Author's note: Okay well, let's see. It's taken me over a year to get this done…a long time, yes I know. Originally it started out as a dark fic (or something along those lines) about Kasumi. But then you see something happened…I saw a movie well actually I saw about three or four movies that helped me change my mind about the direction that the fic was going in. I won't say what the movies are just yet because well I don't want to scare you all away from reading the fic. I'm planning on making this a multi-chapter fic so I'll reveal the movies in the next chapter. That's about it. Enjoy the fic. Dislaimer: Ranma ½ is property of Rumiko Takahashi and is used without permission.

TRIP AWAY

A Ranma ½ fanfic by Crikit

"Kasumi, we're going now."

"Okay Akane. Have fun at school."

The door shuts and the sound of shoes on the pavement grows softer and softer, until it is but a memory…a distant thought reminding me that they will be back, but their return is hours away -baring incident of course-. That is more then enough time for me to do what I have planned, more then enough time for me to indulge in my secret passion.

As I make my way through the house I can't help but notice how quiet it is, how void it is of the usual sounds. Father and Mr. Saotome are training with Happosai in the mountains, with them out of the house the sounds of scheming, cheating, and drunkenness vanish. My sisters and Ranma have left for school, thus eliminating the almost constant sounds of anger. The only sounds left are the ones that I make.

My feet hitting the wood of the floor, the intake and exhale of air through my lungs, the swishing noise that my dress makes when I move my legs. Those are the sounds that echo through the house, but that will change. Soon all those sounds will be drowned out, replaced by sweeter sounds, sounds that are more pleasing to my ears and to my heart.

Opening my door I step in to my room and make my way over to my bed. I kneel before it -if anyone were to walk in at this moment it would most likely appear to them that I am praying- and start to rummage underneath it for a few minutes. My seeking hands soon find the object that they are so desperately searching for, and I pull with all my might. Dislodging the precious item from it's hiding place beneath my bed.

A small smile spreads across my face, and my heart fills with joy as the chest comes in to view. It's like seeing an old friend for the first time in years. There are subtle changes yes, but deep down you know that it is still your friend looking back at you. That is how I feel as I gaze downward. It has been almost a month since I last saw it…

The chest when it was new, was made of the finest wood money could buy, and it was stained a deep red. Golden hinges and a golden rose engraved on the top further enhanced the beauty of it. But now, the stain is fading so that it is shades lighter then the original color. The wood is scratched and knicked from wear and tear. The hinges no longer adorn it, removed from it a few months after it was purchased and pawned to buy food for the table in a time of need. And the rose, the beautiful golden rose that once stood out against the red of the wood has become black, from years without polish.

At least that's how I like to picture the chest. In reality it is not a chest at all, but a box. A dull brown box made out of oak that was giving to me by my father shortly after my mother died. It was hers. I don't know what she kept in it though, when I received it, it was empty. All traces of her removed from it before it was handed down…but I think she kept something special in there, perhaps she kept love letters from my father or pictures of her parents from when they were younger.

I can picture it now. My mother, with her short brown hair and her deep brown eyes-Akane looks so much like her that at times it is scary-, sneaking away to her room, sitting down on the floor, much like I am doing now, and opening the box that contains her most prized possessions. Carefully she reaches in and pulls out a letter from a small stack; her hand brushes the black silk that adorns the inside as she removes it and she smiles. She glances around the room and makes sure that she is truly alone, and then with a sigh she commences to read the letter that she holds in her hand.

It is a love letter, written to her on the day of her wedding, and it is the most beautiful present that she received that day. Within the pages of the letter there is a pledge, a pledge of true love. A love that will not fade, will not dissipate with the passage of time, but only grow. There are other promises within the note, like the promise to be together always, and to raise a healthy happy family, and other such promises that her future husband can not say aloud, but none would be as important as that first one. That first promise would be what held their marriage together until their dying days.

If only I knew that my history of the box were true, that it really was a hiding place for my mothers secret treasures. But, there is no way to find out. I can't approach father and ask him, he breaks out in to tears at the very mention of my mother. Proof that he really loved her, or that he is just a weak man? Whatever it is, it is pointless to ask.

That is the reason I make up a new story to add to the history of the box each time that I see it. Already it has been a jewel box, an urn, an arms holder, and numerous other things. However, there always seems to be a common theme to the articles that the box holds. They are all precious. Every thing that has ever gone in the box, or anything that ever will go in it, has meant something to someone, whether it be the remains of a loved one or, a priceless weapon that protected a loved one from harm in battle. They are all precious enough to someone to warrant a safe place, something that will keep it safe from harm, out of reach of the elements and prying eyes. That is what the box is for.

Unlike the previous owners that I like to invision, I do not keep jewels in the box, for I have nothing to wear them to. I do not keep the ashes of a loved one in it, for the simple reason that my father will not let me. I do not keep weapons, or potions, or anything that has to do with battle, I'm not the fighting type. And, I do not keep love letters, or pictures of long forgotten friends, I have no love to write to me-the only romantic prospect that is currently in my life can't talk to me, let alone write-and no friends to take pictures of. One day I might have all those things…well except maybe the battle stuff, like I said I'm not in to fighting…but, for now I'm happy with what I do have hidden safely within my precious heirloom. For it is something that fills my heart with joy, and makes me forget about the hectic chaos that is my life.

It is a secret that I keep hidden from my family, for I fear that if I told them they would not understand. They couldn't understand. Sometimes I think about telling them, letting them know what it is that truly lets me feel free but something holds me back, makes me keep this secret safely inside. I think it's fear, I'm afraid that if they ever found out they would make me stop, and the thought of stopping scares me to death. It took me years to find something that I could just call my own and now that I've found it I don't ever want to let it go.

I slowly take the lid off the box to reveal the pair of slightly worn pair of shoes, and I smile brightly as I think back to the first time that I wore them.

It was a warm day in spring and I was out getting some groceries that I needed in order to prepare the nights meal. As I passed by the shops I casually glanced into the various windows trying to find things that Akane might like for a birthday present. It was then that I saw the shoes. They seemed like they were waiting for me to walk by the dance studio and spy them, because when I saw them they seemed to glow, it could have been a trick done with lights but it doesn't matter to me. I will still say to this day that they glowed.

I don't know what came over me as I stared in the window but I suddenly decided that for once in my life I was going to do something just for me, and the others -as Nabiki would most likely say- could just go screw themselves. Before I could think I was rushing in to the building buying the shoes and signing up for dance lessons, it was the quickest decision that I ever made and it also turned out to be the best.

The lessons were hard, and tiring but that never seemed to matter to me. I used them as an escape. When I was taking the lessons I wasn't Kasumi the cook, or Kasumi the cleaner, or Kasumi the surrogate mother, I wasn't any of those things. During the lessons all of those labels that had been placed on me just seemed to vanish and I became Kasumi the girl. My memories drifted back to happier days, days when my mother was alive and when daddy didn't cry at the drop of a pin. When I had such hopes about my future. I wanted to be a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, a musician, a TV star; I wanted to have a fairy tale romance. I wanted to be it all and have it all. I wanted a life, to live, and look what I ended up with. I'm twenty years old, never been kissed, never gone on a date actually, never even thought about going to college or university…I don't have time for stuff like that, my family needs me.

I sigh slightly feeling suddenly depressed and force myself to put the shoes on my feet even though I am now not in the mood to dance. Standing up I hear the comforting click clack of the heals striking the floor as I walk from my room down the hall and in to Nabiki's. My eyes slowly scan over her collection of CD's until I find the disc that I want, grabbing it off the shelf I feel my spirits slowly start to rise, and I can't wait until I hear the music blaring over the stereo.

I can't help myself, I run out of the room down the stairs and directly to the stereo. Putting the disc in to the player I grab my partner and wait for the song to begin. True my partner at the moment is only a broom but eventually I hope to have a real one, then I can do what I most want to enter a competition and show to my family that there is more to my life then just looking after them.

The music starts and I hold the broom out to arms length, close my eyes and then spin in to it, I then slowly start the steps that lead in to the dance, counting the steps out in my head as I go. Halfway through the song I decide that I no longer need the broom…it's having difficulties keeping up with me… so I let it fall to the floor with a clatter and continue to dance my way around the house with my imaginary partner leading the way. I'm so rapped up in what I'm doing that I fail to hear the door open and shut with a slam, and it isn't until the song finishes do I realize that I am no longer alone.

I'm in the hallway bowing to my partner when I hear a soft shocked gasp and an uncomfortable clearing of a throat. I slowly straighten out and open my eyes only to find myself looking into the shocked faces of Ranma and Akane. Unconsciously I lift a hand up to my neck and start playing with a lock of hair. "Um…Welcome home?"

I have a feeling that I'll have some explaining to do.