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by Edmondia Dantes

Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 is not mine.

AN: Requested by torsui.

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It was a little bit funny and was a lot bit weird and really, honestly, none of this was fair. He'd never asked for all of this, never done anything really really bad to deserve it, and blaming it all on the old man had never done him any good at all.

But it really wasn't fair. He tried to be a good person, tried not to hurt anybody, but that was always a problem because everybody wanted to hurt him, and what else was he supposed to do but fight back?

He guessed it pissed him off, although he considered himself a fairly laid-back guy, but he would never totally flip out because he was kind of afraid of what might happen, and he guessed that was his real problem after all.

Stupid, really, but he was no genius, not for stuff like that, and it was just... hard sometimes, really hard, to figure out what to do, what not to do, and even if it felt natural most of the time, sometimes something would happen and he'd just freeze up completely, like someone had knocked the air out of his lungs, and he was lucky, he guessed, because someone was always around to give him a kick in the spine to get him breathing again.

It was really pitiful how jealous he was of them - not for what they had, no, he was quite content with the roof over his head (at least it was usually there) and the food (except when Akane cooked) and the company (it was almost like a real family sometimes, but in those quiet cozy moments he was always afraid of doing something wrong) - because they weren't afraid. Crazy, yes, every last one of them (not Ukyo, though) freaking out of their minds, but at least Ryouga and Shampoo and Mousse and Kodachi and Kuno and hell even Hiroshi and Daisuke weren't afraid of reaching out and taking what they could get.

And it sucked, but every time he almost nearly sort of kind of maybe worked up the courage to possibly reach out, someone else interrupted, and the moment would crash, lost in screaming and blushing and total embarassment that would linger for the next few days.

Given their history, any possible moment meant inevitable doom, and even though he wanted to try, wanted to try for it so badly sometimes, he didn't know how to make it not a disaster. He didn't know what the goal was, and he didn't know what he was doing, and there was no way to figure it out, and when there wasn't a way to deal with it, he just couldn't.

And it wasn't fair, because he didn't know what to do. It didn't stop him from trying - he wasn't of the sort to give up, not now and not ever - but it wasn't fair either. None of this was fair.

And it sucked.

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