--Gekiganwing gekiganwing@lycos.com or jalanriggs@ignmail.com--
Holy crap, this is the first fanfic I've even attempted in
nine months. I thought up this one some time in January 2001.
Since then, I've been agonizing about its details... the title,
the themes, the filler material.
Well, I've decided to put all that away for now. Here is my
new story. It's in a "take it or leave it" format. Enjoy it
if you can, and feel free to give me some C&C. I ain't
stoppin' you.
By the way, this story is a bit dark. It has some continuation
and alternate universe elements, and a story element kind of
taken from a well-known story... but... well, you'll see.
Think of it in the way that the "X" movie relates to the
"X/1999" comics.
**
TAKE THIS KNIFE
a fanfic by "Gekiganwing" (Alan)
Part 1: Going Home
**
Ranma ignored his aching hand long enough to kneel by Ukyo's
gravestone. All around him, small drops of rain met the tall
green blades of grass. No one watched Ranma. If anyone had
been searching for him, they would have stopped on seeing his
cold, pained face.
(You were right, dear Ukyo,) Ranma thought, (Nobody can go
on living without affection.)
Slowly, he stood up. Ranma was currently nineteen, but his
mind rarely dwelled on the present. He was in his female body
at the moment, but neither of his bodies had noticeably aged in
the past two and a half years. However, He had grown mentally
old, and it showed--he knew when not to speak. Often, the only
people he talked with were the personages in his head.
He looked at the image of the spatula-wielding girl. She
was always there. She was always there at that last moment--
the slow, clouded afternoon when she stood in front of him,
taking the attack--
(I may forgive, but I never forget. I know you would do the
same,) he told Ukyo, (Therefore, I have chosen to stay in the
Nerima district. Perhaps when all the damage has been healed...
if that day ever arrives, I shall go to the world. For now, Ukyo,
I will learn the lesson you gave me.)
Ranma stood up and brushed the grass off his pants. He
reminded himself of his mission. It was time to do. Thus he
left the small, gated cemetary with no parting words.
*
Akane, sole proprietor of the Tendo dojo, washed her hands in
the sink. She knew they were not dirty--no, they were red and
chapped from too much cold water and rough towels. Yet she
dried her hands all the same. It was only the fifth time she
had washed them that day.
She walked back to the training room, but her eyes remained
fixated on the wood floor. By this time, Akane could trace every
line and indentation.
Over three years ago, Akane had trained in martial arts to
defend herself. In those sunshine-ridden days of high
school, she had several dozen young men chasing after her,
as well as the slightly more competent Tatewaki Kuno. But
Ranma Saotome had long since overshadowed each and every
one of them.
Back in her mythic past, she had two things to defend: her ego
and her virginity. The first had disentigrated with a single
sword stroke. One thought kept her sane--the constant reminder
that she had given up the second thing willingly.
Akane set up several blocks of brick, as she always had. With a
single strike of her fist, all three crumbled into useless
bits. Akane breathed hard, but she remained unshaken and
ready to fight.
So it was with her. True, she had the honor of the dojo to
defend. That was nothing. No, it was nothing compared to her
marriage. Akane told herself that without Ranma at home, she
would lose her last connections to the world of normal
people. If he left, she believed that perhaps even her life
would be lost.
(It always comes back to my hands,) Akane thought, (I can
take a life, or I can reach out to save someone. The
difference is negligible. The thought is terrifying.)
She went back to her weight training. She set her eyes on
the small, rectangular window. Slowly, the rain outside
subsided.
*
Ranma watched the bullet train leave the platform. The
afternoon weather continued to be breezy and damp. He
thought about it a second, for not a single person was
left at the train station. He considered the weather to
be the deliverer of an existential gloom. Ranma knew
the gloom quite well. He believed that if circumstances
had been different, the gloom would have driven him
to suicide, or even the point of a sword--
A man ran up to the platform. He looked to the horizon,
and saw the train quickly turning into a spot in
the distance. The man sighed deeply, then said, "Looks
like I'll have to wait a few minutes."
A moment later, Ranma snapped out of his memory-
induced trance. He turned his expression into a calm
smile. Feeling curiosity once again, Ranma also
looked at the vanishing train. He tapped his right
foot four or five times. "Sure looks that way," he
said to the stranger.
The man only shrugged. He took a seat.
Ranma took a seat as well. Though he did not know
what the stranger was thinking, he presumed the
man had his mind on the long wait. Ranma knew
a lot about waiting. Bullet trains were nothing
next to the family he had chosen to protect.
*
"Mr. Happosai, I'll be cleaning the entrance hall
if you need me," Kasumi said. Taking a broom in
hand, she left the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Soun Tendo sat down at the table with
his bowl of steaming noodles. He glanced at
Happosai, who sat across from him. Soun gave the
old master a questioning glance, but he did not
receive a reply.
As he had done frequently for the last four or
five days, Happosai held his head in his hands
and looked toward the floor. His eyes were
empty, as if he was lost to the world.
"You seem a bit depressed today, master," Soun
said to the old man.
"Not depressed, but angry!" Happosai exclaimed.
Though he had spoken clearly, he did not muster
the effort to look up.
Soun did not reply. He knew the cause of
Happosai's anger all too well.
From the adjacent room, Kasumi called out, "I'll
be cleaning up the front porch if you need me!"
Neither man replied to her statement. Both of
them needed the young woman. Saying such a
thing out loud, of course, was another matter
altogether.
"It's my entrance hallway. It's my front porch,"
Happosai said to himself.
Soun only nodded. His old master knew much more
of martial arts than he. It had been only a mild
surprise that Happosai knew much more about
real estate than he. Knowing the man's personality,
it had been a major surprise that Happosai not
only divulged the location of his own house,
but allowed Soun, Genma, and Kasumi to stay
there.
Happosai quietly added, "But at least she cleans
it."
"Yes. She does what she can."
*
Akane heard the short, staccato knock at the door.
She knew from the noise that it was not Ranma.
From the way things were going, it was one of the
all-too-typical persons who berated her. One of
them arrived, even eighteen months after the fact,
at least every week. These people had one of two
motives: to challenge her in savage combat,
or to repeat the same six "what was your motive"
questions the media always used.
A moment later, she opened the door just enough
to let some light in. "This is the Tendo dojo.
What do you want?" she asked. The question was
one she always used. By this time, she could not
say it in anger, nor could she say it in a depressed
tone. Her current voice registered only dull
boredom.
On the other side of the door stood a small,
nervous businessman. "I'm here from Cat Cafe
Headquarters," he said.
"Oh... sorry," Akane said to him, "I'll get the
message to you in a second. Don't mind me. I'm
not feeling very well." With that out of her
mouth, she ran to find the most recent memo.
Two minutes later, she returned with the memo
in a sealed envelope. "Here you are--this month's
official statement from my husband and I,"
she said as she handed it over to the man.
"Thank you," the businessman replied. He grew
somewhat flustered as he asked her, "Before I
go, is it true that--"
Akane knew exactly what he would say. Looking
deep into the man's eyes, she told him, "I
don't know what you've heard. But the act of
violence we committed is now in the past, and
I refuse to bring it up. One thing *you* should
know before leaving--" and here she drew a long
breath before stating, "--You can do a lot of
things with an decent kitchen knife. You can
even kill yourself with it. Or you can use it
to create wonderous things."
"I see," the man said, "Sorry for mentioning
the incident."
Just before Akane shut the door, she told him,
"Don't worry about it. Thank you, and goodbye."
*
As he wandered off the train, Ranma appeared
to be heading nowhere in particular. One could
have easily mistaken him for Ryoga--except that
the "lost boy" had not appeared in the Nerima
district since the wedding. From the way he
walked with heavy steps to the way he occasionally
talked to lamp posts, one could almost say that
Ranma had taken his place.
The neighborhood was quiet. All the typical hubbub
and nonsense of Nerima was calmed by the dull,
water-choked clouds. No threats pervaded the air.
There was still a chance that Ranma might be attacked,
but it was negligible. Therefore, he could walk
the streets and not have fear--at least, not have
anything to fear from the world.
He could see the Tendo dojo from the street. It
stood out not because of any neon sign, but
because of its aura. The house bore the aura of a
home.
"I see clouds," Ranma said to himself, looking
straight past the people passing by him, "and I
also see some sort of blade. I think it might be
pointing me home."
He walked on. He walked on through the large
puddles, but such things did not bother him.
*
Unbidden, the door of the Tendo dojo opened. Ranma
took off his shoes, hit the light, and called out,
"I'm home."
He was greeted warmly by Akane, who scowled at him
and let her battle aura glow a deep blue. "Ooooh!"
she exclaimed.
"Now that's exactly what I was expecting," Ranma
said with a laugh. He went into his fighting stance.
Akane pulled out a hammer, for it was a blunt and
nonlethal object. She shouted a wordless battle
cry, and charged at him. She gave Ranma a shot to
the head, and as always, he smiled in response.
If one had the viewpoint of a helicopter, one
could see the dojo bounce and shake. The violence
was back. For the moment, the damage of old love
and hate was forgotten.
**
Author's notes:
I could continue this story. All I'd have to do is
think up things for our protagonists to do. Y'see,
I have all the backstory thought up (or stolen),
and now I just have to imagine what could happen
next...
For the moment, I'm thinking of short chapters
each exploring a single theme. The second one, for
instance, might concern Ranma and Akane's new
careers. Presuming that the dojo can attract
students, how would they teach students? Of
course, assuming I keep going, the second chapter
may be about something completely different.
In any event, I could use some comments and
criticism. Write to me at:
gekiganwing@lycos.com
OR
jalanriggs@ignmail.com
Thank you.
-Alan "Gekiganwing"
People to thank for story ideas: Yasuhiro "Trigun"
Nightow, Watsuki "Wandering Samurai Kenshin" Nobuhiro,
Miho "Child's Toy" Obana, the staff behind "Princess
Mononoke," Zen, Literary Eagle, Chris Davies, Sailor Mac,
the Tom Dyron, and a whole bunch of other fanfic authors.
Created March 16, 2001. Ranma 1/2 and everything
is copyright 1987-2001 Rumiko Takahashi, Kodansha,
Kitty Films, Viz, and others. The author of this
story forfeits any rights to it. Feel free to
copy and use the story, and edit it at one's
discretion.
"I hate and love. And if you ask me how,
I can't say, but it shivers me."
Holy crap, this is the first fanfic I've even attempted in
nine months. I thought up this one some time in January 2001.
Since then, I've been agonizing about its details... the title,
the themes, the filler material.
Well, I've decided to put all that away for now. Here is my
new story. It's in a "take it or leave it" format. Enjoy it
if you can, and feel free to give me some C&C. I ain't
stoppin' you.
By the way, this story is a bit dark. It has some continuation
and alternate universe elements, and a story element kind of
taken from a well-known story... but... well, you'll see.
Think of it in the way that the "X" movie relates to the
"X/1999" comics.
**
TAKE THIS KNIFE
a fanfic by "Gekiganwing" (Alan)
Part 1: Going Home
**
Ranma ignored his aching hand long enough to kneel by Ukyo's
gravestone. All around him, small drops of rain met the tall
green blades of grass. No one watched Ranma. If anyone had
been searching for him, they would have stopped on seeing his
cold, pained face.
(You were right, dear Ukyo,) Ranma thought, (Nobody can go
on living without affection.)
Slowly, he stood up. Ranma was currently nineteen, but his
mind rarely dwelled on the present. He was in his female body
at the moment, but neither of his bodies had noticeably aged in
the past two and a half years. However, He had grown mentally
old, and it showed--he knew when not to speak. Often, the only
people he talked with were the personages in his head.
He looked at the image of the spatula-wielding girl. She
was always there. She was always there at that last moment--
the slow, clouded afternoon when she stood in front of him,
taking the attack--
(I may forgive, but I never forget. I know you would do the
same,) he told Ukyo, (Therefore, I have chosen to stay in the
Nerima district. Perhaps when all the damage has been healed...
if that day ever arrives, I shall go to the world. For now, Ukyo,
I will learn the lesson you gave me.)
Ranma stood up and brushed the grass off his pants. He
reminded himself of his mission. It was time to do. Thus he
left the small, gated cemetary with no parting words.
*
Akane, sole proprietor of the Tendo dojo, washed her hands in
the sink. She knew they were not dirty--no, they were red and
chapped from too much cold water and rough towels. Yet she
dried her hands all the same. It was only the fifth time she
had washed them that day.
She walked back to the training room, but her eyes remained
fixated on the wood floor. By this time, Akane could trace every
line and indentation.
Over three years ago, Akane had trained in martial arts to
defend herself. In those sunshine-ridden days of high
school, she had several dozen young men chasing after her,
as well as the slightly more competent Tatewaki Kuno. But
Ranma Saotome had long since overshadowed each and every
one of them.
Back in her mythic past, she had two things to defend: her ego
and her virginity. The first had disentigrated with a single
sword stroke. One thought kept her sane--the constant reminder
that she had given up the second thing willingly.
Akane set up several blocks of brick, as she always had. With a
single strike of her fist, all three crumbled into useless
bits. Akane breathed hard, but she remained unshaken and
ready to fight.
So it was with her. True, she had the honor of the dojo to
defend. That was nothing. No, it was nothing compared to her
marriage. Akane told herself that without Ranma at home, she
would lose her last connections to the world of normal
people. If he left, she believed that perhaps even her life
would be lost.
(It always comes back to my hands,) Akane thought, (I can
take a life, or I can reach out to save someone. The
difference is negligible. The thought is terrifying.)
She went back to her weight training. She set her eyes on
the small, rectangular window. Slowly, the rain outside
subsided.
*
Ranma watched the bullet train leave the platform. The
afternoon weather continued to be breezy and damp. He
thought about it a second, for not a single person was
left at the train station. He considered the weather to
be the deliverer of an existential gloom. Ranma knew
the gloom quite well. He believed that if circumstances
had been different, the gloom would have driven him
to suicide, or even the point of a sword--
A man ran up to the platform. He looked to the horizon,
and saw the train quickly turning into a spot in
the distance. The man sighed deeply, then said, "Looks
like I'll have to wait a few minutes."
A moment later, Ranma snapped out of his memory-
induced trance. He turned his expression into a calm
smile. Feeling curiosity once again, Ranma also
looked at the vanishing train. He tapped his right
foot four or five times. "Sure looks that way," he
said to the stranger.
The man only shrugged. He took a seat.
Ranma took a seat as well. Though he did not know
what the stranger was thinking, he presumed the
man had his mind on the long wait. Ranma knew
a lot about waiting. Bullet trains were nothing
next to the family he had chosen to protect.
*
"Mr. Happosai, I'll be cleaning the entrance hall
if you need me," Kasumi said. Taking a broom in
hand, she left the kitchen.
Meanwhile, Soun Tendo sat down at the table with
his bowl of steaming noodles. He glanced at
Happosai, who sat across from him. Soun gave the
old master a questioning glance, but he did not
receive a reply.
As he had done frequently for the last four or
five days, Happosai held his head in his hands
and looked toward the floor. His eyes were
empty, as if he was lost to the world.
"You seem a bit depressed today, master," Soun
said to the old man.
"Not depressed, but angry!" Happosai exclaimed.
Though he had spoken clearly, he did not muster
the effort to look up.
Soun did not reply. He knew the cause of
Happosai's anger all too well.
From the adjacent room, Kasumi called out, "I'll
be cleaning up the front porch if you need me!"
Neither man replied to her statement. Both of
them needed the young woman. Saying such a
thing out loud, of course, was another matter
altogether.
"It's my entrance hallway. It's my front porch,"
Happosai said to himself.
Soun only nodded. His old master knew much more
of martial arts than he. It had been only a mild
surprise that Happosai knew much more about
real estate than he. Knowing the man's personality,
it had been a major surprise that Happosai not
only divulged the location of his own house,
but allowed Soun, Genma, and Kasumi to stay
there.
Happosai quietly added, "But at least she cleans
it."
"Yes. She does what she can."
*
Akane heard the short, staccato knock at the door.
She knew from the noise that it was not Ranma.
From the way things were going, it was one of the
all-too-typical persons who berated her. One of
them arrived, even eighteen months after the fact,
at least every week. These people had one of two
motives: to challenge her in savage combat,
or to repeat the same six "what was your motive"
questions the media always used.
A moment later, she opened the door just enough
to let some light in. "This is the Tendo dojo.
What do you want?" she asked. The question was
one she always used. By this time, she could not
say it in anger, nor could she say it in a depressed
tone. Her current voice registered only dull
boredom.
On the other side of the door stood a small,
nervous businessman. "I'm here from Cat Cafe
Headquarters," he said.
"Oh... sorry," Akane said to him, "I'll get the
message to you in a second. Don't mind me. I'm
not feeling very well." With that out of her
mouth, she ran to find the most recent memo.
Two minutes later, she returned with the memo
in a sealed envelope. "Here you are--this month's
official statement from my husband and I,"
she said as she handed it over to the man.
"Thank you," the businessman replied. He grew
somewhat flustered as he asked her, "Before I
go, is it true that--"
Akane knew exactly what he would say. Looking
deep into the man's eyes, she told him, "I
don't know what you've heard. But the act of
violence we committed is now in the past, and
I refuse to bring it up. One thing *you* should
know before leaving--" and here she drew a long
breath before stating, "--You can do a lot of
things with an decent kitchen knife. You can
even kill yourself with it. Or you can use it
to create wonderous things."
"I see," the man said, "Sorry for mentioning
the incident."
Just before Akane shut the door, she told him,
"Don't worry about it. Thank you, and goodbye."
*
As he wandered off the train, Ranma appeared
to be heading nowhere in particular. One could
have easily mistaken him for Ryoga--except that
the "lost boy" had not appeared in the Nerima
district since the wedding. From the way he
walked with heavy steps to the way he occasionally
talked to lamp posts, one could almost say that
Ranma had taken his place.
The neighborhood was quiet. All the typical hubbub
and nonsense of Nerima was calmed by the dull,
water-choked clouds. No threats pervaded the air.
There was still a chance that Ranma might be attacked,
but it was negligible. Therefore, he could walk
the streets and not have fear--at least, not have
anything to fear from the world.
He could see the Tendo dojo from the street. It
stood out not because of any neon sign, but
because of its aura. The house bore the aura of a
home.
"I see clouds," Ranma said to himself, looking
straight past the people passing by him, "and I
also see some sort of blade. I think it might be
pointing me home."
He walked on. He walked on through the large
puddles, but such things did not bother him.
*
Unbidden, the door of the Tendo dojo opened. Ranma
took off his shoes, hit the light, and called out,
"I'm home."
He was greeted warmly by Akane, who scowled at him
and let her battle aura glow a deep blue. "Ooooh!"
she exclaimed.
"Now that's exactly what I was expecting," Ranma
said with a laugh. He went into his fighting stance.
Akane pulled out a hammer, for it was a blunt and
nonlethal object. She shouted a wordless battle
cry, and charged at him. She gave Ranma a shot to
the head, and as always, he smiled in response.
If one had the viewpoint of a helicopter, one
could see the dojo bounce and shake. The violence
was back. For the moment, the damage of old love
and hate was forgotten.
**
Author's notes:
I could continue this story. All I'd have to do is
think up things for our protagonists to do. Y'see,
I have all the backstory thought up (or stolen),
and now I just have to imagine what could happen
next...
For the moment, I'm thinking of short chapters
each exploring a single theme. The second one, for
instance, might concern Ranma and Akane's new
careers. Presuming that the dojo can attract
students, how would they teach students? Of
course, assuming I keep going, the second chapter
may be about something completely different.
In any event, I could use some comments and
criticism. Write to me at:
gekiganwing@lycos.com
OR
jalanriggs@ignmail.com
Thank you.
-Alan "Gekiganwing"
People to thank for story ideas: Yasuhiro "Trigun"
Nightow, Watsuki "Wandering Samurai Kenshin" Nobuhiro,
Miho "Child's Toy" Obana, the staff behind "Princess
Mononoke," Zen, Literary Eagle, Chris Davies, Sailor Mac,
the Tom Dyron, and a whole bunch of other fanfic authors.
Created March 16, 2001. Ranma 1/2 and everything
is copyright 1987-2001 Rumiko Takahashi, Kodansha,
Kitty Films, Viz, and others. The author of this
story forfeits any rights to it. Feel free to
copy and use the story, and edit it at one's
discretion.
"I hate and love. And if you ask me how,
I can't say, but it shivers me."