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palabraasinnecesarias · 1 year ago

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phone calls

ao3 | ff.net

ship: ranma/akane words: 1,684

She came to find that she'll always love being a scholar, along with so many other things; the being-away-from-Ranma part was a lot harder than she had anticipated.

It was about to be eight, on a Wednesday, just as they had agreed. Akane stood next to the landline, glancing over at the clock with the anticipation that it would ring any minute now – or at least, it should. And yet, when it rung, the young woman couldn’t help but slightly jump, startled, before reaching over anxiously to hold against her ear.

Her grin widened when she answered it timidly, hearing his voice crisp through the phone, calling out to her so casually, “Tomboy, you’re on time.�� She couldn’t help but roll her eyes, as though he could see her, and her body visibly relaxed as she felt her shoulder slouch faintly.

“That’s my line,” she chuckled quietly, “considering that you’re calling me.”

“Are ya’ saying you stay waiting by the phone until I call?” His voice slightly muffled, and she figured it had to do mainly with the quality of the long-distance phone call, but that didn't change what he was saying to be untrue, and she knew so. His egotistic smirk penetrated through the landline, and she wanted to smack it off his face (and then maybe kiss it better).

“Ranma, did you call just to be a pest?”

“Tsk,” he hmphed, “and to hear ya’ voice.” Oh God, he probably didn’t have the slightest clue when he was being a charming man, did he? Akane’s grin shrunk into a small smile, shy and embarrassed to hear him say such words to her as she stood in the seemingly lonely common area of the residence hall. Her grip on the phone tightened as she hitched in a breath, feeling her lungs constrict themselves from breathing as she heard him laugh so clearly into her ear. “I’m hoping ya’ still missing me, ‘Kane?” Every goddamn day, if she were being frank.

“Do you miss me?” She challenged instead, her index finger now playing with the cord of the phone as an involuntary nervous tic, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, always finding herself liking the sound of his breathing against the phone.

Sometimes he didn’t call on Wednesdays, she just didn’t know when those days would be. But considering he was traveling about, it was understandable. She was finishing university; it was the perfect alignment as he searched for his cure, and she experienced the normality of what it was to not have Ranma around. She came to find that she’ll always love being a scholar, along with so many other things; the being-away-from-Ranma part was a lot harder than she had anticipated.

At the very beginning, the only time Akane actually talked to Ranma had been when she called home. Kasumi always picked up the call and after their “catch up”, she passed the phone around to whomever was around; coincidently, Ranma always seemed to be nearby. And if not, by the end of the string of greeting the family, Auntie Saotome would call and hand the phone over to her son.

She had honestly thought she wouldn’t hear from him after he broke the news about his foreseeable future as a nomad, but to her pleasant surprise, he did call. She had come to a halt at the scribble of a message by a dry erase marker on the whiteboard hanging at her door, the words Ranma will call Wednesday sending her in a whirl.

That first Wednesday she had sat by the landline like a teenaged girl waiting to get picked up for a date. She didn’t know if he’d actually call, but he did. And the Wednesday after that, with a spontaneous Friday or Tuesday occasionally that she welcomed just as much. Although sometimes she’d miss those phone calls, and she’d know when simple messages quickly jotted at her whiteboard appeared by her willing dorm mates. It wouldn’t say much, just things like hey tomboy with his name next to it, and it was enough to get her thinking about him all day.

That Wednesday he called promptly, always making sure not to miss it, considering she didn’t have a phone number to call like he did. “I’m flattered, actually,” she had teased, her voice bouncing at the back of his head, hearing him clear his throat.

“What about?” He inquired, and her smirk quickly turned into a smile.

“That you memorized my number.”

Tried and he tried to deny that it hadn’t been on purpose, he just had a good memory, really. But other than that, he really didn't’ have a choice. He’d called her so many times already, it was bound to happen; plus, the chances of not accidentally losing the scrap of paper with the jotted numbers were slim. Akane had simply allowed him to word-vomit his denial, unable to deny the jumble at the pit of her stomach as she asked, “Well, don’t stop calling, okay?”

He was quiet for a moment, momentarily afraid the connection might have been lost, but soon after she heard him say, “Okay.”

Their phone calls didn’t last long; twenty minutes being the maximum record. Ranma usually had to get going or hadn't had enough change to keep the minutes running. But even when they were short, they were sweet. He’d have just enough time to say that he didn’t know when it’d be the next time he’d be able to call, and that he missed her, without ever actually saying that he missed her because at the end of the day he was still Ranma Saotome. And so, she made sure to tell him for the both of them.

It had been three weeks since she had last heard from him. Home also hadn’t gotten any insight as to where he was, or when he’d be returning. She tried not to make it obvious each time she sat near the landline on Wednesday evenings, but everybody knew. And her whiteboard was always clean, with a marker attached next to it.

By the fourth week Akane hadn't expected him to call, but hopefully the following. She tried to convince herself that for the most part that his phone calls weren’t the highlight of her week, and instead distracted herself with studying for finals that would be coming up in the next couple of weeks. Her study group was a fun one; everyone was good at bringing something to the table, and she was rather great at gathering them in times in which everyone was available to meet. But that afternoon, almost everybody seemed to cancel at the last minute. She glanced at the only classmate that had already shown up to the coffee shop nearby, who smiled sheepishly at her.

“I guess we’ll try next time,” Akane offered kindly, her smile wide and vibrant as she began to gather her belongings.

“Or,” he cleared his throat, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly as he avoided her eyes momentarily, “we could hang out.”

Her wide smile softened, understanding what he meant. And so, she said, “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

“But we’re already here.” His voice was hopeful, enthusiastic even.

“I actually just remembered that I have something to do.”

“Oh.”

She winced at his dejected tone, still, she waved goodbye beginning to walk away, or rather trying. Because within the minute, he was sprinting behind her, “What about another time?”

Akane chuckled nervously, shaking her head again, the grip around the straps of her messenger bag tightening, “I really can’t.”

“Can I ask why? Are you seeing someone?”

“Well,” Akane inhaled, pondering her words briefly before she nodded timidly, “yes.”

“Oh.”

“Sorry.” Although, she wasn’t really sorry.

“Would you like to hang out as friends, maybe?”

Did he not get the hint? Even after she told him quite directly.

“Sorry pal,” Akane heard just as she felt a heavy weight lay atop her shoulders, “she's kinda my fiancée.” That voice. Like lightning, and with her heart tightening, the young woman turned around to find the unfaltering smirk of Ranma Saotome who was gazing down at her. And she probably should have allowed him to finish talking, but she couldn't help herself, and wouldn’t be apologizing at the way her arms didn’t waste time in swaddling themselves around his neck.

“What-what are you doing here?” she inquired, not really caring. Her voice almost cracked, finding herself having to take a deep gasp to breathe because his presence was such an utter shock she almost malfunctioned.

“Miss me, huh?” His voice was soft, and clear, and right against her ear as she nodded frantically. Was he an idiot? How did he not tell her he was visiting?

Her hold was strong, her hands hooked tightly as she inhaled deeply to take in the scent of him that she missed so much as his familiarity smacked her like a tidal wave she’d merrily drown herself in. His own hold mimicked hers around her back, pulling her in as she buried her face at the crook of his neck, not caring that she was probably crying and didn’t know how to stop, feeling rather stupid for being so sensitive. But he was there, with her, hugging her just as firmly.

It took her a moment longer than she’d believed, but when she finally pulled away, her cheeks stained, she took that moment to take in all his features through her hazy vision. Her slender hands pulled away to cradle his cheeks as her wet laughter filled the air, admiring his long eyelashes batting softly. His puffy fringe was longer now, midway of his nose bridge and she couldn’t help but push his hair away.

“Hey,” he continued to smirk, and she laughed again.

“Hi,” she replied. And maybe it was that she felt like crying again and didn’t want him to see her, but her arms easily wrapped him once again as she inhaled loudly.

“I’ll make sure to call before dropping by next time,” he tried to joke, and she only nodded eagerly.

“A phone call would be nice,” she said quietly, her eyebrows scrunching together at the way she took pleasure when his squeeze secured her hold, anchoring her down.

ao3 | ff.net

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