Can anyone else see a pattern here? Lemon, plot development...lemon, plot development.... I'll try'n keep it going ^_^.

DISCLAIMER: I'm tired of writing it; see previous parts.

_%Beautiful Dreamer 4%_

Akane Tendo had to be repremanded three times for not paying attention.

And that was just during first period.

She tried her very best to make English seem interesting. But one fact was dully pounding itself into her mind, ever second of every hour, and making it very difficult to concentrate.

Ranma had not come home last night.

Oh, she could try to rationalize it away, but the rationale sounded like Kasumi's voice. Kasumi's words, even; the same words she had been handed upon going downstairs to breakfast, and announcing that Ranma hadn't been in his room for his normal wake-up call. She thought maybe Kasumi had looked distressed for an instant, just a bare instant, before the permanent-press smile with the sparkling eyes came out. Before she started making excuses.

Kasumi always made excuses for everyone. She seemed to think everything was her fault.

Akane had taken it in somewhat hopefully. Because she would rather take stock in the slim chance that her older sister was correct than listen to Nabiki's meanderings.

Nabiki, damn her, always had her own opinions. She entered the room, eyebrows raised, and asked indifferently, "Oh, come *on* now, Akane. Ranma-kun has...how many iinazukes now? And gee, they're all real pretty and a whole lot nicer to him than you are, even on your best days. Oh my, let's not forget that two of them have various *sources* from which they just might get...oh, in the mildest case, paralasis powder. Remember that? My dear, don't be so naive."

This said, the sharp-featured girl took her seat at the breakfast table, and stuffed a pastry into her mouth. Akane glared at her, thoughts along the lines of "If you were a martial artist, sister, what I'd like to do to you" going through her head. How could she say something like that, and then act so very unconcerned?!

Probably because she isn't concerned, self replied, and Akane thought she saw just the barest glimmer of apprehension in her sister's eyes.

It was no secret that Nabiki wanted her little sister married to her iinazuke. And Akane allowed herself to entertain the thought that Nabiki was just trying to rile her up. Determined not to do so, she simply grabbed hold of her school bag and left, ignoring Kasumi's calls of forgotten lunch. She would regret it around eleven, but for the moment, her rage at their behavior and her determination left her blind to those consequences.

Consequences she was now reaping in full. Counting off the seconds till lunch time, Akane went through a rapid list of who might know where Ranma was at the moment. She wished dearly that she'd been cast more classes with him this year, as much as their shared quarters had irritated her the previous. She only had three classes with him, and though he hadn't been present in first period, she might well have been worrying for nothing; by now, he might have stumbled into third period.

Did she know anyone in his third class? Think, think. Oh, right, Mikitsu Saronaga. Miki-kun would tell her at lunch, wouldn't he? Oh, she could only hope.

"Tendo-san," Hinako Ninomiya was pouting expressively, "please pay attention! How are you going to pass finals?" Her large eyes grew half again and shimmered with tears. "I don't wanna have to teach you again next year!"

Akane blinked back into attendence, if only for a moment. She was so lost in her reverie that she almost didn't notice the note that had landed on her desk, even after the boy next to her poked her for attention.

It had her name on it, so she unfolded it carefully in her lap, and began to read.

//Akane - What's going on? Where's Ran-chan? Is he sick? - Ukyo//

Akane sighed deeply, dared a glance up to check on Ms. Ninomiya, and hurriedly scribbled out a response. The answer was...she didn't know. She had a few suspicions, but she didn't know for sure. Mentally, she checked Ukyo's name off of her list for potential Ranma-nappers. Even if the Kuonji girl had planned to play innocent, surely she wouldn't have risked bringing it out into the open.

Another note came back in answer to hers. Ukyo hadn't even bothered to put her name at the top, or sign her own.

//What? He's missing? Oh, poor Ran-chan. I'll bet he was kidnapped.... Talk more at lunch? It's hard to be articulate on a little piece of notebook paper.//

Akane twisted around a little in her seat to nod to the other girl, and got a sharp repremand for her trouble, as well as the note's confiscation and subsiquent "sharing" with the rest of the class. Embarrassed though she was, Akane hoped that someone would come forward and assuage her fears. Instead, whispers of "Ranma", "missing" and "usually Akane" swept the classroom.

She felt a small amount of satisfaction as she watched her dear teacher trying to calm everyone down again.

-

Ranma awoke slowly, as he often did, when left to his own devices. Ryoga smiled slightly, went back to stroking his hair, and waited for his lover to analyze the situation. It wasn't every day that he found himself in bed and naked with another. Or at least, he would have liked to believe so.

True to form, Ranma started upon realizing where and in what condition he was. The warmth had been nice, along his underside, and the vague sense of safety, one he hadn't experienced in so very long. Something he should have connected with childhood, but childhood was something he usually associated with bad weather, holes in clothing, and and empty stomach. Certainly not this feeling of absolute security...something he thought he could get used to. The soft, tickly feeling on his scalp was also pleasant, the feeling of fingers running through his hair. Something else he thought he could get used to. But the disconnected sense of...he was hard-pressed to put it into words...completion?...no, that made it sound like more than it actually was. It was more like...fullness. And it was more than a little uncomfortable.

That last thing was what jolted him and made him gasp out and try for just a second to back away. Just a second before he realized it was Ryoga, and settled back down again. Much as he had enjoyed their loveplay last night, he didn't particularly want to be hit again.

Ryoga sighed deeply, and the hand that was playing with his hair drifted down his neck and up to the side of his face. It rubbed absently over the bruise that was forming on his cheek, and then slipped its thumb down to play with his lip. A smile was forming on Ryoga's face, and he brought Ranma closer and kissed him gently through his bangs.

"Sleep well?" he asked casually, moving his free hand to bring the sheets back up from where they'd been rumpled at the end of the bed. Which was currently within reach, since they had slept at a diagonal.

"Uh-huh," Ranma agreed softly, pressing his face into Ryoga's neck like a kitten trying to coax a petting from its owner.

How very appropriate.

Permitting himself another smile at the simple eloquence of the reply, he responded to Ranma's body language and stroked one hand down his back and over his ass. Gently, smile deepening on the soft reaction and the again-kittenish arching back.

A private joke, he supposed, and stroked again, then settled once more, sitting himself up a little so that Ranma had something better to lean against.

"Glad to hear it. Any idea what time it is on a Thursday morning, love?"

Still obviously thrown on the pronoun, Ranma managed a soft, sigh-ish, "Nope. But I'm guessin' I'm late for school, since my time sense about matches your direction sense."

"Correct," he acknowledged, though his boy-god received a little swat for the comment.

Ranma winced, but it was a mock-wince. Gods didn't feel pain. It was just a gesture of displeasure, and the sooner Ranma came to realize that, the less such things would be necessary. Crude, yes, but far more efficient than words; words weren't really needed in a relationship like this, anyhow, and the less they were used, the less trouble would be had. Or so it seemed.

"I'd say it's about ten-thirty. I think you ought to get dressed now. They'll all be wondering what happened to you."

Eyes indifferent, Ranma answered, "And they'll figure it out soon enough. C'mon, I don't wanna go to school."

"You have to," Ryoga grated patiently. So saying, he pulled the suddenly-clinging Ranma from him, pulling out somewhat roughly for loss of lubrication, and gave him a little shove to the other side of the bed.

In response, he was pelted with a hurt pout, sapphires glistening with the beginnings of tears. "But I wanna stay here with you."

Oh, he knew Ranma didn't mean it, but he was so very good at what he did. Sighing, Ryoga held out his arms to let Ranma back in, if only for a moment. When he felt the way his other was digging his fingers in, and pressing agaisnt him as hard as he could manage, he decided that perhaps not all of the pitifulness had been an act. Ranma had experienced their lovemaking like a dying man experienced water. He wanted more than he could handle, and wanted it to never end as it was now. He felt the withdrawl in the lack of that intimate contact, and was now trying to make up for it as best he could.

It was really very sweet, but Ryoga had no patience for this right now. Ranma was right, they would know eventually, but it could never be soon enough for him. He wanted the whole lot of them to know; Ranma was his, and no one touched something that belonged to him. His jewel. And if any of them ever tried to hurt him...well, he was the only one allowed to hurt Ranma. His vengence would be sure and swift. And painful, for all those involved.

"Ranma, you *must* go to school. Think about it, will you? You certainly aren't going to be carrying on that dojo of theirs," he waited for the nod and smiled a little when it came on schedule, "so you're going to need some life-skills here. How do you expect to get a job in this world without an education?"

Ranma, like the naive thing that he was, shrugged. "You don't go to school," he pointed out. "Why should I?"

Growling in frustration, he grabbed Ranma by the shoulders. Part of his mind screaming that Ranma had insulted him and should be punished. The other part screaming that Ranma only meant it as an argument why he shouldn't do something unpleasant. The other half won, and he sighed and released Ranma with only a defeated, "You really think I dropped out because I *wanted* to?"

Blinking blue eyes in confusion, his other put a hand on his shoulder in a clumsy attempt to soothe a pain he sensed but did not recognize.

"After you left...." What was the point of going to school without Ranma? "...I couldn't find it," he said instead, lamely. It wasn't completely inacurate; he hated the stares and the teasing that people made when they found out he couldn't find anything. To have to go through years of getting lost to his classes, at least for the first week? It was more than he could bear. Especially now, since he would be placed in a lower grade level, even if he managed to get into the same school as his only.

"Well...um...come to Furinkan with me. I'd be happy to show you around," Ranma offered readily.

He smiled dimly, but it faltered and darkened to nothingness. What could he say to that? How could he explain to this one, this creature that he loved so much, that he wasn't intelligent enough to pass the entrance exams? If he admitted that, and Ranma laughed at it, he would have to *hurt* Ranma, and he really wasn't in the mood for that.

"No, huh?" Crestfallen, his boy-god continued hurriedly, "It ain't practical, though. How am I supposed to keep a job if I'm following you all over the world?"

Ranma had a point. Of course, he did eventually hope to settle down somewhere, but for the present, he had nowhere. He hated this house, as much of a lighthouse as it was. Hated the parents that were never around, and the memories that were steadily deteriorating. He didn't want to stay here, in Nerima, long enough to let Ranma finish highschool, let alone colledge. Maybe he could start Ranma up in school somewhere else.

"At least finish out the semister," he muttered at last.

"Sure!" was the exuberant response, from a boy certain he had won the argument.

"Well, then, since you're so excited," breathing the last word with a bit of emphasis, helping Ranma off the bed and to his feet, going first himself, "you must be ready to go. How about we take a quick ~shower~ before heading out?"

Ranma flushed beautifully, and a sharp, nervous giggle came out in response. "I thought you wanted me to go to school so badly," he droned, waggling a finger repremandingly. "If we do that, we probably won't even get there in time for lunch."

Scooping a towel off the floor --they had just sort of *dropped* them in a wet heap before moving onto the bed-- he swung it at the other boy's rear, catching him by surprise.

"If that happens," which it wouldn't, since he wasn't particularly in the mood; he rarely *was* in the mornings, "you can have lunch here and go to school after that."

"All right!" Ranma chirped, and received another smack. Sighing, he went on down the hall towards the bathroom. Ryoga's moodswings were really confusing him....

-

"I'm going to kill her! I'm going to skin her alive! I'm going to tear her up into little pieces!"

Akane sweatdropped, and put one hand on Ukyo's shoulder to calm the other girl. Not that you could tell she was a girl; even though most of the student body knew her little secret, some people still mistook them for a couple as they sat down together. It made Akane rather uncomfortable, and she wished that Ukyo would just dress and speak like a normal Japanese girl. Though she mostly used asexual pronouns, when given a choice, the okonomiyaki chef seemed to pick male every time. Akane put this off to being used to it, rather than a general desire to be male.

"We don't know...."

"But we can assume!" Ukyo interrupted vehemently. "I bet that Amazon bitch is getting her claws into him right now!"

As if to punctuate the sentence, the wall on the other side of the cafeteria exploded inwards, leaving the named purple-haired jump-suit-clad Amazon in a piled of dust and rubble.

"Nihao Ranma!" she called out a little too soon, before realizing that her airen was not occupying the room she'd "entered". Blinking large crimson eyes that severely reminded Akane of her teacher, the confused Amazon wandered into the room slowly. Lacking a focus, she just sort of wandered about before locking onto "the competition", pretending to be enjoying their food, and ignoring her utterly.

Hopping over and coming to rest gracefully on the table between them, Shampoo looked first to Akane. "Nihao, Violent Pervert Girl. Where Husband?"

Akane growled angrily, not able to decide whether the look she was receiving was genuine concern, or a ploy. She decided to answer truthfully. "I don't know, Shampoo. And my name is 'Akane'."

"Know name, Violent Pervert Girl." She turned around casually, sweeping Akane's hastily paid-for lunch onto the ground with one foot, and asked Ukyo next. "Spatula Girl? You know where Husband is?"

"Unfortunately, he isn't my husband yet. I don't understand you, Shampoo. You've been in Japan for two years. You'd think you'd at least have picked up on the basics of grammar."

Growling, Shampoo answered snidely, "Japanese stupid language. Only learn enough to get by. Not want any more bad influence than necessary."

"I see. So, you'd rather sound like a stupid bimbo, hmm?"

Standing up to defuse the coming conflict, though she could tell it was going to be interesting, Akane announced simply, "She doesn't know, either. We were just thinking *you* might have kidnapped him, but if you're really sincere...."

Shampoo lept off the table and faced Akane with an instantly worried expression. "He missing? Where he go to? Kidnapped?"

Well, it seemed genuine-enough worry. With a last, long-suffering sigh, she replied, "He didn't come home last night. I'm really starting to get worried...."

Before Shampoo could respond, Ranma entered the cafeteria. Interestingly enough, through the hole the Chinese girl had made, though he gave it not so much as a backwards glance. He had his school bag slung over one shoulder, and a bento in hand. Darting his eyes around the room, he seemed relieved to see everyone eating. Then he noticed the threesome, and his expression sobered immediately.

First to react as always, Akane stormed over to him, about to give him a piece of her mind. How dare he worry her like this! How inconsiderate, thoughtless, and pigheaded could he be! He should have at least called from wherever he'd ended up, but no! She wasn't important enough to be notified! Why, that -- that -- that JERK!!!

Shampoo cut her off mid-mallet, landing on her head and spring-boarding into Ranma's arms, cooing out, "Aiya! I so worried for Husband! Ranma tell Shampoo where he disappear to right now!"

"Sorry, Ranma's kinda busy right now, eating," he responded simply, mimicking her way of speaking Japanese, casually disarming himself and heading over to the nearest table. Incidently, leaving Shampoo to drop to the floor in her sudden anger.

Picking herself up, Akane heard Ukyo attempt a more casual poke.

"Hey, Ran-chan. Where you been? Akane-chan tells us you didn't go back to the Tendo's last night."

"Nope," Ranma replied unhelpfully, breaking apart his chopsticks and opening his bento.

Wait a minute. Something didn't fit. His bento? But he hadn't gone home last night.... Where could he have....

"Ranma," she began cheerfully, throwing him off-balance as usual, sitting herself down next to him. "Where, by chance, did you get that?"

Choking on his mouthful, Ranma hastily snatched the cloth he'd tied to the top of the mentioned-lunch off the table top and stowed it away in his pocket. Akane had caught the briefest glimpses of black and yellow.

"Um, um," Ranma stuttered frantically, eyes darting around for inspiration, "would you believe I got it from Kasumi yesterday? I mean, I knew I wasn't gonna be going back, and I put it in the fridge when I...." He trailed off.

"You knew you were going to be spending the night out, and you didn't mention it?!" She was more than irked. How dare he! How dare he!

"Well, not at first...I mean, yes...I mean, I'm sorry!" he managed, and flinched back in anticipation of being hit.

Shampoo walked up calmly, and fished the cloth out of Ranma's pocket while he stuttered at Akane. Then she tossed it at Ukyo, arcing out of Ranma's reach.

"Well, this's an interesting cloth," Ukyo drawled out. "Gee, looks kinda like one'a Ryoga-hon's bandannas. You and he and Kasumi were all in the kitchen yesterday morning, talking about how you were gonna spend the night out, and he happened to give you a bandanna?" She thought a moment, then shook her head. "Nope. I don't believe it, Ran-chan. Now, what *really* happened?"

"Ryoga-kun's?" Akane asked disinterestedly. She took the cloth from Ukyo, and had to agree that it was the exact shape and size of the lost boy's head-gear. "How nice of him. Perhaps, during your little talk, you lost the cover your bento had? And he leant you one? Still doesn't explain *where* you were spending the night, though. I don't think your friends are the sort of people who'd invite you like that. No, it must have happened unintentionally, right? Come on, Ranma. You can tell us."

"Maybe he done talking Pig Boy, and start go home, yes? Then kidnapped by Crazy Flower Lady, yes? This what happen, husband?"

"Is it?!" Ukyo demanded, eyes glowing with bloodlust. "Just how far did she get with you, Ran-chan?!"

"Uh, no! Nonononono," Ranma said firmly, panicking when he realized he was utterly surrounded. "It wasn't Kodachi! I mean--"

"Well, who was it, then? I'm your iinazuke, Ran-chan, and I deserve to know who violated you!"

There was something like an explosion in Ranma's head. Akane saw it, but not in time to warn the others, or even get out of the way. Suddenly, all panic faded from his expression, and he reached across the table to Ukyo and grabbed her by the front of her uniform.

"He. Did. NOT. Violate me." he stated flatly, and released Ukyo to fall back into her seat.

"He?" was the simultanious gasp from all three iinazukes.

Instead of answering, Ranma returned to his bento. After finishing it in the dead silence that had fallen over the room, all of which had been watching quietly in anticipation of martial arts display, he turned and stood, facing Akane briefly.

"I'm sorry about the engagement," he said heavily, bowing in apology. "But I'm afraid we're just going to have to call it off. Same for you two," he added with a sigh, straightening and bowing again to each. He started to leave, but Akane stopped him with one last anguished cry.

"Don't you think I at least deserve to know who you *fucked* that's so damned important you can just destroy my honor like this?"

The other girls nodded their agreement with this statement, Ukyo nodding twice with not so much pain as anger. This was not the first time Ranma had done this to her. She had already spent all the tears she was willing to on him. Now all she felt was a dull, throbbing pain, and a cold rage building up to mask it.

Again, he seemed to mentally shut down. He turned back, eyes ice -- perfect countenance for the Hiryu Shoten Ha. "I didn't 'fuck' anyone," he responded in a voice to match his eyes, and then turned and left the room.

Which then exploded into deafening whispers. Akane almost immediately had to fend off the crowds of boys insisting that she was now free, and surely needed consoling.

To which she responded levely, "My iinazuke is gay. And at this point, he's a lot more likely to date you than I am. So leave me the HELL alone."

This only quieted them. She knew they'd all be back in force the next day. Waiting. Damn, but she wanted out of this town.

See what I mean? Comments make me write faster!!

LEMON WARNING, though I gotta wonder, if you've stuck with this story up until now, how can you possibly mind?

_%Beautiful Dreamer 5%_

Ranma went home early that day. Around fifth period, he couldn't take everyone staring at him any longer. He knew it was his own fault; he should have been a little more careful of who might overhear his words. But he had been so angry at the time that he hadn't been thinking straight. However, before leaving, he absently noticed that Akane had not been present in fifth period either. He ducked briefly into the secretary's office.

"Hi. I'm Ranma Saotome, and I'm not feeling very good. I think I'm gonna go home early today, okay?"

The secretary barely acknowledged this, penning his name down with one hand while drinking coffee and talking into the phone with the other. She made shooing gestures, and that was it. Ranma blinked. He hadn't realized how easy it was to skip school.

On the walk back to Ryoga's house, he was confronted by Mousse. Being that this wasn't who he'd expected, he was momentarily thrown off-balance before going into a defensive posture.

"Hey, Mousse. What do you want?" he asked easily, watching his opponant carefully for any signs of attack.

The other boy just smiled slightly.

"Shampoo came home in tears," he responded flatly, and for a moment, Ranma was certain he'd come to avenge that. That was what Ryoga would have done. Then again, he'd been reading that all wrong; who was to say he wasn't missing something with Mousse as well.

"And?" he asked finally, when Mousse made no move to continue the conversation.

"It took a good half-hour for Cologne to get her coherent enough to understand. She's coming after you, Ranma. She may be a matriarch, but she's certainly not all-knowing. She didn't see this coming any more than the rest of us did. And she's mad." His smile turned to a smirk. "As in mad-insane. Oh, with a little bit of anger thrown in."

"I see." He did not back out of his stance. "And why are you telling me this? I figured you'd be first in line to dance on my grave."

The smirk vanished completely. "Just consider it a friendly warning."

"I do. I still don't understand why, though."

Mousse shrugged. "We all have our masks, Ranma. Your boyfriend's happened to be a little thicker than most. Goodbye. I wish you well."

Ranma nodded in acknowledgement, finally straightened, and went around Mousse quietly. He was fully exposing his back, and painfully aware of it, but no attack came. When he turned to check on this one of his many rivals, the Chinese boy was gone.

Blinking, Ranma continued home. He judged himself to be still a good two, maybe three blocks away, and wished he wasn't.

Then a rather disturbing thought came into his mind. If Shampoo had gone home and told her family...he had the feeling he would have some explaining to do the next time he saw his old man. And a fleeting wrinkle came into the utter certainty of his future; did his father know where Ryoga's house was? He wasn't sure. He didn't think so...but he wasn't sure.

And he was more than a little uncomfortable with that.

-

Ukyo sighed against the counter. Unlike the other girls, she had no one she could talk to. She had no friends at Furinkan; they either thought she was perverted for dressing like a boy or just strange, and even the ones that didn't thought she was an idiot for joining in with the Ranma manage, and apparantly, they were right. She had no suitors; Tsubasa had taken the weekend off, and Konatsu was spending the next few months in intensive therapy --supposedly willing-- to get him to stop thinking he was female. Her father was miles away...though she supposed she'd be seeing him soon enough, even if it was only briefly to tell him that she had failed, failed at the one thing she had dedicated her life to these past eleven years, failed at the one thing that meant anything to her besides her cooking ability....

She shook herself almost painfully. No. She would not do that. She had not failed. It was not too late to win Ranma's affection, not yet.

The words sounded hallow, even within the confines of her own head.

But they were all that she had, now.

-

The first thing Nabiki did upon hearing the news was laugh. Soun, Kasumi, and Akane stared at her, with respective feelings of disbelief, shock, and anger. After she stopped laughing, Nabiki hit the table with her palm, and smiled broadly.

"Well, good for them! It's about time Ranma got with someone who actually cares about him one way or another!" She turned to Akane. "You shouldn't be so shocked, Sis. He never did seem interested in any of his iinazukes. And you can't cook, and you're violent and never very nice to him.... Though I'm sure the tomboyish-ness was a plus in his book...." She turned to Kasumi. "You see? He was NOT on heroin." She turned to her father. "Sure screwed you over, didn't he, Daddy? I never knew Saotome had it in him."

And then she stood up, looked back at them, laughed again, and went upstairs to her room.

"I hope she trips and breaks her neck," Akane growled out.

"It seems I can't say anything in absolute confidence with her," Kasumi mused self-importantly.

It took a little longer for it to hit Soun Tendo. Abruptly, he began his usual wail, moaning snatches of what sounded like, "How could he do this to my little girl?"

Genma entered the room in panda-form, gave the bawling Soun a sideways glance, and signed, [What happened to him?]

Nabiki popped her head back in. "Ranma-kun and Ryoga-kun went horseback-riding naked without a horse." she announced tactfully, and zipped back upstairs again.

Genma blinked. [Oh,] the sign read disinterestedly. [What's for dinner?]

"You aren't upset?" Akane asked, startled.

[Don't confuse me with my wife. I really couldn't care less. If she comes back, just say we commited hara-kiri to attone for Ranma's unmanliness.] Here, he flipped the sign. [She's never seen the boy, after all. She wouldn't recognize him even if she ran into him on the street. Then she'll go have a legal divorce, and yet another arranged marriage will go ka-putskie.]

This signed, the panda repeated its earlier question. [What's for dinner, Kasumi dear? I think this may be my last supper over here.]

Soun looked up tearfully. "You can say that again, you miserable freeloader. Look at what your son has done to my daughter!" He gestured to the thoroughly non-pulsed Akane. "Have you ever seen her so upset?!"

[Well....]

"Dad, I'm FINE. I never wanted that stupid engagement anyway!" She paused for a moment, mulling things over, then turned to Kasumi. "Do you think it'd be appropriate to do the 'Let's be friends' talk on Saturday? I don't want him to think I'm shallow."

"Assuming you can find him, Imoto." Kasumi responded with a nod. "Although it'll be a might bit awkward."

"I know. Still, has to be said."

"That isn't quite what I meant.... Oh, and do try to be nice to poor Ryoga-kun, won't you?"

"Of course. It's not like he's some kind of monster. I'm sure they're very happy together."

"I hope so, Akane-chan."

"Well, Saotome?! What do you have to say for yourself?!"

[Ah....] Genma-panda glanced at Akane, [She seems all right to me, Tendo....]

"Nonsense! She's just being brave, aren't you, sweetheart?"

"Whatever, Dad."

"You see? How brave my little girl is!!"

Everyone sweatdropped.

[Err...right.]

-

Ryoga sighed deeply when he heard the door opening. He stood carefully, making sure the incense's smeel was strong and rich, and headed into kitchen, which was on the way to the hall, glancing at the clock and realizing that it was a little early for school to be over. Wary, he continued to the hall silently.

It was Ranma, however, calmly hanging up a borrowed coat, and smiling when he looked up and noticed the other boy.

Ignoring the gesture, Ryoga moved his eyes over his treasure, trying to discern if any damage had been taken today at school, if any one had touched and soiled his beauty. The test came back a negative, and he accepted the hug being offered, although nervously aware that *something* had happened, and that Ranma was trying to mask its emotional backwash from his aura.

"What's the matter, pet?" he asked quietly, tilting the boy's chin up and looking into his eyes intensely. "What happened to you? You look tired."

"Who wouldn't be, after last night?" was the smirking response as he tried to lower his chin.

Irked by the attempt to dodge the question, Ryoga tightened his grip, keeping Ranma's head still with an amount of focused strength that seemed to surprise the recipient. "Don't. Change the subject," he instructed mildly. "Something happened today. Something unpleasant. And you're home early. What happened?"

Ranma's eyes darted away, lashes fluttered beautifully with the movement. "Nothing...."

Oh. So, he was going to be difficult, was he? Well. That was fine. Unlike earlier, he was plenty in the right mood to deal with such disobediance.

He moved his hand gently over Ranma's throat, fingering the hallows in it, and brought the other up to grip his shoulder roughly. Pulling Ranma up the fraction of an inch that put them at the same height, he hissed lowly, "What. Happened?"

There was a brief hesitation. He squeezed his hand slightly, watched the wild fear that entered Ranma's eyes before it was replaced by...a kind of acceptance, felt his heart speeding in time with his other's.

"Are you going to tell me, or aren't you, love?" he asked fiercely.

Ranma jerked briefly, made a gesture with one hand to indicate inability to speak, and was dropped quietly to the stone work of the hall floor. Before he could hit, however, he was caught again.

"Is that a yes?"

"Yeah, I guess," Ranma answered weakly, eyes moving about once more in nverousness. "It's just...the iinazukes cornered me today...asked who'd 'violated' me. Called it 'fucking'. I didn't mean to, but...."

"Did you hurt them?" he asked, amused, though his eyes had taken on a hard light.

"What? No, of course not." Ranma sounded like he was trying to reassure away what seemed like disappointment in his other's composure. "I barked at 'em, and now the whole school knows I'm gay. I wanted to come out, sure, but not like that."

"They know, then?"

"Yeah. The who, too, if they're any good at guessing games."

He frowned. "They don't know you're mine?"

Ranma blinked. "Like I said, if they're any good at guessing games...."

"You didn't tell them."

"I didn't need to," Ranma protested, sensing the building displeasure. He felt like pleading, begging Ryoga not to be angry, but brushed the desire away. It was stupid. Why beg?

Abruptly, Ryoga smiled again. He reached out one hand, set it on Ranma's shoulder. And squeezed until his boy-god's beautiful blue eyes watered. Then released again, and kissed him softly.

"But you *will* make it perfectly clear tomorrow, right?"

"I wasn't planning on *going* to school tomorrow...."

"Right?" he repeated, the same hard edge coming back.

"...Right," Ranma agreed quietly. He didn't understand, Ryoga knew. Didn't understand why it was so important. But he respected Ryoga's needs, and that was good. That was progress. It wouldn't be long now, before he could let Ranma try possessing him in return.

Then, things would get interesting.

For now, though....

The hand he'd laid on Ranma's shoulder moved down in slow carress, slipping under his shirt, but being careful to avoid the welt forming where his hand had fallen before. Gently, sensuously, he once more slid Ranma out of his shirt, barely hearing Ranma's breath of a protest.

"Here? On the floor?"

The floor was hard and cold, so Ranma had a point. However...he didn't want to move...but the look in Ranma's eyes.... He picked his other up and carried him into the living room, pausing to knock the pillows of the couch onto the floor before setting him down onto it.

Kissing his stomach, he murmured, "Your shirt is going to get dirty in the hall."

"That's all right," Ranma gasped out, arching his back and sighing.

"No," he nibbled lightly on the warm flesh, "it isn't. Stay right here."

Ranma blinked, watching his lover go into the hall, retrieve the fallen shirt, and bring it back in. He set it against one of the arm chairs, fidgeted with it for a moment, and then came back again.

"Where were we?"

"Right about...here," Ranma answered, untying his drawstring pants and pulling them down around his hips. Ryoga stopped this progress with a touch of his hand.

Smiling darkly, he whispered, "Let me," against Ranma's cheek.

Lifting the other boy's hips and feet all at once, Ryoga slipped the pants down around his ankles and off, following them quickly with his underwear.

"What about my shoes?" Ranma asked breathlessly when Ryoga returned to sucking gently on his stomach.

He froze, motionless for an instant, looked up and Ranma, and pinched the head of his swollen penis painfully before answering, "They're fine where they are. Don't keep me from getting what I want at all. How about you?" Moving his fingers gently down and stroking Ranma's thigh with the opposite hand to prevent him from making a coherent response.

Ranma sighed deeply, blissfully, and moaned when Ryoga left off to kiss him deeply. He may not have gotten in much touching himself, but he got the feeling Ryoga prefered it that way. And everything felt so good, and he loved Ryoga so much.... He wasn't about to complain.

Then the kiss moved downwards on his body, pausing at his nipples, pausing at his stomach once more, and darting down his legs before making its way back up. He hadn't moaned in protest, though he'd felt it. Things like that...displeased his lover.

Suckling on Ranma's member, definitely a 3 on his top ten list of things to do, Ryoga worked his fingers carefully, teasing his beauty's anus, listening to his verbal responses while he squirmed around on the cusions. All as it should be. So perfect. So wonderful.

He pulled away abruptly, something unpleasant but necessary if things were to progress, and Ranma looked up at him with dazed eyes, eyes that knew this pause was only for the greater good, and then closed them again.

He didn't like that; he prefered his god always know who was here, always be aware of who was taking him. He prefered to always see that acknowledgement. But he understood the need to close one's eyes, and, more importantly, knew that Ranma only did this because it fit the mood. If he were aware of his lover's displeasure, he would not do so. Yes, knowing this, knowing that Ranma was finally beginning to understand how very thoroughly he belonged to Ryoga Hibiki, knowing this made it easy to let such affrontary slide.

Having removed his clothing speedily, he knelt reverently by Ranma's head, kissed him softly, and murmured, "I love you, sweet prince," against his lips before standing and stradling him.

Ranma was smiling, mirth in his eyes, something unexpected and mildly unpleasant. He frowned slightly, and waited for the response.

"You keep saying that, like I'll forget," Ranma mused in answer to the unasked question.

"You kept asking," Ryoga replied irritably, and plunged in abruptly, no warning and no lubrication. Then watched his other's face while the fiery pain-pleasure spread through his insides. Mouth opened and face twisted in something like horror, but he bit it back, clenching his jaw until his lower lip caught the red fire, bleeding.

He leaned forward, and licked it clean, whispering, "Mine," possessively as he did so.

Ranma's lip trembled against the touch of his tongue, and he gasped noisily when he could breathe again.

"I'm sorry, precious," Ryoga murmured into his ear, somewhat distressed at the insincere tone of it. But how could he really be sorry when he was feeling this, the pulp of Ranma's core, the intensity of the pressure and the heat? "I'm sorry, but that was necessary. I hope it won't happen again."

There was a slight, indistinct nod from his partner.

"You don't hurt *too* badly, do you, pet?" he asked tenderly, not pausing in his thrusts.

Shaking his head mutely, Ranma quaked a little with each deep movement. It felt like...but Kami, it hadn't hurt like this before. On a subconscious lever, he knew the lube had prevented this fire from attacking him the last time. And that his own heat and excitement and loose ass were all that prevented warm blood from dripping down his thighs.

A little too rough, both suspected, but neither saw fit to comment.

It didn't take long before the combination of fiery pain and pleasure and the inconsistant stimulation of his member threatened Ranma with release. He didn't resist it, as he had noticed that Ryoga liked only a certain amount of consciousness from him in their lovemaking. He knew, too, that his lover enjoyed feeling him come, and that he was only a little ways off from orgasam himself. He smiled briefly at the look on Ryoga's face, the ecstasy and something else, the dark possessiveness that he had come to love and hate and fear.

Too many emotions, and he was too tired to feel them. With a last shudder of his body, he felt Ryoga coming inside of him, and felt the hungry kiss pressed onto his mouth. Then he relaxed utterly against the couch, aware of a dripping wetness in his ass, and his lover wiping a little of his cum off their conjoined bellies to suck off his fingers.

I think I ought to have put a few more warnings on the previous parts.... Like S&;D, and S&;M. Oh well. We all learn from our mistakes. Don't we?

_%Beautiful Dreamer 6%_

Akane hadn't really expected Ranma back that night, either, but something inside her broke when morning found the guest room empty, Genma's things gone and Ranma's waiting in the hall to be picked up. She went downstairs and examined the large backpack.

Its presense, the fact that all his clothing went straight from being washed and into that back --even after over a year, for Kami's sake-- was yet another hint that she should have picked up on but hadn't. One more hint that Ranma didn't --hadn't, she corrected herself-- felt comfortable here. He'd always been just waiting for the need to leave, and had started out many times. He had never really lived in that room, though he'd taped a few pictures to the wall.

Tape. Not tacks, or nails, or push-pins, but tape.

When he came and collected his things, or her father threw them out, there would be nothing left of his presense. Even the slight indentation in the carpet of the guest room would fade eventually. She shivered. He may have been a jerk, but her anger yesterday, her attempts to hurt him...had been shallow, and even resigned. She wasn't an idiot; she'd been waiting for something like this for years.

Oh, certainly, she had grown...attached to the engagement, and comfortable with his presense. Even comfortable with the thought that they would someday be married. She felt a sort of regret at letting go of the image of starting a family with him.

She closed her eyes. They would have had two children, a boy and a girl, and she found herself rather fond of the thought that the little scamps would change genders just like their father. Still, she released that image into the air, and knelt beside Ranma's bag.

After a moment of hesitation, she opened it, almost ripping the sturdy leather in her haste. She blinked upon the contents -- his trademarked Chinese shirts in their white, red, green, lavender, and blue; a single neatly-folded white gi; a second pair of newer-looking black slippers; three pairs of socks; a bar of soap and a plain unmarked bottle of shampoo which were stored in a small cloth bag. The bag had probably been bought with these items in mind, as it was only just large enough to accomidate and lined with black plastic. A clear, liquid bottle of brand-name deoderant had been stored in the front pocket, along with the photographs Kasumi, she rather suspected, had gathered from the walls.

The deoderant didn't look or smell like something Ranma would have gotten for himself. The shampoo was scentless, save a vague, not unpleasant tang of rasberries; the deoderant was "powder-fresh", and reminded her of the things Kasumi owned herself. Before coming here, Ranma had probably just done without; scents didn't tend to linger when one was surrounded by the constantly-changing outdoors.

The lack of personal items --it could easily have been packed by his mother-- made the bag seem sterile. She had, Akane supposed, expected and wanted to find some trace of Ranma Saotome in it, but there was none, and she suspected that that in and of itself said something. Closing her eyes, she imagined a little boy who had learned not to be emotionally dependant on either objects, or people. His mother, who was the first person a child should learn to make a strong emotional connection with, had been cruelly denied, and instead, he'd been given a father who, though not intentionally heartless, gave him no instruction of how to deal with other people, with the exception of various scraps of bad advice on women.

She supposed that it was really no surprise that he'd grown up believing heart and soul that women were not to be taken seriously in combat; he clung to the things his father told him, and tried his utmost to make Genma proud. Yet, at the same time, he was bitter about his solitary childhood, and whenever his father burned him, he nonchaulantly burned back. She sighed deeply, and repacked his bag.

The more she thought about it, the more she felt sorry for her former iinazuke, and began to hope sincerely that he would come back at least once. She wanted to apologize, and to wish him all the happiness he might have. She sensed that he'd placed the same weight on his relationship with Ryoga that he had placed all those times on his father's words. If Ryoga turned out not to be "the one", she just hoped he'd at least help Ranma pick up the pieces and move on.

-

Shampoo remained listlessly on her bed, as she had all of yesterday and all last night. Staring off into space, and wondering what it was that she had done in her past lives to anger the gods so much that they would do *this* to her. Her airen, her husband, didn't love her.

Why?

Mousse came in, and left again. And she got the feeling that he was nervous of staying too long. He had quietly reported that, yesterday, he'd spoken with Ranma. Eyes devoid of all emotion, she asked if her airen was now dead. It was the sort of thing Mousse might have done.

Looking blank, he had said no, had said that they hadn't even fought. Trying to hide her disappointment, she had nodded. Then she told him that she did not, could not, love him. He had seemed to understand, had nodded back, and told her that he would be remaining behind in Japan when she and the matriarch went back to China, after Ranma was dead.

She, startled, had responded that she didn't want Ranma dead.

He, raising an eyebrow but not objecting, had stated simply that Cologne wanted to bring the Japanese boy back into the Amazon fold, even if brainwashing by virtue of 114 shampoo ws necessary. That the ancient woman felt her *own* honor was at stake now, not only her great-granddaughter's.

This was true; technically, Cologne had been defeated in combat. Being a matriarch gave her the right to choose another to receive her penence of marriage to him, but his defeat of a leader of the Joketsuzoku made him not only an accet, but a necessity. He either needed to enter the Amazon family, or die, and Mousse felt Ranma would rather die. This thought fell upon Shampoo heavily, and the warrior-maiden was hard-pressed to reply.

She had always considered her great-grandmother a little odd, and recently, some of the council members had been saying privately that she was more than odd, eccentric. But this obsession with honor...even when it meant the life of someone she knew the old woman had become very gond of...was beyond eccentric. When they returned to China, she would make sure her great-grandmother was evicted from her position. This sort of lapse in judgement could not go unchallenged.

Quietly, the opposite youth asked, "You want to help him, don't you?"

She nodded, after a breath.

"All right," he agreed in the same tone.

"So glad to hear you're willing, Mu Tsu."

Blinking, each turned to face the door, Shampoo reading herself for combat and Mousse backing to the far side of the room. Before the warrior-maiden could fully face her opponant, the old crone grasped her neck, gently pressing an index finger into the nerve at the base of the spine. Eyes going blank, the younger Amazon collapsed.

Seeing his loved one incopacitated, Mousse made ready to charge, but was interrupted mid-stride by a casually thrown glass of water. The old woman had never considered him as much of a threat as her own flesh and blood.

Moving forward swiftly and grasping the struggling duck by his long white neck, Cologne hissed out, "Darling Mu-Mu-chan, you mustn't struggle so. You are instrumental in what is to come."

A strangled gutteral quaking noise was her only answer as the smaller creature lost consciousness.

-

As with the day before, Ryoga woke long before his mate. Silent, stilling even his breathing, he took this time to just enjoy the feeling of his boy-god against him, curled and to his right. Each lay turned on their sides, his arms tightly around Ranma to ensure he wouldn't lose his perchase on the narrow couch. They *would* have moved upstairs, but Ranma had fallen asleep again, and he couldn't bring himself to move the boy and risk waking him up in the middle of the night.

He stroked Ranma's hair absently, marveling at its silkiness it its all-too-rarely loose state, and glanced at the window on the adjacent wall. It seemed about six AM. Soon, he would have to awaken his sleeping lover and send him off to school, though perhaps *this* time, he *would* accompany him. The situation at school yesterday had been potentionally emotionally damaging, and though his god had responded correctly, there was no guarantee a second trial would be so harmless. Loving Ranma as he did, he regused to chance this.

It had seemed like a good idea, but they were all unfeeling monsters, something he had neither counted on, nor prepared for. He would *not* let his precious be corrupted by this.

Hesitating a moment, he decided to get up and wander about for a bit before he had to move his lover. Slowly, and after deciging there was no way he was going to avoid waking Ranma in human form, he managed to topple an innocent glass of water that had been waiting patiently on that end table since before they'd arrived. Shrinking into P-chan, he darted down to the foot of the couch, jumped the armrest, and hurried up the stairs and into the bathroom.

After changing back, Ryoga couldn't help noticing the yellow taby cat that had settled itself under the dining room table. Without so much as a second thought, he hurtled the cat outside, wondering how it had managed to get in here, and glad of his earlier resolution.

With a cleansing sigh, he began to make breakfast. It was a combination he rather thought Ranma would enjoy; French pasteries, pancakes, served with rice and egg yolk, and miso soup. Fork was the prefered utensil, but if Ranma wanted to try eating pancakes with chopsticks, he was welcome to it. The sight would msot certainly be amusing. Humminh absently to himself, he walked calmly back into the living room, and gently jostled his lover awake.

The customary sapphire blues blinked themselves open, and he looked up at Ryoga with a little smile before stretching. Loud pops resulted from his spine, and he groaned and scratched his head, then blinked at the window.

"Last time I sleep on a couch. Hey, what time is it, anyhow?"

"Oh, about six-forty-five, maybe seven already. We've got an hour to get you over to the Dojo and gather your things. You don't really want to wear the same clothes for the third day in a row, do you?"

Still half-asleep, Ranma's answer was a muffled, "I do if it means I get a little more shut-eye," before turning onto his other side.

Sighing with more than his usual patience, Ryoga jerked the other boy off his makeshift bead and swung him around into a piggy-back position. Ranma blinked.

"Wha' 'cha doin'?"

"You're cleaning off, and we're going over to the Dojo."

"But I don' wanna...."

This was pushing it. Giving his lover a nasty little shake, Ryoga marched over to the stairs and headed up them, skipping every other so as to keep Ranma awake. Upon reaching the bathroom, he rather unceremoneously dumped his other into the steaming furo.

Ranma sat up sputtering, and rubbing the water from his eyes.

"Good morning," Ryoga greeted pleasantly, and then pulled Ranma back out again. You weren't supposed to bathe in the furo, though it had certainly had the desired effect.

With one last murderous glare, Ranma submitted and made his way into the shower.

"Don't look at me that way, I'm doing this for your own good," Ryoga stated in response to the look, though it was hard rather than playful. He watched lecherously for a moment, noting how his god's first reaction to being stared at was a hasty cover-up, quickly followed by a resigned sort of exhibitionism.

Yes, their relationship was progressing nicely. He calculated at one more day before Ranma would completely understand the concept of possession. Then maybe he could let up on this.

Maybe. Maybe not.

After Ranma had finished, he stepped out of the shower elequently, and was greeted by a large fluffy orange towel. It was an eye-sore, but very soft and big enough to thoroughly dry an entire body. Besides, part of the charm of the towel was seeing his lover with nothing but that orange towel around his torso. The chest modesty, he rather suspected, had been ingrained from the past two years of being half-girl. But he would break his treasure of that habit.

For now, he simply tore the towel away entirely, and waited while Ranma turned obediantly away from him, allowing himself to be dried off, sighing softly at the feel of it. He smirked a little, tempted to take advantage of the situation, but then shook his head. They were on a tight schedule here.

Soon as Ranma was completely dry and dressed, they headed downstairs again together, and he indicated the breakfast that had been prepared. Ranma, smiling at the size and smell of it, sat down eagerly at the chair pulled back for him, and lifted the fork.

No. Not for the first bite.

He reached out gently but firmly, and asked, "What did you want to start?"

Looking at him oddly, Ranma answered, "I was gonna try the pancakes. Is that okay?" he added in a voice so pathetic and wounded it threatened to break Ryoga's heart.

Sighing heavily, he nodded reassurance, and went on, "I just wanted to feed you the first bite of it. Is that all right?"

"Of course," was the automatic-sounding reply. Accompanied by an affectionate little smile not unlike the one he had awakened with.

"Good."

Breakfast moved relatively smoothly from there, though he felt that Ranma was somewhat unnerved by the way he was being watched. So intently, unblinking. As though Ryoga were trying to memorize his chewing patterns. Yes, unnerved. But smiling still nonetheless. Behavior was not to be questioned, especially not something so insignificant as this.

Then they were leaving the house, Ryoga locking it securely behind him, and heading off in the direction of the Dojo. He knew, of course, that Ranma could lead them astray, but trusted that his boy-god would do nothing so deceptive, and his faith was rewarded by the quick-appearing and ever-so familiar building.

After a pause, he knocked.

"Coming," a female voice, Akane, bellowed.

The door opened, and she smiled out at Ranma, her own school uniform in something of a disaray, but on and ready nonetheless. She would be leaving soon, herself.

"Ranma, Ryoga," she said self-importantly, looking very pleased.

Ranma started to reply, but Ryoga cut him off. No time for pleasantries. Especially not with Akane.

"We're here for Ranma's things," he stated evenly, and waited for her reaction.

She frowned a little, but nodded. "His bag's in the hall closet. We were just having breakfast...would you like to come in?"

"Yes," Ranma answered, and was blissfully unaware of the sharp look he received. "Only for a moment, though. I already ate."

Akane nodded, an "of course, of course" nod, and ussured them in, closing the door behind.

"Where's Pop?"

"Oh. Him. He left early this morning, or late last night. I'm not sure which." When Ranma looked crestfallen, she added hastily, "It's not that he doesn't approve. He's only afraid that Aunt...Saotome-san will find him." The last was said with a bit of a blush while examining her feet.

"Okay," was the strained-sounding response.

There was a long silence.

"What about that breakfast," Akane said suddenly, and made shooing motions towards the dining room.

Ranma complied, Ryoga was forced to follow, and they both sat down at the breakfast table.

"What are you doing?" Ryoga hissed lowly.

"Aren't you hungry?" Ranma whispered back innocently, though there was a slight nervous tremor to his voice.

"Not especially. But I'll eat a little."

Seeming relieved, Ranma reached across the table and set up a plate, handing it to his lover upon completion.

"Good morning, Ranma-kun, Ryoga-kun," Kasumi said pleasantly, when there was a break in their whispering.

"Good morning, Kasumi-san," Ryoga returned, and Ranma nodded.

"How are you boys?" Nabiki asked with a smirk, leaning across the table herself, instinctively moving closer to the possible entertainment.

"Fine."

"Wonderful."

She smirked. "I see. Well, perhaps you'd better confer. I just wanted to say one thing before I went off to school -- some people *do* need to go to school, you know." Nabiki stood, taking a piece of toast with her. "Congratulations, you two. On everything. Bye, now." And she hurried out the door.

Kasumi smiled weakly. Soun pulled his newspaper up a little higher and ignored the added presense at his table. Ranma sighed and stared into his lap dispondently. Ryoga growled when he noticed his other's depression.

Akane came back in again, holding out the bag. "You done there, Ryoga-kun?" she asked sweetly.

Managing a plastic smile, Ryoga nodded. Then he poked Ranma in the side and whispered, "Change. Green shirt today, all right?"

With the barest hint of a nod, Ranma stood, took his pack, and headed to the nearest bathroom with it.

Standing himself, Ryoga accompanied Akane back into the hall.

"So...how's everything?" she asked uncomfortably, once more staring at the floor.

"You heard him. Wonderful." he responded flatly, eyeing her for any adverse reactions like those he'd witnessed in the past.

"Glad to hear it." Her voice trembled with its sad attempt at cheer.

He smirked. "No, you aren't." Eyes turned calculating. "You loved him, didn't you?"

She jerked as though slapped. Then looked at him with the same sorrowful expression. "Maybe. But it doesn't matter, does it?"

"True. I love him, he loves me. And I'd appreciate it if you'd stop trying to change it."

She looked confused.

"Drop the kawaii iinazuke routine. It isn't going to change anything now. And it's getting on my nerves."

"Wha -- what routine?" she asked vacantly.

He slammed a fist into the doorframe. "Just. Drop it. All right?"

She nodded, looking confused. "Look...I'm sorry for the way I've been. Really, I am. I've been selfish, and I was really mean to him at school yesterday. I embarrassed him in front of everyone. I'm just trying to make up for it. I...I know you two are together, Ryoga-kun. And I can accept that. But...tell me...is he happy?"

Taken aback, Ryoga answered sharply, "Of course he is. He's where he belongs, Akane-chan. Where he always has. This all should have happened long ago. But it has now. Why wouldn't he be happy?"

"I don't know...." She sighed, looked defeated. "I just thought...never mind. Give him my best, all right?"

She was clearly bothered by his tone. But that was all right. It didn't matter.

Nothing so trivial mattered anymore.

Next Part