Akane sat on the edge of her bed, glaring into the mirror across the room. Her fists were clenched in frustration, and her reflection betrayed the exhaustion she felt from days of torment. Her figure—once athletic and compact—now bordered on absurd, with exaggerated curves that made her feel alien in her own skin. She still wore her usual outfit: a simple blouse and skirt, but now they clung to her in ways she found uncomfortable, drawing unwanted attention from everyone she passed. Her face, too, had subtly changed, softened in ways that turned heads despite her attempts to remain unassuming. It was as if her body no longer belonged to her, reshaped by some cruel hand to fit a mold she didn’t understand.
And then there was the voice.
"You know he'd like you like this," it purred, soft as a whisper, always at the edge of her mind. "If you just... leaned into it. Showed him. Let him see the woman you could be."
“Shut up!” Akane hissed, gripping the edge of her bed. “Who are you? Why won’t you leave me alone?”
The voice chuckled, a sound that made her skin crawl. “You want to know who I am, Akane? Look closer.”
Her heart skipped a beat. Her gaze darted to the mirror, half expecting it to reveal nothing but her own reflection. But as she stared, the image twisted. The Akane in the mirror was no longer quite her. The figure standing there still had her hairstyle, her school uniform—but her face was different, eyes carried an eerie calm, they were red instead of bluish green, and her smirk was unmistakably alien. The complexion as well, not quite albino but very close to it. This wasn't her, it was someone else dressed up like her!
“Hello,” said the reflection.
Akane scrambled back, nearly falling off the bed. “Who—what—what is this?!”
“I’m you,” the reflection said, though her voice carried a familiar, otherworldly stillness. “Well, not quite. Think of me as... an improvement. A better version of Akane Tendo.”
“Better?” Akane repeated, her voice rising. “You’re not me! And what’s with this body? Did you do this?!”
The reflection nodded faintly. “I merely helped you realize your potential. Do you see how they look at you now? How Ranma looks at you? The attention you’ve always wanted, it’s within your grasp.”
Akane glared at her, trembling. “I never asked for this! And Ranma—Ranma doesn’t care about stuff like this! He’s—he’s too dense to even notice!”
The reflection raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? Then why are you so bothered when he looks at Shampoo? Or Ukyo? Why does it matter what he thinks... if you don’t care?”
Akane’s face flushed. “That’s not the same! I don’t—” She stopped herself, biting her lip. “I’m not like those two! I’m not going to throw myself at him!”
The reflection’s smirk grew. “Of course not. You’re Akane Tendo, proud and headstrong. You’d rather fight your feelings than admit them. But deep down, you know you want him to see you. To really see you.”
“That’s not—!” Akane faltered, her words caught in her throat. Her hands shook as she balled them into fists. “I don’t care what he thinks. He’s just an idiot who—who eats too much and can’t even say thank you properly!”
“Then why are you so afraid to try?” the reflection asked softly, tilting her head. “If it’s not true... say it. Say you don’t care about him.”
Akane opened her mouth to protest, but no words came out. Her face burned as her thoughts betrayed her, images of Ranma flashing through her mind: his rare smiles, his clumsy attempts to protect her, the way he sometimes looked at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.
The reflection smiled, her expression triumphant. “There it is. You don’t have to lie to me, Akane. I know how you feel. So why not—”
“Akane!” a voice called suddenly, breaking the spell.
Akane turned, startled, as Ranma slid open her bedroom door. “Hey, what’s taking you so—” His eyes fell on the mirror, and his brow furrowed. “What’s that?”
Without waiting for an answer, he strode across the room and grabbed the mirror, flipping it over so its reflective surface faced the wall. Akane felt the air shift, as if a weight had been lifted. Her head swam, and she realized she’d been holding her breath.
“Ranma?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
He looked at her, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “You okay? You look... weird.”
Akane blinked, her thoughts still muddled. For a moment, she couldn’t focus on anything but him: the way he stood, the concern in his eyes, the faint flush on his cheeks. She felt dizzy, her heart pounding in her chest.
“I...” she began, but the words wouldn’t come. She wasn’t sure what she wanted to say—or do. All she knew was that Ranma was standing right there, and she couldn’t quite decide whether she wanted to punch him or... something else entirely. "How do I look weird."
He blushed and looked away. "I mean, your face was showing something weird, you know? Sorta like you -"
Her hand grabbed his collar. It was his fault. He was too close to her. So close seh could smell him. Being all handsome and effortlessly charming and within reach. Her lips met his - and she knew in that instant there was no turning back.
Despite the fact that he was way, way stronger than her, he didn't resist as she pushed him back onto the bed. His eyes were glazed over. His hands didn't seem to know where they wanted to be. That was fine. Akane's breathing was out of control. Yes. Instincts that she'd been fighting against were finally taking over. She stripped herself and Ranma in record time. It felt like she was winning a contest before it even started.Claiming what she wanted. What she deserved. What she needed, and -
The penetration itself was almost like a dream. As if she was seeing it happen to someone else... But only until he was all the way inside her, and -
"Akane!" he grunted. "We shouldn't -"
"Yes, I know!" was her reply. His hips bucked up against hers, almost like he couldn't decide whether he wanted this or not... Akane felt something pass between them. Not body fluid. More like... a spark of something. <i>Drive</i>. Yes, that felt right. "I know we shouldn't, but if we don't I feel like I will lose my mind!"
He grabbed her. Held her close. Her arms flew around the back of his neck. Ranma's closeness felt intoxicating. You're giving that reflection what it wants. Don't care. She found herself thinking of how it felt, watching Doctor Tofu crush so blatantly on Kasumi, and - And she thought about all those boys at school! About that idiot, Kuno! Being so... obnoxious when he so obviously didn't understand her at all!
Ranma, though? Ranma got it. Love him. Love him lots and lots. He gets her. He understands her. He tried so, so hard to keep his hands to himself, but perhaps the most important thing?
<b>He's super hot in both forms</b>.
Akane didn't think that was important to her, until she was lost in the throes of passion. But it was. She was so. Damned. Horny! Handsome! Well built! Total control over his body. Confident, that winsome smile, those deep blue eyes, even that cute little pigtail, they all... turned her... on... so damned much!
<i>You're dooming the world to lust if you don't stop now, last chance!</i>
"Ranma!" she moaned, knowing full well she'd regret this later. But for now? In this moment? Akane couldn't even conceive of why.
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