Déjà vu

A Ranma 1/2 fan fiction by Laura Luchau

All characters created and owned by Rumiko Takahashi.

It was a predictable autumn evening. The momiji leaves were falling outside the window, and as always during this season, Kasumi was looking at them as she prepared the evening meal. Genma and Soun were playing an intense game of shogi as usual. Nabiki was reading manga in her room.

In the dojo, Ranma sat cross-legged, arms crossed and sulking. Abrasions and bruises from an obviously recent fight showed on his face, arms and hands. In front of him, Akane opened her first aide kit and began taking out disinfectant, bandages, tape and band aides.

"Honestly, Ranma," she said, as if she had never stopped a running dialogue, "you always do this."

"Look," he said, shifting his shoulders, "just get with the bandages, already."

Annoyed, she glared at him, but he was purposefully looking away.

It had started as a typical day at school. They had been running late, literally, but barely managed to escape standing in the hallway with water buckets. They'd gone through three different classes without so much as a single argument, since Akane had refused to talk to Ranma since breakfast, but at lunch Kunou had shown up to woo his "beloved Akane," and it had gotten worse from there.

For some reason, instead of letting Akane handle Kunou (which was not that hard), Ranma had suddenly picked a fight over Kunou's poetry spouting. During the fight, Ukyou had shown up to help "Ran-chan," a crowd formed, and things were getting really strange. In fact, Ranma would have easily won against Kunou, with or without Ukyou's help, had it not been for the photos that had fallen out of Kunou's hakama during the fight.

Akane wasn't sure why, but Ranma had been distracted enough that Kunou had gotten in a few hits. Akane hadn't been able to see any of the photos.

Now that she was thinking about it, she found it strange that the photos had disappeared so quickly.

"You STILL leave yourself wide open," she admonished him. "Hold still." She carefully applied the disinfectant, which usually made Ranma yell at her, but he didn't even hiss at the sting. The tip of Kunou's bokken had abraded and broken some skin along the well-defined musculature of Ranma's upper arm through his shirt. . . Akane looked up suddenly, feeling . . . something, but Ranma was looking the other way. Strange, she could have sworn he had been looking at her.

Typical. Sulking as always, and anything she said would be taken how he always took things, badly. It was getting old, the sameness of everything.

"What were those photos anyway?"

"Nothin'."

" 'Nothing' made you let down your guard?"

"Look, they were just some stupid pictures like Nabiki always sells that blockhead."

Akane sighed. Yes, just as always. Nabiki taking pictures of Ranma-chan and earning pocket money off of the very willing Kunou.

"It's still your fault that Kunou-sempai hit you. You leave yourself wide open."

He actually looked angry. "And I suppose you think you coulda done better, huh?"

Akane paused, staring at him. Suddenly she realized that feeling of sameness that she had been experiencing all day was intensifying into actual déjà vu. This HAD happened before, or something very much like. When was that . . .?

Mikado Sanzenin. That's right. Ranma had barely won an ice fight with the ice-skater, Mikado, and she had been doctoring him, like tonight and she had said . . . and then he had said . . . and then he had . . .

"What?" Ranma asked defensively, taken aback by her stare.

"Doesn't this seem . . . " Akane sighed. "Doesn't this feel like we've done this before?"

"Uh, done what?"

Akane sighed again. Ranma had a notoriously bad memory for small things, so she supposed he'd forgotten about this one too. She wondered, though, if he'd react the same?

"We've had this conversation before," she told him, watching his face carefully.

"Oh, yeah?" He scratched his head. "When was that?"

"You actually don't remember?"

"Nah, I don't think so. Was it important?"

Only to me, Akane thought dryly. "I guess it wasn't." She smiled at him and he blinked. "Say, could you repeat what we were saying?"

He shrugged.

"Okay. Here I go again. You left yourself wide open, Ranma."

"And I suppose you think you coulda done better?" he asked, right on cue, his eyes darkening. Not quite a frown. He was annoyed.

"Of course I could of," she said promptly, then watched for his reaction.

This time she saw the move quite clearly. Pointing his hand, he pressed right under her collarbone, and with the other hand, swept under her, depositing her neatly into his lap.

"Look who's talkin'."

They stared at each other, faces no more than a foot apart. Suddenly, the air seemed to sing with tension. He was starting to look panicked at the sudden moment of intimacy. She felt him shift, minutely, and knew he was going to scoot from underneath her, and she said: "Now do you remember?"

"Remember?" He frowned, diverted.

"Yeah. The last time we did this." It was nice sitting in his lap like this, and a plan was forming. Lightly, she slid her arms around his neck. He stiffened and stared at her.

"W-What are you doin', Akane?"

"Waiting to see if you remember."

"Oh." He was blushing. "Give me a clue, why don't cha?"

"Okay. Sanzenin Mikado."

"Ah, that pervert? Wait a minute . . . " He was thinking very hard.

"Okay. Second clue. After he kissed you."

He was beginning to remember and looking extremely pissed. "Ah man, I don't want to remember that!" Then he fell silent. After a moment, his eyes focused on her.

"You were goin' to put the bandages on me, like tonight."

She grinned, pleased. "Uh huh."

"And you were goin' on about me being wide open . . . like tonight."

"Keep going."

"And you said you coulda done better . . . "

"Like tonight."

"And I . . . "

"Yes."

He blushed. She knew, then, that he was remembering the entire conversation.

He had scooted away that night, saying that he wasn't going to kiss her. That had made her mad enough that she told him he didn't have the guts to. Predictably, he had taken that as a challenge and she had egged him on, daring him. He seemed like he was about to try and kiss her and then he had said something about how he should care about the person he kissed, and she had gotten mad; it had almost happened except the family had shown up with the video camera.

"I still think you didn't have the guts," she teased, and his face got even redder.

"Ah, Akane. That was so long ago."

"Only two years, and things haven't changed much." Unfortunately. Honestly, he was clueless.

"What do you mean by that? I mean, we get along better, don't we?"

"Oh, yeah? Since when?" Bitterly, she recalled the stupid remarks he had made during breakfast and how mad she had been with him earlier in the day.

"I mean, well --- " He stopped, looking off and obviously trying to think his way through this.

"Yeah?"

"Well, you gotta know I . . . " He seemed unable to go on.

Suddenly he shifted and scooted out from under her, reaching up and taking her arms from around his neck.

She felt as if her heart had stopped. She could feel the blood draining out of her face. It would have been better if he had slapped her. And, finally, she got mad. Really enraged.

I told you you didn't have the guts to kiss me, and you still don't. "Nothing ever changes, Ranma. Nothing EVER changes!" She put all the different first aide supplies back into the first aide kit, pushed it in his direction, got up and walked out with as much dignity she could muster, only realizing that tears were spilling down her cheeks as she went through the house and upstairs.

Ranma stayed in the dojo for a long time afterward. He was trying to figure out what had happened with Akane, and why she was so mad at him. No, she was plain upset. So was he.

Yeah, he remembered the first time after the fight with Sanzenin. He remembered it because it was the first time he had wanted to kiss Akane. He wished he had, looking back on it. Maybe things wouldn't have gotten so damn weird. Maybe she would've come to like him a little better, maybe even want him a little. Maybe at least he would've known what she thought of him. As it was, his mouth always pissed her off. She never really understood that his bad-mouthing was as much a defense as her anger.

As he was thinking, he began to doctor himself, but the more he thought, the harder it became. Finally, he gave up, and out of frustration, threw the kit across the floor.

Why was it always the same with Akane? She was right! Nothing ever changed between them! She still hated him, and he still . . . just like the first time he had seen her. Did she have a single clue?

He reached into his pocket and drew out one of the photos that had caused him so much pain earlier that day, studying it. Akane.

He remembered, suddenly, how she had sat on his lap, his arms around his neck. His mouth went dry. God, he was an idiot! He should have said something; he had wanted to, but he couldn't think with her near him like that, so he had removed himself off a little to think clearly. But she probably came to her senses.

He glanced back at the picture and gently traced the smooth surface.

Nabiki put down her yaoi manga, listening. Akane had gone into her room only moments ago, and there was absolute silence from the room, except for a sound Nabiki thought she heard, very faintly.

Frowning, she got up, left her room and tapped on Akane's door. "Hey, sis? You okay?"

There was silence, then Akane said, "I'm all right."

Nabiki frowned even deeper. "Akane, I'm coming in there."

She opened the door and had her suspicions confirmed immediately at the tear-streaked outrage on her sister's face.

"What did he do now?" she asked.

Akane collapsed back on the bed and outright cried.

It didn't get any better. Ranma dragged himself dinner just in time to see Nabiki come downstairs and announce that Akane wouldn't be eating dinner with them.

"Girl stuff," she said. "I'll take her a tray later."

"Oh my," Kasumi said. "She's not terribly sick, is she?"

"Nah. Just feeling down. Maybe it was something she ate." Ranma might have felt better if Nabiki hadn't looked directly at him when she said that.

Soun looked concerned, but Nabiki's nonchalance seemed to impress on everyone that it wasn't that bad, and the meal progressed quietly, quietly because Akane wasn't there so Ranma had no one to annoy. Even his dad's stupid stunts weren't getting to him.

He found himself looking at Nabiki, wondering what was really wrong with Akane.

"I only have 1000 yen," he told her after dinner.

Nabiki gave him a scornful look. "Really, Ranma, you'd think I'd sell out my own sister?"

He casually held up the picture. "Now where would I get a silly idea like that, huh?"

The middle Tendou sister stared at him in surprise or what passed for surprise on her face. It was more of a widening of the eyes.

"So tell me, oh wonderful sister who would never sell Akane out, what's up with Akane?"

Akane didn't eat the dinner Nabiki brought. She tried eating some of the rice, but even the comforting warmth and blandness wouldn't go down easily. Finally she settled back on the bed and closed her eyes. Well, that was that. She wiped at her face absently. She always knew he didn't want her, either as fiancée or anything else. He had been obviously relieved when their wedding had not gone through, right?

Maybe it was time to just face facts. He had two other fiancees to choose from. She might never get over him, but there were plenty of boys who'd be willing to console her. Or maybe she didn't need anybody. Maybe it was better alone.

"I really hate boys," she whispered. Oh, but, her heart said, do you really hate HIM?

A brisk tap on the door made her lift her head. "Not now, Nabiki," she groaned.

"Just a moment, sis." Nabiki poked her head in. "I have something for you."

Akane turned on her back. "What?"

Nabiki handed her a picture. "This. I sold Kunou a bunch the other day."

By the time Akane understood what she was looking at, Nabiki was gone.

"Oneesan!" Outraged, Akane looked at the picture. It was herself in the front of the dojo's stone lantern, in her kimono for the O-bon Festival, her fan in one hand and a smile lighting her face. Idly, she flipped it over and sat up with a gasp.

She found him exactly where she had left him. It was now night and the quality of light was softer. He looked good in his black tank shirt and loose pants, she thought. But then, he looked good in anything.

She went over to him and knelt down in front of him. He looked up slowly, carefully studying her face. "You okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah," she managed. She put the picture between them. "I am now."

He turned the picture over. In his bold and unsophisticated hand, it said, "You can at least come down and call me baka. I won't complain."

"How can a girl pass up on a deal like that?" she asked, with a weak laugh.

There was silence while Ranma struggled with what he wanted to say, how he should say it and if he should. Finally, he decided.

She went still when he reached up to cup her jaw, his thumb caressing her cheek. "I really am an idiot," he said.

"Yeah, you are," she agreed, and swallowed.

"And I leave myself wide open."

"Yeah, you do," she murmured.

"You think you could do better?"

"Sure."

He let his hand drop but before she could really react, his hand was around her waist and he was pulling her into his lap. "Look who's talkin'."

"Ranma," she breathed. "I double dare you."

He half laughed, half groaned. "Well, I'd only do it since you dared me."

"BAA-ka."

He was nervous and she was downright terrified. He managed a light kiss that made her heart pound, however innocent. "Ya know, I've never ---" he whispered after the first attempt.

"That's all right. Neither have I." She couldn't quiet believe what they were doing, after such an impossible wait.

"Well, Pop always said, practice makes perfect."

"Your dad actually said something that makes sense?" she giggled and they kissed again, but it was still kind of awkward. Still, her heart was going triple-time, and she slid shaky hands over his shoulders. That afforded an unexpected closeness.

The third try was by far the best. It was nice how they were feeling their way through it, she thought hazily. Ranma seemed to have caught on and groaned when the kiss turned hotter. He was holding her so close that she could feel his rapid heartbeat against her breasts. He slid his tongue slowly along the seam of her lips and slid inside when she gasped. It was her turn to groan.

It might have gone on forever, had not a niggling thought take hold of the small remaining functioning part of Ranma's mind.

"Did you lock the dojo door?" he breathed.

"Mm. Don't think so." It took her a minute to understand what he had asked.

Fearing the worse, they both looked over to the doorway. It was closed. They both breathed a sigh of relief.

"Maybe things change after all," Ranma said.

Akane kissed him lightly, got up and quietly walked over to the door. With a sudden motion, she slid it open to reveal Soun and Genma leaning next to the paper and wood door, cups to their ears.

"Oh yeah?" she said, and stepped back to reveal the fathers, who started to sweat.

It was one of the few times when RANMA started to do that blue glow thing.

That next day was unnaturally quiet. Ranma had taken off early, right after breakfast, and Akane didn't see him until dinner. She tried not to wonder what he was up to, and failed. She tried not to be angry that he spent the day after their first kiss apparently avoiding her. She failed again.

So at dinner she was as silent as the grave, and stewed in her own resentment. She was savvy enough to notice Kasumi looking at her strangely. Her father and Ranma's were being as polite as could be, but they were obviously trying vainly to disguise their glee at what they had heard the night before.

Great, she thought. Just great. Like that's what we need, more pressure.

They never talked about he first wedding attempt. Ranma practically retreated and fled when the subject was brought up, however innocently. Akane knew now that they weren't ready for marriage. Ranma denied that anything happened during their adventure in China, but she remembered how he had acted when he thought she was dead. Maybe he cared for her, but she didn't think that meant he wanted to marry her. If it weren't for their fathers, she doubted the thought would cross his mind.

She was determined not to bring it up, and not to act as if anything had happened the night before. He had a habit of denying these emotional scenes; he was not a romantic. She had never heard the word "love" cross his lips, and although there were many who still married for convenience and not love, even in these days in modern Japan, she doubted Ranma would be one to bow under the weight of giri and marry without some kind of affection.

He was not romantic, but he did have strong feelings and impulses. He felt affection, she was sure, and he was capable of love. As a martial artist, she understood how one could focus their thoughts and feelings into energy, and yet deny them at the same time. She did it herself, constantly. She was always reacting off of emotion, and yet never really told Ranma what she was feeling.

She found herself looking at him across the table. They were two of a kind, weren't they? Too stubborn, too proud. Neither of them was willing to admit anything. Even last night . . . she tried not to blush. Last night was just so strange. Ranma had bowed just a little, showing a side of him she had never seen before. A little softer. A little less proud. And yet, they had really told each other nothing, except that they liked kissing, and even that had been without words.

She sighed. All right. REALLY liked kissing. Who knows what might have happened if their fathers hadn't been at the door? She found herself blushing, and uncomfortably aware that her line of thought was leading her to places she didn't want to consider yet.

"Gochisou sama!" she said, finishing her meal and getting up.

"My, Akane. That was fast," Kasumi said.

"I want to get to the dojo before the sun went down!" she said, and ran off to change into her gi.

An hour later, she looked up from her exercises to see Ranma leaning in the doorway to the dojo, watching her. He had a strange expression on his face.

"Hai?" she asked, wondering what he was doing. If he wanted to come in, what was he doing there?

He pushed off from the doorway with a shoulder and strolled in with natural grace. "Need a sparring partner?" he asked casually.

"Why bother," she said. "You never fight all out with me, anyway."

He was continuing to stare at her and she began to fidget. "You're just dying to ask me, ain't ya?" he said finally.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Ranma." His gaze was making her very nervous. It was almost . . . predatory.

He studied her. If Ranma knew anybody, he knew Akane when it came to stubbornness. He knew what the cold shoulder looked like, and he knew he had gotten it at dinner, big time. He also knew why.

"You want to know who I visited today?"

"I could care less." She tossed her head.

He found himself grinning. Akane was really cute when she though she was in the right.

"I went to Nekohaten first. And then Ucchan's."

She turned and walked back to where she had set up her boards and cinder blocks for practicing breaking fist, trying to disguise the fact that she was beginning to burn with absolute fury.

"I'm sure it was marvelous for your ego," she managed.

"Well, they sure make a guy feel wanted, that's for sure." He was standing where she had left him, arms crossed. After a moment of silence, where she refused to look at him, he added: "But I think I broke their hearts."

Her head came up and he grinned. "Do I finally have your attention?"

She gritted her teeth. "Go to hell, Ranma."

He scratched his head. "Well, now that's really unfriendly of you. Especially since I did it for you."

"Oh for God's sake, just finish you story, would you?" she barked. "You're holding up my workout."

"Oh, excuse me." His sarcasm was heavy. "Maybe this should wait, then, until some other time when you feel like listening."

She stared at him. He looked really annoyed. Pissed off.

"Well," she said helplessly, "maybe it should then!"

"Fine!" He spun and started marching for the door. Akane wanted suddenly to call him back, but although she opened her mouth, no words came out.

He stopped at the door, and she saw his shoulders straighten before he turned back to her. Once again, she could not tell what he was thinking.

She was surprised and off-guard, then, when he marched back to her, grabbed her and kissed her roughly. It was not anything like the gentle and deep kisses of the night before. It was an angry and frustrated kiss and when he was done, he left without another word, leaving her standing with shaking knees in the middle of the dojo.

Left her with a confused mind and an aching mouth and a body that was burning, but not with anger.

She stayed in the dojo for at least another hour, dazed. She relived that kiss at least a thousand times. Then she relived what had led up to it a thousand times, ashamed. She hadn't meant to be such a bitch. It just seems unstoppable, like a runaway train. He pushed all the wrong buttons in her.

Wearily, she dragged herself up to the bathroom for a long soak, and then to her room to work on the rest of her homework at her desk. She really hated the English homework that Hinako-sensei assigned . . .

She started at the unmistakable sound of a hand tapping on the glass of her window. She looked up to see a single arm suspended from the roof, the hand tapping on the window.

Sliding the window open, she poked her head out and looked up, to see Ranma's head and shoulders showing over the side of the roof tiles.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"Come up here," he said.

"I'm working on homework."

"So, bring it with you. It's great up here."

She stared at him, but he only smiled and withdrew back out of sight.

She decided the Sunlizer textbook would have to wait. She grabbed a blanket, draped it about her neck, got up into the window and grabbed the edge of the roof. Ranma's hands seized onto hers and pulled her up, as easily as he would a pillow of feathers.

There was an awkward moment when they stood close together, hands still linked. Then they dropped them simultaneously, flustered. Akane took the blanket from around her neck.

"Wish I'd thought of that," he commented as she laid it down and sat on one side. He took the other.

"Why are you up here?" she asked.

"Seems like the only private place in this whole house."

She thought about that. At least she had her room to herself. Ranma had to sleep with Saotome-san. She supposed there was little privacy for Ranma.

"And you can't beat the view."

She looked up and smiled. Although Nerima's lights obscured the dimmer stars, the night sky still awed her with its magnificence.

"You really went to Nekohaten and Ucchan's?" she managed.

He didn't answer immediately. "Yeah," he said. "I went."

She turned her head and looked at him. He was looking at the sky, arms around his knees. He was wearing a blue Chinese shirt, and the muscles stood out in his arms. She suddenly wanted to touch him, and blushed, looking away.

"I went to tell Shampoo and Ucchan."

Akane frowned. "Tell them what?"

Again he was silent. "Did I make a mistake?" he said quietly, as if to himself. He shook his head. "I told them that I was in love with you."

The world seemed to have stopped, or maybe it was just her heart, she thought. Then her eyes started to tear. "Y-you did?"

"Yeah." He turned his head to look at her. "Akane? Are you all right?"

She wiped at her eyes. "Ah, yes. I'm all right." She couldn't quite look at him. "Do you think you'll ever tell ME?"

Ranma blinked. "What were we doin' last night, do ya think?"

"Kissing."

"WELL??"

She looked at him. "We were kissing, Ranma. That doesn't mean anything."

"WHAT??" He stared at her in disbelief. "You think I was playin' around last night, or something?"

"Well, a kawaikune girl like me . . ."

"Ah, you baka!" He took her hand roughly. "I've been in love with you forever!"

It was her turn to be unsure. "What??" Then she gathered her wits. "Okay, since when?"

"Since you challenged Kunou for my sake."

Her eyes went wide. "What? Way back then?" She recalled Ranma-chan hiding out from Kunou, and passing up a kettle of hot water to her, before challenging Kunou before he could reach her.

"You were so cute, so serious about defending me. I guess I knew then." The truth was, he realized as he said it, that he'd liked her since she had asked if he wanted to be her friend, when he was in the cursed form.

Akane bit her lip.

"So?" he asked. "You have something to say to me?"

"I've been in love with you since the dojo."

"The dojo? You mean . . .?"

"Yeah, when we almost kissed." She couldn't look at him. "And I really knew when were skating against the Golden Pair." . . . and he cushioned her when they both were going to smash into the wall of the ice rink.

He was smiling at her. "I thought you hated me."

"I thought you thought I was . . . unattractive."

"Nah, I LIKE tomboys. If you weren't fightin' with me or yellin' at me, I wouldn't know what to do with myself."

Her eyes teared up again, and she wiped at them.

"Hey," he said softly, cupping her face with his strong hands, "no more of this stuff. We're wastin' valuable privacy."

She laughed weakly. "Sorry."

He kissed her, pulling her close, and she gave herself up to the heat and pleasure of feeling his mouth against hers, and then the exploration of tongues, and the close embrace that was turning into something much more complicated.

"Have we done this before?" he groaned against her throat as they sunk together onto the blanket.

"No," she breathed, hands registering the hard flexing muscles of his back and arms. "No more déjà vu."

------- OWARI ------

Well, it's a short fic. What can I say? I always liked that scene with Akane and Ranma in the dojo after his first fight with Mikado. I've always felt it could have easily gone in another direction, had it not been for the family peeping in on them. This was my chance to use that same situation to an advantage.

Laura Luchau

Original: August 1999

Revised: November 2000