Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Memoirs of being in the Saddle ❯ Being Trusted: The Offer ( Chapter 32 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

=-=-=-=

 

We first went to the camping store I had checked out the day before. I'd gone to them years ago back when I was heavy into wildlife photography and recording, as a cripple needs the best and lightest gear he can get, for trudging through the woods and hills is tough enough already with an ankle that can't pivot the way a meat foot can.

It had been some years, but as far as I could tell their quality had not diminished. If anything, advances in science had made it even better, especially with the ratios for space and weight.

 

"This thing is amazing!" The telescoping titanium tent-frame was both incredibly light and much larger than his older one. Plenty of room inside.

There was more, much more. A full mini-stove for both heating a cold tent and cooking -or boiling water from a handful of twigs, dual layered sleeping bags, modular mosquito sheets, rain covers, and a bevy of other luxuries not found in a humble Martial Artist's camping set.

Where I could camp quite comfortably in it pretty much in any hot or cold climate, from Northern Hokkaido mountains to an Osakan beach, Ranma would live like a King. Or Queen, depending on the weather.

And it all folded into a large backpack that was slightly smaller than his old one, at far less than half the weight. If he could swim to China in his old one, a fact that had really made me contemplate the bizarre reality I now lived in, then with this new one he could probably swim to Canada or something.

It was expensive, and more importantly it looked expensive. That was very important as Nabiki needed to see it. It had to make her seethe. She might calm down if she saw Ranma come back with a cheap one. 

But then Ranma saw the price tag.

Interesting, I didn't know a pigtail could stick straight up in shock.

 

"Holy-" his voice nearly broke, showing that puberty wasn't quite finished with him yet. "I can't-"

 

"Indeed." I interrupted, eying the seller, "Not without having your little sister try it out first. What if the straps dug in someplace sensitive on her? We can't have that now can we?" I glanced over at the fellow and beckoned him over. "We're interested, but would you let him use your staff washroom?"

 

Sensing a sale, and a commission, he led Ranma behind the counter. Ranma went along, lost in thought.

While Ranma was in the washroom, the seller skulked over. I eyed him calmly. "You likely have a sale, if," I held up a hand, "His sister approves, as she tends to borrow his things."

 

I watched the redhead vault over the counter with ease. "And here she is now."

 

The seller turned and his eyes bugged out. Ranma tended to do that, especially if her shirt was damp.

 

"Focus." I whispered in his ear. "You might lose the sale if you can't keep your composure."

 

Naked greed warred with barely veiled lust in his eyes. 

 

"And she's mine." I added with quiet emphasis. I didn't need any other complications, this would be hard enough as it is.

 

Ranma arrived slowly, her face looking pensive, and I knew why.

The cost was large, quite literally so. And she'd just finished off her debt.

But it led to victory over Nabiki. 

And with two successes, she was hungry for a third.

She eyed me as I gestured for her to try it on.

The seller was composed now, eyes on the prize, money, and his hands didn't linger as he helped her strap the camping set on her.

As I had hoped, the straps did not dig in, and in fact fit her at least as well as it did the male form. Were I a touch snide, I'd say the criss-crossed straps would in fact support her chest a bit while she wore it.

I nodded in satisfaction, then gestured towards the till.

 

She watched as the seller to rang up the bill and I paid with my credit card. 

 

"Don't worry," I said as calmly and confidently as I could to her as we left. "I have a plan."

 

-=-=-=-

 

We left the shop without the camping set, as it would be delivered to my house later this evening. 

Her hauling it along would just be an influence on her decisions, and I needed her to have no excuse to fall back on.

 

Ranma followed me now, not quite by my side like before. Her hands were behind her head, elbows out, and she was trying her hardest to appear casual, and failing miserably.

 

Despite that, she did not stop me from purchasing the camping set for her. She trusted me.

 

"I know, you just got everything paid off, and you don't want any more debt." I began, "Yet you also need to beat Nabiki, but how exactly?"

 

She nodded, then tensed slightly. "I could," she said as casually as she could, which was terribly, "Do more things I guess."

 

With her hands clasped behind her head, her now mostly dry chest was still heavily emphasized. She shrugged, a touch too hard, making things jiggle on purpose.

Another test, wary even now. One did not rise to Ranma's station without by letting their guard down.

Naturally, I did not rise to the gambit, immensely tempting as it was. It helped that she had both her shirt and undershirt on though. A pose like that topless would have probably been impossible no to linger upon.

 

"You could." I agreed calmly, gaze turning back to the street, looking for the store in question. "Or you could do what you are already doing but with better tools." 

 

I could smell the store before I actually laid eyes on it. But then, I knew the smell of cosmetics quite well, though usually mixed with the scent of sweat. 

Sweat and... other things.

 

-=-=-=-

 

The cosmetics store was a marvel of what women did to themselves. Ostensibly to appeal to a man, but at least half of it was competitive in nature, doing battle with other women. And a store like this was like a wall of guns in a movie.

Honestly, even now with ten years in the porn industry, I had to wonder if any women actually believed that all of this -and there was a something on every inch of wall and counter- was for us, the men to appreciate.

I swept my gaze from one wall to the other, mildly surprised at how much I actually recognized despite not formally being in the business.

- Face Primers, which were ironically needed in porn more often than not due to the 'heavy activity'.

- Concealers, something that Ranma wouldn't need.

- Foundation, both mineral powder and heavy cream.

- Face powder, for that matte finish.

- BB Cream, something again Ranma wouldn't need, but something that had started in Germany, spread to Korea, and was now going to be the next big thing here in Japan.

- Rouge, which despite the classic phrase 'Ladies pinch, whores use rouge', it was used by both for both. 

- Contour powder, something that really helped some of the flatter faced women, giving illusion and depth.

- Highlight, coming in liquid, cream and powder.

- Bronzer, which would be interesting as Ranma couldn't really tan, as going to Girl washed even that away.

- Setting Spray, vital in the porn industry when things got active.

- Setting powder, similar but more for static filming.

- Eye Primer, as you only wanted eye makeup to run on the 'hardcore'.

- Mascara, been around for some time, though in Ranma's case, I'd swear that her eyes sometimes had a natural mascara line for some reason.

- Eyelash curlers, something that might make Ranma's eyes less sporty and more feminine.

- Fake eyelashes, extensions ranging from demure, to whorish.

- Eyebrow pencils, something I wondered would even work on Ranma given the vibrant red hair.

- Eyebrow wax, likely only something Ranma would use if her own were burnt off in some firey explosion.

- Eyebrow gels, both colored and non, something that would extend Ranma's range.

- Eyebrow powder, again for color and definition, with many shades of reds.

- A veritable rainbow of lipsticks, naturally with heavy emphasis on the reds, but every shade from bubblegum pink to black to neon green.

- Lip Cream, a softer form of lipstick, which would take Ranma's soft lips and make them flawlessly smooth.

- Lip Gloss, for that emphasis that many women desired, and, many directors of BJ scenes demanded. From frosted, glittered, glassy, and metallic.

- Lip Liner, for those subtle lines.

- Lip Plumper, which made my cock twitch at the thought of Ranma with ever so slightly swollen lips.

- Lip Balm and it's cousin Lip Primer, a one-two cycle that would be needed to restore collagen that Ranma might be able to skip due to the reverting effects of Jusenkyo.

- And yes, a second rainbow of Nail Polishes, can't ever forget that.

 

Note to self, I need to get out a little more.

Nothing in this store was problematic, everything could be washed off or removed quickly, nothing overtly smelled or lingered, and they specialized only in the face and the hands. 

I'd chosen this store not only because our company used their full kits, but also because it didn't bother with perfumes. We didn't either, as you can't transmit smell on film, and many veteran actors were often worried at the smell of perfumes and colognes, as if they might be masking the scent of sickness or disease.

Hair products were also off the list, as many had lingering scents, ones that might draw suspicion. I'd get some plain scentless hairspray and gel from work.

 

If a little makeup helped Ranma descend down into Girl, this would push her head under the waves.

I discretely glanced over and saw just how frightened she was, frozen in this immense and elaborate display of feminitiy.

 

"I saw the scavenged bits you were using and I wondered." I mused, looking down at her, "Where did you learn? And how did you get so decent with such a handicap?"

 

"I-I copied others, but..." her eyes swept left and right. "I don't know how to use all this..."

It was a lot. She'd done only what the girls at school could carry in and apply discretely.

 

"I know. I've had to carry small kits to shoots often, and even I barely know how it all works." I admitted, all while leading us towards the larger display kits by the till. "And so, if one doesn't know, one learns from someone who does."

The lady at the till looked up from her book, as most of their business came from shipping to other smaller stores and studios. She recognized me and nodded. I'd also picked up kits for our studio during the quiet times.

And I had been by just the day before...

When the lady brought up the large kit from behind the counter without a word from me Ranma's eyes widened, then narrowed when she saw the price tag. At how close it was to the camping set.

 

"You planned this," she growled, "didn't you?"

Another tricky spot, and any weakness would be spotted instantly.

 

"Yes." I said calmly. "Yesterday afternoon as a matter of fact."

I looked down at her, not with a glance, but squarely in her furrowed eyes. A minute would pass in front of the confused clerk.

 

"As you said, you could do more, but what?" I watched her carefully. "This was the only thing I could think of that you already do that would work." I quirked an eyebrow. "Unless you can think of something better?"

I leaned back, shifted my weight to the meat foot, crossed my arms, and waited.

It would be up to Ranma. 

The camping set was already purchased, though I could go back and request a refund, but would she even think of it?

If not this, then it could be simple debt, and Ranma knew that, but it would also be only a single day of being free of debt.

I watched her eyes shift back and forth in their sockets, mulling over things, choices.

I'd outlined the third and final victory condition, I'd outlined the costs.

 

Would it be that bad?

 

But that hit her pride, me doing this was like having the victory given to her. It wasn't earned.

Thus so, a stalemate. Ambivalence in the truest form of the word.

 

And I placed a finger on the scales.

 

"I know why you don't like it, and I do understand the issue," I spoke quietly, turning away from the lady manning the till. An mild offering to Ranma's privacy. "But try as I might, I couldn't come up with anything else that didn't have the risk of hurting you should an accident happen."

 

Ah, the guilt upon her face, no one could apply it like a scarred cripple.

 

"So, I tell you what Ranma," I proposed calmly, spreading my hands to offer the two choices. "I'll leave it up to you. Here." And I offered Ranma my credit card. 

She accepted it numbly. She'd probably never held one in her life before.

I shifted my metal foot so I could twist my body to extend one hand towards the lady with the kit and bill in hand. "She can show you how to use the card to purchase the kit if you decide to do so, and if you decide that you don't," I shrugged, "You can head back to the camping store and use the card to cancel the order. I'll leave it up to you. If you can think of a better idea, or want to do something else, just let me know." I glanced down at my watch. "Either way, I have to head back to work."

 

I left her there in the store, alone with her choices. Though I'd weighted them so much so that there was really only one.

 

-=-=-=-

 

Work was long, though there was no performance issues as the ladies had come to an appropriate arrangement while I had been on lunch, and I came home in the late hours.

Night time in Nerima could lean in one of two ways; dead quiet, like many Japanese prefectures, or, occasionally exploding, on fire, or some sort of weird shit happening in or around Furinkan High. Call it 70/30 over all.

 

And while it was one of the quiet nights, there was an oddity to be seen.

There was a tent in my empty lot. A fancy one.

As I walked by it, I heard snoring. Male snoring.

 

Ah, that was to be my punishment.

 

Ranma didn't owe me any debt any more, so instead of a performance, or time with Girl, I had to make do on my own.

Once inside my home and after I'd swapped my feet, I made my way first to the kitchen to see what leftovers I could scavenge. 

I found a plate with a cover waiting for me in the fridge, ready to reheat.

Ranma might be irked at me for going over his head like I did, but he was still a decent fellow.

I'd do the cooking for tomorrow. Only fair after all.

 

After eating, I made my way casually towards the bathroom, then to the mirror.

Four more red dots, making eight I hadn't seen. 

I couldn't risk watching any tonight, Ranma might need a late night bathroom break and stumble in. 

Tomorrow then. Monday would be seeing me in front of the television for much of the day, but at least I could head up and start the first of the duplications before I slept. Then watch one and duplicate one, keep a steady pace.

As I left the bathroom and carefully made my way towards the stairs with my tower of eight tapes, amusingly nearly identical to how I started the day, I spied the large makeup kit, unopened, sitting in the corner.

The lady had been paid to not only teach Ranma how everything in the kit worked, but to lie to her and state it was a free thing she offered to clients who bought the 'deluxe' kit. Half now, half after. 

Had Ranma not accepted the makeup, she'd get to pocket the money for free.

 

There was a risk that she'd take the money and not teach Ranma, but she had been quite earnest, and bored, and had a decent track record with our company, and I could put in a word with the supplier if necessary.

And it wasn't that much money all told. She was bored. Like an American tattooist often using their own arms as a sketchpad, I'd seen her makeup skills in action, used both on herself, and on the occasional client already.

Worst case, I have to show Ranma how most of it worked, which would be an interesting process, one I wasn't sure would be good or bad.

 

I'd know soon enough. The important thing was that Ranma had trusted me and had gone with my idea, which was really my first direct attempt to steer the pigtailed Martial Artist's life. 

 

I'd need a mirror in here, one with the light-bulbs around it, that and a small stool and table. I'd see what we had in excess at work.

 

-=-=-=-

 

Ranma was cooking breakfast for the both of us when I came down in the morning, properly early unlike my mad dash yesterday.

We ate, and I noticed how he was avoiding looking at me, and how his horrible poker face was showing guilt.

 

It took me a minute of chewing before I figured out why. 

 

Last night, he had decided to deprive me of Girl, of photos, and elected to sleep in the tent instead of my house.

Petty vengeance, and now that he had cooled off and had time to think about it, he was feeling a bit bad.

We couldn't have that, not with the time I figured we had left.

 

"Good idea." I said, sounding like I approved of his actions yesterday night. "You'll need the tent to be a little broken in by the time you go back."

His expression brightened at my words, then slipped into a carefully held neutral gaze. Heading back to the Tendos didn't seem to be a relief any more. Nabiki was there, waiting.

 

"Speaking about your tent, any idea where you are going to put it?" I asked, honestly curious. Nabiki had wrecked one, and a swimsuit, sabotaging another was likely not a matter of 'if', only when.

 

"I think I got a couple of spots that should work." He said, before shrugging, "Worst case I ask Kasumi to store it in her closet."

 

Interesting, especially if Nabiki struck again. It could brew into quite the spectacular altercation.

 

"And, how was your camping Saotome?" I asked pointedly, using Nabiki's pattern of speaking. "Akane went looking for you and could find neither hide nor hair of you." 

 

Ranma for his part, only looked surprised for an instant before his face went carefully bland, doing his best to give nothing away. "Oh, you know, around..."

 

"Off staying with one of your other fiancées?" I needled, seeing how he would react.

 

"Naw, didn't want to impose." He replied, gaze sharpening. 

 

"And where'd you get that fancy bit of gear, hmm?" I pressed.

 

"Oh this?" His voice was casual, steady. "Well, my old set was looking a little shabby, so I hopped a train and slept in a hotel for a night. Then I went and picked up this little number."

 

"No." I corrected, voice returning to my regular way of speaking. "That implies she got you and you are acknowledging it. Better to say you accidentally left food inside or packed it badly and had to buy a new one to correct your own mistake. Don't give her anything to hide behind."

 

He nodded, taking my advice and already working on his new lines.

 

Ironically, acknowledging that Nabiki had gotten one over him might soothe her pride a bit and defuse the situation. Naturally I couldn't have that. The pot had to be kept simmering.

 

He left for school, lost in thought of what he was going to say, leaving me to my tapes.

 

-=-=-=-

 

At last the tapes. It had been a long dry weekend for me, though Saturday had been fun.

 

As I'd both hoped and feared, the first four, the idol preparation ones on Saturday, were entirely clothed. 

Fascinating to watch, but not arousing.

 

Ranma as girl, strutted, posed, and used the mirror as a surrogate me, even going so far as using a swipe of shampoo on the bathroom wall to mark my eye-line. It was eerie at how she repeated the motions, the turns, the smiles, the poses, over and over until the first tape cut off. Almost frightening really, how she could precisely replicate such awkward innocence like that.

 

The second was a bad tape as it triggered just when she left the bathroom, and I skimmed it in fast-forward while thinking about what to plan for tonight. Should I offer a dish in apology, or should I ignore it and press on?

 

The third tape was far more important to see, this was after Ranma had seen the experienced idol modeling and posing, and the subtle motions that Ranma was using in front of an imaginary camera, from the loosening and tossing of her hair, to the seductive leanings, showed that she understood what the girl in the video was doing and why.

 

Midway through my watching the tape, around lunch time, I heard the sounds of confrontation at Furinkan.

 

I paused the tape and trotted upstairs, ready to climb onto my roof and watch. It would be vital to know if Ranma had been injured, hit with new magic, or, if a new focus might override what I was aiming for soon.

 

What I saw was bizarre, and that was saying something in Nerima.

 

Ranma was facing someone, that wasn't new, even if the opponent was an unknown.

Ranma facing what looked like a foreigner was a touch odd, but nothing really to worry about.

But where had the table and French full course dining set come from? I hadn't seen one of those in ages.

If this was a fight, why had none of the delicate glassware not broken?

 

Naturally as it was a battle, however weird, Ranma was game to fight, even if it meant using a knife and fork.

He did end up losing, shoving food in his maw as his opponent simply made the food disappear somehow.

 

And then I figured out how his opponent had won, when he stretched his mouth to simply absurd lengths. And spitting out an entire shoe.

Pretty damn disgusting all told.

 

And then the man was off, cloak flowing behind him as he dashed, leaving Ranma with some sort of paper in his hand.

Wait... was that a bill?

 

With the lunchtime battle over, I carefully made my way back down and back to the tapes. 

 

-=-=-=-

 

The fourth was like the third, only that it had two things I found really interesting. One that Ramna dragged out one of the beach chairs to practice laying down on it, clearly intending to pose on my bed. 

And the other... hot water.

 

Ranma, male, looked at himself in the dress, makeup on as he dried off his damp legs.

Seeing the worst case scenario.

 

His face with makeup was interesting. Not exactly ghastly, but almost... host-ish. 

I've seen worse behind the camera after all. The amount of men's asses alone as they pounded away made me largely immune.  

 

But, what did Ranma see in the mirror?

He wasn't trembling, or looking at all upset, or anything of the sort. 

If anything he looked relieved.

 

Then he splashed cold water directly on his face, and grimaced at how some of the makeup ran.

 

"Note to self," She said as she grabbed a towel. "Don't let it land on the face."

 

Oh, if I had ten yen every time I had heard that line from a woman, I could probably buy an apartment in downtown Tokyo.

 

-=-=-=-

 

The second set of four tapes was weird. And yes, I've been using that word a lot today.

This was the set with three more idol videos and one gravure extra.

 

I had been hoping against hope that I'd be seeing Ranma trying things, or taking things off, or pushing the sexuality up, but instead I got something bizarre.

 

Hour after hour of Ranma... trying to get cloth to stick to his arm?

 

Different cloths, different fabrics, he tried his spare tank top, his spare shirt, even fishing out one of my clean socks from the laundry.

After about a half hour he swapped to being female and continued nonstop.

Back and forth, back and forth, male and female, one arm, the other, even dropping his pants and sitting in both his and her boxers and trying to get things to stick on the legs.

 

And I had no idea why.

 

On the third tape, I heard a muted phone ring. Ranma stopped his... training, or whatever this was, and answered the phone.

The last tape showed how much time had passed, it was mid-evening from how the light in the bathroom window had changed. Ranma had spent hours learning the advanced makeup tips.

Ranma came back into the bathroom, face freshly scrubbed, and sat down on the stool, then got right back to trying to get cloth to stick to his arm.

 

And with that hour of unusual repetition, the last tape ended.

 

-=-=-=-

 

Ranma came home a bit late, probably training, or possibly trying to figure out how to stretch his face, to find me at in the kitchen at the stove, stirring up the pasta sauce.

 

All told, Italian food isn't a bad thing to make for a man with one leg, no constant stirring and frantic monitoring delicate sauces. Italian grandmothers made it all the time, so there was plenty of time for me to sit down and let the stump rest.

He looked annoyed though, more than the usual irritation I'd seen. Had the loss been that bad against the stretchy-faced foreigner?

This could wreck my last two nights with the Martial Artist, so I figured it was time to deflect and distract.

 

"I don't suppose you'd be kind enough to tell me what the hell I saw at lunch time?" I began, looking away from the pot.

 

"You saw that?" He seemed surprised at the fact. "How?"

 

"I've watched most of the fights there really," I replied, scooping up some fettuccine to add to the boiling pot. "It's half the fun of living here."

 

"But how?" He asked again, "You're..." He trailed off, looking contrite.

 

"A cripple?" I gruffed, teasing him.

 

"Not a Martial Artist!" Was the loud response, cheeks flushed. "You'd have to hop onto the roof to see Furinkan from here."

 

"And I can't do that with a metal foot?" I countered, smirking. "I tell you what, after we eat, I'll show you my true power."

 

-=-=-=-

 

"Shut up." He was sulking, pigtail drooping.

 

"Behold!" I announced as I gestured grandly towards the ladder. "The ultimate Cripple-Fu technique: The Stairway to Heaven!"

 

"Shut up."

 

"Now observe the technique in action! First you put your one foot here on this step:"

 

"Stop it." Ah, there was the smile.

 

"Then, and this is the important point, you put your metal foot in the step above the first one."

 

"Stop..." He was chuckling now, and I joined him.

 

He'd never seen the ladder as it was on the far side of the roof, which meant you never saw it from either Furinkan, or my yard.

Up I went, making good time for a cripple, only to find Ranma having jumped up as he was used to doing.

 

"Ah!" I admonished as I climbed onto my roof. "Only those who have performed The Stairway to Heaven can stand here. Go down and do it at once!"

 

"Seriously?" 

 

When I pointed down towards the ground with a serious case of mountain face, he sighed and hopped off the roof without a word.

 

Step by step, Ranma Saotome, heir to the Saotome School of Martial Arts, climbed a ladder like a normal human being.

 

I wouldn't be surprised if it was the first time he had ever done so.

 

When he was finally back up 'among the heavens' as it were, I resisted the urge to poke further fun with him and instead swept my arm towards my little viewing box.

 

"I built this coming on four-ish years ago, mostly to keep from slipping off the roof to watch the fights."

 

It wasn't much, two-by-fours perpendicular to the angles of the roof bracing and holding a small wooden platform which had a small roof of it's own with the leftover tiles. Since it was little more than a box to sit in rather than straddling the peak of the roof, it wasn't exactly what you could call elegant, but it worked.

 

It was a small thing, and for both of us to be in there was a tight fit, but we managed, and I showed Ranma the little tripod stand and the high grade binoculars I had brought with me.

 

"Over the years, I've seen a lot of weird and strange things happen over there, and a lot of battles."

 

The sun hadn't gone down yet and so it was still light enough to see pretty far. Ranma was peering through the the binoculars after I'd popped them off of the stand, and was sweeping his head from one end of Furinkan to the other. Soccer fields, the classrooms, the trees...

 

Hmm, best nip any questions in the bud.

 

"And yes, I've watched you." He swiveled the binoculars stare at me, before he brought them down to give me a quiet stare. "Your fights have been the best I've seen in years."

 

"Really?" He didn't glance back at the trees, but I knew his mind was going there. "Only in years?"

 

"Well..." I hedged, thinking about the past. "As I said, I built this thing four years ago, and there was a reason. The way she cleaned up the school."

 

"Oh?" Curiosity was piqued now, who was better than he was?

 

"Look, I'll tell you later, promise." I glanced out of the little rooflet and over at the sky. "I don't like the look of those clouds."

 

-=-=-=-

 

"The way I see it, we only got one more real day, Wednesday you're probably gonna have to go back."

 

Ranma nodded, munching on chips as we watched the movie together, both male and each on one side of the couch.

 

"I was thinkin'," He managed around the mouthful. "'Bout leaving tomorrow night and setting up camp closer to em'." He swallowed his chips. "Let them spot me and all."

 

A good plan, a way to test the mood of the Tendos, justify things, and, live in the brand new tent another day. It was obvious that he really liked it.

 

"Sounds like a plan." I replied, slightly unsure how to broach the topic I really wanted.

 

Ranma for his part, let the silence linger, but his eyes were on me, not the movie, like he wanted something.

 

"Ranma," I said at last, not daring to look directly at him, "I have a request, would you hear it?"

 

"Sure, go ahead." His response was controlled.

 

"Thus far, I've shown you things; and from them you've learned how it is being Seen. The things you've done, the things you've worn..." I hesitated for a second, trying to phrase my words correctly.

 

"I have." He replied, "It's harder than it looks, looking and being what someone else wants."

 

"Indeed." I agreed. "Every actress, every singer, every idol..." Every porn star I didn't say. "Being what someone else wants. And that brings me to my request."

 

"Go on."

 

"Tomorrow, as a summary of all that you have learned, could you give me a pleasant evening?" 

 

-=-=-=-

 

Ranma Saotome, whose female form was the object of my obsession, was silent for the rest of the movie.

 

I too was silent, terrified that I'd pushed one step too far, that the trust would be no more. That I'd be at best back to studying the girl from my extreme long distance lens, and never again in my bathroom mirror.

 

Never again this close.

 

The movie ended, I followed him quietly to the back door, and I watched him put on his shoes.

 

Finally, at the boundary of my door, he turned and gave me a small nod.

 

And he didn't say no.