Yes, really do read Tendo-Saotome Anything Goes first. Well, or be confused. I'm okay with that if you are.
Part One: Underneath
Dawn quietly touched the sky and the mountains, a silent miracle after such a long, hard night. Three travelers watched it silently, quietly taking it in.
There was a thick mist snaking through the valleys below them. It would burn off, soon; but for now, the entire world was a dreamlike realm halfway between waking and sleeping, all white tendrils and grey sky. It was as though something secret or sacred was veiled below, something that hid under cover of mist, that would withdraw at a hint of sun or wind.
"What do you see?" the redhead inquired softly.
The smaller of the two remaining travelers hunched over the dirt. "A fire," he replied.
"What else, Hikaru?"
Hikaru paused, examining the footsteps of their quarry. "Pacing. He's upset."
The redhead turned to her remaining pupil. "Kuno?"
The taller young man, rubbing at the beginnings of a sparse beard, examined the earth. He took the ash from the old fire and rubbed it between his fingers. He stirred it, felt underneath the fire-marked, dead sticks. "He was here at least four days ago."
Hikaru eyed his sempai with raised brows.
Kuno tugged the smaller boy back to the ashes impatiently. "Feel," he commanded.
Hikaru frowned at the taller boy in reproach before gamely poking amongst the fire's remnants. "Dry underneath," he commented, surprised. "Drier, anyway."
The three exchanged glances. It had been raining, drizzling, or faintly misting for at least an hour or two during the day, for the past four days. Each of them thought back with fondness to the last time they'd been completely dry. The redhead nodded absently. "So we're still at least four days behind, maybe as much as a week." She eyed Hikaru, and sighed.
"You won't leave me behind, Ranma," Hikaru said firmly, but with the practiced air of an oft-repeated phrase.
"No," she agreed. "I won't."
"I'll just go faster, that's all." Hikaru stood, brushed himself off. "Are we going to continue tonight, then?" His voice was full of forced cheer.
Kuno and Ranma stared, both at Hikaru, then at one another.
"It's been twenty hours or more," Ranma finally replied, flatly. "I may consider Ryoga my responsibility, but he's not worth your life."
"I feel fine," Hikaru replied. He eyed his companions carefully. "But, well, if you two weaklings are tired, I guess I understand," he conceded.
Ranma rolled her eyes and Kuno murmured something mostly inaudible, but both began to set up camp. Ranma shifted her pack to one shoulder, then slipped it to the ground with a small but grateful sigh. Kuno started to pitch their tent with the ease of long practice, and Hikaru began to gather some damp firewood. Together, they had camp struck and dinner – or breakfast – simmering in less than ten minutes.
Hikaru didn't really like the jobs he'd been assigned. Although Ranma's word out here was sacrosanct, he resented being given all the traditionally female jobs, like gathering wood, starting the fire and bringing the drinking water to boil. Although he likewise didn't think those jobs should be Ranma's, necessarily, Hikaru thought it would be fairer to rotate. Instead, it had evolved into a pattern, everything sliding into place with an ease that Hikaru found almost disconcerting. Although training was different every day, evening – or the trio's version of it – was always precisely the same, and, due to that regularity, striking camp was evolving into something of a ritual.
In that case, should my title be Sanctifier of the Water, or Bearer of the Sacred Flame?
Hikaru snorted, but also didn't really pause in what he was doing. Ranma arrived with a heavy waterskin containing lake water. Hikaru already had the pot ready for her. When Ranma poured the water inside, Hikaru hefted the filled pot to hoist it over the flames.
When Kuno had wondered why it was necessary to boil the water before drinking it, Ranma had launched into a surprisingly detailed lecture on microorganisms and their survival rates at certain temperatures. Hikaru sometimes wondered if he was rubbing off on the redheaded girl, but he kept this idea to himself.
Privately he thought that Ranma was still trying to keep them up with school somehow, and that this at least partially alleviated the guilt she felt for taking them from house and home. When she thought he was sleeping, Hikaru sometimes caught the redhead peering at her Biology textbook with a small flashlight in her hand and a frown of concentration on her face. Ranma did it in a subtle fashion, sometimes disguising her lessons in the form of what seemed suspiciously like casual conversation, but every now and then she would bring out a purely mathematical problem or ask Kuno to recite a story or poem. Without television, movies, the mall, or even school to entertain him, Hikaru found himself looking forward to these informative sessions with an obscene amount of anticipation. And naturally, there was the course in survival training he was absorbing minute by minute.
Hikaru had always considered school too slow, geared to morons, but he hadn't realized just how much of his time and attention it seemed to occupy. In its absence, he was running out of things to think about.
During the long marching hours, he sometimes zoned out completely, stumbling possibly upon the 'mind-no-mind' thing Ranma had discussed once with him towards the beginning of his training, back in Nerima. At the time, he hadn't understood. After all, how could you have intention, move, and react without thinking about reacting, without planning the reaction? Yet now he did it daily: he walked, skirted obstacles, climbed, helped Kuno or Ranma up behind him without disturbing the curious blankness of his mind. When someone asked him a question, or bumped into him, or it was time to stop and make camp, he woke from his very long, very peaceful dream. Hikaru found it more than a little disquieting that he had been walking for sometimes hours on end as a blank slate. When someone calling his name startled him, it would suddenly come to him that yes, he was Hikaru – that the name they were calling was his, that he was here, in the Bayankala Range – that he was here, hunting for Ryoga Hibiki; and finally that it was Ranma's voice that had called him back to earth.
Frankly, discussions of Trichonella and E. coli were quite welcome after that.
The water in the pot was boiling as Kuno snapped the three sleeping bags side-by-side in their tent. The ersaz-kendoist dusted off his hands and grinned at Hikaru, striding to sit across from him on the other side of the fire. "If we two weaklings are tired?" he inquired coolly.
After a few weeks with nothing but one another's company, Kuno had developed the habit of beginning a conversation three-quarters of the way through, or picking up an old conversation long after it had supposedly been concluded. Hikaru had the sneaking suspicion he was beginning to do the same thing. Anyway, much as it annoyed him, it wasn't like he could pretend he didn't know what Kuno meant.
"Yeah," he replied blithely. "Maybe it's your age, Kuno-sempai. I feel great."
Kuno frowned at him. "Feh." The kendoist paused to dip his waterskin into the boiling water. After it had filled, he drew it up, repeating the process for Hikaru's, then Ranma's waterskins. "After we get out of the lowlands, this won't be quite as much of a problem," Kuno commented idly.
Hikaru nodded, adding their dehydrated soup to the rest of the water.
"There any more of that jerky left?"
The smaller boy raised his eyes to Kuno's in sudden surprise. "You mean the stuff you said tasted like a cross between a chicken, a groundhog, and a chemical plant?"
Kuno sighed. "We need it if we are to keep this pace for much longer." He sighed again, looking strangely dejected, for Kuno. Whether the kendoist was spouting poetry, tromping through the hills or being the True Blunder of Furinkan High, he seldom evinced dejection.
"What is it?" Hikaru inquired.
Kuno barked a laugh, shaking his head in consternation. "I surprise myself. I... I am missing my sister, Kodachi."
"Missing her? Why is that strange?"
Kuno eyed him. "You haven't had the displeasure of meeting my twisted sister... She's... strange. Even for our family, she's strange."
"Then why do you miss her?"
The kendoist grabbed a handful of the turf beneath him in frustration, yanking up a handful of strange plants and a chunk of good, dark earth. "Do you know what this is?"
Wondering if this was the opening to one of the kendoist's convoluted philosophical conundrums, Hikaru shook his head.
Kuno's actions echoed the smaller boy's. "Neither do I. Kodachi would know. She's an aspiring botanist. I was simply thinking that our diet would be a lot richer if I'd thought to bring her along."
"She knows that much?"
Kuno shrugged. "I hadn't been... paying much attention to Kodachi until recently; but I believe she might. At least, she would know quite a bit about it. She also recognizes poisons by taste, and, fate being with us, she could have easily have told us what not to eat."
'Fate being with us'? And what's that supposed to mean?
"She has a habit of testing poisons on me before imposing them on others," Kuno replied. "Her version of quality control, I suppose."
Hikaru blinked. Another new habit of the kendoist's was answering questions Hikaru hadn't actually asked. He had the feeling Kuno would know him better than he knew himself, once this was all over. He wasn't sure he liked the thought.
"Wait a minute. Before imposing them on others?"
Kuno nodded. "She uses poisons to fight. My sister is a martial artist who can't stand to lose. She doesn't care much for honor; she's manipulated me to take care of more than one enemy."
Hikaru nodded. "Sometimes I'm glad I'm an only child."
The kendoist laughed, and stirred the soup.
Ranma returned from the woods, carrying a handful of greens in one hand. Hikaru's mouth watered; any time they added something fresh to the soup, it made all the difference in the world.
The redhead lay the greens by the pot and began naming them: "Dandelion, watercress, ground ivy," she announced, showing Hikaru and Kuno the leaves.
"Dandelion?" Hikaru inquired. "You're kidding me."
"That or chicory," Ranma commented, tossing them in the pot. "Either way, it's good to eat."
Hikaru shook his head in amazement, in tandem with Kuno.
"Who would ever have thought that the scion of such a noble house as Kuno should be reduced to tossing dandelion greens in the pot over an open flame?" Tatewaki mused.
"And grateful to get them," Hikaru tacked on.
Ranma eyed them balefully. "There's nothing wrong with wild stuff," she chided. "You two have lived in the city too long." She stirred the pot with a spoon, inhaling deeply. "Pops did bamboozle a lot of people into giving us a free meal when he could, but when he couldn't, we ate like this. It always tasted much better to me, this way." A smile of quiet reminiscence was on her face. "He used to tease me, called me wild man that I liked this better than a restaurant in Nanjing. He..." Ranma flushed, then paled, the smile easing off of her features.
"...Lady?" Kuno prompted gently.
Hikaru sighed. Kuno always seemed to know how to handle the redhead whenever she descended into one of her moods. He wished he knew how to deal with others half as well as the kendoist.
Ranma shook her head free of whatever had snared her. "Never you mind," she replied cryptically. "It's not important."
Kuno nodded, as though he expected this was all the information he'd get. Hikaru watched silently under the guise of retrieving their bowls from the pack he carried.
After a moment of heavy silence, the redhead continued. "It's just... I like to think of Pops as an idiot, y'know, someone sort of below everybody I respect... but he understood about plants an' animals way better than maybe I ever will, and he was an amazing martial artist. I always got the feeling that he was keeping back far more than he ever showed me... and... and still, he taught me everything I know. So if he's a fool, then what am I?"
"Just the son of a fool," Kuno replied thoughtfully. "So am I. Yet two more different people than you and I would be hard to find; it is not our fathers who have made us. Although our fortunes dictate the path beneath our feet, they do not dictate who we are. It is our response to the obstacles in our way, and to our triumphs, that display our quality most clearly."
Hikaru stared blankly at the kendoist. For the first time ever, he felt motivated to draw another guy. His right hand twitched briefly as though in search of coal or canvas, before he reminded himself that he didn't draw guys, that there could be something strange in it.
Ranma blinked at Kuno in the way Hikaru sensed he was doing, himself. After a moment's consideration, Ranma nodded thoughtfully. "You're something else," she said quietly to him, and Hikaru felt an unexpected stab of jealousy. He hadn't ever heard quite that much respect in Ranma-sensei's voice – at least, not since he'd seen her with Akane.
The kendoist appeared briefly startled, alarmed; then he flushed, looking perplexed at having gotten a patented Kuno-soliloquy pitch-perfect. It was hard to be angry or resentful towards him for stealing Ranma-sensei's attention when he obviously couldn't decide whether to be pleased or alarmed by her regard.
For awhile they sat together, companionably silent, sipping soup. Hikaru didn't want to admit it because of his initial, loud complaints, but he was beginning to feel a little wild, himself. There was something about constant fresh air, exercise, and still chi-filled food that made him think of staying out here forever. It was ridiculous, of course. He knew he was brilliant because everyone told him so, and because school seemed so easy; he was headed for Tokyo U. That was what his parents told him, anyway.
Still, it was fun to entertain the idea of building some kind of cabin or something, way out here in the middle of nowhere with no one to bother him... Hikaru nodded to the others, and, after scrubbing out his bowl, retreated into their tent and brought the sleeping bag up over his cold frame.
"With no one to bother me," he whispered quietly as sleep overtook him. But no, that wasn't quite right. At least two people would be welcome...
Hikaru dreamed that Ranma and Tatewaki were helping him build a cabin up on a very tall mountain. The only problem was that the pair of them seemed very clumsy about where they placed the beams and supports, seeming to tear down more than they were erecting. Hikaru became arrogant and frustrated, wondering why they couldn't see the damage they were doing. Eventually, though, the thing stood, and even looked sturdy. Ranma went to fetch water and Kuno went off to hunt and Hikaru was left blessedly alone, to do nothing but gaze out over the world beneath him and take in deep, gusty breaths of mountain air. He was safe; he never had to worry about college entrance exams again.
Eventually, though, Ranma returned, with an additional guest. With surprise, Hikaru noted that it was Akane, but she looked different, somehow, some way he couldn't pinpoint. Still, now he could die happy. Then Kuno came back, but he brought his sister along. Hikaru had never met Kuno's sister, but he was certain it was her. Her eyes were dark and flashing, and she carried two dead doves over one shoulder for their supper. He wondered if she had poisoned them.
Now Akane was bringing her sisters behind her, and Ranma her father, and Kuno his father, and Hikaru noted with panic that his own parents were mounting the hill, his mother worried to the point of panic, his father sweating and cursing his way towards the cabin, which suddenly didn't look so safe anymore...
This is getting ridiculous, he thought, gazing at all the people surrounding his isolation, and then he was awake all of a sudden, some motion outside the tent drawing his attention.
"He's asleep," Ranma's voice announced.
There was a small pause.
"Kuno, do you think I'm pushing him too hard?"
There was another, shorter pause. "No, Lady, I don't."
"But when you say it like that, you make me wonder. Have you noticed when you call me Lady?"
A small chuckle. "I hadn't, but I'll keep an eye on it in the future, and report back."
Ranma's higher, more energy-filled laugh accompanied his. "You do that." There was another silence, this one so lengthy that Hikaru was beginning to drop off again. Then, cutting through the silence, Ranma's voice suddenly sounded, sweet and swift and sure: "Kuno, why are you here?"
"I am your student, Ranma," he replied with hardly a pause.
Consternation echoed in the redhead's voice. "And why are you my student?"
"We've had this discussion." Tightness was in the kendoist's.
"And I still don't understand. Why are you following me? Why is he?"
Hikaru's eyes flashed open. All thoughts of sleep vanished. He heard a loud pop – one or both of them was anxiously stoking the fire.
"I cannot speak for Hikaru," came the boy's careful reply, "but I think I hear your true question hiding behind the others. I cannot answer it. If I had better poetry, I might give you a shadow of it, Lady, but I'm poor in the ways of poetry." Hikaru could hear his smile behind the words. "I'm like a miser with it – I collect it and hoard it and never know the right moment to let it go."
"You certainly seem to be on cue tonight."
Kuno cleared his throat. "What I mean is that you are like that fire, like strange chords in some faraway music. You make me want to listen, to watch. I feel there is something sacred, something real and true within you. Those chords, that music, it echoes in me when I am around you." A pause. "I find what is real and true within myself, when I am in your presence."
Hikaru's body sang with tension, every nerve fiber straining to hear what Ranma would say next. When it came, her voice was full of quiet surprise, and a small tremor.
"Kuno..."
Hikaru strained to detect some emotion other than pleading in the redhead's voice, but could not. There was a subtle desperation in her voice that seemed to cut through Kuno's flowery words with ease.
"I know. I know it," he replied, cryptically, to Hikaru's ears. "Please don't worry yourself over it, you have nothing to fear from me."
The younger boy squirmed uncomfortably in his sleeping bag, still trying to warm up and still attempting to understand. Of course Ranma had nothing to fear from Kuno; maybe from anyone Hikaru had ever met. So what was that supposed to mean?
The two of them quietly ducked into the tent, Kuno shucking his jacket before crawling halfway into the sleeping bag.
"Kuno," Ranma whispered, causing the kendoist to turn to her sleepily.
Hikaru watched out of the corner of one eye as Ranma tiptoed over to the other boy and paused before him. The redhead frowned as though trying to make some kind of important decision; then, after a moment of shifting her weight from one foot to another, she took one of Kuno's hands in her own and gently kissed him on the forehead.
"You're a good man," she told him firmly. Touching the kendoist atop the head in farewell, she snuggled rapidly into her own sleeping bag, shivering from head to toe.
Hikaru buried his face in the edge of his dark green sleeping bag, shivering from reaction and not from cold. Although the kiss had been promising, it was the hand atop the head and the firmness of her voice that countered the action...
Hikaru felt the distinct sensation of being watched.
Opening one eye, he viewed Ranma's large, bright blue ones only inches away from his. One of her legs lashed out and bruised his knee.
"Goodnight, voyeur-san," she said with an air of finality, turning her back to him and wiggling even farther down into her scarlet sleeping bag with a distinct huffiness. She obviously hadn't liked Hikaru witnessing one of her rare moments of tenderness.
Outside, the temperature dropped to forty degrees. The three travelers unconsciously eased towards one another in sleep, not quite touching, their body heat mingling slightly in the warmth of the tent and the dying glow of their tamped fire. The sun shone razor-sharp above them.
When Hikaru woke, it was not quite afternoon. He stretched his arms above his head and groaned, surprised he'd been able to sleep after last night's mysteries, but his body overrode his emotions and his sleep had been unexpectedly dreamless.
Kuno was still softly snoring beside him, but Ranma's bright red bedroll was already neatly tied up, soft late-morning light illuminating it in warm patches of color. The sound of insects and a faint, faraway rush of water were gentle counterpoint to the rustlings of his vinyl sleeping bag, and to Kuno's far louder snores.
"Hey, man. Wake up." Hikaru leaned over and shook the kendoist by the shoulder.
"The blade is mine and you cannot take it," Kuno murmured, turning away from him.
Grinning wryly to himself and issuing a small chuckle, Hikaru decided that the upperclassman needed a bit more sleep. Rolling his own bedroll took a matter of moments, and then he was outside the tent, breathing in the mountain air.
There was a lot of wind, and it was genuinely chill; but the fresh, earthy tang of dissolving leaves warmed by bright sunshine more than made up for it. A rapid motion in the bushes caught Hikaru's eye: a pair of sparrows were settling themselves into the confines of a mostly-denuded bush. A quick look at the position of the sun informed Hikaru that it was someplace around ten in the morning.
Ranma, of course, was awake. It was hard to catch the redhead asleep, as a matter of fact, Hikaru reflected. She was usually asleep after he was, and awake before.
Just now, she was doing a relatively simple wake-up kata, which informed him that she hadn't beaten him by too much. She'd want breakfast, soon, and she'd want to be back on Ryoga's trail before the sun rose very much higher.
He considered fetching the water and starting to boil it, but for awhile longer, he simply watched her, watched her limbs go through the almost-unnaturally graceful motions. He was proud that he recognized several of the stances she flowed through: crane style seemed to predominate. After a moment's consideration, he moved to stand behind her, imitating the motions, if not the grace.
When the redhead halted, she turned to smile at him. "Good morning," she breathed excitedly, her blue eyes snapping. "Didja sleep good?"
Hikaru nodded, returning her grin. "What about you?"
Ranma's eyes flickered from Hikaru, to the tent, then back. "Er, less good. But I feel great. This kind of weather is my favorite."
"Mine too," he replied automatically, although he'd never had the opportunity to think about it until now. "There's a... there's a good smell."
Ranma nodded at him gamely, as though she heard comments on the smell of weather every day. "More than that, though," she replied cryptically, a bright and solemn expression still on her face. "Not sure what it is...
"We're out of that jerky stuff." Her features scrunched up slightly in disgust. "That's all right, anyway. I'm going to go off and hunt. Why don't you relight the fire and set me up a spit? I'll be back in a half an hour or so."
Hikaru nodded and wandered off to get their full waterskins.
"Gos?"
Hikaru halted, surprised. "Uh... yeah?"
"Thank you," she replied with a small bow.
It took all he had not to gape in amazement. He had to wonder if it was the conversation between she and Kuno that had set her alight like this, but he didn't dare ask her; and before he could gather his courage, she was gone into the woods so silent he couldn't track her more than a moment. She merged with the wood and the water and the air, red hair and all.
"How does she do that?" he demanded of the forest in general, shaking his head. And when will I be able to? Hikaru startled himself by adding.
Starting the fire was easy, although it had once been quite difficult for the slight boy. Hikaru smirked confidently as he recalled his first pathetic attempts, rubbing two sticks together until his arms ached. Kuno rather than Ranma had finally taught him: no, no, he'd said haughtily, don't use two sticks. Use one. Take some dry pine needles and small, easily cracked twigs... rotate the stick between your palms... like so. When the needles begin to smoke, start to blow on them...
Hikaru was so lost in thought that he didn't notice the fire had caught until it was halfway to his hands.
"Eep!"
A low chuckle sounded from behind him.
Hikaru was startled enough to jump slightly at the sound. "Well, look who's finally awake," he stated flatly. "Glad you felt like joining us."
"If you had woken me, I would have joined you sooner," Kuno replied grumpily.
Hikaru stifled the urge to laugh. Kuno was not a morning person, not by any stretch of the imagination; his hair was sticking up in all sorts of odd positions, and his shirt was rumpled. Hikaru frowned when he realized that the combination actually made Kuno look more handsome rather than less so. Some guys had all the luck...
"Where is Lady Ranma?"
Hikaru sighed, but he'd long since gotten used to Kuno's appellation for the redhead. "Went off to hunt," he returned. He paused. "And probably to do girly stuff we're not supposed to even be aware she's doing."
Kuno looked perplexed. "What could that possibly be? You cannot mean makeup or any such inane device of woman; the Lady is not that kind."
"She's a 'special' kind of lady, that's for sure," Hikaru returned, "but I mean... you know. Washing her hair, and peeing, and..."
Kuno's eyebrows raised. "I see." His expression fell. "That's a shame. I was planning on bathing, myself. The stream we passed not a mile back was swift."
The problem is that she might have had the very same thought, Hikaru mused "Well, we are all men here, aren't we?"
Kuno tsked under his breath. "Really, Hikaru," he murmured in tones of utmost disapproval. At the same time, it was obvious he believed the smaller boy to be joking, or more serious berating would have ensued, possibly involving the words 'mete' and 'justice', and perhaps even 'smite'.
"She must take baths, anyway. Because she doesn't stink. I've noticed."
Kuno sighed, placing his head in one hand, then drawing his arm up to run that hand through his unruly hair. "Your speech is so delicate; I should think one would have to visit a brothel to hear such language."
"You know what I mean," Hikaru snapped back. He didn't really consider it important how Ranma-sensei kept herself April-fresh, whether it was through secretive bathing, chi, or some far more mysterious means. He was merely reveling in offending Kuno's admittedly delicate sensibilities. "Aw, c'mon. We don't know she's bathing. Let's creep by and see. If she's there, we'll turn tail. If not, we can slough off some of this grime." Now that he thought about it, the only thing marring the brightness and beauty of the day was he and Kuno. Small animals seemed to be passing out in the immediate vicinity.
Kuno was looking doubtful, his desire to be clean warring with the possibility of offending his Lady. "Well, one look can't hurt," he admitted. "But – if I find out that this is simply an excuse to get more material for that sketchbook of yours, I swear by all that's holy..."
I didn't even know he knew about my sketches... Hikaru gulped and nodded.
Together, the two of them tramped downstream, following the trickle of water that they knew would eventually lead to a wider stream and a small waterfall. For awhile, they chatted easily, carrying washcloths from their packs, soap, and shampoo. Hikaru had almost forgotten about his initial assumption concerning Ranma's whereabouts, when they arrived.
"Thank goodness she is not here," Kuno breathed, but Hikaru thought he detected slight disappointment emanating from the older boy.
"Yeah, heavens be praised," Hikaru tacked on dryly, beginning to strip. "Hey, it might be a good idea to wash our clothes while we're at it."
"And what will we wear back to camp?" Kuno inquired reasonably, removing his boots.
Hikaru blinked. "Er... good question. Guess we should have brought extra stuff."
"Ah, well," Kuno dismissed. He was already most of the way out of his clothing. "Banzai!" he exclaimed, jumping into the stream.
Hikaru grinned. "How's the water?"
"F-freezing!" Kuno admitted, ducking his head under the water and shaking his hair. "M-m-maybe this wasn't such a good idea?"
"Well, hurry up, I guess," Hikaru replied, tossing him the soap. Kuno fumbled with it for awhile before managing to hold on. He tossed Hikaru a dirty look in return. "Shampoo," he demanded.
The smaller boy rolled his eyes. "If you insist." He tossed the plastic bottle to the kendoist, who caught it deftly, then proceeded to lather his hair.
"Ahhhh... I'm frozen but I'm clean," he announced.
Hikaru shucked off the last of his clothing and jumped into the water, just as Kuno was pulling himself out.
"Aaaaahhh!!! Why didn't you tell me it was this cold?"
"I did, as I recall."
"You said cold, not ice!"
"It's October," Kuno added reasonably.
Hikaru dunked his head, then broke the surface to yell again.
"You're frightening Ranma-san's game," he tacked on.
Hikaru shampooed his hair roughly and rapidly, then spent as much time as possible under the water, scrubbing his hands through it to free it of soap and grime.
"We probably should have set up a fire and heated the water," Kuno continued, still in that far-too-reasonable tone.
"You're just enjoying this, aren't you?" Hikaru snapped. He settled lower, so that his eyes and the top of his head were the only things above water.
Kuno paused, one arm of his shirt hanging loose, the other slipping over his shoulder. "Hmm. Yes, I think I am."
If they hadn't been talking so loudly, they would have heard the sound of someone approaching from the woods.
"Hey you two, I thought I said to go and..."
Ranma froze on the bank, staring blankly for a moment at the two boys, one half-naked, the other completely naked.
"GAH!" she exclaimed, and spun around on one heel, showing them her back. "What do you think you're doing?!"
For a moment, neither boy knew exactly what to say. They exchanged a panicked glance; it was quite obvious what they were doing, but neither was certain what response the redhead wanted.
"Uh, getting clean," Hikaru finally piped up tentatively.
"It's October!" the redhead replied, her voice still sounding high-pitched and far too rapid, her words running together. "Chances are, you'll both be sick in a day or two! You'll be frozen, not to mention that you don't know what's in that water! Get out of there, now!"
Hikaru obeyed instinctively – a fact that he noted with slight surprise and more than a little irritation – before embarrassment shoved out any frustration he might have felt. He was standing, quite naked, in cold weather – only five feet away from a pretty girl. Wow. It's just like that nightmare, he realized dazedly.
Luckily, Kuno was there to hand him his clothing, or he didn't know what he would have done. He noted that the kendoist's clothing had somehow materialized on him, as well. "Do you really think the water might be contaminated, Lady?"
Ranma sighed, her shoulders slumping. "No. But the part about catching cold is very likely. Please don't do that again, okay?"
"What do you do, though?" Hikaru managed through his chattering teeth. "I mean, you look like you did when you left."
Ranma turned to face him, either having heard him finish up his last button, or aware in some other way that he was decent. "I use hot water and a washcloth," she replied.
"We assumed you must be creeping off to bathe because you didn't want us to..." Hikaru managed, swallowing the rest of his sentence.
"Huh?" She looked positively blank for a minute. "Because...?"
Kuno raised an eyebrow at her.
She looked down at her own body as though recalling it was there. "Huh? Oh! Oh, you mean..." She flushed slightly. "No, it's not that. I just... it's hot water, you know? I didn't want to..."
Hikaru sensed this was veering into Kuno-Ranma territory as opposed to Ranma-Hikaru territory, and busied himself abstractly with their bath things.
"Ugh, now it's my fault you'll be sick," she continued angrily, avoiding the issue they'd inadvertently raised, watching the both of them shudder violently.
She led them faultlessly but wordlessly back to camp, building up the fire and ordering them to sit by it while she skinned the pair of rabbits she'd found, eviscerated them, and positioned them above the flames.
Hikaru was feeling particularly foolish when he issued a small sneeze.
Ranma glared at him, but kept mercifully silent.
True to the redhead's predictions, Hikaru was feeling stuffed-up and miserable halfway through the day. Moreover, despite the cheery sunshine illuminating the fall leaves, the bite in the air made it impossible for him to get warm again. He sensed that Kuno was feeling the same way, despite the fact that the older boy seemed to be hiding his discomfort better. Ranma, for her part, confined her lecture to that one instance, not mentioning their misjudgement again.
Unfortunately, that did little to assuage Hikaru's sickness or his guilt. He should have known better than to think he was indestructible. There was something about being out here in the wilderness that made him think he could do anything; but he had to recall that he was human, after all. He had to have been high on endorphins to think that he could take a bath outside in mid-fall and not become ill as a result.
He decided to take the clog in the back of his throat as a lesson.
He was beginning to descend into the misery that went along with his colds, when Ranma issued a surprised exclamation. "Look!"
Hikaru frowned, bleary-eyed, as the redhead pointed. "Huh? What is it?"
"Can't you see it?" the redhead demanded. She frowned, pointing off into the distance. "See those little huts?"
Kuno squinted off into the distance. "Your eyes are better than mine, Ranma."
"Houses, I tell you," she reiterated. "We're nearing the string of villages around Jusenkyo."
Hikaru wrapped his arms tightly against an overhanging tree and leaned out over the verge.
The path they were following wound up through the mountains; and they were still very much on their way up rather than down. However, the valleys of many of the smaller mountains, as well as the lowlands, were visible from their high perch; and if one peered off into the distance, a small string of dots was visible, tucked down into various valleys, like drops of dew nestled in faraway flowers. The late afternoon light shimmered on grey-gold grasses and snow-capped peaks. Staring up at them, Hikaru marveled that he would soon be traveling there – provided Ryoga continued to climb, as he had been doing for quite some time now.
"Beautiful," Ranma said; but after a moment's consideration, she turned back to the path.
To Hikaru's newly-trained eyes, it was obvious that a person had been there, and been there recently (we're gaining! he realized.) Broken branches and bent grass spoke of the passage of something tall, taller than Ranma herself, by the height of the disturbed foliage. Prints around the size of Kuno's littered the ground. Either Ryoga knew nothing of tracking, was indifferent to being followed, or was too angry to pay attention to his comings and goings. Either way, his trail was pathetically easy to follow.
"Jusenkyo..." Hikaru breathed. "Wait. Does that mean we're in China, now?"
Ranma nodded. "Yup. We must've passed into it a day or two ago."
"And you didn't notice?" Hikaru wondered.
"Hey, it's not like there are any signs out here, ya know..."
Kuno chuckled. "Well, it is the first time I have been to this country." He surveyed the land as though he owned all within the sweep of his eyes. "I believe it agrees with me."
"Must be stupid," Hikaru returned with a smirk, "if it agrees with you."
The scratchy feeling at the back of Hikaru's throat seemed to intensify as they continued to hike up the increasingly steep gradient of the south-eastern edge of the Bayankala Range. He found himself continually swallowing past it, though that only seemed to help for a moment at a time.
"…only seen them here," Ranma-sensei chirruped, pointing out an ordinary-enough hawk.
Tatewaki postulated that the bird nested at high altitudes, but Hikaru's attention slipped away from the pair's conversation as he gazed around him.
Below the three travelers, a tiny river rushed forward – tiny, Hikaru suspected, only from his perspective, high above. A decidous forest carpeted the valley far, far below. Occasionally, a small pine peeked its pointed cap out from around the other trees, which were green, red, and gold. The leafy trees thinned the closer they drew to the foot of the mountain – at this height, Hikaru and the others were surrounded by evergreens and scrub brush.
Gazing upward and ahead, Hikaru saw the meandering slope, still marked by those signs of recent human passage, previously invisible to his eyes. Hikaru's thoughts wandered back to his home – what did his mother and father think of that hastily scribbled note he'd left them, placed on the kitchen counter where they couldn't fail to –
Hikaru banged into Tatewaki from behind.
The kendoist windmilled, grabbed onto Ranma-sensei and the pair of them fell through the air and onto the winding goat-path in a hilarious tangle of limbs. Hikaru couldn't stop himself from laughing.
"Sorry!" he exclaimed. "Guess you two had better watch where you're going," he quipped.
"Next time when I comment that we are halting," Kuno said icily, as he tugged the redhead to her feet, "perhaps you will listen." He turned to her and dusted some sand off of her shoulder. "Are you well, Lady?"
"Well-bruised," she replied. "Gos, be more careful!"
Hikaru rolled his eyes. "Sure thing, captain," he replied, bowing smartly. He over-corrected his upward motion and tilted backwards before catching himself. "O-ow," he managed quietly, trying to avoid attracting Ranma-sensei's or Kuno-sempai's attention. The last thing he wanted was for either of the others to start thinking he'd slow them down.
Luckily, the redhead had already turned away and set apart from he and Kuno to hunt and bathe herself, and Tatewaki was already removing their tent from his pack, shaking out the canvas and hunting around for the largest and flattest patch of earth to pitch it. Hikaru leaned over to collect some dried evergreen branches and paused. Perhaps, if he righted himself slowly enough…
…or not at all? The young martial artist found a likely spot and crouched low to the earth rather than bending down, snapping live wood when he couldn't gather enough dry, storm-fallen branches. Hopefully there would be enough dry tinder to induce the flames to catch.
Ranma emerged from behind an outcropping of rock an hour or so later, bearing a line of several fish, and a huge smile. "Biggest lake you ever saw," she commented, "just a mile or two up ahead – never seen anything like it!"
"Hey, Ranma," Hikaru ventured, pretending to be absorbed in delicately nurturing his growing campfire, "what do you know about altitude sickness?"
The pretty redhead crouched across from him, carrying the scent of salt, fish, and greenery. "Altitude sickness?" she queried with a blink. "Never heard of it. Why?"
Hikaru shrugged, trying to appear unconcerned. "No reason. Just thought it might be in one of your little speeches, somewhere."
Ranma raised one dark red brow and grinned wickedly. "You're right, Gos," she agreed, though her tone was dark and amused. "Perhaps we have had a bit too much talk, and too little action." She prodded him with her foot. "Go on, student – stand up!"
Hikaru gulped. Me and my big mouth. "Yes ma'am!" he exclaimed, hopping to his feet. Oh… he thought ruefully as the scenery blurred again. This sort of exaggerated obedience really isn't any good for me, is it?
"Today we're going to work on endurance training," Ranma continued, a wicked glint in her eye. She paused for a moment, obviously deep in thought, before her smile widened to an all-out grin. "Hikaru… why don't you take all three packs and walk to that lake I just mentioned? Think you can do that?"
"Sure," he said, rolling his eyes. Fuck!
"Great," she replied, smile dipping slightly. "There was a pretty blue stone the size of my fist right along the edge of the water. I think I might find a use for it. What do you say you bring it back with you? When you return," she finished solemnly.
"A token for a lady?" Hikaru demanded. He jerked his head back to Kuno, who was lounging behind them with his long legs stretched out towards the flames. "You've been spending too much time around him!"
The two idiots just grinned at each other.
"This isn't training!" Hikaru protested as he re-shouldered his pack, adjusting the straps. "It's torture!" He stomped over to the older boy's pack and managed to heft the slightly lighter parcel. "Heeeyyy," he exclaimed angrily. "Mine's heavier than yours!"
The dark-haired boy jerked his own chin towards their erected tent, and Hikaru flushed, realizing that the heaviest thing in Kuno's pack had already been removed.
"Oh."
Ranma approached the slight boy with a very solemn expression. "Hold out your arms," she instructed.
Hikaru did, and the redhead slid her own red pack over the back of his arms to lie flat against his chest. When she removed her support, he swung forward to fall flat on his face.
They laughed, the jerks! Grumbling, Hikaru dragged himself to his feet; something very prohibitive must have lived in his expression, because the redhead clapped both hands over her mouth to muffle her giggles.
"It's only a mile or so," she assured him, "so have fun! I want to hear all about it when you get back!"
"Sure," Hikaru grumbled, stomping loudly forward, his three packs tangling with the underbrush on either side of the small path as he wended his way upwards, leaving the verge behind. Secretly, though, he was curious, wondering how far he could make it with this much weight bearing down on him. Ranma's pack especially was an omnipresent pull forward; oddly enough, this helped him keep his balance since much of the path was now a literal uphill battle. At several points, he gave up walking and tugged his way up by leaning forward less than a meter – the path was definitely steeper than it had been only a mile before.
The redheaded little sadist must have known this, and yet she'd sent him forward – her faith in his perseverance emboldened him to continue, never mind the thumping in his chest, and the raw burning that had caught at his throat. Part of him exhulted as he gripped a bright evergreen to pull himself forward, relishing in the sharp, sweet scent that it released when he abused it: he could not have been here a month ago, managing this as well as he was; and two months ago, he would not even have been able to imagine it. He felt so proud of his relatively new strength that he had nearly reached his destination before he realized that it was quite possible the redheaded was not as sadistic as she was sardonic: that she and Tatewaki were roasting fish and wondering when he would abandon the trio of packs and his pride and return to them empty-handed.
She'll get her stupid rock, Hikaru vowed almost angrily, hoisting himself up onto a narrow ledge with only the strength of his arms. "And then we'll see who's…" Hikaru's voice dwindled to a whisper as the sight of the water reached him: "…who's…"
Clear, brilliant water stretched for what appeared to be an interminable distance, literally almost as far as the eye could see; though Hikaru realized it had to be some sort of optical illusion, one which dispelled when he focused on the two mountains that seemed to rise up right out of the water, framing either shore in the distance. Hikaru was stunned – spending his entire life so close to the ocean had somehow resulted in the misconception that the top of a mountain would be surrounded by valley, revealing a clear and empty vantage-point world. Instead, the top of a mountain only revealed – higher mountains.
It reminded him of martial arts.
Snow rimed these mountains – which seemed awfully closer than before, with only water between he and them – and it seemed to him that the ice stood closer to earth than ever. A tiny smattering of anemic evergreens was scattered about, thinning dramatically as he drew closer to the water. The breath caught in his throat had nothing to do with how sore it or his muscles were. He was suddenly and painfully grateful for the horrible, difficult hike, for the birdsong somewhere off behind and above him, for each and every crackling twig and fire-coloured tree, and for Ranma-sensei herself, for being perverse enough to order him to do this, and for himself, for being stubborn enough to obey.
He thought of trying to describe this place, and floundered – ached for a camera and immediately rescinded the wish. Nothing would ever be able to quite frame the sharp reality of it.
He abruptly recalled that he was looking for a blue stone.
Hikaru left the three packs a safe distance from the edge and approached the water. The lake was deep enough to be dark, but up close the water was bright and clear in the shallows. Kneeling, Hikaru could see small green and brown seaweeds clinging to the stones…
…which were everyplace. Though the lake was not technically a sea, it moved as though it were, gently climbing and receding along a variable shoreline. This gentle tugging had apparently formed a carpet of rounded, periwinkle-blue stones that Hikaru, despite having taken geology in school, hesitated to name. Stooping, he managed to unearth a good-sized one and heft it in his hand. It was the size and shape of a human heart.
He dusted some tenacious dirt away with his free hand, then rubbed the stone industriously with the edge of one tattered sleeve. He dipped it into the waters that had formed it for good measure.
The coupling of events gave him an idea. Maybe now would be a good time to wash some clothes…
Hikaru knew better, though. The sun was setting and the air was chilling, and he had best begin his return trip to Kuno and Ranma-sensei before the shadows grew very much longer. He found that he was reluctant to head back, despite the rosy glow that had come to mean back to camp, and quick! Sighing, the young martial artist took one last look at the water and moved to replace the packs, slipping the stone into his jacket.
Hikaru put his and Kuno's pack on backwards, the way that Ranma's had been, initially – he wanted the heavier pack behind him now, not inducing him to fall forward and down the mountainside. He knelt to slip Ranma's pack onto his back and stood with great difficulty.
Noting the position of the sun in the sky, he slipped downhill a bit faster; but he had to be cautious when it came to the steeper slopes, seating himself and using the tough, pliable branches of evergreens to ease his descent. He came to a particularly tricky spot and extended his foot to reach for a hold. Not finding one, he managed to extend his arms as well, until he was dangling from what smelled like a pine.
Nothing. He attempted to glance below, but the packs blocked his view.
Hikaru realized that this was the spot where he'd had to haul himself up by his arms the last time; he'd even jumped for this very same branch. He swallowed with anxiety, looking up at the small bird's nest tucked into the heart of the tree – he remembered this tree. He was certain that the earth was less than a half-meter below him.
Letting go of the branch required more bravery than anything Hikaru had ever done before. Heart hammering in his chest, he released the branch bit by bit until he was dangling by his fingertips.
Then, he let go.
There was a moment of confused terror and exhilaration before Hikaru felt his feet land on solid ground – he landed awkwardly, however, and his ankle throbbed slightly. He flexed it a bit – not a sprain, then, just a sore –
At that moment, Hikaru's ankle shifted, and suddenly there was nothing underneath it, nothing supporting it anymore.
The sudden loss caused Hikaru to fall to his right, and keep falling, as his leg disappeared into the dirt up to his knee; and for an all-too-critical moment, Hikaru was paralyzed by shock. He landed with a jarring thump on his side.
There was an ominous crack! and Hikaru felt his entire body jerk down and hold, the mountain creaking and breaking beneath him. Hikaru had no idea what had caused the shifting, but all that mattered now was escape. Hikaru rolled over very, very carefully, and –
Crash! Something broke apart under Hikaru, who fell for a split second before he was pulled up sharply enough to creak his ribs.
Glancing up, Hikaru saw that the top of Ranma's pack was caught on what looked like splintered wood, ancient and green with mold. Below him was a vast stretch of darkness.
The boy had just enough time to process this before the weight of the other two packs and himself ripped the first strap away, and then the second.
Hikaru fell tumbling to earth.
A/N: I admit that I scarcely know how to begin.
Needless to say, this tale posed an inordinate amount of difficulty for me. Although I could tell you a much longer story, it comes down to this: JSF is the closest to original fiction I've come in ages. Hikaru is basically a new character, Ranma is so altered that she might as well be. They're not in Nerima anymore - they're in a non-fictional location, for which I had to do a great deal of research. I had to invent a culture for the Amazons (as well as others, which I won't give away, here). I have a surprisingly enormous cast of main characters. The result is that I have produced a story that's more like a strange echo of Ranma 1/2 than a fanfiction based on it: mystical, weird, relationship-based, and epic in scale.
So in case you're wondering why on earth this took so long, that's your main answer. That, and Harry Potter hijacked me (as well as the rest of the known multiverse). The incarnation of Severus Snape is currently standing behind me and glaring over my left shoulder. I am currently ignoring him.
Which, you may imagine, takes a certain degree of fortitude.
For those of you on pins and needles for an update (are you there...? I hope...?) I can't promise much. This is really a juggernaut, one I am near-terrified to launch. I fear it will take over my entire existence if I let it. It really is Big.
Reviews help. No fishing intended, they really do. I love to hear people's thoughts and opinions; they prompt me to write.
Thanks for sticking with this!
-Kirinin