Well, here it is, my first fic, in both the traditional sense and in
the world of the FFML. This little piece was the first I wrote (and
one that inadvertently turned into a one-hour fic...42 minutes,
actually, including editing), and is also the first I'm exposing to
the big, bad world outside of my hard drive. I have others waiting,
and if this attempt doesn't end in my eventual mental breakdown, I
may work up the courage to send them, as well. Please send C&C
privately...but, _please,_ send C&C!
I know the subject matter is somewhat clich�d, so I will resort to
that time-honored excuse: "Be nice, it's my first try." <smiles
innocently>
Morning
A Ranma 1/2 Shortfic by Kristen Smirnov
Ranma 1/2 is the brainchild of Takahashi Rumiko, and I�m simply
leeching off her genius. Don�t sue, I�m a college student majoring in
art. Don�t have any money now, and with my major, I doubt I�ll have
any in the future, either.
-----
I made my bath water a little chilly today. I�ve been doing that,
lately. Letting myself get distracted, I mean, not drawing a cold tub.
I�m not quite sure why.
I glance at myself in the mirror as I walk past it. Grabbing my brush,
I return, forcing the bristles through the tangled mess. It used to be
harder, when my hair was longer. Despite that, I often wish I looked
like I used to. I�d sit in class and run my hand through my hair,
twirling the dark strands around a finger or two. I still try to,
sometimes - force of habit, I suppose - but am stopped short when my
hair does.
My hand clenches around the handle as I continue brushing; I�ve
suddenly realized we get our scores back today from the big exam.
Already, I know my score won�t be good enough. Oh, good enough for
Hinako-sensei, and good enough for Father, but not for me. I remember
classes back in junior high: Akane always got the best score. Akane
would always get the best score. But no one begrudged Akane for it,
because everyone knew how much Akane applied herself.
That was before I got to high school. Before I met Yuka and Eiji and
Akihiko and Taizo and every single other person who does better. I�m
working as hard as I ever did. Harder, probably. And I can�t do it. We
get our exams back, and I�m reminded of this fact: I can�t do it. I
can�t be the best anymore. No matter how much I apply myself, no
matter how much of that damned �potential� I strive for, my scores
won�t be praised. They�ll be appreciated for what strengths they have,
but not held up as an example. Not anymore.
And we have our meeting today for Girls� Kempo. I was elected
president unanimously last year, and have done a good job all
semester. But there�s talk. I hear it, even though they try to hide
it. Akane�s good...but we want the best female kempoist for president.
And that�s Ukyou. Akane�s good, but she�s not good enough for us, not
anymore.
I�ve spent my life working. Working on school, working on kempo,
working on extracurriculars, and I was good at it all. In junior high,
I was the best. And it was easy. And now I�m still working, but I
can�t do it anymore because GODDAMMIT there are people who�re so much
better than me and I can�t beat them no matter how hard I try and I�ll
never be able to and I�ll never again think I�m worth anything because
no else does either and what do they care about me and why does anyone
care and I CAN�T DO IT-
The face that meets me in the mirror shocks me. Eyes red and puffy,
with a single tear running down my cheek. Crying? I never let myself
cry. After all, Akane�s the stone-cold bitch, and she can�t show
emotion, right? Well, nothing but anger. That�s expected. But nothing
else. Not until bedtime, anyway, when I know no one can hear me. When
there�s no one but P-chan to see me in my shame. I lay there in my bed
and tell the ceiling my troubles. How I look at my scores, and realize
they won�t be good enough to get me into the school I wanted. How I
look in the mirror and see a face that doesn�t compare with Ukyou, or
Shampoo, or Kodachi, or even Kasumi or Nabiki. Or Ranma. How it�s more
than I can handle. But I have to keep going, because it�s what
everyone has come to expect. Everyone expects Akane to still do well
in school, and be a leader in activities, and keep up her kempo
training, and learn to do housework, and do everything else under the
sun. And I can�t disappoint them. Even when it seems like there�s no
way out, I can�t even allow myself the escape of THINKING about
swallowing a bottle of aspirin, for it would let too many people down.
I promised the girls I�d represent us well in the regional
competition, you recall. Mustn�t forget that. Can�t forget all my
duties.
And most of all, I tell the ceiling about my anger. Not at Ranma, or
my teachers, or Yuka, but at myself. For failing. And knowing I�ll
never again be as good as I want myself to be. No one but the ceiling
knows this, but the rage people think of as my temper flares are
really glimpses into my everyday world. That hell I live through and
I�m crying out from and no one pays attention and offers a hand to
escape from and I�m all alone and nobody cares. Why should they?
Akane�s not worth the effort...she�s not the best anymore.
Kasumi taps on the door, telling me it�s time to go. I set down the
brush and splash some cold water on my face, wiping away the redness.
Carefully, I assume the mask I wear each day, checking to make sure my
smile looks natural and my walk carefree. I jog down the hall, sliding
my feet into my shoes, and Ranma and I go off for another day of
school.
It�s only Tuesday.
-----
C&C is welcome, flames are not (as they serve no real purpose).
Mindless stroking of my ego, however, serves a very important purpose
and is thus always welcomed.
Comments can be directed to rndomname@aol.com