Chapter Text
It was getting a little silly. Ranma was aware.
But it wasn't like he could help it, really. The nightmares always started the same. Her cold, lifeless, unmoving body draped over his lap like a limp doll. Her eyes shut, mouth parted but not breathing. Then there was her face. So pale, so unlike her usual flushed one. Always colored in either anger or content. She was always injured in his nightmares. Either bleeding from her side and staining his hands with it or from her chest, right where the heart was.
He always tried to stop it. Always attempted to put pressure on the wounds, support her head. He would try to keep her conscious even with the knowledge that her heart was not beating. He'd press his mouth to her cold temple, mouthing words hoarsely, rubbing his palms over her cheeks and desperately trying to bring the warmth back to her face.
"Please--please." He'd shake, his tears dropping down to her dust-stained cheeks and creating streak marks over her skin. "I beg you, for the love of God. Open your eyes and scream at me." He'd whisper. "Akane, don't leave me here. I can't--I won't live without you." His whispers usually turned into pathetic sobs at that point.
He usually woke up the same way too. Sweat-drenched, soaking his clothes, hair sticking to his forehead and neck. Breathing was the hardest part. His chest ached with every inhale, his hands shook with the mere effort it took to get his lungs to function. The most humiliating part of this cycle was what came after. The drag of his hands over his face, that part where he sat there and attempted to fight the urge that always erupted. He needed to go see her. Needed to make sure she was in her bed, asleep. Safe and sound. He needed to hover his hand near her nose and mouth, needed to feel her breath on his skin, needed to see her chest fall and rise with the proof of her heartbeats.
It was so stupid, so silly. He did this every night. Not just the part where he snuck into her room like a creep and watched her sleep, but the part where he tried to talk himself out of it.
She is literally in her bed. She is every night. You're being insane. Just go to sleep, what the hell is wrong with you?
He'd lie back down, grimacing at the unwelcoming feeling of his sticky skin against the sweat-warm mattress. It would only take him a few seconds, then he would give up. Cast the blanket to the side, and stand up.
He could be normal about this and go to her room by the door, but nothing about him was normal so he wasn't going to force himself to be so all of the sudden. Sliding the window door open, he placed his left hand on the rim of the edge, swung his legs over to the other side and then--jumped up.
The cool night breeze hit his skin in the most delicious way possible. He closed his eyes, letting the wind brush his long hair away from his nape, let some of his self-loathing slip with the wind too, then he reached his other hand up to the roof tile and with the kind of might only Ranma Saotome possessed, he hauled himself upwards. The path towards Akanes window was simple then.
He walked across the roof, then jumped very quietly down on Nabikis varenda and then reached for the curved roof and swung himself over to the steep edge of Akanes window.
And then. Only then, his heart would stop beating like he was getting chased by wolfs. Only then would the colors of the world bleed back into the pages, only then would breathing stop being manual.
Akane Tendo always slept like she was fighting in her dreams. One leg stuck out from beneath the blanket, the other was curled upwards in a seemingly uncomfortable position that he was sure would be the cause of tomorrow's "my leg is cramped" complaints.
Her hair had been growing, she had been letting it. It reached past her shoulders now, often tucked with bows and ribbons but when she was asleep it was let loose. She wore a chiffon pale yellow ruffled pajama, and one of her arms was thrown up and rested on the headboard, the other was over her own stomach.
She was full of life even in her sleep. It made his chest ache in the best and worst way possible.
Ranma leaned back, eyed the landing and then dropped down to the backyard. He slid the backdoor open, and walked towards the downstairs bathroom. He didn't want to wake up Kasumi again, he had done it accidentally a week ago by showering in the upstairs bathroom and still felt a little bad about it today.
He grabbed a towel, and stepped inside the bathroom. Shut the door, locked it and started the shower. He balled his clothes and threw them into the laundry basket. He didn't wait for the water to warm up, he stepped beneath the cold stream and let it wash the night away. His head buzzed. He shut his eyes and rested his forehead against the tiles and his palms followed. He hadn't gotten a proper goodnight sleep for long. It had started showing, too. He had called Nabiki Kasumi and Kasumi Nabiki. He had handed Mr Soun a pillow when he had asked him to pass over the salt, and the worst part of it all was his training. He was getting sloppy, he was losing focus. He was losing to Ryoga nowadays.
It was getting really, really silly.