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"I don't have any green ink," Sayuri apologized as she handed her friend a pen. "But since you're not really sending it, it shouldn't make much of a difference."
Akane tried to smile, really she did, but her heart just wasn't in it. She knew she couldn't keep stalling forever, and she had accepted the dare—but why—why had she agreed to go through with it? Taking a deep, calming breath, she turned at last to the blank sheet of paper that lay before her, the paper she realized now that she looked closer, which wasn't quite blank.
Unamused, she narrowed her eyes. They had to be joking. As if the task before her wasn't degrading enough!
There, across the very top of the page was a splattering of tiny hearts, the word LOVE emblazoned prominently in fancy English script in a way clearly meant to draw the eye. She lifted her head to glare at her friends, her lips drawn into a tight, thin line.
Sayuri and Yuka laughed at her expression, obviously enjoying their friend's discomfort. "It's the only paper we could find," Yuka shrugged innocently.
Sure it was, Akane glowered, turning her attention back to the sickeningly sweet paper. She tried to push her annoyance to the back of her mind, tried once again to focus on the task at hand.
A love letter to Ranma.
Honestly. The thought alone was repulsive. Even now, her hand refused to go anywhere near the page, no doubt as disgusted by the very idea as she was. Besides, if Ranma ever found out, the stupid jerk would certainly take it the wrong way, and the last thing he needed was an even bigger, more inflated ego; that, and she didn't even want to think about the consequences should her father or Mr. Saotome get their hands on it first. Or worse, she thought with a shudder, Nabiki.
It would take more than a few measly yen to get her out of that nightmare!
Still, resigned to her fate, Akane sighed. She had agreed to play the game knowing the potential risks—and her pride, her word of honor—neither would allow her to back down from a challenge. Especially not this. Not something they expected her to fail at.
And there was no real harm, not really. The second she completed the dare, she had every intention of tearing the letter up and wiping the memory from her mind entirely. If necessary, she'd even swear them all to secrecy. After all, she couldn't allow something like this to get out!
Feeling slightly more confident and more determined than ever to complete the task, Akane put pen to paper, and thinking seriously for a moment, began to write. Her head was bowed low over the page, her expression one of intense concentration as her friends watched her closely, eager to see what masterpiece she'd unveil.
Before long her head shot up, a triumphant smile her face. "Done," she announced, holding the paper out before her proudly.
It was short, sweet, and to the point.
She nodded appreciatively, her eyes once again admiring her work.
Ranma,
I don't really hate you. Well, not much, anyway.
Signed, Akane
"That was a lot easier than I thought," she grinned. Confident, she handed the paper over to her friends and leaned back on her arms, satisfied with a job well done.
Her friends looked at the paper and then each other, and shaking their heads, frowned. "Akane, this isn't a love letter," Yuka said with a sigh. "Actually, I don't know what this is."
Sayuri nodded as she handed the paper back. "Try again," she instructed. "And this time be honest. It's not like he's going to see it."
"But I was honest," she protested.
Sayuri laughed dryly as Yuka groaned.
"We know Ranma isn't the greatest catch," Yuka replied, patting her friend's shoulder comfortingly. "But we all know you've fallen for the guy. Though none of us are quite sure why." Her statement was met with various nods of approval while some voiced their agreement.
Akane started to protest vehemently but was quickly cut off. "We graduate in a week," Yuka interrupted, continuing, "and as your friends, naturally, we're worried about you. It's already been three years since Ranma moved here, and you guys have made absolutely no progress. If you don't make a stand, and soon, you might lose him for good."
Akane blushed at that, and laughed. "And that's a bad thing?" she asked.
"Not really," Sayuri replied, only to have Yuka jab her lightly with her elbow.
"Of course it is," she insisted. "If you're unhappy, we're unhappy."
"Fine then," Akane muttered, reluctantly admitting their hearts were in the right place. "If it's that important to you, I'll rewrite the dumb thing." Retrieving the paper and pen from her two best friends, she crossed out the few lines she'd already written and stared down at the page intently, approaching it like she would a scroll containing a rare Anything Goes marital arts technique.
Yet no matter how long or how hard she stared, nothing came to her.
Finally, afraid she'd be stuck sitting there forever, she scribbled something down quickly.
Ranma,
I might actually kind of like you. Then again, I might not. Oh well, I guess we'll never know.
Cordially, Akane
Feeling ridiculous, she handed the revised letter to her closest friend, silently praying they'd grow tired of this silly game and let her off the hook. The look Sayuri threw her way after skimming the page told her there was no such luck.
Holding the paper out to her, Sayuri said, "Try harder."
For the hundredth time that night, Akane wondered why she had agreed to come to this sleepover in the first place. Chewing on the tip of her pen, she began to brain storm in earnest, not about to let some stupid letter get the best of her.
What did she feel for Ranma, anyway?
She knew he could be a jerk sometimes, and he was often insensitive and thoughtless, but he had to have some good qualities. All she had to do was list as many of those as she could think of and then make it sound like she admired him for them. Isn't that what most girls with silly crushes did? Not that she had a crush, mind you, but if that's what it would take to make this nightmare end, to win, she'd do it!
Feeling much more confident, once again, she began to write.
Ranma,
You can be nice sometimes, and you're a really great decent martial artist.
And strong too. Physically, anyhow. And you... you...
The pen, for a moment, stopped moving across the page and Akane stared at it in surprise.
Oh no, she was drawing a blank. What else was there?
With stubborn determination, she bent closer to the paper and wrote:
And you never give up.
Again she paused.
So don't ever change.
Yours truly, Akane
There. Perfect.
Holding it out before her, she carefully reread her work of art, only to have her face fall as disappointment washed over her briefly. Actually, it was far from perfect. There was still something missing, something that left her feeling hollow and empty.
Crossing out her closing signature, she quickly added a few more lines—important, necessary lines.
So don't ever change.
Yours truly, Akane
Although you could be a bit nicer to me, you know.
And in case you're curious, being a "man among men" doesn't include hitting on every girl you come in contact with. In the very least, you should be putting up more of a fight whenever they try to grab you. I mean, you're a martial artist, aren't you? You expect me to believe you can't get out of one little hug despite all those special techniques you've supposedly mastered?
And honestly! How can Shampoo accidentally end up soaking wet on your futon—naked!—without you knowing? Do you think I'm an idiot, Ranma?
But aside from all that, don't change.
One more thing: about my cooking. You know, you can't expect me to get any better if you continue to insult me or run away every time I ask you to taste it. All I'm saying is that you should stop being such a baby about it, and suck it up like a man.
But other than that, I think you're great. Really.
Though a few improvements couldn't hurt.
Love, Akane
"There!" she said happily, handing the finished product to Yuka. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised," she told them. She waited several minutes as they perused her letter, and leaning back on her elbows, waited for the praise to begin.
Hey, wait a minute . . . were they laughing?!
"Akane," Yuka said between giggles, tearing her eyes away from the paper. "This is the worse love letter I've ever read."
Sayuri nodded her head in agreement, and quickly handed the letter off to the others. "Really, what were you thinking? Did you honestly expect us to believe this could even qualify as a love letter? You start insulting him halfway thru, and even tell him all the things he can improve upon."
"I didn't tell him everything he could improve," Akane huffed, crossing her arms against her chest. "Just a few suggestions."
That only succeeded in making her friends laugh harder. Feeling silly and embarrassed, she immediately snatched back the letter. "It's not that bad," she muttered. "You try thinking of something nice to say about that dumb pervert. Besides, the word love was in there. Didn't you see how I signed it?"
"Simply tacking the word on at the end doesn't mean a thing," Yuka informed her, waving the comment aside.
"Of course," Sayuri added quickly, "if you'd like to forfeit this challenge, we'd be happy to make up a more fitting one for you," she said with a smile. She knew her friend well enough to predict just what her reaction would be.
And Akane didn't disappoint.
Her mouth fell open at that, and she sat up straighter, her eyes bright with determination. Her? Quit?! NEVER!
"No, no," she said earnestly. "I can do it! You just watch!"
Yuka rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. "This could take awhile, girls. Why don't we let Akane concentrate on her challenge while we continue the game, shall we?"
Her suggestion was met with various shrugs and several, "sure, why nots" though some looked more interested in watching Akane struggle to write her love letter. In fact, two or three of them were already placing bets, trying to determine how many more attempts it would take their short haired friend to complete her task.
Akane pushed up the sleeves of her shirt, and standing up, looked at her friends with resolve. "Don't worry," she promised them, clutching the pen and paper tightly in her hand. "I won't let you down."
Moving to a quieter corner of the room where she could concentrate, she laid down on the floor, trying to find a comfortable position. After a few minutes she could hear her friends continuing the game across the room, the standard question of truth or dare making its way around the circle. Ignoring them, she grabbed a new sheet of paper and settled down to write.
This had to be good. She couldn't take the embarrassment of yet another failed attempt. And what was so hard about writing a love letter to her fiancé, anyway?
She almost laughed aloud at that.
In the few years they'd lived together, their relationship had been many things, but easy was not one of them. Why did she expect this time to be any different?
Shaking her head, Akane silently berated herself. That was her problem—all that negative thinking. All she had to do was write honestly, nicely, what she felt, and if nothing came to mind . . . lie. It wasn't like they'd know the difference.
But where to begin. . .
To her surprise, the answer came rather easily.
She may always argue the contrary, but there were some innocent moments the two of them had shared—moments, infrequent though they were—that Akane had secretly come to cherish all the same.
Like yesterday.
When Ranma had carried her over the rooftops.
Even now, she could remember perfectly how it had felt: the way her heart had beat just a little bit faster, her cheeks burning with the realization of their closeness. But mostly she remembered his warmth. The safety and comfort she felt in those few moments it took him to carry her away, the sounds of his other fiancées fading into the distance, leaving only the sound of the wind and his heart.
It had been nice, actually. Much nicer than she had allowed herself to admit at the time, especially since she'd still been angry with him for interrupting her fight in the first place.
But the fact that he had protected her, not them, that had to mean something, didn't it?
Taking a deep breath, Akane grasped the pen tightly, the look in her eyes one of renewed determination. It was time to face their relationship head-on—she'd never have another opportunity like this one, after all, away from the prying eyes of their families and various suitors. Not to mention Ranma himself.
Besides, he'd never read this anyway.
She hardly even realized that this time when she started to write, the words came easily, flowing from her pen like magic.
Ranma
It's strange, isn't it? The way we always fight and call each other names? We've been denying our engagement for as long as I can remember, and yet the funny thing is, I've never believed in anyone as much as I believe in you.
Honestly, that scares me.
I'm not used to depending on other people. All my life I've depended on my skills, on my love for the art—and in the past, that was enough.
And then you came along.
It was frustrating—being thrown into something so unfamiliar, so different, and having no control over any of it. And then, to add insult to injury, my skills stopped being enough.
But even then, when I wasn't strong enough on my own, you were there. And even though I did everything I could to push you away, you kept pushing right back.
But it wasn't all bad, was it?
We may have fought and called each other names, but I've never really hated you Ranma.
You were always there for me, whether I wanted you to be or not. And, in my own way, I've tried to be there for you too.
That's a start, right?
It's something, isn't it?
If our fathers weren't constantly forcing the engagement on us, if we'd met on our own terms, at our own pace, would things still be like they are now? Would you still want to be with me if you weren't honor-bound to?
I really wish I knew the answer to that.
If I did, maybe it would be easier to be honest with myself, to be honest with you.
I;Because maybe. . .
I;Maybe I've fallen in love with you, Ranma. . .
When she was done, Akane carefully set the pen down and sat there, staring dazedly at the page, not believing what she'd just written.
Her, in love with Ranma? That was crazy!
She was tired, that was all. She obviously needed sleep. And a vacation. Definitely a break from Shampoo, Kodachi, and Ukyo, and the craziness that had become her life—and from Ranma too, of course.
Once again, her eyes drifted to the page, her eyes taking in that last line.
But for some inexplicable reason she couldn't bring herself to cross it out.
Glancing nervously at her small circle of friends, she looked again to the letter, suddenly embarrassed. She hadn't meant to get so—so serious. There was no way she could show them this!
"Are you done now, Akane?" Sayuri asked, her eyes shifting from her short-haired friend to the paper she held in her hand.
Akane quickly shook her head. Crumpling up the small piece of paper, she shoved it quickly into the pocket of her pants.
"Not yet," she told them, smiling apologetically. "This is a lot harder than I thought. But I think I may be onto something."
"Take your time," Yuka told her. "No one's going to be sleeping tonight anyway." Turning back around, everyone's attention immediately returned to their game, the sounds of laughter once again filling the small room.
Akane sighed as she glanced at the new piece of paper that sat before her. Blank. Again.
Just great.
Now what? she wondered. She had to show them something. Pushing up her sleeves, she decided to do exactly that.
They wanted a love letter, she'd give them a love letter.
Feeling the piece of paper hidden in her pocket, she began to blush. She would worry about it later, she decided. Right now she had a battle to win.
Leaning over the paper, she began to write with vigor.
This time her love letter was mushy, silly, and filled with beautiful lies she knew her friends would just eat up. She drew from anything she could think of: poems or haikus they'd studied in class, cute little sayings she'd found while window shopping, television commercials. In the end, she had a pathetic, but authentic, love letter.
In the very least, it would be good enough to appease her friends.
She hoped.
"Finished!" she announced. Standing up, she made her way back towards the circle, silently handing over the latest version of her handiwork.
"Wow, Akane," Yuka praised. "It's really good. Much better than your previous attempts," she added.
Akane blushed, feeling slightly guilty for making it all up. "Ya think?" she asked, laughing nervously.
"Of course," Sayuri replied. Holding the paper out before her, she began to read aloud: "When I first saw you, I was afraid to meet you. When I met you I was afraid to kiss you. When I kissed you I was afraid to love you. Now that I love you, I'm afraid to lose you." She glanced at Akane, and smiled. "It's beautiful Akane."
"It is, isn't it?" she replied, beaming. Who would have thought a book on English love poems could be so helpful! "So, I'm done now, right? No more torture?"
"Naw, you've endured enough for one night," Yuka replied with a smirk. "But I hope you've realized something, Akane."
"Huh? Like what?"
Sayuri rolled her eyes. "Why, about your feelings for Ranma, of course. Now that you know you love him, you can't let those other girls steal him away from you!"
"Think of it as a battle," one of her other friends threw in.
"Exactly," said Yuka. "You hate to lose. Just handle snagging Ranma like it's some sort of battle. With Ukyo and that Amazon girl, it's sure to turn into one anyway."
"Oh," Akane said quietly. "Sure. No problem."
"Good," Yuka said, all smiles. "Now, what should we play next?"
Akane moved to sit between her friends, though she found it hard to concentrate on anything they were saying.
Try as she might, her mind just wouldn't stop thinking about the bothersome piece of paper crumpled up in her pocket.
Early in the morning, Akane returned home, feet dragging as she made her way towards her room.
Reaching into her pockets, she withdrew her keys and a crumpled piece of paper and threw them onto her desk before dragging her tired, weary body to her bed. There she collapsed and instantly fell asleep.
"Ranma," said Kasumi, catching the young martial artist before he climbed the stairs. "Dinner's almost ready. Could you wake Akane and tell her to come down, please? I'm sure she'll be hungry after sleeping all day."
At the mention of food, Ranma grinned. "Sure thing," he told her. "I'm starving!"
"Thank you, Ranma," she said with a smile. Turning, she headed back into the kitchen.
Approaching Akane's room, Ranma knocked loudly on his fiancée's door, calling out her name. Not receiving any reply, he slowly pushed the door open and peered inside, checking to make sure she was still asleep. He was half expecting her to be awake and huddling nearby, just looking for an excuse to pound him.
But nope, she was lying on top of her bed, out cold. She hadn't even taken the time to slip under the covers or change into her favorite yellow pajamas, she'd just collapsed. Moving quietly, he opened the door and walked in, careful to keep the door open a notch.
Seeing her lying there peacefully for once, really got his brain racing. Forcing back the urge to laugh evilly, he took a few steps closer. Now was the perfect opportunity to get her back for all the times she'd woken him up.
But first, he had to find a glass of cold water. Just a small amount should do the trick. After all, he wanted to surprise her, not drown her.
Besides, there was something gratifying in the knowledge that this time he'd know what he was getting pounded for.
Spotting her desk, he walked closer, pushing her bag out of the way as he searched for a cup. He didn't find any water, but he did find a piece of paper that was crumpled into a ball. Ranma instantly straightened it out, curiosity getting the better of him. At best, it could be something embarrassing he could tease her with later, at worse, homework he could copy. Either way, it looked like a win-win situation to him.
So needless to say, he was a little surprised when he saw that the letter was addressed to him. After reading the first couple lines in the dark, heart pounding, he glanced over at his fiancée, an unreadable look in his eyes.
Temporarily forgetting his mission, Ranma exited the room, taking the letter with him.
Akane awoke to the sound of someone knocking softly on her door. Slowly she sat up, rubbing wearily at her eyes.
"Come in," she said, still half asleep.
Her eldest sister entered, smiling sweetly. "I saved you some dinner in case you're hungry," she told her. "Since you and Ranma didn't come down, I figured you must be starving."
Akane frowned. Ranma, miss dinner? She found that hard to believe.
"Thanks, Kasumi," she said, climbing to her feet and stretching. "I'll be right down."
Her sister nodded, and as quietly as she had entered, left.
Still feeling groggy, Akane made her way to the door and quickly flipped on the light switch, gazing tiredly around the room as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. Bed, desk, dresser, and bookshelf—yup, everything present and accounted for. With acquaintances like Shampoo and Kodachi, a person could never be too sure. Wobbling towards her desk she sat down in her chair and started to push things aside as she searched for her hairbrush. Her overnight bag was taking up most of the room, along with a small pile of odds and ends she'd emptied from her pockets the night before: her keys, some spare yen, a cute keychain she'd bought, but still no brush.
Opening her overnight bag she began to look in there, moving things around as she continued her search, quickly growing annoyed. She better not have left it at Yuka's! Growing more frustrated by the minute, she was about to dump the entire contents of her bag onto the floor when a piece of white lined paper caught her eye, having been buried in the course of her search.
Suddenly, her heart stopped, the memory of last night quickly returning.
The letter!
Akane threw the bag to the ground, desperately changing tactics as she began to search for the small crumpled piece of paper instead. How could she have been so careless in the first place?
AND WHERE WAS IT?!
Finding nothing, her gaze eventually returned to the white slip of paper that had initially caught her attention, her heart sinking as she realized it was lying flat in the very center of her desk, not crumpled at all.
Taking it into her hands, pulse racing, she read it slowly, having recognized the writing immediately.
Akane, meet me on the roof.
-Ranma
Slowly, she set the paper back down on her desk, trying hard to fight back the near-panic she could feel bubbling just beneath the surface. If it was possible, she would've sworn that the room had begun to spin.
From her place on the ground, Akane looked up at the roof, barely breathing as her nerves got the better of her. It was no surprise that her mind was an utter mess and she couldn't think straight. For the thousandth time in as many minutes, her eyes reluctantly drifted to the ladder that was leaning against the house. It was the one thing that would get her up to the roof where Ranma waited . . . yet her feet refused to go anywhere near it.
Clenching her teeth, she forced her hands to grab one of the rungs of the ladder, gripping it tightly as she stared up at her destination. Maybe she'd get lucky and Ranma wouldn't even be there. Just how long was that dummy willing to wait anyway? Hopefully not long.
Oh, who was she kidding? He'd be there. If for no other reason, than to piss her off.
Gathering what little resolve remained, Akane began her climb, trying her best to do so quietly. No point in alerting anyone else where she was going, not if she wanted another surprise wedding or another of Ranma's fiancee's crying bloody murder at the sight of them meeting in secret. In fact, this was a terrible idea. Maybe she should go back to bed.
Just as she was about to retreat back towards the ground, Ranma's head suddenly appeared over the side of the roof. "Geez," he complained, "what's taking you so long, tomboy?"
Akane bristled at that. He was such a jerk! The very least he could do was allow her to arrive with some shred of dignity!
"I'm coming," she growled back, increasing her speed now that retreat was no longer an option. Ranma nodded, and quickly drew back, his head disappearing from view.
It didn't take Akane much longer to reach the top, and when she had, she moved silently to Ranma's side and settled down, waiting stubbornly for him to break the ice first. Unfortunately, the big dummy seemed intent on following her example. He was looking off to the right, pretending to see something interesting in the darkened sky, anything other than her, that is.
Sighing, she followed his gaze, not sure what else to do. She still didn't know what the best course of action in a situation like this was. Should she act indifferent and pretend she didn't know why she was here? Or call his bluff, and bring up the subject first?
Thankfully she didn't have to mull over the question for long.
Suddenly a small crumpled piece of paper found its way into her lap.
Startled, Akane looked over at Ranma, only to see that he was still staring at the sky, a faint hint of a blush on his face.
"So. . ." he began, trying his best to sound nonchalant. He paused for a moment, and clearing his throat, continued in a somewhat less than steady voice. "How were you gonna end it?"
Akane felt her insides twist and turn. "End what?" she asked, trying her best to ignore the gut-wrenching, nervous feeling.
Ranma shifted uneasily where he sat. "You know," he said, embarrassed at having to explain himself, "the letter. How were you gonna end it?"
Akane frowned. "I—I don't know," she managed, surprised that this was what he was wondering about. "I guess, I thought I already had ended it."
Heaving a sigh, Ranma put a hand to his head in frustration. "Ah, geez, I suck at this," he muttered darkly. Not moving from his position, he tried again. "I mean, how were you plannin' on closin' it? With just your name?" he asked, watching her out of the corner of his eye, "Or were you gonna tack something to the end of it? You know, like . . . Just kidding, Akane. . . or, Thanks for the rescue, Akane." He paused for a moment, trying to gauge her reaction. "You know," he told her quietly, "those kinda endings."
Akane regarded him carefully. She had tried to imagine all the different ways this conversation could go—all the different ways Ranma might try to embarrass her, torment her, or worse, gloat. But listening to him criticize her lack of closure had never once crossed her mind. She wasn't sure what to make of it!
"Why does that matter?" she asked at last, genuinely confused.
"It just does," he told her sharply, with more force than he'd intended. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, and blushing like mad, he continued, slower now. "If—if I knew how you were goin' to close it, then—then I'd know how I'm supposed to take it..."
Akane fell silent at that; it was her turn to blush now. She could feel her heart beating furiously in her chest, so loudly she was sure he could hear it.
Did that mean he wanted to take her letter seriously? That maybe . . . maybe he felt the same?
Slowly, Akane lifted her head to look at Ranma, only to find that his eyes were already locked on hers.
Her face felt warm, her heart, like it would burst.
With difficulty, she looked away, her eyes drifting once again to the piece of paper sitting in her lap.
He wanted an ending. . .
And, she realized, so did she.
Picking up the piece of paper in her hands, Akane began to slowly smooth it out, removing many of its creases. Then, grabbing a pen she'd left buried in her pocket, she bent once more over the paper and wrote something carefully on the bottom of the page. When she was all done, she crumpled it back into a ball and tossed it back at her fiancé without a word.
Ranma stared at it for several long seconds, hesitating. He wasn't sure what he wanted to see when he opened the letter . . . but he was holding his breath, nervous and anxious all the same.
Slowly, he began to unfold it, taking his time.
A part of him expected to find a drawing of a face with its tongue sticking out: a sure sign he'd been had. But another part, a part he was trying very hard to suppress lest he be disappointed, wanted there to be something more.
His eyes immediately found what he was looking for, and he felt his breath catch in his throat, his hands trembling as he stared at the words.
Sincerely, Akane
Two simple words . . . and yet Ranma couldn't seem to stop smiling.
Akane paused to look at him, almost afraid to speak. He was smiling . . . that was a good sign, right? But was it a good smile? It could be a trick, she realized. What if he called her a dummy then proceeded to make fun of her as usual?
She'd knock him off the roof, that's what.
It was nice having an alternative. But it still wasn't enough to calm her shaken nerves, or the butterflies in her stomach. Taking a slow, deep breath, Akane finally spoke. "Is that alright?" she asked, her voice wavering slightly. "Does that answer your question?"
Ranma raised his head to look at her, still holding the paper tightly in his hands. She looked so open, so vulnerable now. Not like the strong, stubborn Akane he was used to seeing, and he felt something in his heart respond to that—a familiar feeling, he realized, but not an all together unpleasant one.
It felt nice. Really nice.
"Yeah," he managed at last, his eyes soft. "Thanks, Akane."
She was blushing deeply now, her own cheeks crimson. The twisting, anxious feelings had long since subsided to be replaced with a warmth that seemed to permeate her entire being.
Almost unconsciously, their hands moved closer, until they came together at last, fingers entwined.
Akane looked over at him shyly as Ranma grinned, and they sat on the roof together, enjoying the peace and quiet that was normally so rare in Nerima.
To some, it might have seemed like a small beginning.
But to them, it was a beginning long overdue.