My Second Home Is Where The Heart Is [Erica, Ranma]

Mhm, stretching his back felt relieving, too. In a way, his thoughts grew clearer with that, but maybe it was her Kaido at play. She was good at it, his body already felt new and fresh out of the morning with few signs of- okay, his knees ached when he bent them upon sitting up, but beyond that, the magic did its trick.

“…” To simply leave that Retsu persona beyond… wait, persona? He acted as if it was a separate personality of his, but he didn’t remember suffering from split personality disorders. Then again, would any ill suspect so? No, no, no, it couldn’t be… he remembered vividly what he used to do. But according to Erica, he was already on his way to atonement for all of that as a Shinigami. He should’ve talked with someone sooner, this lit up his worldview a lot more. “Yeah, you’re right. I am a Shinigami, in the end…” he agreed, lowering his face with a soft smile raised under his bandages.

… Huh? She wasn’t seeing anyone? Okay, that made the whole ordeal much more… romantic. Like the stories he’d read – could this count as a sort of suspension bridge effect, then? He was recovering from a brutal episode, and Erica was treating his grave injuries – in a way, you could say that they were both going through the same, wild episode together. Stories like those planted the roots for romance to arise! And who didn’t like romance?!

But… nah, he literally just met her. No shot she had any romantic feelings for a stranger… but why did he, then? Was it because of her sharp eyes bringing out his sealed confessions like it was second nature to her? Was it her warmth? She was like a key that oh so smoothly opened a door on his chest and gazed upon the contents inside with no judgement nor vice. Maybe that was why she came off as such an angel… and there was no ignoring it, she was really hot. The birth marks under each of her eyes, the bright hair, and the way her uniform hugged her figure. Mad hot.

… Maybe it was just the whole ‘nurse taking care of you’ fantasy running rampant in his thirsty head. Thirsty in more ways than one, that was.

“… I see,” he replied, trying to hide his relief. Good thing he was wearing bandages over his mouth. “…” Okay, Ranma, think… what was the best way to go with this? Ask her on a date? While he was a patient? Too awkward. Tooooooooo awkward. No way he could do that…

His strange thoughts were abrupted by her request to lower his mask, so that he could actually drink… a need that he’d forgotten was required to drink anything. “O-Oh, that’s right… o-okay, well, yes. Just d-don’t freak out, it’s not pretty,” he warned her before awaiting her curious inspection of the nightmare-ish scar granting his mouth a wider, false ‘grin’ than it normally would have. Shit made him look like a reptilian, really.

But he waited patiently... wait, if she saw it, maybe his dreams of romance would never come to fruition. Oh no-

By that realization, the deed would've already been done. It was too late to back down.

Why did the act of pulling down his mask feel so oddly intimate? As if he was revealing a deep, deep secret of his, a source of shame if flashed to the light of the public… but in these quarters, under only four eyes, it felt right to let go of the covers veiling his injury. The serpent-like grin on his face… didn’t make her flinch? How come? What had Erica been through, herself? Was she desensitized to such terrifying things?

She must be quite the badass, and his admiration of her only grew as a result.

The water was well appreciated. The sleepless expression on his face faded away, and light returned to his hardened face. There was something deeply passionate about all of this… he could feel it. It wasn’t just gratitude to the Second Division, but something more. He should ask her out, really! Don’t be a coward, Ranma!

But something about her melodic humming kept him quiet… blushing, eyes shining, but quiet nonetheless. That was, until she asked him about the scar – where he got it from. A question that required reminiscence to answer. “… I… I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, cutie,” he pushed out of his exposed mouth with a rather sly grin rising, holding himself back from chuckling at his strange behavior.

“I got angry. Yup – Vengeful Retsu back at it again, but… I think that was the last time I lashed out like that. It wasn’t pretty, though – I was outnumbered and got pretty hurt, but that wasn’t what gave me this scar-“ he explained, gently stretching one edge of his mouth with a finger to inspect the new tissue of his cut, “It was actually a Shinigami. I… I think I attacked him. I don’t remember why, though, but as you can see, he defended himself. Damn, his Zanpakutō was cool, though – I would’ve loved to see it one more time if it didn’t almost kill me.” The cut went further than just his face – the scar tissue, darker than his ordinary skin, reached down to the base between his skull and neck. “He brought me here. Thanks to him, I’m still kicking… funny story, don’t you think?”

Ohhhh… his knees tickled. Now he felt like he could actually jump again – not off a rooptop, this time. So this was what Kaido was capable of… wait… if he learned Kaido, then maybe he’d be able to tank for longer! Although, who could teach him other than the dazzling beauty in front of him?

And it’d be one hell of an excuse to see her again. Jackpot! As for whether or not it’d be the last time he’d get such nasty scars from a Shinigami… well, hopefully. “I’ll be more careful from now on. Can’t have you stressing over me too much…”

But that thought was left behind as Erica pondered if he had bad relations with his Zanpakutō, which… well… in a way, but not exactly the way she thought. His brows raised, and his head tilting, he thought about it for a second and came out with a sigh: “Them asking me anything… would be good for a change. Thing is, my Zanpakutō’s only ever spoken two words to me ever since I got my Asauchi – and the first word wasn’t even a word! It was, like, a dismissing grunt! Way to be rude to someone you just met…” Truth is, Ranma’s relationship with his Zanpakutō was muddy. It was written all over his face.

“You wanna know something? Don’t most Shinigami get along with their Zanpakutō? Like, from the jump? All you gotta do is ask for its name, right?” That was the method of awakening your Zanpakutō’s Shikai – learn the first name of the spirit inside. Simple. “I don’t know what I did to make it avoid me like a disease- I was just practicing Kendo when Soul Society suddenly just went quiet! Everyone stopped moving, not a soul was lifting a finger or uttering a single word! It was so creepy… a-and I can’t even tell how much time I spent hearing my own blood flow with how unbearably quiet it was! And then this weirdo of a Spirit just sits nearby, and I went over to him, but he teleported away from me! Like playing hide and seek, but for- h-how much time went? I can’t even tell how old I am!”

It’d been 3 years in that strange place, but who expected Ranma to keep track of time in a world where time had stopped?

“And then he just quickly says his name like a lazy student rushing to write down an answer for the last task in an exam- like, what the actual hell?!” Back to crossing his arms in disbelief, anger and just utter confusion at the antics of his strange Zanpakutō spirit. “I swear, Hōkamaru saying anything else to me would be a relief. I was just practicing its Shikai – the bastard slows down time. Would you believe that?! Time! Even I can’t wrap my head around it – I expected my Zanpakutō to be fire-based or even just a strength boost, but this whole slowmo-bullshit feels like an apology for trolling me all this time…”

Awkward, yes. Very awkward, such a Zanpakutō. What was the lesson again? The Zanpakutō was a part of him? Did that mean that his Zanpakutō reflected something in himself?

… No way.

And it appeared that having any sort of conversation with one’s Zanpakutō was a rarity. Erica’s own sword hadn’t spoken to her at all yet – which was a very dumb thing. Her sword was missing out on the company of such an angel! What an idiot Asauchi! “… Flowers? *sniff*” Ranma reacted, taking a sniff of the air to see if he could catch the scent of fragrant flowers without his mask obscuring his nose, “You sure it’s not just you?”

Damn. Nice of you, Ranma.

But besides the banter, she had another point – did his Zanpakutō genuinely want to help him? Well, like… why not say it so? That was what grinded Ranma’s skull so much… but if he needed to understand it better, then… what could he do? His Spirit barely wanted to see him face to face – arghhhh, this was so confusing! “Hnnnnmmmmmmmhhhh, how do I even begin to understand Hōkamaru when he won’t face me?”

Did… no, his Spirit couldn’t just hate him. That was ultimately illogical – maybe Hōkamaru was just so shy that this was all he could do to aid Ranma. She did share the neat fact to him that not many Shinigami achieve Shikai in the first place, which was something that visibly threw him back. “W-Wait, it’s that rare?”

Maybe Hōkamaru did actively help him, after all. Maybe all Zanpakutō were shy like that, which could explain why Shikai was uncommon as she said. It certainly made it all feel more worth it, the path he’d walked to get to where he was today… and she was even impressed with his Zanpakutō’s ability to manipulate time! Ayo, Hōkamaru, sorry for all of the shit I’ve said about you – you’re not that bad! And thanks for the charisma points, too!, Ranma simply thought to himself, a passing act of gratitude deep within his psyche that was followed with a sharp grunt emitting from his resting, sheathed Zanpakutō next to his bed that both would be able to hear.

“… H-Hōkamaru… heh. Your grumpy grunts won’t trick me anymore – Erica, I think he appreciates your compliment,” Ranma assumed with a growing smile, “Thanks… for all of this. Hey, if I cut down on my Second Division ‘visits’, then… when can I see you again? Or, or, should I jump from the same roof next week?” That last part was clearly a joke, a means to express how much he wanted to meet her again. His knees were starting to feel much better, which meant that he was soon to be released from these barracks once more.

Except instead of the sharp gaze of a nasty temper, he felt like he was slowly dragged into a bed of roses.

What… what was keeping these two apart? Ranma and Hōkamaru? If Hōkamaru was just very shy, then perhaps… no, wait, what did Hōkamaru really want? To protect him… but to stay away from him. So what could Ranma do now? Give him space? Maybe that was what Hōkamaru wanted… but how could he make his pal, his Zanpakutō, open up to him? He didn’t have any prejudices against Hōkamaru, and he had nothing to scold abo-

Okay, maybe the long-as-all-hell time he spent in that weird Soul Society place… wait, was that what Hōkamaru was upset about?! But that occurred before Ranma even knew his first name! No, no, think about it…

Wait. Let time pass by. Maybe Hōkamaru just took longer to do all sorts of things, as if affected by his own Shikai ability… but that sounded silly. Yet, he had little to do but wait. Simply let Hōkamaru approach him for a change? Then he could try and say something to the Spirit, if ever given the chance again. Maybe that was the key he was searching for. “… Pfffff, I barely begun, sweetie! I’ll chase him to the edges of the Soul Society and beyond if I have to… as long as he lets me,” Ranma reassured her as well as himself with quite the bravado to support, “If I give it enough time, I’ll be sure I can figure out something between us two.”

He’d wiggle his toes a little as requested, feeling only the prickling feeling of his limbs waking up again. After a moment, the prickling dissipated without any pain remaining. He’d wave his legs from side to side too, feeling 100%. Those limbs were brutally injured before! She was a killer Kaido user!

Being so busy sounded like a direct result of being so talented, so that was a bummer. BUT! She was free in the evenings! There was a chance! “Yes! Ye- I-I mean, yes, nice. Sounds rough…” Respectable, being so dedicated to your work. Ranma… might have been a bit too lazy in some ends, but he could get the job done. Rather do it fast, so that he could relax longer afterwards.

Hearing about her mother was intriguing too, and it shed light on Erica’s role in the Second Division too. She must’ve looked up to her mother tremendously. It was great to know that her relationship with her parent was solid… yeah, he didn’t want to think about his parents. Go back a topic.

“Well, plenty of things to see and do here in the lower-numbered areas, so… if you’re up for it, wanna have a drink later?”