Shattered
A Ranma ½ Fanfiction by The Fickle Muse
Disclaimer: Ranma ½ characters and situations are copyright 1987 - 1999 by Takahashi Rumiko. Shogakukan Inc. holds Japanese publishing rights. Viz Inc. holds North American publishing rights. I do not own, nor do I in any way claim to own such a wonderful work. However, the following Fanfiction is mine, and I ask that any and all requests to use any or all of this Fanfiction be sent to EtherealScion@hotmail.com
Chapter 1: Solace in Isolation
I guess you're probably wondering who I am. Well, even if you're not, tough. Everybody around here calls me Keiko. I can't remember my last name, but it doesn't really matter what it is, though, since my family already disowned me anyways.
What am I doing in here if I seem so normal? I'll tell you why. This isn't just a place for pure, all out basket cases. That's what they'd like you to believe. It makes people less inclined to wonder about us, so that they can keep the hush up on. The people they put here - they're the type that the authorities deem too dangerous, or, in my case, that the family doesn't want to put up with anymore. It's sad, really. We're not bad people, yet the way people look at us from the outside, you'd think we were no better than zoo animals.
Anyway, what was it I was supposed to tell you again? Oh, right, the reason why I'm in here. I'm an aquaphile, an aquaholic. I love water, and I need it. Sounds strange, doesn't it? I had to have water. Everything I did, everywhere I went, there had to be water nearby. I would steal those water bottles they always turn upside down in the hallways at school. I had to have a glass of water in class. Sure, it doesn't sound bad now the way I tell it, but this is the mild stuff. I would literally drink gallons and gallons of water a day. I didn't care if it was my friend or the principal or anybody that I was talking to. Five-minute water breaks and thirty-minute bathroom breaks were a necessity. I once even camped outside my own house in an igloo just because it was made of ice and ice was frozen water. Of course, my former parents freaked out about it and absolutely forbade me from doing it. I just had to have it, though, and so I built one in my own room. Well, that was definitely a bad idea if I ever had one. I guess in the end the ridiculous water bills, petty theft charges, constant flooding, worrying, and local security threats just got to them, and so here I am now.
The first few months I spent here were pure torture. There's no other way to describe it. No matter what anyone might try to say to you about quitting anything cold turkey, it's a lie. Seriously, if you're ever addicted to something, get help, professional help. I felt like I was going to die of dehydration at the very least, of suffocation at the worst. Yeah, yeah, you're probably saying to yourself why anybody who loves water would fear suffocation. Fine, so my love of water isn't exactly the whole story as to why my family disowned me. I literally felt as if I would die without water.
Naturally, then, the first kind of therapy they had to try here was shock therapy. I can't remember many exact details, but I guess I must have went insane about it or something since nobody ever tells me what happened back then when I ask about it. Then, they got the brilliant idea of trying to wean me off it. I guess it works, because I don't actually think I'm going to die anymore, but I still feel like I'd go crazy if I had to go without water for any extended period of time.
Oh, wait. Hold on a second. They're bringing in another new patient. It's about time we have a new body in here anyways. It was getting boring in here. I wonder what she's in here for, though. She isn't fighting her escorts, and she doesn't exactly look like she's crazy or anything. Hey, maybe that means she's like me. I could use another friend around here. Okay, so I could use one friend around here.
What? Surprised that I don't have many friends, the way I talk about everything? I like to think of it as jealousy. A lot of the people in here have it worse than me. They always tell me that at least it was only my family that couldn't practically keep up with me, and that society didn't frown on me like them. It actually surprised me the first couple of times they talked to me. I have to confess that I was guilty of underestimating them myself, that I didn't expect them to piece two and two together. Maybe that was part of my problem. Oh, well, it doesn't matter anymore anyways. What really matters is that I find out why this new girl is in here.
Well, now this is a change. It doesn't seem like she cares one way or another where they decide to put her. Usually people either fight like hell I did or are just plain out crazy like some of the more, uh, colorful types in here, but this girl seems all but alive. It's almost creepy the way she lets them handle her like that, like nothing better than a rag doll. It isn't quite what I was expecting from somebody with such wild red hair either.
Wow, it sure got really quiet in here all of a sudden. Then again, I should've been expecting it really. That's the way it always is around here whenever they bring another body around. It's sad, but it's like we really aren't better than the people who put us in here, as we'd like to think. Maybe I should go over there and talk to her. She looks like she could pass for dead, and that's the way most everybody here is treating her right now. Curiosity turned to abandonment.
"Hey, you got a name? Mine's Keiko." I try to sound as cheerful as I can, but it's almost impossible. You could say that it's the fact that she never gave any indication that she knew I was talking, or that I even existed. Sure, that would've put a dampener on things, but even then, people used to do that to me, and I got used to it in a way. No, it's just getting near her. Call me paranoid, but it's almost as if she's giving off this weird aura, some vibes that screamed for anybody to go away and leave her alone.
Never one to be patient, I guess I either got sick, bored, or both of trying to talk to her. No surprise, really, since the conversation was one- sided. Anyways, there went that plan down the drain. Another opportunity wasted. Still, I can't get it out of my mind, wondering just what happened to her, what her story is for being put in here. Turning around to look her way again, I can't help but feel sorry for her, being stared at and poked at like a statue, a piece of meat or something. Part of it's my fault too, I suppose, for giving up on talking to her so fast.
The quiet locking of a door gently clicking shut draws my attention away, and I turn towards the sound to see a pretty young girl hurry over to the receptionist's desk. She's wearing a simple lavender dress that, while not all that impressive alone (heck, even I had more and fancier dresses than the one she's wearing), still is good looking and makes her appear better than a lot of other guests we get around here. She ties her hair in a loose ponytail, held in place by a white bow. From the looks of it, she seems like a nice, simple girl, probably in her early twenties, but the way she's talking with the receptionist, I'd say she acts more like she's in her thirties. There's something about the way she talks to her, persuasive enough to convince the hard line receptionist to, I take it, allow her to visit someone, as she's making her way towards a section of the building filled with rooms reserved for private meetings.
Usually they don't take anyone away from happy hour (yeah, how strange is that? We have happy hour here, of all places. I wonder if we shouldn't be running this place and putting the staff where we are.), unless it's a real emergency. It didn't seem like an emergency either, the way she was acting earlier, but maybe she's just that good at convincing people to do what she wants. It sure seems that way, anyway, as two guys come in. They look like they're headed right for me, but that can't be right, since I don't know that girl.
Oh, wait. Forget it. They're going for that new girl. Interesting. I think it's time for a little detective work. It's a good thing they don't require us to stay in the lounge during happy hour; rather, it's just that most of us want to be here instead of cooped up all day long.
Walking slowly back to my room, I wonder if it's possible for me to seem more suspicious. I never missed a happy hour to this day, and the staff know that, as they've had to force me back a couple of times, and here I am going back to my room, willingly, as soon as they bring the new girl to her visitor. Maybe it's just me being paranoid again, but still. the nerve of some people, calling us dumb and crazy.
Luckily for me, I have a nice room right next to one of the visiting rooms. It isn't often, but sometimes they use the room next to mine for meetings. If not, well, I'm just glad they have large air ducts and I'm pretty small. The only thing that sucks about listening in is that I can't see what's going on. I always have to make up some lame excuse if I use the vents and one of the staff catches me not in my room. Unfortunately, however, today we haven't really done anything that could really get me dusty, and so, I'm stuck listening.
Oh. There he is, finally.
"We'll be waiting outside just in case something happens," I hear a guy say before the door locks behind him.
Silence.
Great. This is going to be just wonderful. The girl's not saying anything and that new girl is about as animated as a rock. So what if I wasn't having all that much fun at happy hour? It beats being bored in here.
"Ranma, it's me, Kasumi. Can you hear me Ranma?" Hm. from the sound of things, I'd have to guess that new girl's name is Ranma and the visitor is Kasumi. It's strange; why name a girl Ranma?
"Ranma," Kasumi tries again, "Please. I know it must be hard for you. It's hard for all of us." She trails off, her voice starting to crack ever so slightly. Whatever happened, it must have been something really big. For someone like her to start getting emotional while being able earlier to convince the receptionist to let her visit without even appearing to get angry or excited or anything.
"Father, he's. he's still angry, but I think he's starting to forgive you." She's getting softer, and I lean closer to the wall to try to hear her more clearly. "Nabiki's still shaken up. she's not as scared as before though."
What am I getting into here? Sounds like a family that's even more messed up than mine. Well, not that mine was messed up. it was mostly just me, but still.
"You know, they didn't really mean to kick you out. Nobody really blames you for what happened, Ranma. They just got caught up in the moment."
"Please, Ranma. come back to us." I can hear her voice cracking a little more, and it really makes me boil inside. How can she, I mean, how can Ranma be so cruel to them? Okay, so maybe they did kick her out sometime ago, but that's no reason to shrivel up and die inside, especially when Kasumi, who I assume is related to all of them somehow, takes the time to visit and obviously wants to patch things up.
Maybe I should be angry with Kasumi and this "Nabiki" girl as well as their father, but I guess being me it's never been in my nature to get angry with my family. Sure, they abandoned me. Sure, they put me in here. Sure, they even disowned me. Still, I can't blame them, considering the problems I gave them. So what if I couldn't control it? I didn't even try to control my problem. If they're really responsible for putting me in here, I'm equally as responsible, if not more so.
Everyone makes mistakes. I made mistakes, my family made mistakes. From what I can hear, I take it Ranma and the others must have gotten caught up in something really big and made a huge mistake. Still, it sounds like they're ready to make amends. Hell, if my family came back and tried to patch things up with me, I'd at least listen to them.
Damn. I can hear her getting up, which can only mean the meeting's over. Well, at least happy hour's not over yet, so I should be able to run outside pretty quickly and see her leave.
Just in time too, it seems. As I make it back inside the lounge area, I see Kasumi walking slowly towards the front door. Hm. she doesn't look that much worse, except for the fact that she's walking with her head down-turned.
And here she is now, the one responsible for it all: Ranma. Looks like they're not even bringing her back here. I guess it would be the smart thing to do, since they probably heard the one-sided conversation going on. If I can hear it through the wall, I mean, of course they should've heard it standing just outside the door.
Oh, now this should be interesting. It should be very, very interesting, indeed. Why is that, you ask? The answer is very simple really.
She has the room next to mine.
Looks like things are finally looking up around here.
-End Chapter 1.
End Notes: This is not my first fic, but the first that I've decided to post for the general public to view here on FF.net. It's somewhat of an experiment for me, as 1st person POV is not my usual forte. I'm also working on a 3rd person POV of the same fic concurrently, and I'd appreciate it if you could drop me a review saying whether this style works for you or if you'd rather see the 3rd person POV. In any case, drop me some reviews!
A Ranma ½ Fanfiction by The Fickle Muse
Disclaimer: Ranma ½ characters and situations are copyright 1987 - 1999 by Takahashi Rumiko. Shogakukan Inc. holds Japanese publishing rights. Viz Inc. holds North American publishing rights. I do not own, nor do I in any way claim to own such a wonderful work. However, the following Fanfiction is mine, and I ask that any and all requests to use any or all of this Fanfiction be sent to EtherealScion@hotmail.com
Chapter 1: Solace in Isolation
I guess you're probably wondering who I am. Well, even if you're not, tough. Everybody around here calls me Keiko. I can't remember my last name, but it doesn't really matter what it is, though, since my family already disowned me anyways.
What am I doing in here if I seem so normal? I'll tell you why. This isn't just a place for pure, all out basket cases. That's what they'd like you to believe. It makes people less inclined to wonder about us, so that they can keep the hush up on. The people they put here - they're the type that the authorities deem too dangerous, or, in my case, that the family doesn't want to put up with anymore. It's sad, really. We're not bad people, yet the way people look at us from the outside, you'd think we were no better than zoo animals.
Anyway, what was it I was supposed to tell you again? Oh, right, the reason why I'm in here. I'm an aquaphile, an aquaholic. I love water, and I need it. Sounds strange, doesn't it? I had to have water. Everything I did, everywhere I went, there had to be water nearby. I would steal those water bottles they always turn upside down in the hallways at school. I had to have a glass of water in class. Sure, it doesn't sound bad now the way I tell it, but this is the mild stuff. I would literally drink gallons and gallons of water a day. I didn't care if it was my friend or the principal or anybody that I was talking to. Five-minute water breaks and thirty-minute bathroom breaks were a necessity. I once even camped outside my own house in an igloo just because it was made of ice and ice was frozen water. Of course, my former parents freaked out about it and absolutely forbade me from doing it. I just had to have it, though, and so I built one in my own room. Well, that was definitely a bad idea if I ever had one. I guess in the end the ridiculous water bills, petty theft charges, constant flooding, worrying, and local security threats just got to them, and so here I am now.
The first few months I spent here were pure torture. There's no other way to describe it. No matter what anyone might try to say to you about quitting anything cold turkey, it's a lie. Seriously, if you're ever addicted to something, get help, professional help. I felt like I was going to die of dehydration at the very least, of suffocation at the worst. Yeah, yeah, you're probably saying to yourself why anybody who loves water would fear suffocation. Fine, so my love of water isn't exactly the whole story as to why my family disowned me. I literally felt as if I would die without water.
Naturally, then, the first kind of therapy they had to try here was shock therapy. I can't remember many exact details, but I guess I must have went insane about it or something since nobody ever tells me what happened back then when I ask about it. Then, they got the brilliant idea of trying to wean me off it. I guess it works, because I don't actually think I'm going to die anymore, but I still feel like I'd go crazy if I had to go without water for any extended period of time.
Oh, wait. Hold on a second. They're bringing in another new patient. It's about time we have a new body in here anyways. It was getting boring in here. I wonder what she's in here for, though. She isn't fighting her escorts, and she doesn't exactly look like she's crazy or anything. Hey, maybe that means she's like me. I could use another friend around here. Okay, so I could use one friend around here.
What? Surprised that I don't have many friends, the way I talk about everything? I like to think of it as jealousy. A lot of the people in here have it worse than me. They always tell me that at least it was only my family that couldn't practically keep up with me, and that society didn't frown on me like them. It actually surprised me the first couple of times they talked to me. I have to confess that I was guilty of underestimating them myself, that I didn't expect them to piece two and two together. Maybe that was part of my problem. Oh, well, it doesn't matter anymore anyways. What really matters is that I find out why this new girl is in here.
Well, now this is a change. It doesn't seem like she cares one way or another where they decide to put her. Usually people either fight like hell I did or are just plain out crazy like some of the more, uh, colorful types in here, but this girl seems all but alive. It's almost creepy the way she lets them handle her like that, like nothing better than a rag doll. It isn't quite what I was expecting from somebody with such wild red hair either.
Wow, it sure got really quiet in here all of a sudden. Then again, I should've been expecting it really. That's the way it always is around here whenever they bring another body around. It's sad, but it's like we really aren't better than the people who put us in here, as we'd like to think. Maybe I should go over there and talk to her. She looks like she could pass for dead, and that's the way most everybody here is treating her right now. Curiosity turned to abandonment.
"Hey, you got a name? Mine's Keiko." I try to sound as cheerful as I can, but it's almost impossible. You could say that it's the fact that she never gave any indication that she knew I was talking, or that I even existed. Sure, that would've put a dampener on things, but even then, people used to do that to me, and I got used to it in a way. No, it's just getting near her. Call me paranoid, but it's almost as if she's giving off this weird aura, some vibes that screamed for anybody to go away and leave her alone.
Never one to be patient, I guess I either got sick, bored, or both of trying to talk to her. No surprise, really, since the conversation was one- sided. Anyways, there went that plan down the drain. Another opportunity wasted. Still, I can't get it out of my mind, wondering just what happened to her, what her story is for being put in here. Turning around to look her way again, I can't help but feel sorry for her, being stared at and poked at like a statue, a piece of meat or something. Part of it's my fault too, I suppose, for giving up on talking to her so fast.
The quiet locking of a door gently clicking shut draws my attention away, and I turn towards the sound to see a pretty young girl hurry over to the receptionist's desk. She's wearing a simple lavender dress that, while not all that impressive alone (heck, even I had more and fancier dresses than the one she's wearing), still is good looking and makes her appear better than a lot of other guests we get around here. She ties her hair in a loose ponytail, held in place by a white bow. From the looks of it, she seems like a nice, simple girl, probably in her early twenties, but the way she's talking with the receptionist, I'd say she acts more like she's in her thirties. There's something about the way she talks to her, persuasive enough to convince the hard line receptionist to, I take it, allow her to visit someone, as she's making her way towards a section of the building filled with rooms reserved for private meetings.
Usually they don't take anyone away from happy hour (yeah, how strange is that? We have happy hour here, of all places. I wonder if we shouldn't be running this place and putting the staff where we are.), unless it's a real emergency. It didn't seem like an emergency either, the way she was acting earlier, but maybe she's just that good at convincing people to do what she wants. It sure seems that way, anyway, as two guys come in. They look like they're headed right for me, but that can't be right, since I don't know that girl.
Oh, wait. Forget it. They're going for that new girl. Interesting. I think it's time for a little detective work. It's a good thing they don't require us to stay in the lounge during happy hour; rather, it's just that most of us want to be here instead of cooped up all day long.
Walking slowly back to my room, I wonder if it's possible for me to seem more suspicious. I never missed a happy hour to this day, and the staff know that, as they've had to force me back a couple of times, and here I am going back to my room, willingly, as soon as they bring the new girl to her visitor. Maybe it's just me being paranoid again, but still. the nerve of some people, calling us dumb and crazy.
Luckily for me, I have a nice room right next to one of the visiting rooms. It isn't often, but sometimes they use the room next to mine for meetings. If not, well, I'm just glad they have large air ducts and I'm pretty small. The only thing that sucks about listening in is that I can't see what's going on. I always have to make up some lame excuse if I use the vents and one of the staff catches me not in my room. Unfortunately, however, today we haven't really done anything that could really get me dusty, and so, I'm stuck listening.
Oh. There he is, finally.
"We'll be waiting outside just in case something happens," I hear a guy say before the door locks behind him.
Silence.
Great. This is going to be just wonderful. The girl's not saying anything and that new girl is about as animated as a rock. So what if I wasn't having all that much fun at happy hour? It beats being bored in here.
"Ranma, it's me, Kasumi. Can you hear me Ranma?" Hm. from the sound of things, I'd have to guess that new girl's name is Ranma and the visitor is Kasumi. It's strange; why name a girl Ranma?
"Ranma," Kasumi tries again, "Please. I know it must be hard for you. It's hard for all of us." She trails off, her voice starting to crack ever so slightly. Whatever happened, it must have been something really big. For someone like her to start getting emotional while being able earlier to convince the receptionist to let her visit without even appearing to get angry or excited or anything.
"Father, he's. he's still angry, but I think he's starting to forgive you." She's getting softer, and I lean closer to the wall to try to hear her more clearly. "Nabiki's still shaken up. she's not as scared as before though."
What am I getting into here? Sounds like a family that's even more messed up than mine. Well, not that mine was messed up. it was mostly just me, but still.
"You know, they didn't really mean to kick you out. Nobody really blames you for what happened, Ranma. They just got caught up in the moment."
"Please, Ranma. come back to us." I can hear her voice cracking a little more, and it really makes me boil inside. How can she, I mean, how can Ranma be so cruel to them? Okay, so maybe they did kick her out sometime ago, but that's no reason to shrivel up and die inside, especially when Kasumi, who I assume is related to all of them somehow, takes the time to visit and obviously wants to patch things up.
Maybe I should be angry with Kasumi and this "Nabiki" girl as well as their father, but I guess being me it's never been in my nature to get angry with my family. Sure, they abandoned me. Sure, they put me in here. Sure, they even disowned me. Still, I can't blame them, considering the problems I gave them. So what if I couldn't control it? I didn't even try to control my problem. If they're really responsible for putting me in here, I'm equally as responsible, if not more so.
Everyone makes mistakes. I made mistakes, my family made mistakes. From what I can hear, I take it Ranma and the others must have gotten caught up in something really big and made a huge mistake. Still, it sounds like they're ready to make amends. Hell, if my family came back and tried to patch things up with me, I'd at least listen to them.
Damn. I can hear her getting up, which can only mean the meeting's over. Well, at least happy hour's not over yet, so I should be able to run outside pretty quickly and see her leave.
Just in time too, it seems. As I make it back inside the lounge area, I see Kasumi walking slowly towards the front door. Hm. she doesn't look that much worse, except for the fact that she's walking with her head down-turned.
And here she is now, the one responsible for it all: Ranma. Looks like they're not even bringing her back here. I guess it would be the smart thing to do, since they probably heard the one-sided conversation going on. If I can hear it through the wall, I mean, of course they should've heard it standing just outside the door.
Oh, now this should be interesting. It should be very, very interesting, indeed. Why is that, you ask? The answer is very simple really.
She has the room next to mine.
Looks like things are finally looking up around here.
-End Chapter 1.
End Notes: This is not my first fic, but the first that I've decided to post for the general public to view here on FF.net. It's somewhat of an experiment for me, as 1st person POV is not my usual forte. I'm also working on a 3rd person POV of the same fic concurrently, and I'd appreciate it if you could drop me a review saying whether this style works for you or if you'd rather see the 3rd person POV. In any case, drop me some reviews!