Author's Note: I'm on my third chapter and I was able to follow my schedule. It is quite an achievement for me. Enjoy reading. Don't forget to review.

The Day I Found the One

By Erzamarie

Haruka's POV

I only wanted two things in life: my father's approval and martial arts.

My father wanted to have a son, but mother bore him a daughter. He didn't hate me for it, but it also didn't endear me to him. A son would have been an heir to his school of martial arts and to the family's multi-million company. Yet, fate had been cruel to him, for he got a daughter instead.

I didn't hate my father for begrudging me for my sexuality; instead, I cursed fate for doing this to us.

My father loved me as his only blood heir, I knew that for a certain and I could feel it whenever he would come and see me on those rare occasions when I was younger.

And so like any good daughter, I tried to please him in any way I could. I excelled in academics, sports and even liberal arts. When I heard my father loved theatre and ballet, I enrolled myself to both classes and sooner starred in plays and dances. In those times, my father would tap my head gently for his silent approval, but still I felt inadequate.

When I was twelve, I saw my father doing a complex kata in one of the private rooms in our house. It was his training room with all his achievements and weapons displayed in the wall. It was the second thing that I fell in love with. I was dazzled and mesmerized with the fluidity of the kata that I found myself holding my breath. It was magnificent to watch; it was like a dance move that was gracefully executed. Then my green eyes locked into my father's, and I knew he saw the fire of passion ignited within me. Since then, I was motivated to learn the ways of the art.

I was a little late for the training, which was the reason I needed a lot of catching up to do. So after school, I had to train myself for 5 hours a day until my body ached. I forgot all other things and concentrated on martial arts. Two years afterwards, my father sent me to different senseis, who trained me in every art. I was greedy for I want it all and my father gave it to me without hesitation. The annual vacation trips I had were forgotten. I was left to have camping trips and journeys all throughout Japan to test my skills.

All my previous school activities proved to be fruitful for me. My academics made me good in strategy and planning. My athleticism and ballet made my body strong and flexible. But it was my acting that I was able to use well. I was able to master my feeling which was good in a fight. I could read people's faces but they couldn't read mine. Deception was easily done with acting. A little tear here could do a lot, and a smile could be a deadly weapon. I defeated a full grown man once. It was his fault for underestimating me just because I looked stupid with my sweet smile and petite body. I broke his fingers because of it. Now, I enjoyed my opponents' faces whenever they realized they couldn't defeat me.

For those few years my world revolved on honing my skills and getting myself stronger. However, the stronger I got the harder it was to find better opponents. That was then when everything became boring. Although my passion was still there, it no longer burned like it used to. I felt like this for a long time until I met Ranma.

I met him twice, but he didn't know it was me on our first meeting. He wouldn't know it was me as I had worn a mask to hide my face. I couldn't possibly let myself be seen in public especially on local martial art tournament such as the one I joined in Nerima. At first, I just joined out of fun and somewhat training myself. But I was wrong to have underestimated the tournament. There were a few opponents that were really good. I immediately noticed the Chinese girl's moves which was accurate and sure. A couple more girls were good, but one girl surprised me with her speed and techniques. She was petite like me but a little shorter. Her red hair tied in a pigtail and she was wearing a Chinese shirt. I was in the impression that she was somewhat connected with the Chinese girl and I was right. I heard the purple haired Chinese called her, Ranko. Even though I lost, it was a better experience for me because I was defeated by the best – I lost to Ranko.

At that time, I didn't know Ranma and Ranko was the same person. I used all our resources to uncover everything about Ranko and only to find nothing. I did everything but all that came out was Ranma Saotome and not Ranko Saotome. A month later of having nothing, I closed the research on her and moved on with my training.

Eight months later, I met Ranma Saotome.

It was my last day in training in the deep forest of Mt. Fuji. I was at the meeting point where my father was supposed to meet me half an hour ago on our scheduled time. He wasn't there yet and as I knew of my father, he never got late unless something happened. Afraid of that negative thought, I went out and searched for him. I walked for about 500 feet away from the designated meeting area when I saw Ranma. He was performing a complex kata with ease. To me, he moved like a male ballerina. His moves were gentle yet sharp, and quick with precision. My heart fluttered like when I watched for the first time the Swan princess Odette. It was the reason I was eager to learn ballet, then as I saw Ranma, I wanted to keep him as my own.

He continued to practice his techniques, which made me more envious of him. He jabbed the air in rapid succession. I tried to count them but I lost count at the middle of 30. His eyes remained focused and yet I had the sense of feeling that he was well aware of his surroundings.

Detecting something, he leapt through the air and threw something in one of the bushes around his camp. My father's bodyguard dropped like a log afterwards. A 7-ft man fell after being hit by a pebble.

I smiled at how strong Ranma was. My father would be very happy to meet him. As if on cue, my father came out from hiding with his hands open high to show his surrender.

"Who are you?" Ranma shouted in a serious tone.

"I'm Nishio Saturo of the Nishio Group of Companies. That is my bodyguard, who would be fired when he wakes up." My father shouted.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came here to fetch my daughter who was training here as well. What is your name, son?"

Ranma nodded but his eyes remained on my father, scrutinizing him. "I'm Saotome Ranma, heir of the anything goes martial arts." I wouldn't blame him for being suspicious after all my father was never friendly and amiable to anyone.

"Now, I see why I haven't seen those styles before. They are quite enjoyable to watch."

"Thank you…" Ranma started.

I moved a little closer to hear them but as it turned out as I stepped forward, it made a cracking sound of twigs which pointed my hiding place.

"Show yourself." Ranma shouted this time ready for an attack.

"Gomen," I said as I came out from the bushes.

In closer view, Ranma was more handsome. His eyes particularly were exceptionally breath taking; they were blue as the ocean which make you want to drown in them. His pigtail was out of style and so as the Chinese shirt he wore, but other than those two, I didn't see anything that I didn't like.

"Ranma, this is my daughter, Haruka. She's the one I was supposed to meet." My father said as he smiled broadly. Anyone, who was familiar with my father, knew that Nishio Saturo did not smile like that unless he was exceedingly pleased. He rarely smile that it made my skin crawl whenever he did. But that day, I understood my father and I too couldn't help myself from smiling with him.

"Can we spar?" I asked bluntly wanting to try myself against him.

"I don't fight with girls," he answered. If I hadn't seen him in training, I would have said he was cocky and arrogant, but since I did see him I could not hate him for declining.

"Then you wouldn't mind if I present myself as an opponent," my father interjected rather happily.

They fought well at the first few minutes of the fight. They started in equal footing, but later it became apparent who was the better fighter. My father was old and lacked stamina, while Ranma was young and full of energy. It became a one-sided battle and Ranma did not even show any of his techniques yet. At the end, Ranma was proclaimed as the winner and my father was on his knees breathing so hard.

"How long have you been fighting?" my father asked in between his breath.

"I started when I was four," Ranma answered mechanically. "You're not too bad for an old man," he added.

"Coming from you, it's an achievement. By the way, in what dojo are you practicing?"

"We used to travel before. My father and I started when it when I was four and we journeyed all over Japan. Our last stop was in China before we settled in Nerima. Now, I'm at the Tendo Dojo."

"Unbelievable. You are quite a young man."

Ranma was either too embarrassed to be praised or he just didn't know how to react with my father's praises.

It was dark when we left. My thoughts remained with Ranma and the stories he told us. Father was ecstatic. I never saw him like that before. And when my father stared at me like he did the first time I saw him training, I knew what he was thinking because I was thinking the same thing too – I want Ranma.

Was it obsession or fanaticism? I wasn't sure at all. But I'm certain that I want him and I never wanted anything else.

That was where everything started for me.