As Kasumi hurried from the bedroom, Nabiki gazed at the panicked (but cute) redhead on display, curled into a ball and floating in the middle of the room and still chanting her mantra, with exasperation and a large dollop of guilt. This is getting to be a habit. Still, if his problem’s what I think it is, I can’t say I blame him. Face it, girl, you screwed up big time. Remembering the last time, Nabiki got out of bed and, rather than trying to talk Ranma down, simply caught that convenient foot again and pulled Ranma into her arms (carefully, also remembering getting knocked on her ass).
Ranma tried to tighten up even further. “Don’t touch me!”
“Why not?” Nabiki asked as gently as she could while walking back to sit on her bed with Ranma again in her lap. “You need help, and you’re my friend.”
Ranma uncurled a bit and looked up at her. “We’re still friends? Even after I … I forced … forced you …”
Bingo! Got it in one. Nabiki wiped some tears away from Ranma’s upturned face with a thumb and grinned down at her. “Hey, kiddo, we didn’t do anything that I didn’t want to do. If anything, my only problem is that it didn’t last long enough.”
Ranma stared. “Really? You mean it, you aren’t just tryin’ to make me feel better?”
“Every word,” Nabiki nodded. “Tell me, had you ever seen what I was wearing? What about the room we were in?”
Ranma shook her head. “No, I’ve never seen either of ‘em before.”
“Well, the lingerie I was wearing is over there in my wardrobe,” nodding to her right, “and that room was the king’s bedroom at the palace of Versailles. Last night wasn’t the first time I’ve been there in my dreams, either — just the best.” Nabiki gave a slight leer at Ranma and was heartened to see her cuddled friend blush a little. “I brought more to that dream than you did, and enjoyed every minute of it, so don’t go beating yourself up over it.”
Ranma shook her head. “Maybe you were willin’, but I was still out a’ control. I didn’t even think a’ what was happenin’ ‘til it was all over.”
“But you didn’t know what was happening,” Nabiki responded. “Now that you do, you should be able to control yourself, maybe even not join my dream.”
Ranma stiffened. “Ya mean it was my fault we were in the same dream?”
“Well, it certainly wasn’t anything I did,” Nabiki chuckled. “No, much as I’d like to be able to do that, I suspect it’s an aspect of whatever kind of nature spirit you are. Tonight, we find out if you can stay out of my dreams, or control yourself if you can’t.”
Ranma stared up at her. “You mean you still want me to sleep with you? But what if I can’t control myself?”
“Then we have another wonderful night,” Nabiki purred. “But as much as I’d like that, I doubt it’ll happen.”
Ranma blushed, and finally relaxed and uncurled enough to straighten a bit, laying her head on Nabiki’s shoulder. Nabiki rearranged her hold to keep her arms around the busty spirit without touching anything remotely sexual. For a time they simply sat, but finally Nabiki’s curiosity grew stronger than she could ignore. “Ranma, who aren’t you like?”
“Huh? What’re ya talkin’ about?”
“While you were floating up there, you kept repeating ‘I’m sorry, I’m not like him’. I figure the ‘I’m sorry’ was an apology, but who is ‘him”?”
“Oh, my pop,” Ranma responded nonchalantly.
“Your father is a rapist!?” Nabiki all but shouted.
“No, no! He is a womanizer, though. Half the money he steals or cheats out’a people goes to whores, what doesn’t go to fill his fat belly. He tries to get me to be just like him, too — tried to set me up with a whore as a ‘birthday present’ when I turned fourteen, an’ a couple a’ times since.” Ranma’s voice turned bitter. “ ‘Fore then, I didn’t even know when my birthday was, or how old I was.”
Nabiki had stiffened in outrage, and it was a few minutes before she trusted her voice. Finally she was able to ask, “Does your father have any good points, and why do you stay with that bastard?”
Ranma thought for a moment. “Well, he really is a good Martial Artist — some a’ his ideas for trainin’ are screwy, but he’s taught me a lot. And he really does believe in a Martial Artist’s duty to protect the weak. I’ve seen him drop a bag a’ loot to help people that needed it. ‘Course, he stole every yen on ‘em when they were safe, but they were safe.” She shrugged as she added, “An’ I stick with him because, well, where else can I go? Pop may be a lazy, greedy, lyin’, cheatin’, thievin’, womanizin’ waste a’ space, but he’s all I got.”
Nabiki’s arms tightened. “No, he isn’t, not any more. Now, you have me — and Kasumi too, though she may not show it through that China doll act of hers. We just need to figure out how to make that mean something.” Thoughtfully, “We’re too young to become your legal guardians ourselves, but maybe Dad …” Her voice died off in thought, then she shook herself. “But that’s for later, right now we need to figure out what we’re going to do with the rest of the day.”
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(Posted Fri, 10 Apr 2009 03:22)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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