered across the pavement, even. The postman had obviously given up on trying to make them fit inside. And all these were most likely bearing the same name, sent to the same person, and all were undoubtedly containing the essentially same messages.
I wish you luck, I have every faith in you, Akane-san, or maybe Why risk your life in a fight for Ranma when you can date me instead, dear Akane?

Signed: Some friend or admirer

And nothing for her. Not a single note, card, anything, not even one. Just her usual bills. Suddenly she feels a little bitter; why isn't my mailbox flowing over? I’m cute and friendly and pleasant, too, aren't I? They could have at least sent her a fake note, just to...just to flatter her so she would give them free okonomiyaki, or just something. Anything.

She shakes her head; what’s she thinking? Honestly! Why would she want that? Akane must be flattered, of course, but what could a load of love letters from people she has hardly looked at twice really mean to her? If she has any sense, she must be angered by the fact that they pretend to know her, while really only lusting after her looks and her popularity, and the prestige that comes from dating her. Ukyo knows they have been chasing Akane like a prize almost since day one of her attendance at Furinkan high school. But Akane has some friends there too, and they've sent her best to her, wishing her luck, and that would be kinda nice, to have someone rooting for you. Ukyo shrugs it all off, it isn't like she's been going out of her way to make any friends at Furinkan, she's been to busy with school, homework, her restaurant, her martial arts training and her schemes to get Ranma. Besides, dressing the way she dresses and keeping mostly to herself, it is no wonder that she doesn't have any admirers.
Still...there should have been something.

Ukyo sighs. Ah well...
She knows she doesn't need supportive gifts and letters to win this thing. She is aware that she is the better fighter, and her martial arts training has taught her not to be nervous, even in front of a big crowd. Trying to smirk confidently, she catches her reflection in the shop window. It tells her that her smirk looks more like a sickly grin. She sighs again, her expression reverting to its neutral state.
"Kuonji-san?"
She turns; it's Takeshi, the mailman, a married man of about forty; he and his wife are regular customers at Ucchan's. Like almost everyone else in Nerima, he knows about the fight, and has promised to root for her and be sure to bring her any letters concerning the fight or Ranma. Ukyo's heart rises a moment with hope. Can this mean...the one letter she's been waiting for the most…?
"Yes?"
He smiles at her. "I'm sorry, Kuonji-san, the mail is running a little late today. Well, here's yours." He hands her the mail, waves and walks away.
"Thanks." Ukyo looks down at her hand. Only two letters? Hmm...better than nothing, anyway...
Locking herself into the shop, she walks over to the counter and puts down the bills, then examines the first envelope, which is white...then there's the other one. It's pink! And it smells oddly intriguing. Her breath skips. What if--
She carefully opens it and pulls out a note.

Spatula Girl,

Good luck. Shampoo hope you get violent girl out Shampoo's way.
Shampoo admit rather have you with Airen than violent girl, she no can
cook, Shampoo no want Airen poisoned. But later, after fight, Shampoo
challenge Spatula Girl. You no let go Airen, Shampoo will make you let go.

Shampoo

Ukyo stares at the note. So much for a pink love letter. She is kind of amused, though; Shampoo actually paid her a compliment, in her own weird way. As for the death challenge, Shampoo's a tougher nut to crack than Akane, but she'll have to take this one fight at a time. At least she's pretty certain that Akane won't try to kill her, or that she'll want to try to kill Akane. As for Shampoo, it seems she has no qualms about killing someone. But for now, time to read the second letter. She opens the envelope, and out tumbles an even smaller note. She picks it up and flips it over, then reads.

Ukyo,

I hope you don't win.

Ryoga

The note crumbles between her angry, twitching fingers. What the hell?! Next to Ranchan, he's her best friend! How could he?!
Sure, she guesses it would be only natural for him to want to root for Akane, and not want her to be hurt, but still...how can he send her a note like this, clearly aiming to discourage her? This doesn't seem like him, does it?!
That's it! First there's no support at all, then only a death challenge and a horrible insult from whom she thought was her closest friend and scheming partner! This is too much!
Her shoulders tremble with rage as she closes up her store and walks purposefully down the street, still clutching the offensive note in her hand. Oh, yes, she's gonna find him, and then he damn well better have a good explanation for all of this! Ooh, is he gonna get it if he doesn't have anything to say for himself! She shudders, tears threatening to sprout from her eyes, but she pushes the sadness away and focuses on her rage. How dare he?!

After stomping around in a rage for a few hours, Kuonji Ukyo realizes that actually finding Ryoga Hibiki, Eternally Lost Boy, however, proves not to be as easy as she thought.

The fight. 

Expectations are high; exciting, dangerous, possibly deadly--

The crowd.

Well, it's crowded. Crowded, hollering, impatient, and above all-- highly profitable. Glorious.

Nabiki counts up the big wad of yen she's raked in from the bets this crowd has put down. Oh, Nerimians so like to gamble on fights, she sighs, a mock frown of exasperation on her features, easily and quickly replaced by a Cheshire grin. Today was a good day--

Except...

There's Ukyo. Glancing over at her, Nabiki's frown is genuine this time. She looks...what? Angry? Confused? Sad? The odd mixture of emotions running across her face makes it hard to decipher what she's feeling. Nabiki taps her chin in thought. Could she-- would Ukyo actually hurt her sister? Has Akane actually gotten better or did she simply give the challenge to Ukyo out of stubborn pride? Everyone knows that Ukyo has always been more talented than Akane, but lately "everyone" also knows that several people has helped Akane train-- a nice little bit of hot gossip Nabiki has earned big money on. Nerimians loved scheming as much as a juicy fight. 

Ryoga, Mousse, Ranma, Cologne and even Happosai-- they'd all helped her a bit each, and Akane had for once shoved some initiative and had asked them for their assistance seperately, so that none of them were aware of who else was training her or what she was learning. It seems like my baby sister is finally growing up and even growing some brains in the process, Nabiki muses now. What irks her, however, was that she hadn't been able to find out just what kind of techniques Akane has been taught, either, though rumour has it that Akane has donated quite a sizeable portion of her underwear to Happosai to get him to teach her the ultimate Happofire Burst, much more powerful than a few measly firecrackers. It doesn't quite seem like something that her tomboy sister would do, but who knows--

She looks at Akane, standing there in her white gi, grim determination etched on her face. Nabiki doesn't know what will happen if Akane loses-- sure, she's aware that the terms are that the loser will have to give up Ranma, but something about Akane's expression tells her with some certainty that this fight for Ranma doesn't simply concern him. If she, Akane, lost, there would be a lot more riding on it than Ranma. She's been training for months, giving it all she has, and if she loses… well, Akane has always been the less skilled fighter of the Nerimian Super Humans-- as Nabiki has playfully labeled them-- mainly due to the less variated training she used, her wrong focus, her temper and the fact that she never honed her skills with her ki. But the point was-- she always got kidnapped, she always got rescued, she could never win a fight-- and she got sick of it.

Nabiki is quite sure that these are the thoughts churning around in Akane's head right now. But as for Ukyo-- her motive is Ranma. Nabiki hums a listless tune as she studies the statistics. At first, it was 78% in Ukyo's favour and 22% for Akane, but after Nabiki got the rumour mill running on this fight, the bets are now Ukyo 59% and Akane 41%. Tendo Nabiki hates being uncertain.  

Nabiki spots a well-known shade of blue in the corner of her eye, and sure enough; at the edge of the crowd stands Kuno Tatewaki, everything in his stance showing that he's regarding the ring with an air of detached interest. Surreptitiously she reaches for her set of opera binoculars, especially bought for keeping track of important fights like these, or to check the mood of the crowd by getting a closer look at their faces. Now it serves her quite excellently for getting a closer look at what's up with Kuno-chan. She frowns; the expression in his eyes tells her that he seems more on the edge of reality than of the crowd. 

Nabiki is used to seeing Kuno-chan standing by himself, but not like this, not this quiet, this introvert-- Kuno's usually a whole crowd by himself with all his poetry, challenges, loud, amorous declerations of admiration to girls who doesn't want him, and, of course there's the self-righteous proclamations. Then there's also the occasional bellows of "Saotome, you fiend" or the ever-present, exasperated 'Thyne heart is truly cold, Tendo Nabiki' everytime she gives a cynical comment or over-prizes her pictures. Come to think of it, Kuno-chan hasn't been asking her about any new pictures lately, nor talked to her at all, really. To be honest, he's been avoiding her all week. Why could that be?

Yes, Tendo Nabiki really hates being uncertain.

Kuonji Ukyo catches herself before she sighs depressively. She can't be standing here like this, showing weakness right before a fight! But it's so hard not to, she has to push herself hard to paste a glare across her features and clutch her spatula threateningly. She didn't get much sleep last night, lying awake, thinking agonizingly self-destructive thoughts, but managed to force herself to sleep after a few hours. She had to get some rest or she'd be dead beat. Or just beaten, period. After her initial rage had tapered away last night, it was like someone threw a punch into her gut. It was a horrible thing for someone to realize, but yesterday it slowly dawned on her that she was alone; no letters from Ranma, only a death wish from Shampoo, and then the painful note from whom she thought was a good friend. 

Sure, Mousse had come over later that day to wish her good luck and to ask if she wanted him to teach her a technique before the fight, but she just didn't have the heart or the energy to do so. It was nice of him, really, but she'd heard the rumours and knew that he'd been training Akane and that he didn't care either way who won, as long as someone got Ranma out of his way. The extent to which he cared was probably just that he didn't want her to be hurt now that Akane had gotten much better. Other than that, it probably didn't matter much to him; Ukyo and Mousse had never been particularly close. There had been some instances when he'd been at her restaurant, eating okonomiyaki and ranting about his feelings for Shampoo and trying to boost her confidence so she'd keep going after Saotome Ranma, but...that was it. He was too wrapped up in Shampoo for Ukyo to consider being a real friend to him. 

But Ryoga...lately he’s been coming over more and more often, and they were actually having what could be classified as civil conversations. At first it was just discussions about Ranma and Akane, but when Ryoga had asked her about how she was doing one night, genuine interest lighting up his otherwise dark eyes, soon the conversation was flowing freely and they had ended up going up to her apartment, eating popcorn and watching a movie. This was something Ukyo had never-- well, when had she-- she can't remember. She hasn't had a real friend in, well, not since Ranchan and her were kids, really. 

Ukyo sighs; she loves Ranma and everything, but there are just so many things in the way that she never gets to talk properly with him anymore, never gets to spend any time with him before someone interrupts. And what with all the other fiancées, Ranma has seemingly begun to associate the word "fiancée" with mayhem, chaos, pain and uncomfortable situations-- and not with understanding, a gentle touch, a quiet conversation. That's what she wants-- she doesn't want to be so— so lonely. 

For a split second, she clenches her eyes shut and forces her tears down like yesterday. Ukyo swallows; she thought she and Ryoga had something special, that she could trust him, that they were friends-- and now he turns on a dime and stabs her in the back. After that first evening, many others followed, making her life seem brighter somehow.

The whole P-chan issue had of course been adressed eventually, involving accidentally spilled water at Ucchan’s one evening at exactly the wrong time, a shouting match and then— then that intensely relieved look in Ryoga’s face as he realized that the reason Ukyo was angry at him was that he hadn’t told her, who was rapidly becoming his best friend, about his biggest secret, and not because she was disgusted with him. After that evening, trust seemed to be simply building a comfortable shelter around the two, finally freeing them of their awkward bickering and silly quarrels. Well, almost, anyway, Ukyo smiles wistfully.

They were experimenting in the kitchen one day last week after closing time—was it only last week, Ukyo wonders briefly, suddenly it seems so far away--  after Ryoga had challenged Ukyo to make something other than okonomiyaki. It ended in a food fight, of course, Ukyo finally tackling Ryoga, both hitting the floor in a burst of flour; then one of those hanging-by-a-thread moments as they lay dead quiet on the floor, staring at each other, breathing quietly--

Then there had been the knock at the door, and Ukyo got up, hastily brushing some of the flour off of her clothes and rushing to the door. Takeshi had handed her a letter with a solemn expression on his face. 

The challenge had changed everything around. It was as if she'd started pitching a tent in the middle of a peaceful forest, but hadn't quite managed to get it up before a violent storm came and blew it all away. That's how it feels now, anyway, she thinks wistfully. After receiving the disconcerting news of a challenge from Akane, Ryoga had left her with the mess in the kitchen, mumbling some lame excuse before practically running out of her house. He must have been reminded of the fact that me and Akane are rivals, Ukyo thinks, biting her lip. And we can't be friends with someone who opposes cute little Akane, now can we?  She adds bitterly.   

After the formal introductions, even though everyone knows who the two teenage girls in the ring are, the bell rings, and as if her head has been cleared by magic, Ukyo finally comes out of the fog and sizes her opponent up seriously. She's wearing her usual karate gi, but something is different. She has a weapon. Not the mallet, but what Ukyo recognizes as a shi-komi-zue, otherwise known as a bo staff. Ukyo remembers doing quite a lot of training with shi-komi-zues when she was a kid, since it is the simplest weapon and not razor-sharp like her spatula. Only...only Akane's shi-komi-zue is steel-capped on both ends, and even a length of the wood in the middle part of the staff is protected by a layer of steel. 

Spinning her spatula, Ukyo advances carefully towards Akane, who steps calmly forward, moving her shi-komi-zue in slow but graceful motions from hand to hand before gripping it firmly with both hands. 

When Ukyo thinks Akane’s gonna charge as usual, mindless anger on two legs—sort of like Ryoga— she side-steps instead and the surprised okonomiyaki chef hardly has time to block her shi-komi-zue. Not even the usual weapon-above-head swing which anyone calm enough to consider would realize is oh-so-stupid, as it gives the opponent a more than fair chance to block, not to mention more than enough time in which to do it in. But isn’t that exactly what’s happened? Akane-san has calmed down.

So now there’s a composed yet viscious low blow aimed to swipe Ukyo’s feet away from under her. She considers briefly making a sly comment as she counters the attempt at her feet quite easily despite her surprise, but somehow she can’t utter a word today, doesn’t feel like talking, doesn’t quite know what she’s doing—

Hell, of course she’s aware of the fight, Akane, her improved skills; she’s measuring her up,  considering Akane, yet—it’s as if Ukyo’s running on some sort of auto pilot. Ukyo’s fighting well, taking her jabs, blocking Akane’s every kick when she moves forward, but the thing is—Ukyo’s not being offensive, just defensive. Akane feels the well-known irritation and anger starting to seep through, very, very slowly. Akane’s trying to take her time now, light on her feet, hanging back like a boxer, but she can see that’s something’s not right with Ukyo, she’s not trying to attack her, just hanging back—but that’s what Akane’s been taught to do, that’s what she’s picked up on while watching Ranma! Size up your opponent, consider him or her, hang back, don’t excert yourself—but now she’s forced to attack, to be the old offensive Akane! Ukyo’s stolen her secret plan! Ukyo was supposed to be angry about the challenge, wasn’t she? Isn’t she supposed to be fighting heartily for her Ranchan with all her might and all that stuff?

“Dammit, Ukyo,” she hisses almost inaudibly, “why won’t you give me a good ol’ whack with that giant spatula, for the love of—“ her annoyed little plea drowns in a growl. Ukyo sees that Akane’s already starting to lose her temper, yet she can’t bring herself to grin. What’s with her?

The crowd roars as Akane, still looking composed but possessing an internal fire only evident to Ukyo now, lets her shi-komi-zue connect with Ukyo’s spatula over and over, forcing her to participate, forcing her to block. Ukyo frowns slightly; Akane’s always had brute strength, that’s true, and she’s aware that she can’t keep blocking these hard strikes forever. Grunting, she pushes Akane a little away from herself with her spatula handle and swipes at her feet like Akane tried on her. Akane leaps away quite easily, but then Ukyo didn’t expect anything less from her. It was just to get some distance between them anyway.

Akane does an impressive flip in the air before aiming a flying kick towards Ukyo’s jaw. Ukyo gulps as she barely avoids it by doing several backflips away from Akane. The uncertain frown still plastered on Ukyo’s face, she pulls out something from the small backpack she’s wearing, and with a familiar cry of—

“RUBBER YAKISOBA!”

-- Akane is trapped, her weapon dropping to the ground.

Finally Ukyo allows herself a small grin—

-- which fades just as quickly as Akane works a knife out of her gi pants, cutting some of the rubber quite awkwardly yet quickly before simply tearing through the rest by brute strength.

Damn you Mousse, Ukyo swears to herself before Akane clips her on the jaw. Angry at herself for allowing Akane to get through her defences, she grabs Akane’s arm in a reflex, slamming her down into the floor of the boxing ring. Though she gives a grunt of pain, however, Akane simply bounces up again and onto her feet.

The crowd cheers.

Ukyo takes a deep breath before eyeing Akane standing there, hardly breaking a sweat. Then again, neither am I, she counters, before they lock weapons once again. Akane’s picked up her weapon again and the fight is back in business.

As the fight progresses, Ukyo wonders if she should use another one of her special attacks to scare Akane a little-- since she’s taught herself a couple of new ones since her whole repetoire consisted mainly of yakisoba and flour-- and now she’s waiting for an opening. She only used the good ol’ rubber yakisoba trick because she believes firmly in the saying “don’t play an ace if a two of cloves is good enough” and wanted to save some surprises for later, but now she’s getting tired of this fight, the crowd, her thoughts, her opponent—and she just wants to win this thing already. She finds her opening when a well-placed kick cracks across Akane’s ribs, making her stumble, and she’s about to try her favorite new attack—

“Ryoga.”

At the sight of the too familiar face in the crowd, she’s surprised at how weak, how dead her own voice sounds like, how heavy her legs seem—

“BAKUSAI—“

“Wha—?” She murmurs, momentarily confused as she’s shaken out of her daze. For how long has she been staring?

“TENKETSU!”

And there it ends.

The crowds roars as she’s thrown out of the ring in a graceful arch; the crowd goes wild as she’s landing face first in the dirt. Coughing, Ukyo raises her head and looks over her shoulder. There, among the debris of a big rock, Akane stands triumphantly.

The attack came from her. Akane has won.

A single thought shoves all else aside in Ukyo’s mind. Where the hell did the friggin’ boulder come from?! Probably from the same place as that damn mallet, she thinks bitterly. She could protest, couldn’t she? She could—but then, wouldn’t she sound like a terribly sore loser? And wouldn’t Nabiki start debating whether yakisoba qualified as a weapon?

Ukyo catches Akane's bubbly, mirthful laughter, and has to admit to herself that it's not a malevolent laughter; if she wasn't crawling in the dirt, it would be easy to join in on it. It's that kind of laughter. 

"Hah! I did it, I won! In your face, Saotome Ranma!" Akane proclaims excitedly as the crowd continues in their enthusiasm.  

Ranchan must have egged her on the whole time, teasing her, defying her to win, saying that she couldn't, Ukyo realizes. And Ranchan's not a bad person, he probably  did it so she could use her pride and her defiance as her driving forces. He wanted Akane to win...

Arms, arms on her, trying to grab her shoulders— batting them away, looking up—

Him. Him! His technique, Akane used it, Ukyo lost—his technique—

I hope you don’t win.

It just had to be his technique.

“Bakusai tenketsu…” She murmurs, exhaling sharply, fighting back a sob.

“Ukyo…”

Such a quiet voice, Ukyo thinks, sighing.

I hope you don’t win.

“I hate you.”

“U-Ukyo—“

“Where were you this week, you bastard?” Ukyo chokes out.

“I- I—“ Stuttering, the fool. As always.

“Don’t bother, I know what you’ve been doing,” Ukyo continues, her voice surprisingly stable. “Teaching her how to beat me.”

“Ukyo…” Brown eyes, trying to make eye contact with her, strong hands trying to touch her arms, trying to stop her from twisting away. “I had to, she asked me.”

Ukyo makes an odd sound, a cross between a broken sob and a gasp of outrage. “Sure you did! Everyone had to! She needed a whole team behind her, didn’t she?” Ukyo growls. “While independent, boyish Ukyo needs no one, right?”

I hope you don’t win.

Ryoga shakes his head sadly. “I…she did need that help, you know.” He says carefully.

Ukyo just scowls.

“And I can’t say I’m n-not…h-happy for her, for winning.”

Ukyo rises abruptly to her feet, actually knocking Brick Wall Hibiki over. “Is that right?” She sneers. “Well, why don’t you go and celebrate with her?!”

Ryoga stares at her from his sprawling position in the dirt, looking more lost than ever. “Ukyo! I had to, you might have injured her! Look, you just bowled me over without even thinking about it, for kamisama’s sake!”

“Oh, sure, you had to protect little Akane-chan from Ukyo the big, manly ox, right?” Ukyo’s horrified that tears are actually springing to her eyes now, tears she thought she reserved for Ranma. “Who are you kidding, I could never beat you in a fight!”

Ryoga looks awkwardly at her as he gets up. “Um, okay, I’ll admit I’d probably win, but…Akane would have been in danger if we hadn’t all taught her—“

“Fuck you!” Ukyo screams, startled at herself even as the harsh words leaves her throat. “Akane’s all you ever care about, what everyone ever cares about!” She fishes around in her pocket before she throws something at him. “Why don’t you just show this to her and you can all have a jolly good time!”

Hurt and angry, she stomps off.

Ryoga catches what she threw at him before trying to reach out to her. “Ukyo!” He yells desperately after her. “It’s all a misunder—“

“I hate you! Get lost again, you freak!”

“—standing…”

A lump of bitter sorrow bobbing in his throat, refusing to let itself get swallowed, he watches her until she’s out of sight before he looks down at the note he’s holding.

Ukyo,

I hope you don’t win.

Ryoga

“Oh. So it’s all comes down to the simple fact that I’m an idiot.” He mumbles bitterly before crushing the note in his hand.  

Akane, spotting Ryoga by the side of the ring, makes an elegant leap, landing beside him, leaving her admirers behind. "Ryoga! I wanted to say thanks for helping me, and--" She frowns. "Hey, where's Ukyo? I wanted to shake her...hand?" Her voice trails off uncertainly as she catches Ryoga's shattered expression. "What's wrong, Ryoga-kun?" 

"I did something really stupid. I have to find her." He says with resolution, the pain and the shame evident in his eyes.

Akane hesitates for a moment, then nods at him before turning to find Ranma as she wonders what's going on, several disturbing scenarios involving Ukyo running through her mind, the guilt threatening to overcome her. "Okay, just wait here for a second." She's never seen Ryoga this way; usually he's much more melodramatic and loud when he's upset. This must be serious.  

Ukyo's dirty shoes are lying in the middle of the kitchen floor where she headlessly kicked them off, too angry to put them nicely aside in the genkan as she usually does. Slamming the tea kettle on the stove, flicking the stove on with almost more force than the plasic switch can handle, she fights to gain control. She lost the fight, her fiancée and her best friend all in one day. "Pretty good going, Kuonji!" She hisses between her teeth as she rips the packet of tea open, accidentally spilling most of the tea leaves on the floor. She just lets the damn things lie, not bothering to sweep them up. Cursing as she prepares her tea cup and the leaves, for a moment she considers downing a bottle of sake instead. She's just too frustrated to prepare food right now; if she were to make an okonomiyaki this instant, it would be a ruined, charcoaled mess. "Geez, Kuonji! Sake? Only losers drink when they're depressed!" Her eyes well up with treacherous tears, and she wipes at them. "And over a jerk like him, too..."

Ukyo’s pouring herself some hot water when someone comes into her kitchen. Startled, she spins on her heel, her reflexes cat-like.

She doesn’t stay startled for very long, though.

“Fuck— I don’t believe this!” She growls, lounging herself at the intruder, primal anger making her claw and kick instead of putting her martial arts to good use. “What the hell are you doing here, you—you jackass?!”

Yelping, Ryoga manages to catch her wrists after a while, holding her still. Wriggling, she almosts cries in frustration as she’s rendered helpless.

“Why didn’t you at least knock, you inconsiderate—“ She wheezes.

“I’m sorry, I just thought you wouldn’t let me in,” Ryoga tries to frantically apologize.

“Damn right!” She exclaims. “Don’t you know when to consider yourself uninvited, you friggin’ vampire posterchild?!”

Ryoga blinks in confusion for a second before shaking his head. “Look, I just have a few things that I wanna—“

Tripping across Ukyo's shoes on the kitchen floor, Ryoga stumbles forward, losing his balance and accidentally knocking Ukyo’s back painfully against the kitchen sink and himself against her.

Suddenly Ukyo realizes that she’s afraid; she's perfectly aware of how strong Ryoga can be. “Ryoga,” she says meekly, her voice almost trembling, “first you betray me, then you trespass into my home and now you’ve got me backed into a corner, hurting my wrists—“

Ryoga stares at her, uncomprehending.

“Please don’t—“

“Ukyo—“

“I know I fought Akane, but d-don’t hurt me— don’t—“

Ryoga lets go of her as quickly as if she were a poisonous snake.

“Wha— why—“ He babbles, his hairline glowing red-hot with embarassment, shock and outrage. “U-Ukyo…” He can’t stop staring at Ukyo, shivering there against the kitchen sink, her clothes covered in dirt. How can she think that I—

“Ukyo, wh-why are you so mad at me?” He finds his own voice trembling even more than hers, and he clenches his fists in an attempt to gain control. He doesn’t like how this is going at all, and furthermore he doesn’t even understand what it is that’s going on. Ryoga knew that Ukyo was mad, but not that she was this hurt, that she was-- he didn't think it was this bad! “When did I hurt you so much that you can’t trust me anymore?”

Ukyo stares as hard at him as he does at her, before she looks down. “I…didn’t you…the note…”

Comprehension dawns. “The note.” He says flatly.

She just nods, shivering, still looking away.

“The note. Yeah.” He shakes his head. “Living proof that I really am a jackass, anyway.”

Finally she glances at him. “Hmm?”

He turns beet red once again, but with some clearly different emotions than the last time, more like shy embarassment, and some sense of wonder creeps slowly across her. “Ukyo…I…it was just a very poorly written note.”

“What?” She murmurs. “Are you suggesting the handwriting was so bad that I misinterpreted it?”

“N-no, I just…” He scratches his head. “I was trying to get a message across, but this clearly wasn't the way to go.”

Ukyo looks puzzled, expectant, and he swallows nervously with performance anxiety.

“S-so, anyway…I wrote…I, uh…I hope you, um…”

“Don’t win.” Ukyo states bluntly.

“Yeah. That.” Ryoga bites his lip. “What I meant was…well, I didn’t want Akane to end up getting hurt, for one…"As he glances up quickly, he notices Ukyo’s knuckles whitening, and he knows he’s treading on dangerous ground again. “Uh, what I meant was…uh…I…I wanted Akane to win the fight, because then she’d end up with…” He winced slightly, “Ranma.”

Ukyo looks confused. “What? But that doesn’t make sense! Why would you want that?”

Ryoga sighs in exasperation. “Listen, bear with me here, I’m not too good with words and stuff, otherwise we wouldn’t be in this mess.”

Ukyo slips into a kitchen chair, taking her mug of tea with her as she listens to Ryoga, her eyes never leaving him.

“Okay, here goes…Akane ending up with Ranma, well, that’s, uh, nice for Ranma and everything, and nice for Akane too, I guess, but th-that’s…well, um…that’s besides the point, really…”

“Which is?” Ukyo prompts carefully, still not getting it.

Ryoga turns his back to her, running his hands across his tired face, tangling his fingers in his thick, black hair before dropping them limply at his side. “The point, Ukyo, was that I didn’t want y-you to end up with him. So I wanted you to lose.”

Ukyo is stunned. “Wait, you mean you don’t think I should get Ranchan? Hey now, hold on a minute here—“

“But I guess that’s besides the point too, since you h-hate me now.” Ryoga adds quietly, cutting her off.

Ukyo pauses. “R-Ryoga?”

”Like I said, it was a lousy note,” Ryoga mumbles, still keeping his back to her. “I wrote it one late night and I had no idea how to put things.”

“Things…?” Ukyo whispers, fascinated, her voice going all wishy-washy again.

“So I thought I’d go for something simple.” He snorts at himself. “Looks like it was too simple, huh?”

Ukyo slips off her chair again, leaving the mug on the table, and as Ryoga turns under Ukyo’s searching eyes, he feels like a deer caught in the headlights of a car. He swallows audibly, taking a small step back.

“Said too much, didn’t I?” He asks in a brittle voice.

Ukyo considers him for a moment, then very slowly shakes her head. “Too little.”

“How about…I'm sorry?”

She looks down at her hands, nodding, suddenly shy. “And then…how about the rest of your little explanation?”

Ryoga expression grows into a serious frown. “I…I can’t say it.”

Ukyo’s gaze fixes itself on some distant point or maybe a speck of lint on his shoulder. “Oh.”

Ryoga frowns deeper at the disappointment in her voice, wringing his hands in indecision. He takes a deep breath—

“O-okay. But don’t kill me.”

Ukyo frowns nearly as deeply as him at this unexpected turn of events. Don’t kill him?

“I…I’ve been hanging around here lately, and…”

“Mmm?”

“I guess I just realized along the way that…that you’re a wonderful girl. I like you, Ukyo.”

Ukyo grows quiet.

“You’re smart, you're a talented martial artist and you’re funny," He looks at her, allowing himself a grin. "There's something about your slightly cynical sense of humour that hits me right here, you know. Something about it tells me that you've risen above life's misfortunes, that you've learned to rather laugh at them, tap-dance on their back with spiky heels than let them engulf you like I've done." He clasps her hands in his briefly, his eyes locking with hers for a moment. "With you I feel a sort of connection, a sort of understanding, something requited." Trembling involuntarily over the deep gaze she is sending him, he decides to move the conversation over to something less serious, letting go of her hands, amazed that he dared to touch them in the first place; amazed that he's managed to confess this much already.  

"Oh my, how eloquent, Ryoga. You've had a lot of time to think this over, haven't you?" She grins at him jokingly, attempting to conceal the fact that her knees and hands are shivering with something she can't quite identify.

His chuckle gets mixed up with a sigh of relief; at least Ukyo isn't angry or outraged. "Yeah, I guess," He blushes, embarassed at his own elaborate speech.

"You’re fun to be with. You’re a great card player and I love the movies you choose for us to watch together, I love our casual bickering and I think it's exciting to go sparring with you. I love hearing you laugh and I love making you laugh, Ukyo. Sometimes I even act stupid just to hear you giggle. Even when the laughter it's at my expense, it doesn't feel bad, because I’m comfortable around you, unlike around many other girls, who often seem to want to make me feel embarassed in one way or the other once they find out how shy I am." He fidgets, looking nervously at her, yet a soft expression dwells in his eyes. "You're not like that, Ukyo. You always seem to go out of your way to make people feel comfortable. For one thing, you treat your customers so well, not to mention that you’re a fantastic chef, and... you're so honest, so kind and good...and...well, you always seem to have something nice to say to people, you seem to know how to cheer people up and make them feel relaxed. Somehow, on some level, I knew that you would be understanding about my curse, that you wouldn't beat me to a pulp or something over it." 

Ukyo can't help it, and the nervous giggle slips out. "Didn't quite seem like it at the time. Hmm," She scratches her chin in a parody of pondering. "I seem to recall a certain boy yelling something about not making him today's pork special."

"Hey! I never said that!" Ryoga huffs, feeling a little put out. 

Ukyo starts laughing, a sound which of course instantly softens Ryoga's features. Now, after her attention has been drawn to the effect her laughter has on him, she can't help noticing. She coughs, looking away, rubbing at the silly speck of dust or something she just got in her suddenly suspiciously moist eyes.

"There's something special about you, Ukyo." Ryoga continues softly. "You're both strong and gentle at the same time, and you're just so...you're...”

She glances at him, quirking an eyebrow, trying to look casual, trying to hide her intensifying blush, her reaction to such massive amounts of praise; such deep, evidently very closely considered praise, almost like he's been practising what to say. Knowing Ryoga, he probably has, she thinks, strangely giddy at the notion. "Babbling?"

“Beautiful.”

“R-Ryo—“

“I care about you, Ukyo. You’ve made me feel like I have a life, like I’m not alone. When you smile it makes me happy, and I’ve got—“ He looks away, reddening. “Kamisama, this is so embarassing!”

“What? You’ve got what?”

“A, a…I’ve got a…”

“Ryoga?”

“I’ve got a crush on you.” He refuses to look at her. “There. Okay?”

Ukyo chokes back a shocked sob. “I don’t know what to…”

“It’s okay as long as you don’t h-hate me.”

“Ryoga…” She murmurs, slipping her arms around his waist, pressing her palms against his muscled ribcage as her tears run trails down his shirt. "Why didn't you put that in the note instead, you idiot?" She makes a grimace, the happy tears threatening to overwhelm her. "I care about you, too. In fact I care about you a lot, sweetheart." She sniffs a little. "You make me feel so safe, Ryoga, like nothing's going to harm me. So safe and warm and...and appreciated, and in turn I feel like taking care of you. I feel so worried about you when you're depressed. I really don't like it!"

"I-I'm sorry," Ryoga tries to amend, feeling terrible.

Ukyo shakes her head, making soft little shushing noises. He doesn't need to apologize. "It makes me feel a little helpless, and I want nothing more than to reach out to you in some way. It's true that I try to be perky most of the time, sugar, to be cute and make people feel happy, but...no one can be like that all the time. But then there's you. Everytime I start to feel down myself, there's you." 

"Ukyo..." He says tenderly, savouring her warmth and her words.

She grins weakly. "Who'd have thought someone as gloomy as you could make me feel so good about myself, huh? It seems like every time you see me hurting, you pull yourself together for my sake, and it makes me feel very special, like I really matter. You can be very strong and gentle too, Ryoga. When someone shows interest in you and cares about you, you act so responsible, so protective, so loyal, and it feels like you wouldn't betray them even for a cure for P-Chan." She thumps his chest lightly. "But otherwise you drop like a sack of potatoes, you jackass, because it seems you don't care enough about yourself to bother. I know that game, I used to play it all the time before I finally pulled myself together. Well, I want you to know that I care, and that you better start liking yourself, because I sure as hell like you a lot, sugar." 

His breathing grows more rapid as he gently holds Ukyo to his chest, listening to her confessions. 

"I love how you always want to help me clean the restaurant or carry stuff for me even though you know I'm fully capable of doing it myself, and how you always compliment my cooking and never forget to say thanks for anything. I think my regulars are starting to like you, too-- they're always asking about the 'polite young man', anyway. You never say no to helping anyone--" Ukyo pauses for a moment. "Except Ranma, that is, and I guess that's understandable."

Ryoga scowls for a second at the mention of Ranma's name before Ukyo continues. "You're just so much sweeter than the other guys I know! The boys at school all seem to be interested in sports, beer and cheesy, violent action movies and porn, while you-- well, I've never seen you drink and I guess the martial art makes up for the sports and violence in our lives, and as for porn--"

"Ukyo!" Ryoga protests, drawing a little away from her, the faint beginnings of a nosebleed under his blushing nose.

"Well, there's your answer for that, I guess." She smirks before her features turn gentle once more. "I always brushed off the black looks you gave other boys as nothing. You know, if they made a move for me while you was around. But I noticed, Ryoga. Although I wasn't sure if it was jealousy that I felt coming from you, I noticed that it made me feel so strangely good about myself, like I was something prescious that you didn't want anyone else to get their mitts on. You also started defending my honour as well as Akane's, and it felt odd, but good." 

"I...I don't know. After a while I just started thinking that you deserved someone at your back, too." Ryoga says as he absentmindedly smells Ukyo's neck, nuzzling it. "And the more I thought about it, I realized that I wanted it to be me..." 

Ukyo rubs her cheek against Ryoga's shoulder. "Every time the door to Ucchan's opened I found myself looking for you, and every time it actually was you who was walking though the door, I felt so energetic, so excited, even if it was at the end of the day, at the end of my shift. I loved rushing you inside, fuzzing over you, taking off your backpack, serving you some tea so you got your voice back and then listening to your stories while I made you some dinner. Seeing how your tired eyes always lighted up at the sight of me, how relieved you always looked when you realized you'd made it to Ucchan's-- it made my day every time. You think I'm funny and everything, but sugar, your stories...they're really intriguing."    

“You really don’t hate me…” He whispers, in awe.

“Oh, come on, you jackass,” She smiles through her tears. “I didn't mean that! As if you believed that!”

“I— I did, actually.”

“Then why—“

“I had to, I couldn’t just lose you to a stupid thing like that.”

“But Akane…”

“Listen, Ukyo, this thing we have together, whatever we think it is…it’s worth more to me, it’s more real than I think my feelings for Akane were. All I know… is that being with you makes me feel so great.” He swallows, gazing uncertainly at her.

“W-we do.” Ukyo looks at him tenderly, staring in wonder. “We do have something together, don’t we? Some kind of connection, like you said. I can't say I haven't felt it as well.”

Ryoga simply smiles, hugging Ukyo, their dirt-stained clothes mashing together and neither of them caring. 

Yet there’s something preying on Ryoga’s mind.

“Ukyo,” he asks gently, burrowing his nose into her neck. “The fight…you were fighting for Ranma.”

“Ranma.” She says flatly, immediately stiffening in his arms. “Well…”

Ryoga waits. “Hmm?”

“Well, I lost, didn’t I?”

“Um…” Ryoga shifts uncomfortably, pulling away a little to get a look at her face; what is she saying? “You mean…if you’d won—“

“I’m not sure…”

Ryoga takes a sharp breath. “Ukyo—“

“I honestly don’t have a clue what I would have done, Ryoga.” Ukyo bites her lip, glances away.

“But you lost.” Ryoga states, voice dully dead. “And I’m the consolation prize.” He lets go of her.

Ukyo wears a stern expression as she takes a step towards him. “So what if I’d won, Ryoga? I mean, do you really think it would have made any difference?”

Ryoga blinks. “Huh?”

”Don’t you think Ranma would have…said something, done something…before…anything…anything to give me a hint that he was interested?” 

Ryoga cocks his head at her, giving her a quizzical look.

“He doesn’t love me, Ryoga, and some stupid fight wouldn’t have changed anything.” She looks into his eyes, her own eyes pleading. “And some stupid fight wouldn’t have just…wiped away the last few months…our time together…would it?”

His knuckles go white. “But Ukyo, why did you fight, then? Do you really expect me to believe that you don’t still, still…”

“I don’t know why I fought, okay?” She throws her hands up in frustration.

“And, and you had no idea that I…how I felt about you…if Ranma had wanted to be with you, would you even have thought twice about it? Would you have given him up for some stupid, directionless—“

“Okay, okay, enough! There will be no self-pitying, all right? I can’t stand it!”

“Fine. Ranma wouldn’t put himself down, right? The man’s got an ego the size of Fuji-san, and I guess that’s what you like, huh?” He growls.

“Listen, me and Ranma go way back, before I even knew you, so I won’t have you talking about him that way, all right?!” Ukyo snaps.

“Oh! Oh, so now she shows her true colours! I guess we found out who’s more important to you of the two of us!” He slumps his shoulders, turning away from her, his voice dripping with icy sarcasm.

“Geez, do you expect me to just stand by and let you badmouth him like that? I don’t like people talking behind other people’s back!” She exclaims angrily. “Wouldn’t you have protested if I’d been badmouthing your precious Akane?”

“Well, I guess—“

“Of course you would! Everyone defends little Miss Popularity! Ranma is the only one who ever says anything negative to her, and that’s just because he loves her and doesn’t know how to express it! Everyone loves her, dammit! Everyone wants to date her, wants to be her friend, everyone thinks she’s gorgeous and I can’t understand it—“

Ryoga turns slowly, looking at her with a gaping mouth.

“I like her and she’s nice and everything, but everyone acts like she’s a friggin’ goddess! Ranchan, Kuno, you, all the girls and boys at school, every damn martial artist who travels through here…I mean, she’s not all that fantastic, is she? She’s violent, she can’t cook, she can’t swim, can’t sow, and I’ll grant you she’s pretty, but it’s a kind of average prettiness, so I just don’t…understand.” Ukyo settles down, deflating. “It’s like I’m the only sane person in an insane world.” She mutters.

Ryoga nods, looking at her sympathetically. “Now you know how I feel about Ranma.”

She looks up, as if seeing him for the first time. “So you…that’s how…”

He just nods again.

“Wow.” She smirks. “Déja vu.”

He chuckles. “Not quite, but yeah.”

“So now I guess we just figured out why I went in that silly match, huh?”

“Mmhmm.”

They’re silent for a while before Ukyo clears her throat in an embarassed manner. “She is very kind, though. And honest.”

A ghost of a smile plays on Ryoga’s lips. “Yeah. And he’s pretty honorable and…well, brave.” He grudgingly admits.

She nods in agreement.

Silence descends once more upon the two.

“Um…what were we fighting about, again?” Ryoga twiddles his thumbs uncertainly.

Ukyo shrugs, laughing a little. “I don’t know, but you started it.”

“Hey!” Ryoga exclaims, mock-insulted. “Did not!”

“Did too!” Ukyo can’t help it, starting to giggle. She elbows Ryoga, who yelps and starts to tickle her until they both can’t talk for laughing so hard. At one point Ryoga tumbles down on the floor, his thick hair getting tangled in the small pile of tea leaves on the floor. Ukyo helps him up, and as Ryoga's sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, Ukyo standing behind him, picking the tea leaves from his hair, something suddenly occurs to her. "Ryoga?"

“Mmm?” He murmurs, his eyes closed as he enjoys the attention and the feel of Ukyo's fingers in his hair.

"I was just wondering..." Secretly smelling his hair, taking in the earthy scent of him, mixed with the sweetness of the tea, she continues grooming his hair. “How did you manage to get here so soon, anyway?”

Ukyo watches him curiously as he starts blushing profusely, not meeting her gaze. Ryoga mumbles something she doesn’t catch.

“What was that, sugar?” She asks, straining to hear.

“I said I got…I got Ranma to take me here, okay?”

“What?!”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s kind of embarassing for me and all,” He grumbles, standing up, disentangling himself from her hands in his hair..

Tugging on his sleeve, she gawks at him. “You really did?”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” He mutters in an embarassed and slightly sour tone; then his brow knits briefly in a frown before he turns his face towards her. “You don’t want him to know about…um, about us?” He asks with hesitation.

“So you told him that you…” She makes a gesture to indicate that he should go on.

“Y-yes. I told him why I had to see you.”

“And what did he say?” Ukyo asks anxiously.

“H-he said…well, something like ‘if you don’t take good care of Ucchan I’ll break your legs, buddy’. “ Ryoga looks thoughtful. “And then he wished me good luck, I think.”

A wistful smile steals over Ukyo’s face at this. “Yeah, that sounds like my Ranchan.”

Ryoga shifts awkwardly, swallowing. “So…um…” He grits his teeth to keep the unwanted sorrow down. “Should I leave now, or…?”

This makes Ukyo snap brutally out of her reverie. “Excuse me?”

“I-I mean…'your Ranchan' and everything, and…um…” He fidgets, hating himself for being so pathetic in front of her. Why can’t he be more of a man, just tell her ‘it’s either him or me’ and get it over with? Maybe because you’re half pig, Hibiki no baka…

“Ryoga! You’re doing it again!” She exclaims, exasperated. “Why can’t you just understand that I— that we— stop being so depressive, damn you!”

He just gives her a sullen, hurt look.

“Oh, Ryoga…” She sighs, cooing understandingly, clasping her hands together. “It’s just a nickname, sugar. Nothing more.”

“B-but it sounds like something a girlfriend would call his b-boyfriend, Ukyo!” He presses out unhappily. He wouldn’t have dared to call Akane that in public back in the days when he was infatuated with her, especially considering the Nerima rumour mill.

“Well, I do call you jackass, don’t I?” She reminds him with a deadpan look.

Gawking at her in imcomprehension, he starts sputtering an incoherent protest until he catches her grinning. Relief washes over him in almost visable waves and he finds himself laughing with her as she clears the distance between them, catching him in a hug.

As she stands there, encircled by his arms and staring into his joyful, laughing face, a dead serious expression steals over her. He picks up on the change, wondering why she’s not laughing anymore; he gulps loudly as he catches the look on his face.

“You…” She murmurs, gazing at him with wide, somber eyes. “You are so handsome.”

He blushes beet red under the force of her intense scrutiny; no one’s ever said that to him, at least not in such a serious manner, and it certainly hasn’t come from the lips of someone he’s cared about this much before. Her hand coming up to caress his temple and cheek lightly makes his face feel like it’s boiling.

“Ukyo…” He stares back, expecting his eyes to spontaneously combust under the tension she’s causing in him.

Ukyo can’t stop looking at him looking back at her, his sharp, curiously light brown eyes a enticing contrast to the thick shock of black hair hanging above. Slowly, almost in a trance, she lifts her fingers to his soft, luscious hair, sighing at the feel and texture of it, sighing over the warmth of the blush-reddened skin along his hairline.

She’s almost startled when he touches her hair, running his big, strong, warm hands down her deep brown-black locks, pressing it to her back so she can feel the pressure of his fingers through her hair and her combat shirt.

Extremely gently, extremely slowly, she draws him into a hug, and the anticipation of feeling his chest against hers makes her body tingle before they’re even touching. As he wraps his arms around her, his lips grazing her forehead for a moment, she closes her eyes, her cheek resting on his shoulder. She can only think one thing as she hears him let his breath out, making for a very peaceful sound.