Martial Arts Marriage Ceremony

Chapter 1: Critical Thinking

Another Ranma 1/2 story by Michelle Thatcher

Legal and intro stuff: This is a new project that I may or may not take any further. These characters are not mine. They belong to a lot of rich people with really high paid lawyers, so don't sell this story or use it for profit in any way. I'm not going to.

"Do you love me
Or do you not?
You told me once
But I forgot.

Ranma was discouraged.

It wasn't that he didn't like the uncute tomboy. It wasn't that at all. He really did like her. Of course, it had taken her almost dying and their almost getting married to make him realize it.

Funny how their almost wedding had galvanized his resolve in a way that their ordeal at Jyusendo had not.

Deity, but she had looked good in that dress!

That moment more than any other had helped him to banish the ‘Keep Akane at arms length' reflex back to the frightening and dark reaches of his primal insecurity. He knew now that more than anything else, he wanted her to be happy. He wanted to be with her. He had realized it when he'd seen the almost hidden disappointment in her eyes when her father had announced his decision to postpone the wedding. The funny thing was that he, too, had been disappointed. He wouldn't have admitted it at the time, but he had been surprised at how strongly that disappointment had gnawed at his heart.

He didn't want to wait any longer. He wanted to get married. He wanted to marry Akane. He wanted to do it now.

That was the root of his discouragement.

He was pretty sure that Akane would go along with it. He hadn't had the courage to talk to her about it yet, but after all this time, he thought that he actually understood what she'd been trying to show him all along. What her anger and her jealousy and her refusal to give up trying to cook him a decent meal and her little glimpses of shyness and embarrassment really meant.

She kinda sorta maybe liked him too.

She had as much as admitted it when they'd talked before they *didn't* get married. She'd said that she was willing to go through with it because he'd said that he loved her.

Of course, like an idiot, he'd denied saying anything of the sort and pushed her away again, justly incurring her sometimes-unjust wrath. But the point was still valid. She (for reasons he couldn't fathom) *liked* him. Maybe... maybe even... maybe even loved him.

The thought was electrifying. The thought was thrilling and wonderful and terrifying all at once.

Akane would go along with the wedding. He was pretty sure that that wouldn't be a problem once he got up the courage and the brain function to speak sincerely and intelligently with her about it. She wasn't the problem.

The problem was everyone else.

He wasn't *quite* naive enough to believe that all the people who had descended like a plague of locusts to destroy the first wedding attempt would be on their best behavior for a second one. Chances were good that they'd still be upset by the prospect of losing him or Akane (or both in the bizarre case of a certain Kendoist) once and for all. And chances were even better that they'd, once again, try to do something about it.

Of course, he'd never been able to prove that Mousse, or Ryoga, or Happosai had acted deliberately to sabotage the event, but he wasn't throwing out all his suspicions just yet either. The girls on the other hand... Well, it just hadn't been pretty.

He had two choices:

One: he could give up on the idea of getting married anytime soon and try to wait out his problems. This had the advantage of not hurting anybody too badly, at least not as badly as they would be hurt by being told "You're not the one that I love." It also had the disadvantage of uncertainty. Chances were good that he'd be waiting until he and Akane were both old and grey.
Two: he could find a way to:
1. Tell Akane how he felt
2. Ask her to marry him
3. Actually pull off a wedding ceremony without either one of them being kidnaped /killed /drugged /hypnotized and without allowing "things" to get so out of hand that the whole thing would once again be called off.

Neither prospect seemed very good to him.

And so, he sat. He was doing his best to keep his mind clear of other things and work on gaining enough focus to come up with a way out of his problems when there was a knock at on his door frame. He looked up to see Nabiki leaning through it. "This came for you," she said, holding a letter towards him.

"Come in," he said, reaching to take it.

Curious, she stood next to him as he pulled it out of the envelope. The yen signs in her eyes were *almost* but not quite invisible as she saw the characters on the outside fold. "Challenge" they said proudly. She made between thirty and forty thousand yen on a typical fight involving Ranma. More if she had advance notice.

Her scheming was interrupted when Ranma sighed loudly. Not just a little sigh, or a "Here we go again" sigh, but a real, honest to goodness, unhappy, almost depressed sigh. Nabiki frowned. That wasn't normal. He usually just shrugged at challenges and met them head on. What was getting him down? She didn't want him off during a fight. It would make the outcome too unpredictable. She bit her lip and calculated.

"Who's it from?" she finally asked.

"Mousse."

"What does he want?"

Ranma looked down at the letter unenthusiastically. "He wants to kill me for dishonoring his lovely Shampoo."

The flatness of his tone concerned her. This could be *very* bad for business. "So what are you going to do?"

He looked up at her apathetically. "Beat him up I guess."

"But you don't really want to?"

"‘Course not. I got nothin' against Mousse. Not really."

This was not the Ranma she knew. Where was his care-free enthusiasm? Where was his arrogance and fire? She studied him for a moment. Maybe it was just his situation. Mousse was a nice enough sort. Just a little dense at times. For that reason alone he and Ranma should be the best of friends. "You know what your problem is?"

Ranma's lips tightened. He knew exactly what his problem... No, his *problems* were. He didn't need Nabiki trying to capitalize off yet *another* fight that he wished would never happen. "Yeah. I'm a cold, thoughtless, money grubber who cares more about yen than I do about my friends or my pride," he growled. "No wait. That's *your* problem," He looked back down at the letter and sulked some more.

"Why is that a problem?" Nabiki asked, her eyes wide and innocent. Then she sobered, the money suddenly seeming less important than seeing Ranma's confident grin again. "All kidding aside, Ranma-kun, I don't like seeing you this unhappy. Let me give you some friendly advice. Your problem is that you just don't understand people." She put a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Think of it kind of like-" she paused, trying to think of a metaphor that would help Ranma grasp this concept. There was only one thing that would work for sure.

"Think of it kind of like martial arts. In a battle, you have to know your enemy. You have to get inside his skin; guess what he's thinking. Learning his strengths and weaknesses isn't enough. You've got to understand his motivation so that you can guess whether or not he wants to win more than you do, what he's going to do next, and why, and how he'll respond to what you do."

She leaned a little closer for emphasis. "If you understood what motivates Mousse, then you might find a way to make friends with him. All you've got to do is help him see that you two have common interests."

Suddenly Ranma was intrigued. "Common interests?" he asked.

"Look it up in the dictionary," she said as she headed for the door.

"Hey Nabiki," he called after her.

"Hmm?" she turned her head to look at him and he smiled.

"Thanks. That's good advice."

Nabiki smiled back. "Always glad to serve." She held out her hand. "That'll be five hundred yen."

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