That\'s What Friends are For

Mousse adjusted his robe over the bandages on his chest and slowly and painfully walked to his room. Another fight with Ranma lost, ending in Mousse getting creamed. And the crowd goes wild and everyone celebrates Ranma’s victory while the loser limps painfully towards home. He knows that there will be no one there to dress his wounds or whisper words of encouragement that he would defeat that dastardly Ranma the next time. There was no one there because Shampoo and Cologne had taunted him for even trying and were currently celebrating Mousse’s defeat, they who had known him all of his life and never had whispered a word of praise. They seemed to think his only worth was unpaid labour for their restaurant.

Mousse sighed and allowed himself to experience the depression that he normally kept at bay with a cheerful demeanor, so that he wouldn’t disturb Shampoo with his melancholy moods. It seemed to him that the two autocratic women he lived with were trying to kill him with contempt. Their daily insults and blows rained down on him incessantly, washing away what remained of his already bruised ego. Was it truly his fault that his aqua curse was of a duck? Surely Shampoo’s cat curse was just a silly? Yet no one called her stupid cat girl. It’s not like he chose to have horrible vision, though he doubted that a withered leg or arm in its place would make him any more appealing to Shampoo.

When he looked in the mirror he saw a tall, attractive man (what little he could make out that is), what did Shampoo see when she looked at him? A loser who provided her with comic relief and fed her ego? Her childhood playmate? A friend? Or just someone who would never be good enough to defeat her would-be husband?

Love, her love, that's all he wanted. To prove to her that he was the man for her, the father of her children. Instead he got her contempt and her hatred of him. He allowed himself to moan out loud when he felt a twinge of pain. He decided to lie down and lay back fully clothed onto his futon. His green eyes stared up at the ceiling as he contemplated his life and realized that he hated Nerima with its noisy, crowded streets and endless martial artists trooping there to challenge Ranma. He missed his home with its clean streets and friendly people. He missed his family and didn’t even have a single friend here despite having resided in Nerima for an entire year. Shampoo thought that she’d left everything in China to pursue Ranma, but she still had family with her, a wealthy great-grandmother who could afford to set up a lucrative business to provide for them. Who did Mousse have, no one! Not even Shampoo’s friendship. He sighed and turned over so that he was staring at the featureless wall. This wasn’t even his room, it was more like a guestroom that they would kick him out of as soon as they got a better guest. He owned only the box of weapons in the entire place and hadn’t bothered decorating it, what was the point?

‘Always alone’ he thought, even though he lived with two people. But it was still possible to suffer feelings of isolation if you’re not welcome where you lived. He wondered where his fellow tribesmen were; probably drinking sake in celebration with a victorious Ranma will he boasted about Mousse’s defeat. This movement caused his bruised ribs to twinge and he sucked in his breath at the pain. He whimpered softly, another whimper in a universe of pain. He felt tears slide silently down his cheeks; he was no stranger to crying and often couldn’t prevent himself when Shampoo said she hated him. Yet the silent tears he shed were more painful now. Finally he gave into the sobs and his shoulders heaved as he cried out his bitterness to the night. He longed for companionship, someone to talk to, and someone to hold him. Of all the things that he left behind in China, family and friends were the things he missed the most. He had friends amongst the other male amazons in the tribe. As for hugs, he could always depend on his hyper cuddly siblings for that.

He wondered if he should just give up and abandon Shampoo to her own fate. At least he could return home and lick his wounds. How he longed to escape the craziness of Nerima! He would love never to have to see Ranma again, how he hated his smug face!

Mousse carefully slipped of out of his robe so that nothing was pressing against his ribs. Then lay back down wearing only his baggy pants, he shifted to try and get comfortable and was soon asleep. He dreamed that Ranma lay defeated and unconscious at his feet while Shampoo glomped onto him the way he’d always wished she would, her face shone with love for him. He awoke to feel a soft touch on his shoulder and opened his eyes.

“Yo Mousse you okay?” a familiar voice said.

He put on his glasses and peered through them “Ranma what are you doing here?” he demanded.

Ranma had seen the other boy slink off in a painful way and had been concerned about him. “I came to see if you were okay” he explained.

Mousse looked at him suspiciously “since when do you care?” he demanded and sat up. The sheets slipped down to show his bandages.

“You’re hurt; do you want me to take you to see a doctor?” Ranma volunteered.

“My ribs are bruised, the only thing that will heal them is time” Mousse said warily. “How did you get in?” he asked.

“Shampoo leant me a key when I expressed concern about you” Ranma explained.

“Yeah, I’m sure they’re just as concerned” Mousse said bitterly.

“They were drinking sake when I left, I don’t think they are” Ranma said honestly.

Mousse shut his eyes against the tears that threatened to fall “no they would be concerned about you if you were injured, I’m nothing to them” he said in a voice of defeat.

“Hey don’t think like that” Ranma protested.

“Why its true, Shampoo hates me and Cologne wishes I were never born” Mousse said, just managing to stifle a sob.“Why are you here, why are you pretending to care? You’ve got everything that I’ve ever wanted; it is that you’ve come for my very life?” Mousse asked. He jumped when he felt a hand settle on his shoulder and couldn’t repress a sob at this simple gesture of affection. Mousse didn’t protest as arms slipped around him and he was suddenly in the embrace of his greatest enemy.

“Let is out” Ranma whispered into his ear and with the force of a dam bursting, Mousse broke into uncontrollable sobs. He accepted the comfort and shelter of Ranma’s arms because he was starved for affection and badly needed companionship. Afterward Ranma eased him back and handed him a tissue.

“I suppose that you’re going to tell everyone about this?” Mousse said embarrassed.

“No, nothing happened here. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about, you seem lonely and need a friend. I can be that for you, we can hang out when we’re not fighting” Ranma offered.

Mousse gave him a smile “I think that I would like that”

“Good lets go to the movies tomorrow, you’re buying my ticket” Ranma offered.

“No problem, you’re buying popcorn and drinks then” Mousse replied. Ranma scowled at this “What the matter, isn’t that what friends do?” Mousse said facetiously.