Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Memoirs of being in the Saddle ❯ Being Trusted: The Pleasant Evening ( Chapter 33 )

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

=-=-=-=

 

As I said, Tuesday was likely our last day together, given how long Ranma was typically kicked out of the Tendos. Soun was likely going to worry that any longer might drive Ranma to another fiancée, and find some excuse to let him back in. For a man obsessed with joining the schools, his actions were often contradictory.

 

That meant tonight would be like a final exam, a culmination of efforts.

 

Give me a pleasant evening. 

Like a chef's Omakase, I'd leave everything to Ranma, offer no advice, give no instruction.

 

You see, Ranma understood what it meant to be Seen. 

To do so is different than being Watched, in one crucial aspect: it was personal.

 

Idols, actresses, singers, and even Martial Artists all had their own moments, moments when they had to be what someone wanted them to be, be it on stage for a vast crowd, a group of rivals, or even for one person, themselves, as they practiced katas and forms and dance moves and poses to perfection.

 

Ranma had studied me, had tested me on multiple occasions, had seen some of my many scars, and we had talked.

 

What did I like? 

She'd seen where my eyes lingered. 

What did I want?

She'd seen how far I could resist.

 

The most important was that it was up to Ranma to choose. 

Had I done enough? Hinted enough? Shown enough?

 

What would she offer?

 

-=-=-=-

 

I will admit, aside of watching him go to school in the morning, alone, still no sign of Akane, I stayed indoors for the entire day.

 

I had my own work, the duplicator was seldom not busy with custom orders, but you'll forgive me if I state quite honestly that I don't recall most of the day. 

It just blurred on by like white noise.

 

Until that knock on my door.

Ranma waited until I actually opened the door, something he hadn't done in some time. 

 

Once I opened the door and gestured for him to come in, he was hesitant, taking his time to remove his shoes instead of kicking them off to land perfectly next to mine.

He followed behind me silently, towards the kitchen table, and we sat in our usual spots. And we both said nothing.

 

I mean, at this point, what could I say? This was a minefield and standing still was the safest move. 

But was it the best?

 

"So..." I managed to get out, before I winced internally. Real smooth Nemo.

 

"After-" He said at last, staring hard at the checker pattern on my table. "After we eat." He finally looked up at me. "Okay?"

 

"As you wish."

Again, with my nerves, I couldn't tell you how the takeout tasted. It was a pizza, but aside of the usual toppings of corn and mayo, I couldn't tell you anything about it.

 

Once Ranma put the boxes in the garbage can by the back door, he returned to find the kitchen table bare of plates and cups, everything but one small thing.

 

The box, and the collar within it.

 

-=-=-=-

 

She took her time, and I admit that the wait was equal parts internal debate and emotional turmoil.

 

I had asked Ranma for a, and I quote, "pleasant evening". And yes, that could be a lot of different things, especially with the Japanese used.

 

Now, at this moment waiting, I was struck with doubts.

Who wouldn't be?

 

Until I heard Ranma's quiet steps down my hallway, the click of heels on wood.  

 

She was vibrant.

 

She was wearing a deep red evening dress, one that I had never seen before and certainly wasn't in either of the boxes of clothes. It was sleeveless and a plunging neckline, advertising what Ranma wasn't wearing.

 

Her makeup was perfect, her pigtail undone and hair artfully arranged, her lips a vibrant ruby red.

 

I didn't say a word, I barely breathed. I just stared. 

This time though, Ranma wasn't worried at my lack of response. In fact, she looked slightly pleased.

 

She took a step in her heels, hips moving and breasts jiggling, ever so slightly.

"Shall we?" Her smile was warm and inviting.

 

She took my hand and carefully led me to the couch, gaze and posture demure despite the frightening levels of strength she casually displayed by shifting the entire couch with just her toes. 

 

She seated me, leaning over me as she did, giving me a clear view down her dress. Definitely no bra, and, as she turned to sit next to me, I wasn't sure if I saw a panty-line either.

 

For my efforts, I had the popcorn ready, a large damn bowl as this was Ranma we were talking about here, as well as a bottle of red wine and two fine glasses to pour them in. And a spare bottle tucked out of sight by my little endtable.

 

Ranma hadn't had any wine before, barring a little Japanese plum wine one time, and while I wasn't certain if she'd like it, I knew that she knew from various movies we had watched that wine was something people drank on occasions like this. After the man uncorked it and poured of course.

 

I did just that, after starting the movie and killing the lights.

First I handed Ranma her glass, with hers being far fuller than mine but naturally I had poured mine second and covered it with my hand as I did. I had no idea what Ranma would do or how far she would go, but I figured every bit of alcohol in her system would help tonight.

 

"To a pleasant evening." She smiled easily, I couldn't tell if she was nervous or not.

 

"Indeed Girl," I agreed, clinking glasses with her.

 

And then the movie began.

 

-=-=-=-

 

It was a movie that we had both seen, in fact, it was the first movie we had watched with Ranma as Girl in a dress. 

Was that why Ranma had chosen it, or was there another reason?

 

There was no popcorn between us this time, it was on my lap, and she sat as close as she dared to reach it. 

She was less than an inch from me, close enough that I could smell the scent of the shampoo she'd used, and the light scent of fresh makeup. 

And yes women out there, we can smell it, and we quickly learn to associate it with things.

 

We were so close, and despite this closeness, I wasn't sure how any of this was going to go. 

 

But I needn't have worried.

 

After the first bit of slapstick on screen, when we both started chuckling, Ranma shifted closer, ostensibly to reach for some popcorn, and her warm body ever so slightly pressed against mine.

 

Then, she gently grabbed my arm and draped it around her shoulders.

 

It would have been perfectly natural for a girl to do something like that on a date with someone she liked, but this wasn't natural in any sense of the word.

Not for any part of this. Be the word 'date' or 'girl' or 'like'. Hell, not even for the word 'natural' itself.

 

None of this was impulsive, or casual, or accidental, or relaxed.

Instead what it was, was a perfectly precise and calculated Martial Arts move. Part of a kata.

And had I not been a ten year veteran of Nerima, and seen a veritable boatload of esoteric Martial Arts specializing every which way, I might have missed it.

 

-=-=-=-

 

There's a term in martial arts known as 'trapping', a vital way to intercept a limb, and like the name says, trap it in a way that prevents its use.

The way she draped my arm around her shoulders trapped it, her fingers carefully and precisely guiding my arm into place. 

 

With me being both taller and longer limbed, my arm casually draped around her should have had my hand resting directly on her left breast.

Should have being the operative word, as she had not only compensated, but intercepted with her own hand, fingers intertwined with mine.

 

It looked and felt nice, intimate, almost romantic, but it meant my fingers were under her control, and they just missed touching her chest because of it. It also meant she could feel my pulse and anticipate any movement I could make, as I quickly found out.

 

When I shifted to reach for my glass, she shifted as well, never letting the distance of her thigh vary from mine. When I leaned over to pour more wine for her, she leaned as she offered the glass.

 

So as I said, nice, intimate, and absolutely under her control.

 

Midway through both the movie and the bottle of wine, of which Ranma seemed to like but I now knew could be another fabrication, I had an idea.

 

I reached for the remote and paused the movie, mid joke. Her chuckle froze the instant the movie did. Even her good humor was another piece of control and distraction. 

That was why she picked this movie, she knew when to laugh.

 

"Were I a Martial Artist Sensei, I would no doubt have some vague and condescending compliment for you Girl." My voice sounded a bit wry for my ears. "Something like 'almost perfect, one hair out of place', or somesuch."

 

I leaned hard to the right, almost folding myself against the couch armrest. Ranma natually bent with me, unwilling to lose her hold on my hand and what was romantic quickly became comical.

 

"Ain't that the point?" It was Ranma's voice, the female one, not the Girl's softer lilting tone. "A perfect night, a perfect role, a perfect Girl?"

 

"But I am not a Martial Artist, I am a cameraman, in all three senses of the word." I continued as if she hadn't spoken. "So instead I will use my style of words instead. My lingo."

 

How far could I push this?

 

"Nice rehearsal, but can you do it live?"

 

-=-=-=-

 

I untangled my arm only when she relaxed and let go of my fingertips, showing how I'd never be free unless she let me. 

I stood and looked down at her, looming over her with my natural height. 

 

And with an over the shoulder button press on the remote I ejected the tape, without rewinding it.

 

That earned me a raised eyebrow as I never ever let a tape stay in mid-play before, and it was a stern rule I had explain as soon as I let Ranma use the movies on the left.

 

But that was the point, I had to not be doing the usual motions, I had to be 'doing this live' myself.

 

I went to the left collection, and thanks to my sorting system I had just the right tape to watch.

 

The sequel to the movie we had been re-watching, one that I hadn't watched yet.

And neither had Ranma. No cues for her memory, or from me to be read.

 

I popped the old tape out, left it on the coffee table, and started the new one up. 

 

"Can you perform with a fresh movie and no cues?" I challenged her, then sat down next to her, even closer now. 

As the movies anti-piracy warnings started up, I didn't pour the last of the wine so much as bluntly dump it into her glass, filling it up to nearly the brim. "Tipsy?"

I grabbed the side bottle and popped it's cork as well, topping my own glass off. "You as well as I?"

Finally, the piece de resistance, I grabbed the popcorn bowl and handed it to her. "With me reaching for the popcorn in your lap?" 

 

A challenge, as many as I could think of.

 

As I said, I knew Ranma well, better than most, and I was learning the secrets buried in the depths from both the tapes and my time with both her and him.

 

And I had as many excuses as I could in the circumstances.

 

The previews had ended before Ranma, no, Girl turned slightly to face me in the dim lights of my living room. 

 

It was a small smirk covered in lipstick on a face carefully done in exquisite makeup, but a smirk nonetheless.

 

"You're on."

 

The movie started.

 

-=-=-=-

 

This time it was much harder for Girl to keep everything under control.

 

Neither of us had seen the movie and while I had the experience of watching many shows to give me clues to predict some of the humor, I was surprised on occasion, Ranma was surprised more often. 

With her pressed ever so slightly against me, when one of us laughed, the other felt it, and when we both laughed, more of her was rubbing against me.

 

More wine made her a tiny bit sloppier, but it also affected myself, and that made me hard to read when my arm was around her once more.

 

And the popcorn was key, I had to turn and reach for it, letting me look down her dress whenever I pleased, though not enough to be obnoxious.

 

All told, this was the challenge, could Girl perform even when she was distracted and enjoying herself? And when I was?

 

The movie was a continuation of the first story, with the 'High School' students graduating going to the same university and being exposed to more antics and humor. And romance, that really made her squirm.

 

So much so that as she drank in what two college level kids might try, her precise control waned a touch. 

On my end, I tried to watch, drink, and eat popcorn, and of course get as close to her as I could, just like the movie.

 

Mistakes happened; The knuckles of my hand getting popcorn brushed against a breast ever so slightly; My hand slipped from around her shoulder to almost around her waist, a thigh happened to be touched just above the hem of her dress; A gentle shift and she found herself pressing against me a little bit more.

 

And a wide-eyed and slightly flushed Ranma learned thanks to that movie what other things a couple dating might do to each other.

Not that she'd copy them right away, but they were out there now, in her mind.

 

Never had I ever had a movie go by so fast before.

Suddenly it was over.

 

And Ranma hadn't pulled away.

 

What now?

 

"And," I almost whispered, as the credits rolled past, "If I tried the last step there, the one they did on the couch, what then?"

 

The man in question had gently pushed her down on the couch, and had leaned in for a kiss.

 

"Try it." she whispered back coyly.

 

I would have, had I not seen her one foot slip out of the shoe and her toes press against the wooden floor. Ready to brace herself.

 

She was still in control, damn it.

 

So instead I pulled back, separating us on the couch.

 

"Would you like me to give you a pompous Martial Artist koan or a Cameraman's sound byte?"

 

She stood and it was her turn to loom over me, as much as she could with her short height.

 

"Up to you to decide. But only after we get done with the photoshoot."

 

The movie clicked and started to rewind.

 

-=-=-=-

 

With a mechanical *click* the final photo of the third roll was taken.

 

The night was over. My pleasant evening was finished.

 

From leading me up the stairs, wriggling her hips just a touch, to handing me the camera, to posing more aggressively than she had ever before, everything was firmly in her control and executed with precision.

 

Automatically my hands moved without me needing to look, opening the camera, removing the film, closing the case with a click. In that time Ranma had also moved, seemingly automatically as well, getting off the bed, retrieving her heels. 

 

Performance complete.

 

Neither of us spoke. The air grew awkward.

 

"Nemo I-"

"Ranma I-"

 

We both spoke at the same time, and both of us stopped. The awkwardness only grew more palpable.

 

Smiling slightly, she gestured for me to go first. 

 

"I was going to say thank you for this pleasant night, you did quite well and," I glanced at the three rolls of film on the small table, "Ask if you were going to want to wait for me to develop those tonight, or do a final check sometime later."

 

Then it was her turn.

 

"Sir, I was going to ask it you wouldn't mind waiting here for a little bit, I'd like to get out of all this," she in turn gestured to her dress, "And talk to you normally for a bit."

 

As Ranma, she didn't say.

 

When I nodded she strode out of the room quickly, leaving me alone with my thoughts. And they were many.

 

As the door shut with a click, my 'Sir' posture slumped and and I let my breath out slowly through my teeth. 

 

That had been intense, yet lacking. For all my worries about going too far too quickly, I hadn't factored on how things would be internalized and interpreted. 

 

Ranma had taken the makeup, the movies, the idols, and the photos shoots and created some sort of cabaret performance. 

Alluring, ever-so slightly physical, and thoroughly disconnected from anything emotional. 

 

On the one hand, it would be a perfect platform to ply her with drink and get more pool videos in time. Maybe even a Gravure shoot or a bikini set.

 

On the other, it meant that Girl was merely a thing now, held in outstretched arms to me. No longer was it a mould to form Ranma, it was armor.

 

I continued to muse and ponder, even as the moments went by. 

Five minutes, ten, fifteen... Had Ranma forgotten to come back up? 

 

I was leaning on my bed, keeping weight off the stump as I had been getting twinges, when I heard the faint knock on my door, so light as if someone was barely able to bring them self to touch the door. 

 

I hobbled over and opened it to reveal Ranma, dressed in her ever classic red Chinese shirt and black pants. The long sleeved one with the white cuffs though she had forgone the black belt she used to sinch it to her small waist. 

 

The collar was gone, as was the makeup, while the pigtail was back. Clearly this was to be serious. 

 

"Can I come in?"

 

Silently I hobbled back a single step and held the door open for her. 

As she stepped in an odd thought came to me. 

Technically this was Ranma's first time in my bedroom. It had always been Girl in here. Girl standing by the backdrop. Girl posing on my bed.

But did Ranma see it like that? 

 

I followed her to my bed and she both leaned and sat against it, eerily doing exactly what I had been just doing moments prior. 

For my part I went back to the prime photospot and simply shifted my weight off of the metal and onto my meat leg, something I did often, just not in front of other people when they could see it. 

But with Ranma, I could.

 

A minute passed and she didn't speak, instead staring down at her closed hands, what she could see of them with her heavy tits in the way, and trying to find the right words. 

 

Finally, they came to her. 

 

"You've done so much for me." Her voice was soft, yet I heard the faint disbelief in it. Like she didn't believe it herself, no, more that she didn't understand why.

 

When I shrugged in response her brow furrowed. "I mean it. More than I think you know." She stopped and again struggled for the words.

 

The silence was growing again, to the point that I felt I had no choice but to break it.

 

"Do you really believe that?" I asked her plainly. "Would you like me to give you my best guess?"

Surprised at my words, she gestured for me to try.

 

"As it stands, I see two possible ways things could have gone for you. First, is that you would have to go back to those boys for the remaining fifteen minutes."

 

That earned me a flinch and a nod.

 

"I won't go into any details but at best-case it would have been... unpleasant but endurable, at worst-case..." I trailed off, letting it fester. "Not endurable."

 

Another nod. I could see her fighting the urge to curl up defensively at my words.

 

"Afterwards, however it turned out, endurable or not, Nabiki would have it over you and she would use it anytime she saw fit." The frown returned to her face. "And in doing so never let it heal."

 

"Go on." She saw I was not done, and was content in letting me say what she couldn't.

 

"I meant what I said way back when, that you were hurt in ways you didn't know you could be hurt. When I saw it, when I understood, it was why I knew that I had to help you." 

 

Another lie, and a big one. 

I wasn't helping her recover, I was putting her back together in a way that I wanted. I had, as a matter of fact, led her nearly every step of the way to the cliff's edge. 

 

Had I not bothered the tent that day, she would have had an unpleasant week, then been back at the Tendos none the wiser. 

Would Nabiki have escalated? Would there have been the Shower?

Who can say.

 

"Let me be honest with you Ranma," And for a moment I believe I really was, for once, and she could see it on my face I think. "In my time, I've seen many people break. All it takes is a bad hand in life, an accident, a moment of desperation, in the industry I work in it's as common a story as the rain in the summer. Bad circumstances leading to bad decisions, which lead to even worse circumstances and worse decisions. It goes on and on, until something breaks."

 

"Or someone." Ranma added for me. That earned her a nod from me.

 

"Or someone." I agreed. "In your case since it wouldn't be allowed to heal, you likely would overcompensate in a bevy of ways to cover it, and be more aggressive and abrasive, and get into more fights, all while you despised this part of yourself." I gestured at her female form. "And that would poison your future."

 

"Oh?" She said quietly. "How so?"

 

"Look at how you treated me right after it happened; Keeping your distance, testing me, instantly assuming the worst, and that was with someone whom you trusted and knew hadn't harmed you, nor couldn't. It would be worse for anyone else. Any man entering your life would always be suspect, always radiate that risk in the back of your mind, and never be fully trusted. Thus, no real friendships, no allies, no one to help you, save only with your rivals and enemies, whom you've established boundaries and wary respect."

 

I didn't go any further than that, though I could have easily. Like how Ranma would lean further and further to his masculine half, how he would grow addicted to the only thing that gave him any semblance of control of his life, however briefly it was until cold water came. At how brittle he would become, and how the second being a 'man among men' failed for whatever reason, that disaster would follow.

 

But going into all of that, it wouldn't have helped with what I was working towards, so I didn't bother. 

Instead I emphasized the obvious.

 

"Anyone, including Nabiki, would be able to set you off by challenging your masculinity, and using it arrange for any bizarre or degrading challenge they wanted, and stack the deck in their favor in any way they desired. And you'd do it, you'd never back down."

 

She grimaced but didn't disagree with my assessment.

 

"And when you realized that your female fiancées want from you the exact same thing that those boys in the shower wanted, only with your male side..." I shook my head then shrugged. "I have no idea how you'd react to them."

  

That last bit startled her, and her eyes darted back and forth in their sockets, things coming together in a twisted epiphany.

 

"I can't disagree with any part of that." She whispered. Then her eyes found mine. "But you said 'two ways', and that was one."

 

It was my turn to grimace. But her eyes didn't relent.

 

"The second case -the worst case- would be when you went back to the shower with those boys, and..." I paused to find a way to say the next part with as much delicacy as I could find. "They go too far with you, and you get violent as a result, either during or after."

 

She nodded softly.

 

"And then while hurting them they would tell you just who set you up, they would reveal Nabiki's involvement. And then..." I didn't bother finishing, I didn't need to.

 

Her face was tight, but her gaze was blank, empty. Her body, while standing still was shaking ever so slightly, like she would explode if a feather touched her.

 

And with a slow breath, she relaxed and I heard the whole house creak slightly.

 

"Also a very real possibility." She looked at me once more as she nodded, "Which is why I owe you."

 

Now it was my turn to be quiet and let her speak.

 

"Everything ya said, I was gonna say, though," she chuckled slightly, though her gaze remained deadly serious, "I ain't got your way with words. But you didn't finish."

 

Now it was my turn to frown slightly. 

What didn't I finish? 

What did I miss?

 

"I COULD have gone down either of those paths." She stressed the word. "It COULD have gotten bad. Really bad. But it didn't."

 

"I went a third way." She declared before her gaze softened. "All because of you."

 

"Then tell me, Ranma Saotome," My voice was the one that was hesitant now. "What did I do?"

 

"It took me a while to get it, I ain't good at things like this." She blushed ever so slightly. "Which I think is the point you had."

 

"And?" I wasn't going to show her my own weakness. Also I was curious at what she saw from my actions.

 

"I avoided being, well, this." She gestured to herself. "If there was a fight, I ignored it, and when there wasn't I did my best not to think about all this."

 

"I have an extra rib right now." She took a step towards me.

"I have breasts, big ones." Another step.

"I have bits inside me that bleed sometimes." A third.

"And finally, I don't mean to alarm you but..." She leaned forward, her breasts coming within inches from touching me, as she looked up with a small smile. "I have red hair." She mock whispered.

 

I fought down a chuckle, she had parroted my words back at me almost perfectly. Damn Martial Artists, even our speeches aren't safe.

 

"You call it Girl, and that's as good a name as any." She straightened her back, leaving my personal space though still in my reach. "All of my fears, all of my dread, and you made me go through it all. The dresses, the bras, the panties," She blushed again, looking so enticing, "The points where I wasn't wearing any."

 

"And because of that, by going through it here, you've made some of the fear go away." She concluded. "You've helped me map out the edges of it -whatever this is, and the more I'm like this, the more I do, the less it bothers me." A small smirk came to her lips. "In fact, I kinda like it."

 

The milestone had just dropped. Ranma, a sober Ranma -well with only a couple bottles of wine- had admitted something big. Something huge with only six little words. 

 

"You... like it?"

 

Six little words is such a small thing, like six little pebbles, but that's how avalanches start.

 

"Not for anyone else, just you." She admitted, her smirk fading into a small shy smile, "The thought of doing this for anyone else..." The smile was replaced with a grimace as she shuddered. "No. Never."

 

"You don't owe me for anything." I countered quietly, slightly unnerved at how intense the moment was becoming. I was terrible in these sincere moments, considering how rare I had them with anyone. I could feel my hands clench tightly, and how it made the rough skin on my forearms stretch slightly. "You've paid me back in full."

 

And in bathroom tapes, even more so.

 

"I paid you back," Ranma countered, using the feminine 'atashi' for I. 

Her head came up defiantly, showing me the bare neck, the lack of the red velvet choker. "But I didn't." That was her usual masculine 'ore' for I.

 

She stepped forward in a blur, far quicker than I could react. 

My tightly clenched hands were forced open with the ease I could have against a sleeping babys. 

Something small was placed in them.

 

I blinked in surprise, and when I'd finished the blink she was back where she started, pigtail settling down from the force of her efforts.

 

Stupidly, I stared down at my hands.

 

A roll of film.

An empty roll of film.

 

When I looked up at Ranma I saw something in her eyes. A glimmer of something, a spark. I'd seen it before, way back when I had taken two photos at the end of the very first time as Girl. That time I was behind the camera, shielded from it. This time it was focused on me.

 

I was riveted in place in that gaze and couldn't look away, but I was a professional after all. My hands continued to move, and without any effort or need to look down I automatically loaded the film into the camera around my neck.

 

"I owe you," She said softly, still using the masculine 'ore' as she stepped back further until she was almost sitting on my bed. "And I know what you like."

Her fingers went to the buttons of her Chinese shirt, starting from the bottom.

 

"I figured it out during our time at the pool." The first button came undone.

 

"It's okay, that's who you are. Nothing wrong with that." The second button came undone. "Nothing to be ashamed of."

 

"I've done this before." The third button came undone, and the overly large shirt was hanging off her chest, still denying me sight of what lay underneath. "For someone far worse, to beat them in a fight when I was helpless, so why not?"

 

"No one gets hurt." The last button was teased for a second. 

No, not teased, the fingers didn't follow through, still the hesitation remained.

 

"It's safe for both sides," She reassured herself. "There's a gap."

The top button finally came undone.

 

"I'm still me." She whispered.

 

And before her nerves could fail her she gripped the sides of her shirt and pulled it open.