Okay, I think I'm finally ready to break out the first part of my Ranma/Ryoga story. Nothing too terrible in this first chapter, but I've got plans for some pretty nasty and naughty stuff later in the story. C&C is welcome as always, and feel free to archive away.

DISCLAIMER: The characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi, not me, and though I may torture them, I really love them deep down inside. And since no one would pay me for this tripe, I'm not making any money off of this.

~Casualties of Honor~
Chapter One - Dating the Enemy

The restaurant was elegant and beautiful, a darkened arena filled with small private tables, candlelight, lush plants and gently whispering fountains. At one end, a romantically lit dance floor was in use by various couples, all moving to the soothing sounds of an easy beat produced by the small band on stage. Along one wall, a long bar catered to high classed patrons, businessmen and lovers who were there for the dancing, or waiting for a table to open up. There was a heavy and sultry mood permeating the entire establishment, and in her seat at one of the reclusive back tables, an undeniably beautiful woman had fit herself into the scene perfectly.

She was small and delicate, a vision of loveliness with long flowing flame red hair and large dark blue eyes. Her finely featured face was highlighted by the candles which lit the table, adding a certain amount of mystery to her fresh young radiance. She wore a kimono, styled especially for formal occasions, of rich black with embroidered green silk dragon and flower designs. Green ribbons laced through her hair accented the outfit perfectly, and were her only adornment. She had no need of jewelry or other finery to off-set her looks, for she was a natural beauty, with a soft grace and charm that caught the eye of many male patrons, all of whom found themselves rather envious of her clearly reluctant dining companion.

"How in the world did I get roped into this?" he asked plaintively.

"Oh, shut up and decide what you want to order."

Ryoga Hibiki sighed audibly and looked down at the menu he held in his hands. He was feeling too unsettled to actually read the descriptions presented for the meals, which was too bad as he hadn't eaten a nice meal in quite some time. He quickly lost his concentration and laid the menu down, looking around the darkened restaurant and fidgeting edgily. His discomfort prompted a dirty look from his beautiful companion, who was trying to decide what she wanted from her own menu. She leaned forward, leveling a cool look at him.

"Look, I ain't any happier about this than you are, Ryoga," she said in a low tone, glancing around the restaurant in what was meant to be a casual manner. Only Ryoga was close enough to see the nervous expression she was trying to hide. "Just try to make the best of the situation, would ya? Think of it as nothing more than a free meal."

Ryoga glanced up, his dark brown eyes shadowed by thick black bangs. He was obviously not pleased. "I should know better than to listen to you when you haven't seen me in over a month and you start the conversation with ~Yo Ryoga! We're buddies, aren't we?~ You only call me your buddy when you want something," he grumbled. "If your honor as a man weren't at stake, Ranma, I would never have gone along with this."

"Keep your voice down," Ranma said warningly, pushing irritably at a lock of red hair which flipped down into her face. "I'm Ranko, remember? And I'm sure my dear Auntie Saotome has spies everywhere, keeping tabs on our date."

"This is not a date," Ryoga hissed, looking appalled by the very idea.

"Of course it ain't. But we gotta make it look good, at least." Ranma sighed, resting her small chin in her hand, elbow on the table. She continued in a low tone that only Ryoga could hear. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this, alright? But its not my fault that my mother seems insistent on Ranko Tendo finding a nice man and settling down. I dunno what her malfunction is, why she's so obsessed with this, but she already had me set up on this date with a son of a friend of hers. I had to think fast or get saddled with some strange guy for the evening."

"So, you told her that I was your boyfriend," Ryoga said flatly.

"Well!" Ranma winced. "You were away at the time and I thought it would be a safe lie. How was I to know that you were about to show up again? C'mon man, this isn't so bad, is it? You get a free meal out of it, plus you get to be seen with me," she broke into a beaming smile as she sat back and fluffed her hair a bit. "I'm quite obviously the most gorgeous creature around. It'll do wonders for your reputation."

"Yeah right, Ranma," Ryoga picked up his menu again and failed to look as though he were absorbed in reading it.

"Its Ranko, moron. And hey, you know, I could have done worse too. Kasumi did a pretty good job cleaning you up."

Ryoga blushed fervently. He had been hastily attired in one of Ranma's dressier outfits, since he himself didn't own any clothes that could be considered formal. Red wasn't normally a color he chose to wear, but the Chinese-style long sleeved shirt did look nice on him, though it was a trifle loose. It was embroidered with black silk in whorled abstract designs that looked very striking against the red color. And he wore black silk pants with a sash to match. The only thing Kasumi couldn't convince him to change was his headband, which was his usual dark yellow with black stripes. But instead of ruining the look, it actually lent an air of handsome ruggedness to the ensemble. Ryoga wasn't used to wearing fancy clothes or going to elegant restaurants. He felt ridiculous and uncomfortable, and he was sure that Ranma was teasing him just to be petty, so he didn't reply. He buried his face in his menu and tried once again to concentrate on what the restaurant had to offer.

Ranma smirked knowingly. Ryoga was so predictable. Pleased, she regarded her own menu once more. "So, what looks good?"

"I'm not sure," Ryoga said quietly, still self-conscious. "Most of this stuff I can't even pronounce."

"Hmmm. Just get the cordon bleu. That sounds safe enough."

Ryoga looked up sharply, turning a couple of shades paler than normal. "Ranma, that has ham on it," he said aghast, anger already igniting in his eyes.

She blinked innocently. "So?"

"Ranma!"

Ranma giggled, drawing the attention of a couple young men who were sitting nearby. They smiled to themselves at how sweet and lovely the young red-haired girl was. Ryoga, however, was scowling darkly.

"I'm sorry, Ryoga. I'm just trying to get you to loosen up a bit. Dates are suppose to be fun."

"This is not - - "

"I know, I know. But we can still have fun, can't we?" She crossed her arms and mimicked his expression and tone of voice. "Stop being so serious all the time, P-Chan."

Ryoga ground his teeth. "In case you've forgotten, Ranma, just this morning I was trying to kill you. We're rivals, and I'm only here because if your mother found out about your Jusenkyo curse she would force you to commit seppuku, and I'm not going to let you kill yourself before I get the chance to do it for you." Ryoga glared daggers across the table at her.

"Yeah yeah," Ranma waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Whatever. Here comes the waiter, better decide what ya want."

After much hemming and hawing, asking the waiter for suggestions and repeated changes of mind, the two got their dinner ordered and the poor haggled man retreated quickly from their table. For several long moments afterward, neither of them spoke. Ranma spent her time contemplating the various patrons, wondering which of them had been hired by her mother to spy on them. And why the heck was she so insistent on making Ranko her little pet charity project, anyway? It didn't make any sense, and Ranma hated mysteries of that sort. His mother's attentions towards Ranko were uncomfortable and nerve-wracking. While Ranma brooded about this, Ryoga fixed his eyes on the table in front of him, and fiddled with his utensils, wishing that he were anyplace but where he was. Even that week he had been lost in Detroit would be better than this.

Finally Ranma hopped up, bouncing pertly. She grabbed Ryoga's hand and pulled at him. "C'mon Ryoga. Let's go."

"Go?" Ryoga asked hopefully.

"Yes," she nodded as he pushed his chair back and stood. She began propelling him towards the other end of the restaurant. "Let's go dance."

"D - dance?!" Ryoga squeaked. He stopped up short, yanking his hand away from her. "I'm not dancing with you!"

Ranma planted a forced smile on her face, glancing around at the other diners whose attention had been attracted. "Ryoga, -honey-," she said pointedly through her teeth, "I'd like to dance."

He shook his head and headed back to their table. "No way."

Ranma followed him, grabbing the sleeve of his shirt and forcefully jerking him down so that she could hiss in his ear. "Damn you Ryoga, I told you that we gotta make this look good! And besides, I want to get a better look at the people at one of those far tables. I think they might be Mom's spies."

Ryoga shrugged her off. "I am -not- dancing with you, Ranma," he said firmly and sat himself at the table, crossing his arms over his chest and looking very perturbed. "I can't believe that you would even ask something like that."

The lovely red-head fumed for a moment in frustration, then a dangerously crafty light began to twinkle in her stormy blue eyes. She returned to her seat and leaned on the table, smiling ever-so-sweetly at her scowling companion. "Alright P-Chan, you don't gotta dance with me," she purred lowly. "But, there is the small matter of a certain secret that you'd rather not have spread around . . . " she trailed off, letting the sentence dangle. It was almost delightful to watch a furious blush of understanding spread over Ryoga's features.

"Ranma Saotome!" he snarled, his fangs showing plainly.

"Shhhh!" she glanced around.

Ryoga lowered his voice, but it was still laced with an intense tone of outrage. "You -swore- to me that you would never -"

She nodded. "I sure did, but I'm not the only one who knows, remember. It would be a shame if I hinted to them that certain people would be very interested in that sort of information."

Ryoga looked about ready to spring over the table and strangle her, and for a moment Ranma sincerely hoped that she hadn't pushed him too far. Ryoga's temperament was predictable in occurrence but not always in intensity. And he had a tendency to forget his training when he was angry, which normally resulted in a great deal of property damage. Ranma did not want to juggle an explanation on how the restaurant had been destroyed when she faced her mother that night. She was relieved when Ryoga took a deep breath and calmed himself down, apparently remembering that she was presently a girl and they were in a public place. The hostile glare was still visible in his eyes, however. He was not going to forgive this one any time soon.

"Alright," he said in a tight and hurt voice.

Ranma felt a moment's guilt at the betrayed look he gave her, but reminded herself firmly that this was for a good cause. They had to make this date look legitimate. If her mother found out that Ranko was not a cousin of the Tendo clan but actually her own son, there would be major hell to pay. Ranma mentally promised himself that he would make it up to Ryoga later, maybe by letting him get a few good hits in during a fight or something.

She stood and offered her hand to Ryoga. The dark-eyed boy glared at her for a long moment, then took her hand and stood. Ranma was a little surprised by how hot Ryoga's skin seemed. Apparently he was very mad, but she was impressed by how well he was managing to keep himself in check. Ryoga didn't usually possess that much self control. She gripped his hand and led him across the restaurant, smiling sweetly at the other diners who happened to look up at their passing. She hoped that their brief tiff hadn't caused too much of a scene. A little altercation she could probably pass off as nothing more than a lover's quarrel.

({ Lover's quarrel? Man, this is so pathetic, }) Ranma winced to herself. ({ This is a sure indication of just how low I've sunk. I've forced Ryoga, of all people, out on a date! Damn, maybe I -should- just let him kill me and put me out of my misery. Judging by the look he's giving me, I wouldn't have to ask twice. })

The dance floor was gently lit, and a slow romantic tune was being played. Ranma glanced at the other couples briefly to see how they were dancing so that he and Ryoga could emulate them, and she was dismayed to see that they were all positioned very close to their partners, moving in tight formation. However, Ranma also noticed, with some satisfaction, that she and Ryoga were the best looking couple there. That was a point in their favor.

She looked up at Ryoga as he stopped in front of her, an unnerved expression on his face. Apparently he had also noticed how close everyone else was dancing. Ranma smiled lightly. She had to admit, as distasteful as the thought was, that Ryoga was by far the most handsome young man on the floor. He really -had- cleaned up nicely. ({ Geeze, if Ryoga just made a bit more of an effort, he'd be able to attract a girlfriend in no time. He's really pretty good looking . . . okay, that's enough of that line of thought. I think my girl-half is starting to get to me, here. })

Grumbling mentally, Ranma slipped one hand up onto Ryoga's shoulder and snaked the other around his waist. With the same blankly terrified look of a deer caught in headlights, the young man froze.

"Ryoga," Ranma quickly became irritated, but tried to keep her face neutral and her voice in check. "C'mon boy, wake up. Your left hand goes on my waist, and your other hand . . . oh wait, you're the man, you have to lead." She quickly changed the position of her hands, grabbing his at the same time and placing them where they should go. As she pressed herself as close to him as she could comfortably stand and nudged him into moving, Ranma noticed absently that Ryoga seemed to be more slender than she remembered him being. Well, he had been away for quite a while this last time. Losing a bit of weight was one of the hazards of hard traveling. "Ryoga, you have to lead," she reminded when he didn't move. "Loosen up. Don't you know anything about dancing?"

Ryoga's reply was a nervous hiss. "No, Ranma. I don't."

Ranma's blue eyes widened and she looked up at him in surprise. "What? You mean you've never danced before?"

"N - no," Ryoga turned a lovely shade of pale pink.

Ranma resisted the urge to laugh or say something teasing. Ticking Ryoga off now would not be a good idea, but she mentally filed this new information away to be used later when she felt like picking on him. She was a bit surprised that he had never danced before, but as she thought about it, she realized that it made sense. Ryoga was always on the move, he didn't socialize or attend school. His time was spent surviving on the road and honing his martial arts abilities. Dancing probably wasn't very high on his list of skills to master. "Alright," she acquiesced. "I'll lead. There ain't nothing to this, so just relax and move with me. Just like sparring, only not as fast and not as violent. Are you with me here?"

Ryoga nodded silently, swallowing hard. She felt his grip on her tighten slightly as she began to move them in a slow tight box step, imitating the other dancers. It was far simpler than most of the footwork they were used to, so she wasn't surprised that it took Ryoga only a few moments to master the movement. As soon as they were dancing in an acceptable fashion, Ranma leaned her body against his, resting her head against his shoulder to slyly watch the people she had earlier marked as a potential spies. Ryoga stiffened at first, but seemed resigned to his fate and relaxed into the dance as she settled into place in his arms.

({ Yep, }) Ranma thought to herself a few moments later. ({ I'm almost positive I recognize that woman as one of Mom's friends. And that young man that's with her looks enough like her to be her son, probably the same son of a friend that Mom was trying to hook me up with in the first place. Man, what was she thinking? I'm sure he's a nice guy, cause he don't got much in the way of looks at all. Ryoga's got that guy beat, no doubt. })

Since she was stewing over her mother's match-making, Ranma didn't really notice at first that Ryoga had taken the lead in their dancing. Beneath her hands, he relaxed and was now guiding them over the floor as if they had been dancing together for years. When Ranma finally took note, she looked up to find that he had his eyes tightly shut, with a vaguely pained expression on his face, but was dancing with grace and poise regardless. She had to wonder about the contradictions between his countenance and his movement.

"I'm sure that those are the people keeping tabs on us for Mommy dearest," Ranma whispered lowly as Ryoga turned them so that he was facing the table in question. He looked, but didn't seem too interested. There was a nervous light in his eyes.

"Hey," Ranma smirked up at him, hoping that a little good-natured barbing would put him more at ease. "You're a natural dancer, Ryoga. Who would have guessed that, huh?" She chuckled lightly. "Next time you get lost and are low on funds, you should hire yourself out as a male escort. Afterall, you're doing great so far tonight."

To her surprise, Ryoga stiffened and came to a halt in mid-step. He pushed her away slowly, biting his lower lip with the tip of one fang in an effort to keep his emotions in check. Ranma couldn't tell if he was upset or angry, but it didn't really matter. She knew that she had crossed some invisible line with him, though she had no idea what that line was.

"Ryoga?" she blinked, feeling mildly worried. She saw him shut himself down, bring up a wall of concrete in his mind that would block out whatever she had just released. His expression smoothed out and his eyes took on a dead glaze as he got a hold of himself. In all the years she had known him, Ranma had never seen Ryoga bury his feelings in such a way before. It was more his nature to lose control, to unleash his rage or anger in violence, or to become so overwhelmed that he cried. This . . . this shutting down was almost creepy, and Ranma instantly understood that she had just dug up something that was far more serious than their minor scuffles, arguments or rivalry over Akane. Something was very very wrong here. Bad enough that Ryoga could not -would not- process it. But, what had prompted it? Something she said? The dancing? This whole date nonsense?

"I think our food is ready," Ryoga said in a flat lifeless tone she had never heard from him before. There was a slight underlying tremble to his words, but Ranma couldn't pinpoint it exactly. Whatever was wrong, he was hiding it very well, and that was incredibly worrisome. Ranma nodded mutely and followed him back to their table, keeping hold of his hand to keep up the charade. His skin was still warm but his grip was slack. Forgetting about her mother's match-making for the moment, Ranma ate her dinner in the heavy silence Ryoga created, and wondered what had just happened.

~Casualties of Honor~
Chapter Two - A Kiss Too Far

"You're being way too quiet, Hibiki. What's the problem? Was your fish bad?"

Ranma and Ryoga were walking, side by side, through the park along the river front. It was a lovely autumn evening. The air was just crisp enough to feel good after being in the restaurant, and there was a slight breeze ruffling through the leaves of the trees, which caused a gentle murmuring rustle as ever-present background noise. The last of what had been a gorgeous sunset was fading away in the west across the river, its fiery colors drowning in the sea of dark blue presently spreading over the sky. Lamp posts that lit the paths through the park were coming on one by one, illuminating others out to enjoy the evening. It was a beautiful evening, an ideal setting for a first date, but Ranma had to keep reminding herself that this was not a real date. This was a ruse, a charade being played out for his honor as a martial artist and a man.

Ranma was feeling slightly self-conscious. Not only were they being followed by the people she had marked in the restaurant, but other couples they passed were cuddling close on park benches, holding hands, enjoying each other's company. She and Ryoga were walking in silence, and though she had tried to take his hand to keep up appearances, Ryoga had pulled away. She knew that he was beyond furious with her, that she had over-stepped the limits of their shaky pseudo-friendship by dragging him into this scheme with her, but when she thought about it, analyzed it . . . Ryoga was really the only male that she trusted enough to even consider asking for help in this situation. He understood honor. He understood male pride and not wanting to appear as anything less in the eyes of those that mattered. And Ryoga had helped him out many times in the past, a deeply buried part of Ranma knew that the Lost Boy could always be counted on for support and assistance.

Which was why the anger he was radiating was disturbing. She had pushed him a little too far at the restaurant, though she still wasn't sure how.

Ryoga looked up in response to her question, the first words either of them had uttered since leaving the restaurant. Though the expression on his face was one of vague bemusement, there was no hint of a smile on his lips or in his eyes. He was mad, but he was controlling it with remarkable restraint. "No, Ranma - I mean Ranko. The fish was fine."

"Well, you're not going to win any awards for conversational skills, pal. Can't you even make an attempt to loosen up a bit?" Ranma frowned at him. "I mean, this is just one night out. We've survived a heck of a lot worse than this, and even in the middle of the most heated fight I usually can't get you to shut up. What's the deal?"

Ryoga looked like he was mentally counting to ten. "I really don't have much to say to you, Ranma. And aside from that, I'm tired. You know, you practically kidnaped me to drag me out on this date with you. I just got back into town this morning, and you didn't even give me a chance to rest before you had Kasumi playing dress-up with me."

"Look, how many more times do you want me to apologize? This was not my doing. Do you think that I would actually -want- to go out on a date with you if I had any other choice?" she folded her arms as she walked, a pert scowl on her face. It faded quickly, however, as she picked up a related topic, one that she hoped would get him talking a little more. She was still disturbed by his abrupt shut-down on the dance floor, and wondered if perhaps something had happened to him on the road. Though she didn't like to show it, she did often consider Ryoga more of a friend than a rival, afterall they had known each other since they were children, and she was concerned that there was something wrong. "You know . . ." she ventured, "Come to think of it, we -haven't- seen you in awhile. Not in close to two months, I'll bet. Where've ya been?"

Ryoga gazed out over the river with a indistinctly angry frown. "Nowhere." The breeze kicked up, swirling a stream of early autumn fallen leaves around them, which scattered in their wake as they walked.

"Two months is an awful long time to be nowhere," Ranma pointed out.

The dark haired young man increased his pace and raised his eyes to fix an annoyed glare on her. "Could we please cut the attempts at small talk? Let's just get back to the dojo, alright? I'm tired and I want this evening to be over with. You're not exactly my idea of the perfect date."

"I'm sorry I'm not Akane," Ranma snapped, then gestured in a direction vastly different from the one they were headed in. "And the dojo is that way, genius. But its too early to head back now. We have to stay out at least an hour longer to make this look good. Besides," she glanced behind them, "Our friends from the restaurant are still keeping tabs on us, so please try to look like you're enjoying yourself."

"I've never been a good actor, Ranko," Ryoga replied tightly, shooting her a dirty scowl.

({ Well, you seem to be doing a fine job of it now, Ryoga, }) Ranma thought to herself, tossing her companion a sideways glance. ({ I know that something is wrong, but you're hiding it well. If you were anyone else, I wouldn't be able to tell. But the fact that you've been so calm all evening is a sure tip off. I can't believe you haven't thrown a tantrum yet. })

Ranma sighed lowly and kept pace with him, watching the other couples as they made their way through the darkening park. They looked very out of place, with Ryoga keeping as far from her as he possibly could and walking swiftly. He either ignored any of her attempts at small talk or answered her shortly, and Ranma fretted not only over his cold attitude, but also over whether or not their followers were buying the act. Biting her lower lip, she hurried to place herself close to Ryoga's side, slipping her arm through his.

He stiffened immediately and shot her a vicious look. "Ran -"

"Shhh!" she interrupted. Looking up at him, she swallowed hard and implored, "Ryoga, please!"

The Lost Boy faltered. Ranma was not the type of person who often resorted to pleading. He had more pride than that. It apparently occurred to Ryoga then that this was serious and that he had forgotten their main reason for being on this stupid date in the first place. Ranma's honor. His future as a man and a martial artist. Tightening his jaw, Ryoga nodded slowly and put an arm around Ranko's shoulders. Because she was so much shorter than he, it was a bit difficult to continue their walk that way, but they managed, bumping into each other only a few times.

************************************************

As Ranma expected, lights were on at the Tendo residence when she and Ryoga arrived. The date was over, but the ordeal was not. Now she would have to face her mother and pretend that she and Ryoga had a wonderful time, that everything had gone well, and that she was pleased to have gone out. What a crock. Right now the only thing Ranma really wanted was a hot bath and her comfortable futon in the Tendo's guest room.

She sighed heavily and paused them beneath one of the lamps that lit the street just outside the house. When she looked up at Ryoga, she became acutely aware of how tired he must have been, for his dark eyes were heavy with exhaustion and he carried himself without the usual poise that came from martial arts training. She wondered briefly how far he had traveled this last time out, and speculated again on what could have happened that seemed so disturbing to him. He had been behaving rather out of character all night . . . actually, now that she thought about it, he had acted strangely since first showing up that morning. His greeting to Akane had been unusually bland, with none of his normal nervous stuttering or anxiety. But Ranma had been so caught up in her own impending problems, that she hadn't quite taken notice of it at the time.

({ And then I go and drag him off on this ridiculous date. Geez, am I a major jerk, or what? The poor guy has enough problems without me making it worse for him. })

"Alright," Ranma began. "Just drop me off at the front door, then follow the wall around to the back of the garden and hop over. I'll try to hustle Mom out as soon as I can. Then we can change out of these freak'n uncomfortable clothes and catch a breather. I'm sure Mr. Tendo won't mind putting you up for the night, and we could do a little sparring before bed if you want." Maybe she could get him to release some of that anger he'd pent up from the evening, and a few well-placed questions might get him talking again.

Ryoga frowned dully. "No thanks, Ranma. I'd rather beat up on you when I'm awake enough to enjoy it."

Ranma chuckled. "Tomorrow, then. Maybe tonight you'd just like a bucket of cold water and Akane's pillow, huh?"

She made the comment in hopes of inciting some sort of defensive response from him, so that she could judge just how deep this problem was. Though a small spark came up in Ryoga's eyes, it definitely wasn't the reaction she had come to expect from him. "Very funny, Ranma," Ryoga replied.

({ No, not very funny at all. What is wrong with you, Hibiki? )}

Ranma patted his arm, giving him a mild smile. "Let's go. The worst is over, pal."

They wandered up the front walk side by side, moving in a casual manner. When she looked up, Ranma was startled to notice a shadow flickering in one of the windows, shaped like the indistinct outline of an older woman. There was other movement as well, further back in the light from the house. Ranma felt her stomach sink. She had intended to simply say good night to Ryoga and slip through the door, but it appeared they had an audience, and she realized that she should have expected that. A mild panic fluttered in her chest. Though she would have to say that the date was a success for the most part, things -had- gone wrong tonight, things that attracted attention. Ryoga's initial refusal to dance with her came immediately to mind. And their very un-couple-like behavior in the park. Oh man, if such things got back to Nodoka via her spy, then Ranma's cover could become suspect, and his honor, as well as his very life, would be in jeopardy. Ranma knew that she had to do something that would cinch the drama she had played out tonight, something that would satisfy her Mother that Ranko Tendo was doing just fine with her current boyfriend and didn't need to be fixed up with a strange guy, or cultivated into the perfect girl.

Swiftly, Ranma turned to Ryoga, grabbing him by the front of the shirt and yanking him closer. "Kiss me!" she hissed in an urgent whisper.

He was shaken out of his bleariness immediately and horror swept across his features. "Wha - - ? W - what . . . !"

"Shut up, you idiot, and give me a goodnight kiss!" Ranma hopped up, lacing her arms around his neck and pulling him down to her level so that she could press their lips together. It was nothing more than that, just a meeting of their mouths, but deep in the very core of her being, the boy that she actually was rebelled, screaming out mentally about how wrong, wrong, VERY wrong this was! She felt Ryoga go rigid, as if he had just been turned to stone, and a small whine of nervous misery escaped his throat. His body temperature soared immediately fueled by a combination of anger, confusion, and embarrassment. Ranma empathized, she really did, but stayed in the lip-lock with him for as long as she could stand it, ready to break it off when she felt their audience had seen enough to be convinced. She could almost hear Ryoga's frantic heart beat and could feel him straining to be away from her, but she held him fast. Near panic filtered into his aura, and she felt it plainly. It prompted her to pray to whatever gods there were that he wouldn't over-react, that he wouldn't attack her or scream out some nonsense about honor and saving his first kiss for the woman he married. ({ Oh man, please Ryoga, keep your head! Don't do anything to screw this up! })

To her extreme shock, she realized that she wasn't pulling out of the kiss as she intended, that Ryoga's struggles had stopped and he had his arms up, wrapping them around her waist and making sure that she stayed close. Her eyes flew open in surprise and she locked her gaze with his for a long moment. There was something close to pain and terror reflected in his expression, and Ranma felt her heart freeze as she saw it. What the hell? He broke the kiss for a moment, drawing in a breath of the evening air, then bent down and renewed the kiss, pressing his mouth firmly against hers, gripping her crushingly. Ranma's entire body jerked with surprise, and a slow gentle warmth spread throughout her. Amazed that she wasn't protesting, she tightened her hold around his neck and returned the kiss with the same passion he was giving her. Closing his crushed velvet eyes, Ryoga forced her mouth open and ran his tongue over hers, pushing against her so tightly that their teeth ground together. This time, it was Ranma who made the soft sound, astounded at how different this kiss felt from the first, now Ryoga's mouth was warm and inviting, and his tongue playing with hers felt odd and strangely exciting at the same time. His insistence was almost desperate in intensity, and caused a flare of heat to spring up within Ranma's stomach. When she drew in a breath, her nose was filled with his musky outdoor scent, and she realized that each of her joints felt as if they had been turned to jelly. Ryoga's arms around her waist were her single means of support.

({ This is wrong! Oh, but it is SO wrong! }) Ranma's true form shrieked at him. ({ I'm a GUY! I should not be enjoying this! And this is RYOGA who's kissing me! He's my rival, I've known him since we were kids! Agh! I should kill him for even daring to . . . but I started it . . . but he didn't have to . . . damn it all, it feels so good . . . })

There was a soft sound, then a flood of light as the front door was opened. Ryoga jerked backwards, breaking away from Ranma as if he had just been burned by the unexpected illumination. He wheezed incoherently, turning red, just as Ranma felt herself flush hotly. She whirled to find Nodoka standing in the doorway, a rather displeased scowl on her face. Akane was peering out around her, and further back, Kasumi stood nursing a soft expression of mild surprise.

Ranma groaned inwardly. Her stomach sinking into the remains of the warm rush Ryoga had ignited, she looked back up at him, at the mortification that crept across his features as the reality of what had just happened dawned on him. He looked like he wished the ground would open up and swallow him, that lightning would strike him, that the world would somehow end right now before he was forced to face what he had done. Ranma could only stare at him for a long moment, at a complete loss as to what she could say to him now that they had . . . oh lord . . . She suddenly had the wild urge to hug him tightly, make all of this go away for him, to try and smooth out the embarrassment and shock, somehow. But she couldn't do that. She was a GUY, damn it! A guy! And her mother was there, eying them speculatively, ready to find fault in their act. Ranma felt paranoia creeping in on him. What was he suppose to do now?! What . . . ?

Ryoga moved first, looking haunted and ready to flee. He didn't face the women in the doorway, but turned away from them, presenting Ranma with his profile. Face lowered, he closed his eyes with what looked like anguish, and his hands tightened into fists. His body grew so tight that he nearly vibrated. Grinding his teeth together, the Lost Boy looked back at Ranma, who was startled by his intense expression. Light from the house caught the shine of crystalline tears which stood in his eyes.

({ Oh man! He's crying! Damn it all! })

"I'm sorry," Ryoga breathed, leveling his words so that only Ranma could hear them. With a choked noise, he tore away, running back down the front walk and out onto the street. Quickly swallowed up by the darkness of the evening, he was gone before Ranma could call after him. His name died unuttered on her tongue.

"Hmmm," Nodoka broke the heavy silence that followed, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Well, I'm glad to see you home before I left for the evening, Ranko," she said lowly. "Did you have a nice time?"

Ranma blinked, and realized that she was silently gulping for air. Swallowing down the hard lump in her throat, she composed herself and turned to face her mother with a weak smile. "Yeah we did, Aunt Saotome. Thanks for paying for dinner."

"It was my pleasure, dear. Your young man was rather rude, though. He left before thanking me himself, and I can't say that I approve of him kissing you like that out in the open where the neighbors could see. That sort of thing is bad for your reputation, Ranko."

"Ranko and Ryoga have known each other for years, Aunt Saotome," Akane piped up, her large brown eyes twinkling at Ranma in amusement. "Everyone knows how they feel about each other."

Akane's good-natured tone was completely unexpected. Ranma stared at her, then frowned.

"Still, its not very seemly," Nodoka clearly disapproved. She came down the front walk, carrying herself with her usual elegant poise, ever-present katana wrapped and cradled in her arms. To Ranma, that deadly package was like a shining beacon, illuminating his dishonor and subterfuge. She looked down, not willing to meet her mother's eyes, least Nodoka recognize her son within the girl.

The older woman paused for a moment beside Ranma. "I'm glad you had a nice time, dear. I must be going now, but I'll see you girls later."

"Good night, Mrs. Saotome," Kasumi called pleasantly with a warm wave. "We very much enjoyed your company this evening."

"Yes," Akane nodded with a smile she directed at Ranma. "Come back anytime!"

Ranma was relieved to get into the house and close the door behind her. She didn't speak to anyone, or pause for even a moment, but tore up the stairs, heading for the bath. Akane followed, close on her heels, giggling merrily. While Ranma aggressively attacked the tub, wrenching on the hot water, Akane slid the door shut and locked it. Scowling at the intrusion, Ranma pointedly moved a screen into place so that she could shed the kimono. "What do you want, Akane?" she grumbled. "Could I have a little privacy, please?"

"Not until I hear every detail of what happened tonight, Ranma," Akane demanded, smiling eagerly.

"What? Why?" Ranma tossed the kimono over the screen at her and climbed into the tub. Sinking into the slightly scalding depths of the water, she felt herself make the welcome transformation back into his true male form, and closed his eyes tightly, laying his head back. Much better. Damn, but everything felt much better when he was a guy. In the warm steaminess of the bath, with the soft lights shining down on him and the smell of soap in his nose, he could almost forget what had just happened between he and Ryoga out on the front walk. Almost forget the Lost Boy's warm mouth and his rugged scent. Almost forget the light of terror in his eyes. Almost. Not quite. {( Stay above it, Ranma! )}

Akane wasn't about to let him forget, anyway. She set the kimono aside and sat cross-legged beside the screen. "Come on, Ranma. I know this had to have been a miserable night for you. You were with Ryoga, afterall. I can't imagine he was the greatest date."

Irritation flickered through him, and Ranma was surprised by a need to defend the Lost Boy. "He was fine, Akane. He behaved himself and went along with the ruse pretty well. And he's a good dancer." Ranma winced as soon as the words were out of his mouth, knowing instinctively that they were a mistake.

"You -danced- with him?" Akane asked gleefully.

Ranma sank a little deeper into the water. "Well, Mom sent one of her friends to spy on us. She was sitting at a table by the dance floor and I wanted to scope her out. We only danced because it seemed like the easiest way to get closer," he explained rapidly.

"I'll bet Ryoga loved that," the dark-haired girl chuckled, pressing a hand to her mouth to suppress greater laughter at the mental image she cooked up of the two rivals dancing together. "I can't believe he's a good dancer. He seems like such a klutz sometimes."

"Ryoga ain't a klutz. He's a martial artist, and martial artists ain't klutzes," Ranma argued with annoyance.

"Well, I didn't mean it quite like that. He's a nice guy, you know? But he has such a tendency to overact to everything, I really surprised that you were able to get him to dance with you. It seems like he'd consider that an offense to his honor, or something."

Ranma sighed heavily and nabbed the soap from its dish. "Ryoga can always be counted on to help out, and that's what he did. There's a lot of honor in that."

"Yeah, but to kiss you! I think that went way beyond the call of duty," Akane grinned.

"Hey!"

She laughed lightly. "Oh Ranma. I'm just teasing you. But how did you convince him to do it? It looked very realistic. Either he's a better friend than I thought or you have something pretty serious on him that you were able to black-mail him with."

"Akane!" Ranma blushed hotly. Better friend than she thought? What the hell was that suppose to mean?! ({ Oh man, Ryoga . . . why did that happen? It was suppose to be just a ruse. Why did you kiss me back and why the hell didn't I stop you? This just doesn't make any sense! Him acting all weird and then this? What is going on? })

Even in the hot water, Ranma felt himself flush as he thought once more of the kiss he and Ryoga had shared. He hated to admit it, but it had felt so good, and when they were locked together like that, with Ryoga trembling violently and Ranma on the verge of weak collapse, Ranma had wanted it to never end. That was WRONG! He knew it, and he had sensed that Ryoga knew it. Forcing the image of Ryoga's haunted expression out of his mind, Ranma determinedly continued his bath.

There was a soft knock at the door. Still chuckling, Akane reached over and turned the lock. Kasumi peeked her head in. If she disapproved of her little sister being in the bath while Ranma was using it, she didn't let it show. "Ranma?" she called softly over the screen. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but when will Ryoga-kun be returning your clothes?" Absently, she knelt down and picked up the discarded kimono.

Ranma busily scrubbed at himself with the soap and a loofah. "I told him to come over the back wall and that he could spend the night. Is that okay?"

"Certainly, and I thought you might have, but he hasn't arrived yet. I asked Nabiki to walk around the wall outside, but she didn't see him."

"Aw crud," Ranma groaned. Had the idiot gone and gotten himself lost again? How hard was it to follow a damned wall? It figures that Ryoga would go wandering off just when Ranma wanted to talk to him. ({ That's probably why he wandered off, stupid. }) Ranma shook his head, dismissing that thought almost immediately. ({ No, he wandered off because he was upset, and when Ryoga is upset he forgets about everything and doesn't pay attention. And . . . he was very upset tonight. }) Worry began to filter into Ranma.

"He'll be alright," Akane said, sounding unconcerned. "Afterall, getting lost is what he does best. I doubt you'll see that nice shirt of yours again in wearable condition, though. He seems pretty hard on clothes."

"I can make Ranma another one," Kasumi assured with a sweet smile. "And come to think of it, I could make Ryoga a few new things while I'm at it. The clothes he has are pretty worn. I thought he was about the same size as you, Ranma, but it looks like he's lost some weight."

Leave it to Kasumi to notice something like that. Her mention of it brought Ranma's earlier concerns back to mind. Irritable and tired, wanting to forget about it, Ranma made a non-committal sound and submerged himself to rinse the soap off. When he resurfaced, Kasumi was shooing Akane out so that the young man could have some time to himself to finish his bath. He was grateful to Kasumi, but didn't stay in the water for too much longer. It was quickly cooling off and he was too tense to relax anyway.

Wrapping a towel around himself, Ranma slipped down the hallway to the guestroom that he shared with his father. As usual, Genma's giant panda form lay on snoring raucously on one of the two low futons. Ranma shot him a disgusted look, quickly pulled on the shorts and undershirt that he normally wore when sleeping, and redid his braid, replacing the dragon whisker. However, as much as he had been looking forward to climbing into bed earlier, now he was too uptight to even think about turning in for the night. He flicked off the light and sat by the window, resting his chin in his hand, and staring out at the night, his dark blue eyes catching the low lantern lights from the back yard below, and the glow of the autumn moonlight.

He could feel the drop in temperature through the glass of the window, and hoped that Ryoga would be alright out in the cold during the night. He tried to tell himself that Ryoga was an old hand at roughing it, that a little chilly air would be nothing to the Lost Boy, but he didn't believe himself. Even the most experienced outdoors man could get caught unawares if he was distracted, and Ryoga was certainly distracted tonight.

({ Why? }) Ranma wondered to himself, leaning the side of his head against the cool surface of the glass. ({ Ryoga, what is wrong with you? Why are you acting so strange and why . . . why did you kiss me? })

A shadow in the yard caught his eye. He looked quickly, but it was gone before he was able to get a good look at it. It was probably nothing anyway. One of the neighbors had a cat, a large mean-tempered grey creature that Ranma always dreaded running into. The fluffy monster was fascinated by the koi in the Tendo's pond, and often came into the yard at night when out prowling. The flickering shadow had probably belonged to that beast. Ranma sighed and leaned against the window again, shutting his eyes.

********************************

For once in his life, Ryoga Hibiki knew exactly where he was.

With his back pressed against the wall of a neighboring house, Ryoga sat with his arms wrapped around his stomach and his knees drawn up, peering through the evening darkness at the Tendo residence, which was still warmly lit and looked as inviting as always. Tears ran freely down his cheeks, and he didn't bother to brush them away or try to stop them. He had been crying a lot lately, and he was almost getting used to it. The tears, however, were inconsequential compared to the sharp pain of shame and misery that was buried deep in his gut.

{( -Idiot-! )} he cursed himself inwardly, lowering his head until his brow rested on his knees. His entire body trembled as he fought, unsuccessfully, to get himself back under control. {( What was I doing?! I -kissed- Ranma! How could I be so stupid, so thoughtless?! I've already ruined myself, damn it all! I can't ruin Ranma too! Fool! Moron! I should have never come back here!! )}

He glanced up as the front door of the house opened and Nabiki emerged. She moved slowly, obviously searching for something, down the front walk and around the wall of the property. Ryoga remembered that Ranma had told him to hop over into the garden. Perhaps they were wondering why he hadn't arrived yet? No, it was inconceivable that anyone would actually be concerned enough to look for him. Ranma was undoubtedly ready to kill him, furious at the violation to his person, and almost no one else in the house gave a damn about Ryoga. There had to be some other reason for Nabiki to be out. He watched until she came entirely around the property. Pausing for a moment at the door, she took a quick look at the street in front of the residence. Ryoga had chosen his hiding place well, however. He was low in a shadow behind a mailbox and unless someone was really seriously looking, which Nabiki wasn't, then it wasn't likely that he would be seen. Still, he breathed a sigh of relief when she disappeared into the house.

There was no way he could ever set foot in the Tendo home again. He had been really pushing it when he showed up this morning, he knew, but he missed everyone so much that he couldn't resist hopping over the wall upon finding himself in the familiar neighborhood. It was hard to pretend that nothing had changed, that he was still the same person that he had been the last time they saw him, especially when he no longer felt the same inside, but he had somehow managed to keep up appearances, at least until the stupid date Ranma dragged him on. Ryoga sighed chokingly. As usual Kasumi was so sweet, immediately inviting him for breakfast, fussing over him like the mother he never saw. She was always ready to make him feel at home. Akane had looked as pretty as Ryoga had come to expect, with that bright little smile that he so loved . . . no . . . Ryoga shook his head. He would not think about Akane. That was just setting himself up for greater pain.

And Ranma . . .

Ryoga squeezed his eyes shut. As the hurt threatened to swell up and overcome him, he found a center of strength and denial within himself and forced it all back down into his gut. He would not deal with this, he -could not- deal with this. The only thing he could do was leave, get as far away from Nerima as he possibly could and get himself so damn lost that he would never find his way back. Ever. Oh, the thought hurt so much! Sobbing, Ryoga hugged himself tightly, digging his fingers painfully into his rib cage. His parents . . . Akane, Ukyo, Kasumi . . . Ranma . . . Ranma . . .

No! He would burden none of them with his worthless disgraceful presence. Tears still wet on his face, Ryoga looked up, grinding his teeth in miserable determination. He watched the Tendo residence keenly, waiting for all of the lights to be put out. One by one, they were extinguished, the last remaining being that of the Tendo's guest bedroom.

{( Why is he still up? Is he thinking about what I did? Is he hating me? I almost wish he would come out here and kill me. Everything would be so much simpler. )}

Even after the light went out, Ryoga still waited, crying silently. It was quite some time before he got the nerve together to stand and slip towards the house. Drawing on all of his training, being as silent as he could, he hopped over the wall and slunk into the garden to retrieve his pack and belongings from where he had left it secured in the shrubs. He stuck close to the shadows and made little noise, not wanting to wake any of the house's inhabitants. He did not want to face anyone, especially not Ranma. Especially not now. Coming back here had been a very big mistake.

As he slipped away into the night, Ryoga looked back once, etching the shadowy picture of the house into his memory. The Tendo residence had been more of a home to him than his own family's dwelling had ever seemed. It hurt to leave it, and the people who lived there, behind.

But then, everything hurt now.

~Casualties of Honor~
Chapter Three - Journey's Beginning

Ranma Saotome told himself that he wasn't looking for Ryoga.

He was up before the sun that morning, slipping out of the Tendo residence to seek the cold autumn air of the grey hours before dawn. The young black-haired man followed a deceptively leisurely course through the neighborhood, taking to the fence tops, hands in the deep pockets of his black pants. As he strolled, he paid little attention to his surroundings, his stormy blue eyes unfocused and thoughtful. Despite his preoccupation, his feet seemed to know where he was going. And though he reminded himself repeatedly that he -wasn't- looking for Ryoga, he really could think of no other reason why he should be out so early, when the breeze was still stiff and carrying the scents of the night. To the east, the sky was just starting to lighten, and the dark blue color seemed to match his mood exactly. His light steps over the top of various fences belied the heavy thoughts in his head.

He still wasn't completely sure how things had gone so wrong, but they had, and in a big way. He had spent a restless night, plagued by half-waking memories of Ryoga's mouth on his and the feel of the Lost Boy's arms around him. His dreams had taken things several steps further, into erotic realms that were at once embarrassing and stimulating, but throughout it all, the underlying image of Ryoga's haunted look remained with him.

But . . . but Ranma wasn't out looking for Ryoga now. He was just out walking, enjoying the morning air, thinking. If he happened to run into the other young man . . . well, it wouldn't hurt to make sure he was all right. Though, knowing Ryoga, there was no way to tell where he would be by now. It was certainly doubtful that he had managed to make it home in one night.

Ranma sighed again and looked up to see where he was. He had wandered into a newer section of the neighborhood it seemed, where construction was underway. The skeletal structures of half-formed buildings gleamed in the light of the rising sun, casting strange shadows in the dirt. Open holes, ready for foundations gaped like hungry mouths, looking for the unwary to fall in. Dinosaurian equipment waited for the morning work crew to arrive, yellow painted surfaces sporting a light coating of dew. Ranma walked along one of the construction fences, thoughtfully taking in the quiet yards and future homes.

Future? What sort of future lay ahead for him? Ranma was acutely aware of his obligations to family honor and his father's wishes, but despite all of that, he really had no desire to marry. Would he ever be able to attain his own satisfaction, or was he really chained to his father's pact with Soun Tendo? Once again letting his feet lead him, Ranma drifted back into thought, wondering about the direction his life was taking.

How much longer could he continue to hide the truth of his Jusenkyo curse from his mother? And all this nonsense with his various iinazuke? When was that going to end? Ranma supposed that on some level he had grown comfortable with the status quo, but last night's unsettling date simply drove home a suspicion that he had been harboring for quite some time. He had been avoiding too much for far too long. It was time that certain situations came to an end. Ranma could not go on carrying multiple iinazuke and various hopefuls like this, he had to make a decision and stand up to it. It wasn't going to be easy for any of them, but they were almost adults and it was time that they all faced the mess they were in.

Even though he plastered an I-don't-care attitude on the surface of his personality, deep down Ranma didn't want to hurt anyone. But he also couldn't continue to deny the plain and simple truth: he didn't want any of his iinazuke. He didn't really know why, but he never had. And he wanted to be rid of them all, to loosen the weight of impending responsibility that seemed to hang around his neck like a noose. He didn't need to be saddled with this kind of angst, and he craved an end to it. A selfish decision? Perhaps, but Ranma was sick of the war, tired of the endless arguments and weary of continuing to defend himself against repeated rivals. Especially a certain rival.

He was firm in his conviction, but not quite as resolute when it came to actually following up on his decision. How could he look into Shampoo's deep purple eyes and break the news to her? Where would he find the strength to face Ukyo, his friend since early childhood, and strip away the final hope of regaining her lost honor? He was loathe to confront even Kodachi, as crazy as she was on occasion, with the news of his decision. And Akane . . . well, Akane came with the added baggage of the dojo and father's agreement with Tendo-san.

Damn it all! Ranma had faced some of the most impossible odds, some of the most fearsome enemies, all with a cocky smile on his face and a catchy tune in his head. Why did the thought of confronting a group of girls and two old men terrify him so much? Or was it actually his mother's katana that scared him?

The rising sun caught a glint of metal from the construction yards just right, flashing into Ranma's eyes. He looked up, squinting slightly and shielding his vision with one hand. According to a nearby sign, the wall he was balancing on surrounded the site of a future office building. There were already large holes scarring the earth for the foundation, and cementing machines were in place, waiting for the crews to arrive. In the midst of it all, Ranma was startled to recognize a small battered-looking dome tent, pitched right at the edge of one of the holes. He blinked several times, hunkering down and resting his elbows casually across his knees.

({ Well, what do you know? }) he mused to himself. ({ That's definitely Ryoga's tent. Now how do you suppose he got in there? Idiot. He was probably wandering around last night until it was too dark to see. He's lucky he didn't fall into that hole and break his neck. I'd better go make sure the jerk is all right. })

Ranma hopped down into the construction yard and approached the tent, which was still sealed up securely against the cool autumn air of the waning night. He stopped just outside and stood with his right hand balled on his hip. "Hey Ryoga!" he called, putting just the right amount of playful scorn in his voice that he hoped would put the Lost Boy, and himself, at ease. "You in there? You didn't make it very far last night. Did you get lost again, P-Chan?"

No answer came from within. Ranma frowned and felt slightly uneasy. Ryoga had been pretty upset last night. Crying jags and manic depression were not unusual for the Lost Boy. But, he wouldn't have done something stupid . . . would he? After all, it was just one kiss . . . but Ryoga was always so damn emotional . . .

"Ryoga?" Inexplicably worried, Ranma stepped forward, bending down and quietly unzipping the front flap of the tent. He bent to one knee and lifted the material out of the way so that he could peer inside.

Ryoga lay curled up in his sleeping bag on his side, eyes shut softly in sleep. His breathing was slow, steady and just barely audible. Ranma was unexpectedly struck by how young his rival looked when he was unguarded in such a way, his face smoothed out of its usual scowl and hair tousled over his eyes and nose in a haphazard manner. Beneath the shadow of his bangs, however, dried tear stains marred his cheek. He had his arms wrapped around himself in a gesture of protection and the need for comfort. Ranma felt his stomach twist in response and crawled into the tent, seating himself cross-legged beside the sleeping young man.

"Aw, Ryoga," Ranma whispered, a soft compassion in his tone. "I'm sorry for dragging you into my mess. You don't deserve that kind of angst."

He found himself reaching out to brush a lock of dark hair from Ryoga's closed eyes and pressed his lips tightly together as he studied the line of Ryoga's forehead and nose. The young man had a strong face, but it was softened by a vulnerability that Ranma had never exactly taken the time to notice before. Strange, but he could not recall ever seeing Ryoga look so young and open.

Well, that wasn't exactly true. Ranma gazed down at Ryoga. ({ When we went to school together, he looked like this a lot. He seemed lighter, and he used to smile now and then. I liked it when he smiled. But now, I can't remember the last time I saw Ryoga smile, I mean really smile, not that maniacal grin he gets sometimes, but like he used to whenever he was happy. })

Ranma shook his head. There was no point in dwelling on thoughts like that. Things had changed a lot between them since they'd gone to school together, and it was too bad, because Ranma had really enjoyed Ryoga's friendship. Now he was just another rival . . . or he had been until last night. Ranma continued to gently stroke the Lost Boy's soft hair, losing himself in thought. Though Ryoga had always been dark and angry, it was his quieter moods that had originally drawn Ranma into their friendship. Often confused and uncomfortable with socializing or doing the normal things other kids did, Ryoga had been a loner, not very well liked, and a rather poor student. Since his own life was usually so transient and unstable, Ranma could empathize with him, and didn't even mind his temper because on some level he knew that Ryoga only lashed out in response to fear or confusion. The time they had spent together was a fond memory for Ranma, though one he hadn't thought of in years.

He sighed softly and was a little surprised when he refocused his gaze and saw that he was running a finger down the smooth surface of Ryoga's cheek.

Ranma jerked his hand away sharply. What on earth was he doing?!

Ryoga stirred fitfully, his brows creasing into a more familiar scowl, and he drew in a long breath, the tip of one fang showing as he opened his mouth. Slowly rolling onto his back, he pushed with annoyance at the sleeping bag. "Hmmm - wha - ?" he muttered.

Ranma froze. Even though he had originally intended to wake Ryoga, it now suddenly seemed absolutely imperative that he not be caught in this tent! Grinding his teeth together silently, Ranma held himself perfectly still, slowing his breathing and waiting for Ryoga to settle back into deeper sleep. ({ Please don't wake up, Ryoga! }) Ranma pleaded mentally. ({ You would pitch a major fit if you woke up to find me here, and I don't want that. })

After what seemed like several eternities, Ryoga's scowl softened again and his head turned to one side. Ranma thanked the fates that Ryoga was a heavy sleeper, and waited for a few more minutes, carefully watching the rise and fall of the young man's chest, anxious for the rhythm to even itself out. As he waited, Ranma noticed that Ryoga now lay with his right hand palm up. His skin was tough from roughing-it so much, and it was obvious that his grip was well-developed as a result of his training, but that was not what caught Ranma's eye. It was a thin but highly visible scar, a small slash mark which Ranma knew he himself had made.

Blinking, Ranma looked at the palm of his own right hand. His scar was barely discernible, but he smiled slightly as the memory of two young impressionable boys becoming blood brothers after seeing it done in an American western came back to him for the first time in years. It was difficult to remember something like that when he seemed to be constantly fighting the one he had sworn the oath with.

A soft wave of guilt rose in Ranma's stomach, and he looked down as Ryoga reflexively clenched his hand in his sleep. He remembered Ryoga's shadowed look of nervous anticipation as they sat together in a darkened room of the Hibiki residence and used one of the Lost Boy's hunting knives to make the cuts on their palms. They had done it because Ryoga was always getting lost, Ranma's father was constantly dragging his son off on training journeys, and the two boys had wanted to be together forever, no matter how far apart they were. It felt so good to have a friend like that in the midst of the turmoil of their young lives. But as they got a little older, things changed. Since then, he had berated Ryoga, teased him, fought with him, knocked him into a cursed spring . . . why? Why had he done all that?

Sighing softly to himself, Ranma silently retreated out of the tent, careful that he did not further disturb its sleeping occupant.

In a few moments, he was perched on the construction wall once again, this time positioned behind a silently waiting backhoe. He was closer to the tent then he had been earlier and had a good view of it, but he hoped that the machinery would camouflage him if Ryoga came out while he was still there. Watching the tent with dark blue eyes, Ranma wondered what was with him. Why didn't he just go back to the Tendo Dojo and try to put all of this behind him, the same way he had shoved aside the friendship he and Ryoga had once shared? When it was so much easier to just pretend he didn't give a damn, why was he sitting out here on this wall, watching Ryoga's tent, and what the hell had he been thinking, touching Ryoga like some kinda . . . well . . . ?

Ranma had never even considered anything like that . . . okay, that was a lie . . . actually he -had-. After all, as much as he hated to admit it, his girl-half -was- female, and there were times when she found herself attracted to or thinking hentai thoughts about some boys that she encountered. But until last night, Ranma had never had those types of thoughts when he was a guy and certainly not about Ryoga! Ryoga was a rival, a buddy, a . . . a . . .

Ranma swallowed down a hard mouthful of air, lowering his head for a moment. When he looked up again, he was startled to find that Ryoga had emerged from the tent.

The sun was now just above the horizon, and the filter of the atmosphere filled the sky overhead with the splashed colors of morning. It seemed as if each of those colors somehow found Ryoga as he stepped out to face the day, highlighting the curves of his slim muscles lowly. The slightly chill autumn breeze ruffled his dark hair, which was already tousled from sleep. He looked around, obviously rather surprised to find himself in a construction yard when he had undoubtedly expected to be someplace else. Ranma saw him take note of his proximity to the foundation hole with a disapproving scowl on his face.

Looking rather annoyed, Ryoga rubbed at the back of his head and then took up a position in front of the tent directly in Ranma's line of sight. The unseen spy was able to pick out that the undershirt Ryoga wore was loose around his chest and the shorts he wore also seemed a trifle large, confirming Ranma's suspicions that the young man had lost weight. Normally, the Lost Boy was built heavier than Ranma, sturdier and physically much stronger, though as Kasumi had observed, the two young men were about the same size. It was his speed that gave Ranma the edge over Ryoga, that and his even temper. If Ryoga didn't fly off the handle so easily, he would have been a much more formidable opponent.

Ranma bit his lip as he carefully studied the muscles visible beneath the hang of Ryoga's undershirt. The young man was obviously keeping up with his training, for he was wiry and firm, but his muscles were not as well-sculpted as they should have been. Even in what looked to be poor health, however, his strength was obvious in the solid play of his muscles as he stretched long and slow, slipping easily into a smooth series of katas.

Ranma watched, fascinated. He and Ryoga regularly sparred or fought, but Ranma had never before taken the time to actually watch the other young man at their sport. Nor did Ryoga often take things slow and easy, so this was a rather rare opportunity to observe Ryoga's steady movements and strength, to watch the practiced and expert way he executed the various positions of the katas. Each gesture was precise and every step was placed with purposeful assurance. Ranma was impressed, and as he continued to watch, he felt his pulse quickening. He could see the power and energy that lived just beneath the surface of Ryoga's skin, and it was indeed a captivating sight. Oh brother . . . where were these thoughts coming from? Why did watching Ryoga seem to raise his body temperature much higher than could be accounted for by the shine of the morning autumn sun? Why did his mouth feel so dry?

He was disappointed when Ryoga finished his exercise and disappeared back into the tent to dress and prepare to break camp. Ranma slipped deep into thought as he watched the other man go through the motions of pulling down the tent and rolling his things into his ever-present pack. ({ Ryoga . . . I've never thought about anything like this before, but . . . is this why I don't want to marry any of my iinazuke? Because I'm . . . I'm . . . }) He balked at the very idea. ({ I can't be ga - that way. I mean, when Mikado kissed me, I was just about ready to rip him open. And Kuno! Cripes, I'm not even going to think about that. But when it comes to Ryoga . . . oh brother . . . })

It seemed like too simple of an answer, and one that he was not entirely comfortable with. He was a martial artist afterall, a man! He could not be attracted to another man, it was a ridiculous notion. Yet, as he followed Ryoga through the Tokyo streets, keeping his distance so that the Lost Boy wouldn't notice his presence, the notion took on more realistic properties. Though Ranma had been occasionally attracted to the various women in his life, he found the idea of deepening a relationship with any of them rather distasteful. He wondered briefly if that was an influence of his girl-half, who would be sure to flee from any sort of lesbian friendship. But . . . but wouldn't a gay relationship be just as undesirable? As he watched Ryoga puzzle his way through the streets, Ranma couldn't decide.

({ Have I always been attracted to Ryoga and just never realized it? Swiping his bread all the time when we were younger, all the teasing I've subjected him to because of P-chan, the fights and the bickering? Man, sometimes I think I would rather fight with Ryoga than anyone else. I gotta admit, he's my match, but is there something more here? }) Ranma wondered, pausing behind a stand-up store sign while Ryoga asked someone for directions.

As the morning wore on, more and more people were emerging, opening up businesses and filling the streets. It was weekend, and with all of the people around even Ranma, who had a highly developed sense of direction, was feeling slightly disoriented. He could imagine that it was a hundred times more difficult for Ryoga. Where was he going, anyway? If he was trying to leave town as he often did when he was upset, then he was definitely heading the wrong way. He was going to end up at the Tokyo Tower if he kept in this direction. Ranma sighed softly to himself, glittering eyes watching Ryoga intently. Even confused as he was, Ryoga seemed decidedly attractive, with the same strange sense of vulnerability that he exhibited while sleeping. On the occasions when he would turn to look around and Ranma caught sight of his face, he could plainly see the sadness and depression reflected in Ryoga's large dark eyes, and he felt his insides twist in response. It occurred to him that he didn't like to see Ryoga hurting. It was like standing by and watching someone beat a puppy.

({ The jerk, }) Ranma frowned, trying to install some normalcy into his train of thought. ({ I'd better make sure he don't run into trouble, or get too lost. })

Ranma looked around and pinpointed his location easily. They were actually pretty close to familiar territory. Springing up to the top of a nearby wall, Ranma took to the rooftops, hopping quickly from building to building in an effort to get ahead of Ryoga. He anticipated where the other young man would be and crouched on the corner of a pagoda-shaped roof to wait for him, idly watching the other pedestrians roam by beneath him.

After several minutes had passed, Ranma realized that Ryoga was not going to come the way he thought, so took off over the roofs again, staying close to the edge so that he could see down into the streets. It was some time before he located his quarry again, and by that time he was starting to get rather frustrated and hungry. He had left the Tendo Dojo long before breakfast, afterall. He found Ryoga wandering up a small side street, heading in a completely new direction. ({ That idiot, }) Ranma grumbled to himself uncharitably. ({ With his lousy sense of direction, it's a wonder that we -ever- see him. }) With a soft growl, Ranma sprinted on ahead, this time keeping an eye on the other young man's progress.

In a few minutes, Ranma was startled to realize that he was on the roof of Ucchan's restaurant. Even just thinking about his old friend's tasty okonomiyaki made his stomach growl greedily. But he couldn't go eat now, he had to keep an eye on Ryoga.

({ Keep an eye on Ryoga? }) Ranma groaned to himself. ({ Who the heck am I trying to kid? Ryoga don't need me to look out for him. I'm following him because I want to watch - no, because we need to talk. I can't just blow this one off like I always do. Sooner or later I am going to have to find the nerve to face him about last night. That other stuff . . . well, that's all gonna have to wait until I can deal with it myself before I even dare say something to him about it! })

Ryoga paused beneath him, hands wrapped around the straps of his pack, gazing at the front of the building. At first he looked angry, undoubtedly dismayed to find himself in familiar territory when he was apparently trying to leave town. Then the Lost Boy's expression abruptly changed. He seemed to be deliberating, unsure. He glanced around at the activity on the streets, and Ranma crouched low to avoid being spotted as Ryoga scanned upwards, contemplating the sky and the time of day. After several moments, he sighed softly and trudged into the establishment.

Ranma frowned and leaned forward to peer over the edge of the roof. The morning breeze ruffled his black hair, bringing just a hint of autumn bite with it, as Ranma wondered whether or not he should follow Ryoga in. This would be a good opportunity to corner the boy and perhaps talk sensibly to him, but Ranma didn't move. Apprehensive tension caused his nerves to sing and he swallowed hard, trying to find the courage within himself to face his rival about the kiss they had shared.

*********************************

Ukyo looked up at the sound of someone entering, turning to find Ryoga paused just inside the door, heavy pack on his back. He looked a little tired and bleary, his thick dark hair tousled from being subject to the light winds outside. Ukyo currently didn't have much of an opinion of Ryoga. As long as he didn't destroy anything and wasn't trying to kill Ranma, then she didn't mind him too much and considered him a fair-weather kind of friend. Every now and then she even thought that Ryoga was almost cute in a overly-emotional disoriented kind of way, if one liked that sort of thing. Frankly, she much preferred Ranma, but then, it seemed as if most of the females in Nerima did.

"Ryoga," Ukyo smiled brightly. "Ohayo gozaimasu, sugar. You're my first customer of the day. Come on in and sit down."

Ryoga returned her greeting, in his usual vaguely uncomfortable manner, with an expression that wasn't quite a smile. He came to the counter and shrugged off his pack, setting it aside. Taking a seat on one of the stools, he glanced up at her menu board through the thick veil of his bangs.

"Haven't seen you in quite awhile," Ukyo commented, spreading some oil out on the grill in preparation for his order.

"Been out of town."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" she smirked. "What'll it be, hon?"

Ryoga considered for a moment longer, then quietly ordered three of his usual. Ukyo raised an eyebrow at him but got to work right away.

"Three? My, our little Lost Boy has a big appetite today," she said teasingly, quickly chopping up the extra toppings she knew he liked on his okonomiyaki.

He blushed a bit at her playful tone. "W - well, one is for here. Would you mind wrapping up the other two for the road?"

"Sure thing, sugar," she nodded, and eyed him sideways as she cooked. "But, you're heading out again so soon?" He was looking a little thin, and she didn't think it was a very good idea for him to be wandering around the countryside if he wasn't feeling well. She didn't say that to him, of course, because then she would run the risk of sounding like she cared about him. But, he -was- a friend. Sort of.

Nodding, Ryoga reached down and fiddled in one of his pockets for a moment. He pulled out a slim wallet and opened it. "And I'm actually glad I wandered this way before I left town. I'd like to even up my tab. How much do I owe you?"

Ukyo blinked, pausing for a moment. "I'd have to add it up, but you know I don't expect tab payments until next month. I'm sure you'll be back by then. You might need your money if you get really lost and run out of food or something," she said it as gently as possible, not wanting to offend him. She thought she saw a brief flash of pain cross his face, but it was gone before she could confirm that it was actually there. Ukyo resisted the urge to frown.

"I don't plan on coming back, Ukyo-san," he replied, keeping his head lowered and his concentration on the wallet as he lightly fingered the bills inside it. "Uh-huh. I've heard that one before, hon," Ukyo smirked slightly, sliding his first okonomiyaki across the grill to him. "C'mon, sweetie. We both know that even if you don't want to come back, eventually you'll be so lost that you'll end up here anyway."

Ryoga grimaced and picked at one of the shrimp topping his food. "Believe what you want, Ukyo. But I'm going to do whatever I can to prevent ever setting foot in Nerima again."

This time, Ukyo did frown. Okay, Ryoga was always saying that he was leaving and never coming back. It was one of those things that she now simply expected to hear from him on a fairly regular basis, and she usually put absolutely no stock in the statement whatsoever, since eventually he always showed up again. But this time . . . this time there was something in his tone that had never been there before, something that caught her attention. She couldn't pinpoint it exactly, but it bothered her. "Alright Ryoga," she acquiesced, pausing in her cooking to get him something to drink. She set a cup of tea in front of him, leaned down and stared intently at him. "Why?"

"Uhm . . . " Ryoga was not comfortable with direct confrontations, and stuttered as he often did when feeling uneasy. "I - I have to . . . I have no - no reason to stay . . . "

Ukyo tsked in mild exasperation, straightening and going back to her cooking, retrieving her spatula. "Ryoga-kun, you do this every time things get a little rough. Now, don't be silly. Nerima is your home."

Swallowing hard, Ryoga raised his eyes to meet hers, then quickly withdrew his glance. His right fist tightened reflexively. "Home? I don't have a home, Ukyo-san."

"Sure you do," Ukyo was startled by the light of despair she had seen briefly in his eyes. She tried to ease things up a bit, switching back to a playful tone as she sauteed. "You just can't ever find it."

Ryoga seemed to neither notice or appreciate her attempt. He looked away, focusing his sight on nothing. "No, I - I don't have a home. I have a house where s - sometimes I can find my family, but most of the time its empty because none of them remember where it is any more than I do."

The okonomiyaki chef turned back towards him, her blue eyes widening with surprise. Ryoga was often bitter or angry, and he certainly did his fair share of both complaining and lamenting, but she had never heard him use that sort of tone of absolute desolate misery before. No . . . that wasn't entirely true. Once, when they were trapped on the wandering island of Togenkyo, he had fallen under a spell cast by one of their foes that made it seem as if his worst fears had been realized. Ukyo remembered that his words, "The world is a dark and lonely place," had been delivered in exactly the same tone, one of complete and utter surrender.

She wasn't sure what to say to him now, but as it was she didn't have the chance to make a reply. The sound of the little jiggling bell on the front door startled them both in the silence that followed Ryoga's words. Together they looked up to see Ranma step in.

Ukyo felt relief flood her. Ranma would know what to do about this strange mood Ryoga was in, either by cheering him up or getting him so mad that he snapped out of it. Though she didn't relish the property damages that would result from a fight between these two, she was willing to overlook it if it helped Ryoga. "Hello Ran-chan!" Ukyo beamed, raising a spatula in greeting.

Ranma nodded at her once, and then fixed his gaze on Ryoga. His dark blue eyes were shadowed and serious, and Ukyo realized that he already knew there was something wrong. Her smile faded.

Ryoga shifted away immediately. His face tightening and his eyes going alarmingly blank, he stood and pulled some of the money out of his wallet. Setting it on the counter, he glanced up at Ukyo. "Never mind the other two, Ukyo-san. I hope this is enough to cover everything."

She was startled. "What?"

He hefted his pack and slung it onto his back. Ranma quickly stepped forward. "Ryoga, man, hold up a minute," he requested, reaching out to stop the Lost Boy.

Ryoga avoided his touch, almost upsetting several tables in his haste, and skirting around him. "Leave me alone, Ranma," his voice was tight, but without the tone of threat that might have been expected from him.

"No way, buddy. I think we need to talk," Ranma tried to grab him again, nabbing him by the sleeve of his shirt and drawing him back, despite Ryoga's agitated resistance. "Sit down and finish eating. You need the food, you've lost weight."

Ryoga yanked sharply away from him, scowling darkly, but not meeting Ranma's eyes. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Nothing? Oh, that's the understatement of the century, pal, and you know it. What is wrong with you? You have been acting flaky ever since you showed up yesterday, and then last night - - "

"N - nothing happened last night!" Ryoga cut him off quickly, whirling to break for the door again. He had almost reached it, when Ranma called after him.

"Ryoga, I don't hate you."

The Lost Boy froze immediately in front of the door. He stared blankly for a long moment, then closed his eyes, lowering his head. His entire countenance seemed to lose strength and he appeared to sag under the weight of his pack. There was a very heavy silence, during which Ukyo looked from Ryoga to Ranma, wondering what in the world was going on. As much as she wanted to speak up, she stayed out of it. Obviously, something had happened between them and they needed the space to work it out if possible. An odd feeling of dread was slowly building in her stomach. This could not possibly be what it looked like . . . could it?

Ranma stepped forward slowly, placing one foot quietly in front of the other as if he were approaching a skittish wild animal. "I don't hate you," he repeated in lower pitch, his voice more soothing.

Ryoga remained still, though his hands tightened into firm fists at his side. "That's . . . " he began in a hesitant whisper. "Th - that's good to know . . . "

Carefully raising his hand, Ranma reached forward to rest it on Ryoga's right arm. It barely touched the material of the Lost boy's shirt, but he started as if he had been burned. Turning swiftly, he batted Ranma's hand away almost violently with a strange plea of, "Please, don't touch me!" Then he was fumbling with the door, yanking it open.

Hand still raised, Ranma stared after him, feeling panicked, but not quite willing to act on it. The expression on his face was one of unguarded ache as he watched Ryoga stumble out of the restaurant, amazingly not destroying anything on his way. When the door shut behind him, Ranma closed his eyes tightly. ({ Idiot! I just stood here and let him leave! I should go after him! })

"Ranma!" Ukyo called from behind the counter, echoing his thoughts. "Go after him!"

"I . . . " Ranma breathed slowly. He wanted to chase Ryoga, he really did, but was that the right thing to do? Just stepping into the restaurant had upset Ryoga enough, obviously he was quickly losing the ability to bury this thing he couldn't deal with. What if he inadvertently forced Ryoga into a meltdown? Was that what he needed, or would it just cause further damage? "I'm not sure if I should, Ucchan," he finished, hating the words even as he said them. He -wanted- to help Ryoga! He wanted to hug the boy and make all the pain, all the fear and uncertainty go away. But what if doing that just hurt him more?

"What?" she blinked, astonished. "What are you talking about? Obviously there is something seriously wrong here, and you're his friend, aren't you?" She grumbled to herself for a moment, and hopped over the grill. "I'll go get him, if you won't. He needs help."

Ranma turned to stop her. "I know he does," he assured her. "I know. You're right. I'm sorry Ucchan."

To her extreme surprise, Ranma leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on her forehead. Then, without a word, the young martial artist sprang for the door, wrenching it open and dashing out into the street. As he expected, Ryoga had already disappeared, but that didn't matter. Grinding his teeth together, Ranma jumped for the nearest rooftop and broke into a run, scanning below him for any sign of the Lost Boy.

********************************

It was mid-afternoon by the time Ranma caught up with him.

Ryoga had found his way out of town, and from his vantage point on the top of a four story building, Ranma spotted him as he wandered along one of the deep park trails that would lead up into the foothills. Crouching, Ranma rested his elbow on his knee and his chin against his fist and watched as Ryoga disappeared into the cover of the thick trees. There was an unsettled ache deep in Ranma's stomach.

He didn't move for a long time, contemplating the direction in which Ryoga had gone, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. After a time, he raised his right hand, opening his palm and gazing at the faint scar there. Then, nodding to himself as if he had just come to some sort of decision, Ranma Saotome straightened, turned, and headed back toward the Tendo Dojo.

*********************************

"Hey Pop!" Ranma yelled as he skidded down the stairs and through the living room, a traveling pack slung over his right shoulder. He was dressed in a black sweatshirt, jeans, a warm down jacket and high topped hiking shoes; clothes far more practical than those he usually wore. Running through and hopping neatly over the table in the dining room, he almost collided with Kasumi, who was setting places in preparation for dinner. "Oop, damn! Sorry Kasumi!" he yipped as he narrowly avoided upsetting her small stack of plates.

She smiled lightly. "That's all right, Ranma-kun."

"Excuse me," Ranma said absently, then turned to fix his attention on the two figures who were sitting cross-legged on the pouch off the dining room, both intent on their game of Go. "Pop, yo! Pay attention!"

The giant panda looked up at him languidly with a small grunt. Soun Tendo, master of the house and dojo, took the opportunity to move his game piece, then leaned back and eyed the board with a look of vague smug satisfaction, smoothing his black moustache with the slender fingers of his right hand.

"I'm going on a short training journey," Ranma informed his father. The panda's eyes widened. In the dining room, Kasumi paused as she set the plates in their proper places, and glanced at Ranma with a thoughtful shine in her soft brown eyes.

"Training journey?" Soun looked up with interest. "What prompted this?"

Ranma shrugged, his usual indifferent attitude firmly locked in place. "I'm getting rusty sitting around here all the time with a bunch of girls. Just thought I'd go hone my skills up in the foothills for a couple of days."

Soun sniffed importantly. "Admirable."

The over-sized lump of a panda held up a small sign, upon which were scrawled the words, \\ That's the spirit, son! \\ Genma winked his beady eyes, obviously pleased.

"Yeah, whatever." Ranma waved at them in a dismissive manner and headed back through the house. He hoped to make it out without too much fuss, but unfortunately he encountered Akane in the front hall. She eyed him and folded her arms, blocking his way to the door, a study little powerhouse in a blue skirt.

"And just where are you going?" she asked, pursing her lips in a pout that showed plainly how irritated she was that he had not informed her of his plans.

"As far away from you as I can?" Ranma suggested, realizing privately that he was not entirely joking. "Wanna get out of my way?"

Fury sprang into her dark eyes in response to his comment. "Tell me where you're going," she ordered, her tone flat, a sure indication that she was attempting to control her temper.

Ranma sighed dramatically. He didn't have time for this. "Not that its any of your business, Akane, but I'm going on a short training journey. Alright? Now get out of the way. I wanna be out of town before it gets dark."

"Training journey?" Akane tipped her head to one side, anger evaporating as quickly as it had manifested. "Now? You'll miss school. Are you trying to avoid that algebra test we have on Monday?" she smirked lightly.

Ranma rolled his eyes and walked around her, choosing to ignore her question. "I'll see you in a few days."

She watched him until he reached the door, the expression on her face wavering uncertainly. As he was about to leave, she suddenly blurted out, "Ranma, let me go with you."

He paused and looked back at her, sure that she had to be joking. "As if."

"Come on," Akane stepped forward, clasping her hands in front of her in a demur manner that Ranma knew she had practiced diligently to perfect. "I know that I could use some refreshing, plus I . . . I could keep you company."

Ranma blinked several times. What was this? Akane actually wanted to spend time with him? Great, that was all he needed right now. Well, he knew how to nip that in the bud. He hrrmphed. "If I wanted an un-cute tomboy like you along, I would have asked you," he told her simply.

That oh-so-swift anger returned and she lit up as if someone had set her on fire. "Ran-MA! I was trying to be nice - "

"Hey, first time for everything."

" - - I can't believe you! You are the rudest, most disrespectful person I have ever met! Where do you get off, being so mean all the time?!" She stomped her right foot to punctuate her words and almost appeared to be simmering, hands in fists at her sides, shoulders hunched, and a fierce expression on her round face.

"Bye, Akane," he smirked, flipping her a wave and slipping out the door.

Kasumi came up behind Akane, carrying a large hinged picnic-type basket. She didn't even seem to take note of her sister's expression of extreme outrage or the low growling noise that was coming from her throat. "Oh dear," Kasumi blinked at the front door. "Akane, did Ranma-kun just leave?"

"Yes." Akane spat the word through her teeth.

"Perhaps I can still catch him," Kasumi mused and went to the door. By the time she had it open, Ranma was just rounding the corner of the property, heading out for the street. "Oh, Ranma!" Kasumi called.

He stopped and glanced back at her, a scowl on his face until he realized that she wasn't Akane. His expression softened, and he trotted back to meet her. "What's up, Kasumi?"

"I'm glad I caught you," she smiled warmly and offered him the basket.

He accepted it, surprised by how heavy it felt once he had it in his hands. "Oof. What's this?"

"Just a little something for your journey. I didn't want you to miss dinner."

"A -little- something?" he groaned. Ranma opened the top of the basket and peered in. The pleasant smell of food wafted out at him, and he realized immediately that all he'd eaten the entire day was a sandwich he'd hastily fixed himself before packing. It was a good thing she had packed a lot, but even on his best days he wouldn't be able to eat this much. Smirking, he was about to look up and thank her when he noticed several items laying neatly beneath the carefully wrapped food. In a moment his eyes had widened in surprise and puzzlement. He glanced up at her sharply. "Kasumi . . . "

"And I'm sure you'll find a use for those," she said lightly, her dark eyes sparkling warmly. "Good luck."

Ranma stared after her as she returned to the house. Slowly, he closed the basket, biting his lower lip thoughtfully. Because she was usually so reserved and quiet, Ranma knew that most people, himself included, tended to underestimate Kasumi. In that moment, he realized what a mistake that was. Apparently, the eldest Tendo daughter was very much aware of what went on around her, and especially in her house. It was an error that he would remember never to make again. Smiling to himself, Ranma hefted the basket, turned, and headed out to the street once more.

In the window, Akane watched him until he was out of sight. Behind her, she could make out the faint sound of Kasumi's cheerful humming as her older sister returned to the kitchen. Akane's mouth slowly tightened into a heavy frown.

~ Casualties of Honor ~
Interlude - Blood Brothers

All of the lights in the living room were off, save that which came from the television. Flickering images cast odd shadows along the walls, screens and ceiling of the room, as well as across the faces of the two young boys who sat enthralled before the movie they were watching. The slightly smaller of the two, Ranma Saotome, was positioned cross-legged on the floor, a half-empty bowl of popcorn beside him which was surrounded by a few kernels that had escaped his notice. His eyes were wide and intelligent, moving quickly as he read the subtitles being splashed across the bottom of the screen. His thick black hair was pulled back into a short pigtail.

The other boy was curled on the end of the couch, chewing incessantly on his left thumbnail. His name was Ryoga Hibiki. He looked vaguely worried, dark brown eyes large and heavy as he watched the movie. His hair, much shaggier and considerably less kept than his companion's, was held back away from his eyes by a dark yellow bandana with black striping. As opposed to the smaller boy's smartly fitting gi, Ryoga's clothes looked worn and a few sizes too large for him. He seemed almost lost within them.

The two boys were alone in the house, which was not unusual. There was rarely anyone home at the Hibiki residence, save the youngest member of the family.

"That was pretty cool!" Ranma rocked forward on his knees to turn down the sound on the television as soon as the credits began to roll. He crushed a few pieces of popcorn accidently into the carpet. "Whoops," he said as he flicked away the remains. "Your mom isn't gonna be mad at the popcorn on the floor, is she?"

The other boy sighed quietly. "No. If she makes it back here before it decomposes, I'll be surprised."

Ranma looked a bit uncomfortable. Instead of commenting, he chose to change the subject back to something safer and more interesting. "Wasn't that a good movie? American westerns are the best."

"I guess," Ryoga replied doubtfully. "I didn't really understand it, though. I can't read as fast as you do and I didn't catch all of the sub-titles." He looked mildly ashamed.

He wasn't as good at anything as Ranma was, and that was something that he was pretty much used to, but it still bothered him. Ryoga actually excelled at very little. Because he attended school only when he could find it, he was a below-average student, and usually struggled in his studies. At home, he was, for all intents and purposes, a neglected child. He had learned from necessity how to take care of himself and tend to his own needs, but the almost constant isolation took its toll on his personality. He was a distant but over-emotional person, and his continual mood-swings tended to scare away any potential friends.

Except for Ranma. Ryoga knew that Ranma had originally started hanging around with him only out of pity, perhaps empathizing with the Lost Boy who never seemed to fit in. Ranma's home life wasn't exactly normal either, after all. It still surprised Ryoga that he and Ranma had evolved into close companions, and sometimes he really questioned that reality, not entirely secure with the concept of friendship.

"Well, what didn't you understand?" Ranma rose from the floor, brushing popcorn off of his knees, and flopped down on the other side of the couch. Ranma often helped Ryoga out when he was confused over school work; he was rather comfortable in the role of teacher and protector. Across the room, the television continued to flicker away unnoticed.

"All of the stuff with the horses, I guess. I didn't understand what the point of stealing them was," Ryoga replied in a low tone. Ranma may have been comfortable acting as Ryoga's guide, but Ryoga himself wasn't always as accepting of it. He didn't like to admit that he didn't understand, not wanting to seem stupid in the eyes of his one friend. "The gunfight was interesting, though, except I wasn't sure who was the good guy and who was the bad guy."

"The bad guy always wears a black hat. That's how you can tell he's bad," Ranma explained, as if it was as simple as that, still young enough to be ignorant of grey areas.

"Oh," Ryoga thought about it for a moment. "Alright, why did those two boys cut their hands like they did? I didn't understand that."

"That was the best part!" Ranma's dark blue eyes lit up and he hopped in his seat a bit, leaning towards Ryoga. "They were afraid that the horse thieves would separate them, so they took an oath that they would always be friends no matter what happened to them. They cut their hands and let their blood mingle as proof of their oath. Its called being Blood Brothers."

Ryoga slowly smiled, an expression that he didn't use often, but one that Ranma liked to see. "Blood Brothers?" The idea was appealing.

"Wanna do it?" Ranma asked eagerly.

That caught the other boy off-guard, and he shied away, shifting his gaze from Ranma almost immediately. "B - be Blood . . . Blood Brothers?" he stuttered, as was his tendency when he was nervous. "Y - you'd want to be . . . be . . . ? With me?"

"Of course. You're my best friend, aren't you? C'mon Ryoga. Pop's always dragging me off on training journeys without any warning, you get lost all of the time and, well, I want us to always be friends, no matter what happens or where we end up going. Just like the two boys in the movie. You saw how the story ended. They grew up and were forced to come face to face in a duel, but then they recognized each other at the last minute."

"After the one guy shot the other," Ryoga pointed out hesitantly.

"Well, -that- part won't happen to us!" Ranma laughed. "Please Ryoga?"

Ryoga gazed at his friend, who looked almost surreal highlighted by the bluish glow of the television. His heart beat hard in his chest. He loved Ranma so much! Ranma was the only light in his otherwise dreary existence, the only real friend he'd ever had. It was Ranma who helped him find his way to and from school everyday so that he could receive an education like everyone else. It was Ranma who was often there to keep him company when his family was gone heavens only knew where. It was Ranma who pushed and encouraged him in his martial arts training, one of the few things that even mattered to Ryoga in the least. Ryoga would do anything to keep Ranma's friendship, anything to ensure that the boy remain part of his life. He needed Ranma so badly! Even as much as he didn't like to admit his inadequacies, he wanted Ranma around to help him and guide him. Things didn't seem nearly as bleak when the other boy was with him.

Ryoga nodded and whispered, "I want us to be friends forever too . . . "

Ranma burst into a smile, jumped forward and hugged Ryoga quickly. "Alright! This will be great, Ryoga. Nothing will ever separate us, you'll see."

Secretly, Ranma was relieved. He really hated the long training journeys that his father forced him to participate in, and the childish thought that he would always have Ryoga with him was comforting. Ranma was a very smart boy, and he recognized that something as simple and physical as a blood oath wouldn't actually be able to keep them together, not really. But it was a nice thought regardless, and he knew that it would appeal to Ryoga, who spent a majority of his time alone.

The fact that the other boy shied away from his hug didn't bother Ranma at all. He knew that Ryoga was skittish and withdrawn, the result of growing up without family or attention. Ranma liked Ryoga that much more for his reserve. And he enjoyed helping the other boy as much as he could. Ranma already had wonderful dreams of growing up to found a martial arts school with his best friend. The Saotome-Hibiki Anything-Goes School of Martial Arts. This would be the first step towards making that dream become a reality.

"Your mom have knives in the kitchen?" Ranma released Ryoga from the hug quickly and bounced off the couch, filled with eager energy.

"Y - yes. Or, I have the hunting knife my uncle gave me in my room," Ryoga suggested, sliding to his feet himself.

"That's even better," Ranma agreed with a bright nod. He watched as Ryoga wandered out of the living room through one of the sliding screens that led to the other parts of the house. With a fond smile, Ranma called, "Ryoga . . . "

"I know," Ryoga reappeared, backing through the door to arrive in the living room again. "That was the dining room. I think."

"Yep. This way, silly." Ranma opened a different screen and pulled his friend down a short hallway to his room. Ranma was the one person who could call Ryoga names and escape the Lost Boy's furious and hurt retaliation.

Ranma sat on the low futon while Ryoga dug around in the large traveling pack he always had prepared and ready. Ranma was a bit surprised by the various items Ryoga dragged out as he looked for his knife. Considering that he was virtually clueless in all other respects, Ryoga's pack was remarkably well-stocked and prepared for any eventuality. There were fishing supplies, water-proof matches and tinder, an extensive first-aide kit, lots of freeze-dried foods and instant ramen, and several emergency flares, thermal blankets, a sleeping roll, a couple changes of clothes, and a tent. No wonder that pack was so heavy! Ryoga was obviously quite strong to be able to carry all that around with him, but Ranma knew that from sparring with him.

Ranma fiddled with a compass that Ryoga had pulled out. "Ryo-kun, do you even know how to use this?" he asked teasingly, holding it up.

Ryoga looked at him with a vaguely blank expression, the tip of one fang showing. He flushed lightly. "I - uh - had an orienteering class once, but I didn't really understand most of it," he admitted quietly.

"I could teach you," Ranma offered.

"I don't think it would help," Ryoga sighed, then found what he was looking for. He pulled the hunting knife out of the bottom of the pack and handed it to Ranma so that he could replace all of the other items. Ranma turned the knife over in his hands, examining it with a pleased light in his eyes.

For a basic hunting tool, it was an exceptionally well-made knife. Its blade was encased in a study leather sheath that could be hooked to a belt, and it was decorated with beaded fringe. The hilt was fashioned of steel and an ebony material of some sort, inlaid with an attractive pattern of peridot. Ranma pulled the blade from its bed, whistling softly at the flash of metal which greeted him. It was Damascus steel, forged and folded so many times that nothing short of the end of the world would break it, and the surface was scrolled with thousands of tiny intricate dark whorling lines. The back edge of the blade sported large serrations and the working edge was razor sharp. It was considerably more than Ranma had excepted.

"Wow Ryoga!" he exclaimed. "Your uncle gave you this?"

"Yeah. He picked it up on a trip somewhere. Nice, huh?" Ryoga smiled faintly, secretly pleased that Ranma was impressed with the knife.

"It's great! C'mon, leave the rest of that stuff. Turn the light down and get up here." Ranma patted the mattress of the futon.

Ryoga did as instructed, turning off the lights. The distant glow from the television down the hall and the street light outside were the only sources of illumination, lending a mystical element to what they were about to do. Ryoga lowered himself down cross-legged facing Ranma, looking nervous and expectant, his gently rounded face nearly lost in the dark.

"Now," Ranma began with a warm smile for his best friend, his eyes catching a twinkle from the street lamp. "Hold out your right hand, palm up. I'll cut you, then you cut me. Alright?"

Ryoga nodded silently, extending his hand. Carefully, leaning down so that he could see better, Ranma poked the sharp tip of the knife blade into the other boy's palm and pulled a cut through the skin lightly. The color of Ryoga's blood was black in the low light, and it welled up from the cut in thick abyssal drops. Ranma glanced up.

"Did that hurt?"

"No," Ryoga replied truthfully. He took the knife from Ranma and, with his undamaged hand, repeated the ritual on his friend.

Quickly, they clasped hands, lacing their fingers together and pressing their palms as tightly as they could. The cuts tingled warmly, sending electric shivers down their arms as their blood mingled together. Smirking, Ranma reached up and snatched one of the headbands from Ryoga's hair. He snapped the knot out of it, and wrapped it loosely around their wrists.

"Let's say an oath, to really make this binding," Ranma suggested, squeezing Ryoga's hand. He was hiding it well, but Ranma could feel the other boy trembling slightly. He inched just a bit closer and tried to come up with something that sounded reassuring, binding and permanent. "Now that we're united by our blood, we'll always be together, no matter how far apart we are," Ranma whispered insistently, his voice dropping with the seriousness of his oath. "And we'll always take care of each other. No matter what happens. Do you swear?"

"I s - swear . . . " Ryoga promised softly. He felt the oath with all of his heart, gazing with an unblinking stare at the boy in front of him.

"I swear, too," Ranma agreed.

They held the position for several long moments, just looking at each other, as if memorizing every detail that they could. Between their pressed palms, a warmth was birthed and grew, sliding up their arms and passing between them in soft waves which kept rhythm with their heartbeats. Ryoga was the first to look down, intimidated by the moment. He noticed the black blood dripping from their hands onto the blanket they were sitting on, but it really didn't seem very important.

Ranma smiled to himself at Ryoga's shyness. It was such an endearing trait, and Ranma liked the thought that he would always be close enough to protect and guide Ryoga.

He unwound the bandana, noticing the dark stains of blood on the blanket. "Damn," he frowned. "I'm sorry, your mom is gonna be mad."

"She won't notice," Ryoga replied flatly. He watched as Ranma used the bandana to wipe the excess blood from his cut, feeling rather lonely again now that Ranma had taken his hand away. Ryoga looked down at the knife he still held, then wiped the blade clean on his pant leg.

"You keep the knife," Ranma ordered, "to remind you of our oath the next time you get lost."

Ryoga glanced up. "What about you?"

"I'll keep the bandana," Ranma said brightly, leaning forward to take Ryoga's hand. He carefully wiped the blood from his friend's cut as well, then made a great show of precisely smoothing out the stained square of material, folding it and tucking it away in his gi. He smiled up at the other boy, very pleased with what they had done. "Now neither of us will ever be alone again."

There was a strange twisting feeling in the pit of Ryoga's stomach. He squeezed his right hand into a tight fist, marveling at the sensation of the cut pulling as he did so. The thought that he now shared Ranma's blood was at once comforting and frightening, but he knew that he would much rather carry Ranma with him at all times than be alone any more. He bit at his lower lip with the tip of a fang and fought to keep his emotions in check. He didn't want to tear up like some weak little idiot just when Ranma had sworn this oath with him. What if Ranma decided not to be his friend anymore? Could an oath be taken back once it was said? Ryoga didn't want to find out. He met Ranma's shadowed eyes. "Th - th - thank you, Ranma . . . " Ryoga breathed softly.

Ranma drew him into a hug, wrapping strong young arms around him and pulling him close. Though Ryoga normally shied away from physical interaction, he was more than happy to permit this embrace, leaning against his best friend until Ranma was motivated to lay back on the futon. There, in the oddly flickering dark, the two boys held each other, Ranma with his face buried in the softness of Ryoga's hair, Ryoga listening to Ranma's calm, even heartbeat. Neither of them were quite old enough to identify the feelings they felt, or to recognize that this peace would be fleeting. Ranma only knew that he wished he could hold Ryoga in the protective shelter of his arms forever.

And Ryoga prayed that Ranma would never let go.

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