Hello all,
	I've finally gotten settled back in school, and I'm writing
again.  Mr. Wilde kindly reprimanded me for submitting a sloppy work, 
so I started fixing this.  Yes, it is a draft so C&C it to death. Heck,
bash it if you want - I'll garner something out of it (I hope).
	Forgive me if the spelling is bad or I go over 72 characters
a line.  Emacs might be cool, but it doesn't do much for fixing those
problems.
=======================
Michael Won <skeezy5@geocities.com>
=======================

1/2 Golden Pair
      by skeezy5

=======================

Ranma 1 / 2 etc. all belong to Rumiko Takahashi...

=======================

	I am Shiratori Azusa.  Together with Sanzenin Mikado, we were 
known as the Golden Pair.  Yesterday, we were the undefeated champions 
of the high school skating world.  Our skill and chemistry were long
hailed as the stuff of legend.  We thought we were unbeatable... 
	Yesterday, we were shown the hollowness of the pride which we had 
held in our abilities.  The gods may take vengeance upon mortals who do 
not know their place, but if it was our vanity that brought forth the 
wrath of heaven, its hand took the form of Saotome Ranma and Tendo Akane.  
It was almost poetic justice that we met them through my continual 
obsession with...
	But I must back up, for the tale to be told begins much further 
back than that...

@->-

	"Hey, Azusa, let's go to the ice skating rink."  Michiko grabbed 
my arm and started to pull me along.  Stumbling, I barely snagged my bag 
as she dragged me out of the classroom.
	"What's at the rink?"  I asked curiously.  
	"The new transfer student.  He's supposed to be really cute."  
Michiko grinned.  I sighed and followed her, knowing that she'd probably
make an absolute fool out of herself while fawning over this guy.  
Somebody had to look out for her, and I guessed it was me.
	When we arrived there, the rink was already full of girls, and we 
could only find a seat some distance away from the ring.  I pulled out a
book and began reading, not interested in ogling some guy, but Michiko 
insisted that I watch.  
	It was then that I first saw him.  He was tall, handsome, and 
suave, but I didn't care about any of that.  There were many guys like 
that.  What caught my eye was his movement on the ice.  It was as if 
they had created the word 'graceful' to describe it.  He was... beyond 
beautiful.  
	Watching him, it was as if the world had been isolated to me, him, 
and my heart beats.  
	"Hey, Azusa, you're blushing."  Michiko's comment broke me out of 
my trance, but it was too late.  I had already bitten into the apple.

@->-

	Love?  Not quite.  But there was something magical about him. 
Sanzenin Mikado.  That name obsessed my every thought and dream for the 
following weeks.  I also started paying more attention to my appearance, 
my clothes, my hair.  I had always been told that I was pretty, but that 
day, looking in the mirror at my shoulder length brown hair, my sweater 
and jeans, I felt inadequate.  How could I - such a plain, uncute girl -  
even dream of being at his side?  I felt unworthy.  Unworthy of him.

@->-

	The rink seemed even larger, now that it was empty.  The 
competition had ended hours ago, and everybody had gone home.  Mikado 
had won, of course, out-shining all the other boys from the region.  I 
had sat in the back, my eyes fixed on him alone the whole time.  As he 
left, I tried to get close to him, maybe catch his eye, but there was no
way to get through his Fan Club.  
	I had always been shy, but with him, I could not even get a chance
to talk to him.  Though we were in the same homeroom, there would always
be a flock of girls around him, and I could never  get his attention.  All 
I could do was sit at my desk and stare at him, the teacher's words 
falling on my ears like some foreign language.
	Pulling the laces tight, I stepped onto the ice.  I hadn't ice 
skated since early in my elementary school years, when my mother had 
forced me to.  I had hated it.  Trembling, I steadied myself against the
wall and took a few shaky steps on the ice.
	Here.  Here was where Mikado had stood after his victory.  Here 
was where he had kissed that girl in his Fan Club.  My heart burned with
that memory, the dark viper of jealousy coiling itself around my heart.
Why?  What made her so special?  Why should he show his affections to 
her?  It was not that he loved her, for she was not the first one.  He 
had shown his affection to many, many girls, and never twice to the same
one.  But why not me?  I would've given almost anything to have been in 
her place.
	Pushing off the wall, I slid a few meters before I stumbled and 
almost fell.  The only thing that stopped me was an arm that caught me 
around the waist.  Flustered by my near fall, I was further shocked to 
see that the arm belonged to none other than him.  
	"Mi... Mikado."
	"Hello there.  You're in my class, aren't you?"
	I nearly swooned at that point, discovering that he had noticed 
me.  Not trusting my voice, I nodded.  Something about him seemed 
different; so different, that for a moment, I thought I had fallen, and
the figure before me was merely a figment of my imagination.  He seemed 
almost... vulnerable.
	"Shiratori Azusa, right?"  
	I nearly swooned a second time, finding out that he knew my name.
Glad that he was still holding me, as my legs would have given out from
under me otherwise, this time I worked up my courage and squeaked out, 
"Ye... Yeah."
	"You should pay more attention when you're skating.  A delicate 
girl like you could really hurt herself by falling."  He skated back to 
the rink wall and gently put me down.  It was dark in the rink, the 
lights turned off hours ago, but the ice seemed to emit a strange glow - 
a glow which was reflected in Mikado's eyes.
	Realizing that I'd been staring into his eyes for sometime, I 
blushed and looked down at my skates.  I felt self conscious, wearing a 
baggy sweatshirt and sweatpants.  I felt so... plain.  Not wanting to lose
this chance though, I wracked my brain for something to say.  "Uh... So 
do you come here this late often?"
	Mikado pushed off and glided across the ice a bit, but never too 
far.  "Yes.  The ice is where I truly feel at home, and whenever I am 
troubled or lonely, I come here.  Like tonight."  
	"Lonely?"  I asked, shocked that the object of my adulation 
could actually be touched by such emotions.
	He did not respond to me but merely smiled.  Then, he broke into a
dance across the ice.  He was as beautiful as ever, but something seemed
wrong, missing.  It was only after a few minutes that I realized he was 
skating in the fashion of a pair, of a team.  I could see every move, 
spinning with his imaginary partner, throwing her up in the air, catching 
her...  Coming to the finale, he held his imaginary partner out at an arms 
length, both of them bowing to the audience.
	My claps echoed through the empty rink, keeping beat with my heart
as it pounded in my chest.  Once he was near enough, I asked, "So you 
haven't found a partner yet?"
	"Singles skating is a fight with one self.  It requires the 
learning of skills, the training of the body, and the battle with one's 
mind.  It is almost a martial art.  Pair skating, however, is different.  
It requires that two people work constantly to change and adapt to fit the 
pattern.  It is the difference between building a monolith and weaving a 
beautiful tapestry.  I am undefeated in singles skating, but have not found 
a girl who can match me in pair skating."  The look of longing in his face 
was undeniable, a hunger which seemed to be unquenchable.  I began to 
realize the depth with which he pursued perfection on ice.
	"What... What's it like?  Skating?"
	"Do you want to see?"  Without waiting for my answer, he picked me 
up and slid out onto the ice again.  His strong arms carried me without 
effort, and the sensation was closer to flying than to anything else.  I 
had seen an American movie, Superman, when I was younger.  I felt like Lois 
Lane from that movie, floating through the sky in the arms of Superman.  
Finally, we came to a stop, right back where we had started, and he put me 
down.  
	"Wow...  That was...  incredible."  The word seemed so inadequate 
to describe the feeling, but that was the best I could come up with.
	"Would you like to learn?  I could teach you a bit."  
	There was no way I could refuse.

@->-

	If he had only owned my heart up until that night, Mikado gained 
mastery over me in entirety at that point - mind, body, and soul. I felt 
that I had seen the real Mikado, past all the flair and bravado.  I had 
seen the man who hungered after perfection, and I felt that I knew him. 
It was not so much that I had fallen in love with him that night.  No, 
what I realized was how much he needed to be loved, to be cared for
in his unrelenting chase.  And I dared to hope that I could provide 
that caring and affection. 
	My mother was surprised when I asked for money to buy a whole new 
wardrobe, but she didn't mind.  In fact, she was relieved, as she had
always worried that I was too singlemindedly absorbed in my studies and 
didn't pay enough attention to being 'cute'.  I wanted to dress better, 
become more stylish.  I wanted to become at least a little bit more worthy 
of Mikado.
	Of course, he didn't seem to notice the change.  In fact, he never 
showed any interest in me, but I didn't mind - at least, not too much.  I 
felt that I shared something with him that none of the other girls could.  
We met again for many nights after that, and he taught me to skate.  I 
improved quickly under his tutelage, and as my skill grew, I felt that 
the small bond we had formed that night also grew.

@->-

	"Hey Azusa, did you hear me?"
	"Huh?"  I looked up and saw Michiko staring at me worriedly.
For a moment, I wondered why she wasn't in her seat, three rows behind
me, but quickly remembered that it was lunch time.  "Uh... sorry.  I was 
thinking."
	"Don't feel bad that you didn't do so well on the last test.  
The material was hard."  Michiko reached over and squeezed my hand
reassuringly.  
	I smiled back at her weakly, but grimaced inwardly, knowing that 
it was stuff I had already mastered last summer.  It wasn't that I didn't 
know the material, I had just been...  distracted.  "So what were you 
saying?"
	Michiko sighed.  "I was talking about Mikado's new girl.  Its
Sayo."
	"Sayo?"  I repeated after Michiko, trying to sound disinterested
as yet another stake was driven into my heart.
	"You know, in 3-E?"  
	I knew who Sayo was.  Heck, everybody did.  She was the most
pretty, stylish, and popular girl at school.  She was also an airhead
to boot.  In fact, most of Mikado's *conquests* were that way.  It was 
almost as if he went after them because he knew that there was no 
possibility for a long term relationship...
	I felt the turmoil rise in me again, but tried to ignore it.
My efforts to look better had been quite successful, as the number
of guys showing interest in me had jumped by more than tenfold.  Even
now, a number of them were almost leering at me.  None of it mattered to 
me, of course, as Mikado didn't even seem to acknowledge my existence 
when we weren't on the ice...
	"Mikado..."  As I breathed his name, barely audible even to 
myself, I saw him walking in the courtyard with Sayo.  Though he was
as graceful as ever, he almost seemed shackled, not being on ice.  He 
walked along coolly, almost ignoring Sayo as she bubbled cheerfully 
beside him.
	"So how long do you think they're going to last?"  Michiko asked 
me, having followed my gaze.

@->-

	They broke up in two weeks, the longest Mikado had been together
with any one girl.  Why did he always go after such shallow girls?  Each
day, I was always tormented by my insignificance in his life.  But if that 
in of itself was unbareable, that he would pursue girls of the type that I 
detested so much...
	I watched as the mirror shattered against the wall, the vacant, 
cute smile I had pasted on my face fracturing with its many pieces.  The 
temptation still threatened to overwhelm me, the whispers trying to 
convince me that I should let myself submerge into that empty shell of
'cute-ness'...
	I steeled myself, reminding myself how self-destructive that
path would be.  Even if I gained his attention for a short amount of
time, it would be inevitable that he would toss me aside, just as he had 
with so many other girls.  Though I would have thrown myself into that 
opportunity a few months ago, it was different now.  The rapport I was 
building with him...  If I were to ever risk the small, fragile 
relationship I had with him, I would make sure that it would be with him 
as mine to keep, not with me as his to throw away.

@->-

	"Hey, Michiko, I really need to go now."  I glanced at my watch 
again, desperate to get out of there.  My friends had insisted on 
throwing me a farewell party when they had found out that I was moving 
to America, and so we were at Michiko's place.
	"Huh?  Why?  Its only 10 o'clock.  Your flight tomorrow isn't 
until noon, right?  You can hang out longer!  I'm sure your parents 
won't mind."  Michiko frowned.  
	Though I felt bad lying to her, my best friend since childhood, I 
had an appointment to keep, and I was already late.  "I need to finish a 
bit of packing.  You know how it is, the last minute rush."  
	"Aww...  All right.  I'll see you tomorrow at the airport, okay?"
	"Okay, see you."  With that, I rushed out of her house and caught 
a cab.  I was supposed to meet Mikado at school in fifteen minutes for 
our final skating lesson.  Watching the street whiz by, the realization 
entered my mind that it would be the last time I saw this street for 
years, but that realization passed out of my mind as quickly as it came. 
My mind filled with thoughts of Mikado alone.
	When the cab stopped, I pressed a wad of bills into the driver's 
hands and ran out without getting the change.  I raced over to the rink, 
relieved that I was only ten minutes late.  Patting my hair down into 
some semblance of order, I stepped through the doors and walked down to 
the rink.
	Mikado was already there, of course, practicing.  I stopped at the 
edge of the ice and stared at him for a long time, but this time, my 
mind was only half on what he was doing.  I ran through the list again 
in my mind and hoped that the conversation would happen as I'd planned, 
no, fantasized it.  Finally, seeing that I wasn't stepping on to the 
ice, Mikado came to a stop in front of me.  "What's wrong?"
	"I...  I'm leaving tomorrow for America."  He remained silent, 
gazing at me curiously.  I continued.  "This is our last lesson."
	He finally responded at that.  "That's too bad.  You've learned 
much from me, but you could've improved much more with time.  Even more 
if you'd concentrated more on skating while you practiced."
	I blushed at that, knowing what I had been distracted so much by.  
"I just wanted to say...  I enjoyed our lessons a lot, and I promise 
I'll practice skating every day when I get there..."  
	"That would be good."  Hearing the flatness of his voice, I almost 
wanted to cry.  Wasn't he even going to say that he'd miss me?  Was our 
bond so shallow?  "You have much potential.  You may become a great 
skater with a lot of practice."
	"You're just saying that."  My emotional roller coaster took 
another turn, returning to a high with the simple compliment.  
	"No.  I am glad that my first pupil was so talented."
	Perhaps that was why.  Was it because he looked upon me as a 
student that I never felt any warmth from him?  My feelings were torn, 
glad on one hand that I was special to him in my own way, but sad at the 
same time that I was nothing more than that, a student.  
	In that moment of uncertainty, the resolve I had built up began to
dissolve.  The script I had so carefully prepared for myself evaporated 
from my memory as the small measure of confidence I had garnered wavered 
and fell apart.  Even though I was leaving the country in less than 24
hours, I could not bring myself to risk the little that I had.  No, it
would be better to try and preserve it.  "Will... Will you remember me?"
	He paused for a moment, and something imperceptible flashed 
through his eyes.  He started to say something, but then stopped. After 
looking at me for a while again, he finally said, "I will."

@->-

	San Francisco was a nice town, and there were enough Japanese 
stores and people for me not to feel too homesick.  While I was there, 
I felt lonely for different reasons.  Perhaps it was because I felt that 
I had left a vital part of my life back in Tokyo.  No, that was exactly
the reason.  I felt lonely because I felt that without Mikado, my life 
had no meaning.
	It took two years for me to convince my parents, but finally, 
they gave into my begging, and I moved back to our house in Tokyo.  I 
had grown much as a skater during that time, and as I anxiously waited 
for the plane ride home to end, I felt that Mikado would be proud of me.
	A small part of me had hoped that I would be able to rid myself
of all the emotional baggage before returning home.  Part of me believed
that I had.  That part of me believed in the new person that I had become,
the confident, pretty, outgoing girl that my stay in America had molded me 
into.  It was that part of me that told me I should tell Mikado how I
felt, and it was that part of me which assured me that I was strong enough
to weather the consequences, no matter what they be.

@->-

	I watched as the bus drove off, cresting the hill and going back 
towards the city.  Standing at the bus stop, I fingered the letter in my 
hands again, the culmination of all my feelings, thoughts, and longings 
for the last two years.  I had thought much about this encounter and had 
written out what I wanted to say to him, not entirely trusting myself to be 
able to voice all of those words.
	The breeze ran its fingers through my hair, and once more, I 
noticed how weird it was to have short hair again.  I had grown it out 
during my stay in America, but had cut it before my return, making 
myself look just as I had on the day I had left him.
	A few long minutes passed, and I saw another bus coming.  My watch 
showed the time to be five minutes before six, the time when Mikado 
usually came home.  As the bus pulled up the hill, I felt my body grow 
tense with excitement, just as it had for the last six buses.  As it 
slowed to a stop, I saw a tall figure approaching the front of the bus 
to get off.  Was it him?
	A familiar figure stood at the top of the steps as the doors swung 
open.  I felt my whole life up until then coalescing for this moment, as 
if I had lived to get here.  As he stepped down, out of the bus, his 
gaze swept up to look at me.
	And then he looked away.  Turning, he put his arm around the girl 
that had stepped off after him and walked past me without sparing me 
another glance.  I stood there, the words I had not been able to say two
years ago still held in my hands.

@->-

	No, it wasn't unexpected that he'd be with another girl.  It was
who he was.   He craved the adulation and worshiping , and there was no 
reason to expect that he would've changed while I was gone.  In fact, it 
would have shocked me if the situation had been otherwise.  That was not 
the thing that had stopped me from giving him the letter.
	He did not recognize me.  
	He did not remember me.  
	In Dostoyevsky's novel, "Crime and Punishment", there is a topic
which is oft persued - why Svidrigaylov killed himself after his rejection
by Miss Raskalnikov.  People tend to agree that it is because when faced
with final rejection and forced to let go, he was left empty.  She had been 
the central facet of his life, his goddess, his goal, his obsession.  His 
existence outside of her had been practically nil.  So when he finally had 
to let go, there was nothing left in his life.  He had imploded, unable
to face the world without the support that his singlemindedness had given
him.
	I always disagreed with this.  Oh, the analysis was correct.  He
was left empty, but that was not the reason he ended his life.  A person
with the willpower to become so obsessed could deal with it by creating a
substitute to support oneself with.  One could do so by losing oneself in 
the absolute depths of one's darkest desires - whether this be revenge,
debauchery, or whatever.  Svidrigaylov merely killed himself because he was 
afraid of the monster he would become.
	I had always feared being insignificant to Mikado more than anything
else.  There was nothing left for me to fear now.

@->-

	As they called out my name, I raised my hand and waved to the 
crowd.  I watched as my Fan Club went wild, the boys cheering mindlessly 
for me.  Flicking my head in a way that showed off my long tresses, I
winked at them, illiciting an even wilder response.
	I turned to look at the other girls, bored with manipulating
the boys in the crowd.  In fact, bored with the whole day in general.  
Even before the judges had put out the scores, I had known I was the 
best.  There had been no other girl who matched me in skill, style, or 
beauty on the rink today, and they were supposedly the best that the 
region had to offer.  Now, they all knew I was the best.
	I saw the jealousy in the eyes of some of the girls, respect in 
others, but all of them acknowledged that I was better.  I stared back 
at each of them until they averted their gazes, the vapid look that had
masked my face replaced with one of haughtiness.  With a thin smile, I 
watched as some of them approached me, but instead of taking their 
congratulations, I merely turned away and headed for the changing rooms.  
After all, their approval or disapproval meant nothing to me.
	As I entered the hallway, I was mobbed by a flock of boys.  I
giggled again coquettishly, basking in the attention.  Walking among my
Fan Club was an interesting experience.  I felt like Moses walking 
through the Red Sea.  Though I was surrounded on all sides, they easily 
parted out of my way as I moved on towards the changing room.  
	As I rounded the corner, I saw him standing in front of the door.  
Though he was looking idly out the window, I knew it was me he had come 
for.  For a moment I felt an old, familiar feeling rising in my heart, 
but I squeezed it back into the deep void which it had crawled out from.  
Finally, reaching the door, I turned the handle, pretending not to have 
noticed him.
	"Azusa."  That same cold, flat voice called out my name.
	For a moment, I was tempted to ignore him, to leave him.  After 
all I had accomplished, did I really need him?  I answered, "Yes..."
	"I am Sanzenin Mikado.  I saw you skate today.  You are very 
good."  I felt the jealousy emanating from my fans, but Mikado was 
unfazed by it.
	"I know."  I looked up at him, my best 'bored and impatient' look 
on my face.
	"There is a pair skating tournament coming up in two months.  Only 
you are good enough to skate as my partner."
	I cocked my head to one side, the look on my face becoming one of 
even greater ennui.  "What of it?"
	"Be mine."  Once upon a time, those words would've made me weak at 
my knees, my heart flutter, and my head feel light.
	There was no way I could refuse.

@->-

	And so we were the Golden Pair.  From then on, he needed me as 
much as I needed him.  We were each one half of a pair, yet never a 
whole.  The fury with which I threw myself into our skating matches 
matched his obsession with perfection.  The fury born of hatred for all 
the other couples.  Stepping on the ice, I could always see the caring 
and closeness between them.  And I hated that thing they shared which 
I could never have.  And so I set out to destroy them.
	When I had suggested the 'Good Bye Whirl', Mikado merely looked 
upon it as a tool.  I had looked upon it as revenge.  If I couldn't have 
it, nobody else would.

@->-

	"Got it?!  Akane is my fiancee!  Lay a lip on her and I'll kill 
you!"  Ranma yelled.  As I heard those words, I felt the rage beginning 
to build up within me again, and I knew where this would be heading.
	"Your fiancee, huh?  Such bonds are fragile.  And I will do all in 
my power to shatter those bonds!"  Mikado's smug words gave me the 
signal.  We would tear them apart as we had torn apart so many others.  
	The next few minutes passed in a surreal deja vu as we entered 
into a well practiced routine.  I almost felt as if I'd taken a step 
back and become a mere observer, the angry shade controlling my body 
smoothly snagging Ranma and Akane into the 'Good Bye Whirl'.
	As we spun furiously, I heard the exchange between Ranma and 
Akane.  Even as she screamed out at him to let go, he refused.  A long 
forgotten feeling struggled against its bond within me, listening to them.  
Though I brought it back under control once more, that small slip was 
enough for me to lose my concentration, and I let go of Ranma's legs.
	The passionless observer gone from my body, I cringed, watching 
the two of them flying towards the wall.  As they neared, however, Ranma 
somehow flipped in midair, and took the brunt of the impact.  As they 
fell to the ice, only one thing caught my eye.  They never let go of 
their hands.
	The match continued as the Furinkan side switched its pairs, but 
for me, it was over.  My body still reacted, instinct and habit taking 
over, but I was done, defeated.

@->-

	Yesterday, we, the Golden Pair, lost.  But more importantly, the 
'Good Bye Whirl' was foiled.  I had believed Mikado.  I had believed 
that to reach the perfection that he sought, skill and prowess were all 
that mattered.  I was wrong.  The love and trust between Ranma and Akane 
survived us.  That which I had given up for Mikado was that which 
destroyed us.  
	We could reclaim our title as champions easily.  After all, it had 
only been a fluke which had defeated us.  But it does not matter to me 
any more.  I have seen the truth.  No matter how good we are, no matter 
how hard we work, there is something out there that is greater than us.  
I am Shiratori Azusa.  We are no longer the Golden Pair.
	Am I over him?  Only time will tell.  Goodnight, Antoinette.

=======================
[Author's Notes]

	This is a combo of watching Wang Kar Wei's "Fallen Angels", 
watching that sad DoCo video, and hearing the remark, "Azusa is 
shallow."  Gather your own conclusions.
	In case you're wondering, I discarded a lot of the Anime
characterization.  It not because I believe the Manga to be necessarily
"more correct".  It just suited my purposes to have a slightly less
ditzy and more vicious Azusa.