Thanks a bunch for the feedback.  Please continue to C&C.
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Pleasure and Pain (tentative title)
a story by Dot
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Thoughts are denoted by 'single quotes'
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	Akane furiously stomped up the stairs, tears streaming 
from her eyes.

	"Stupid Ranma! Why can't he ever say something nice 
for a change?!?" Akane snarled as she remembered the 
strange smirk on Ranma's face when she punted him out of 
the house.  "That jerk!"

	Slamming the door behind her, she flopped down on 
her bed and wept into her sheets.  When she finally managed 
to calm down a bit, Akane got out her diary and began 
writing in her most recent fight with Ranma.

	About halfway down the page, Akane stopped.

	'Wait a minute...didn't something like this happen a 
few days ago?' She flipped back to the previous entry.

	While the exact nature of the argument was different, 
it ended the same way, with Akane punching or kicking 
Ranma into the air to land who knows where.

	Akane kept on reading back.

	'Another fight with Ranma...' she turned the page.  
'And again, yet another fight!'

	Ranma called her food toxic waste when she tried to 
cook.  Ranma said she was a clumsy idiot when she knit a 
sweater with disproportioned sleeves.  Ranma made fun of 
her bust size when her underwear was stolen by Happosai.  
And on and on it went.

	'It's almost like a pattern...Ranma would insult me, I 
would hit him, and things would be quiet for a few days...' 
she looked at the dates of the entries.  'And recently, this has 
been happening more often...'

	And then Akane remembered something else.

	"The iodine's being used up awfully fast," Kasumi had 
noted earlier.

	"Ranma's probably using it," Nabiki had replied.

	"But no one would use that much iodine in such a 
short time! It stings something horrible!"

	'Oh, God...' Akane rushed downstairs.

	"Why, hello, Akane!" Kasumi greeted cheefully.  "I'm 
so glad to see that you're not angry any more."

	"Onee-san, did you see which way I kicked Ranma?" 
Akane asked breathlessly.

	Kasumi pointed.  "I think it was toward the industrial 
area, but I'm not sure."

	Akane never ran faster in her entire life.


	Ranma opened his eyes.  His entire body throbbed 
with a dull ache, especially his left leg.  A long, ragged 
scrape ran down its length.

	Excellent.

	Ranma reached into his shirt to see if any iodine 
remained in the bottle he had 'borrowed' from the first aid 
kit.  A shake confirmed that about a third of it still remained.

	Perfect.

	Almost giggling with anticipation, Ranma fumbled 
with the bottle, nearly spilling it in his haste.  He tried to 
steady himself, but his hands shook as he unscrewed the 
bottle cap and poured some of the noxious liquid into it.  
Still shaking, he brought the cap over his leg.

	Drip.

	Pain.  Glorious, magnificent, burning pain.   Ranma 
smiled.

	Drip.

	Spilled a little too much that time.  Steady.

	Drip.

	The tips of his nails were turning brown.  He would 
have to wash his hands later.  With nice, hot, scalding water 
and lots of soap.

	Drip.

	What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger.  No 
pain, no gain.  The true mark of a martial artist.  His father 
had taught him that.

	Drip.


	Akane choked back a gasp when she finally found 
Ranma.  He was sitting--no, slouching--in a dirty, deserted 
alley, dripping something on his leg.  Akane didn't have to 
see the bottle next to him to know that it was iodine.

	What was even more frightening, though, was the 
look on his face.  It was a wild, estatic expression, like a 
drug addict who had just taken a hit.

	"Ranma," she managed to squeak out.

	For a few seconds, Ranma froze like a deer in the 
headlights.

	Then he looked up at her, his eyes desperate.

	"Help me," he whispered.  "I can't stop."

	He didn't have to ask twice.

	Akane hugged Ranma tightly.  "Oh, God, I'm so 
sorry...ohgodohgodohgod..."

	The iodine cap dropped from Ranma's limp fingers, 
and a relieved sob escaped his lips.


June 7
	Ranma went to see a psychiatrist.  Turns out that his 
self-mutilation was being caused by a severe form of 
depression.  Thankfully, though, the doctor said that all he 
needed was some medicine and lots of love.  Ranma's taking 
both regularly now.

	Ranma's entire body is covered with horrible scars.  
I'm quite certain, though, that the ones on his soul are much, 
much worse.  He tells me that he still has very vivid, 
realistic nightmares about bleeding to death.  I have to stay 
with him until he falls asleep and leave a nightlight on in 
case he wakes up.

	Uncle Genma doesn't rant and rave about his "coward 
of a son" anymore.  As soon as Aunt Nodoka found out 
about what happened, she marched over to our house and 
dragged Uncle Genma into the dojo.  I couldn't quite 
understand what was being said, but after that, Uncle Genma 
only talked when Aunt Nodoka spoke to him.

	A little while after that, Cologne came by and 
nullified Ranma's marriage to Shampoo.  She had the nerve 
to say, and I quote, "the Amazon Tribe has no need for the 
weak of mind."  Ranma secretly held hands with me during 
that.  He looked like he was about to cry.

	Ukyou and I have come to a truce.  She visits Ranma 
as often as she can.  Even though Konatsu covers for her 
when she's not there, he tells me that people have been 
reluctant to go to Ucchan's any more because of her 
association with Ranma.  As if Ranma's mental illness were 
contagious or something.

	Ranma's "problem" has been the talk of my 
classmates for a while now.  Even though I pretend not to 
hear their whispering, it still hurts.  I don't really blame 
them, though.  I can understand how they feel.

	I still can't believe how long it took me to realize what 
was going on.  I was so blinded by my anger that I shut 
myself in.  I even thought I hated Ranma for a while.

	I'll never be able to forgive myself for that.
---
Dedicated to Keener and others who have gone through 
those long, dark, and lonely nights.



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