Ranma ½ Fanfiction by Mad-Hamlet
Legal Stuff: This is a work of fiction, all characters are owned by..well if you don't know then you shouldn't be reading this. God who reads this part anyway? No I'm not making any money off of this.
So no one in legal circles SHOULD care. (Hey what are those drooling lawyers doing here?)
You know who owns these characters, I know who owns them and we all thank you-know-who every damn day for making them. Now don't sue me.
Beyond Boundaries
Nerima. On a dark night, in a dark hospital room there lay the shell of a beautiful young girl.
She lay on her back. The covers had been kicked off during her drug induced 'sleep' but she was awake now. Protected from the sterile air by only her hospital robe she stared at the ceiling, but seeing nothing.
One arm was flung over her head the other lay at her side. Her eyes, wide and staring, were part of what could have been an attractive face were it not for the fact that her expression was one of endless grief. Her short black hair completed the piece of work that showed the world what she was. A person in pain. A person who had lost something and could never have back. Had the lights been on, the harsh white glare of neon would have shown any passing observer minor burns and bruises all over her arms and legs. And in the darkness Akane Saotome cried…and remembered.
It just wasn't fair! They had been married. Finally after so long. Ranma's shell had broken after a fierce battle in which again Akane had found herself in harm's way. Strangely enough the opponent had not been against a martial artist but an illness. Akane had become deathly ill and had nearly died. During the entire time Ranma had remained at her side willing her back. When she did recover the first thing he did was demand the marriage, of course she had agreed. The passion of Ranma's plea would have made the cold stones of mountains weep. The ceremonies had been small, beautiful and above all, quiet. Some persuasion had to be used on Genma, the cut and thrust of debate and conversation (using the medium of violence.) that Ranma had proven to be quite eloquent in. Eventually all parties had seen the young couples point of view.
Afterwards they had gone away on their honeymoon. Nabiki had surprised them all with a wedding gift vacation to a small island where she promised they would have sun, sand, and privacy. It had been a wonderful two weeks. Alone together they had talked, loved, and even fought. But they had made up afterwards. Remembering how they had made up caused Akane to weep fresh tears, which she considered surprising. She thought she had run out.
Of course their time away had ended and they had boarded the plane home. The flight had been uneventful. She had slept most of the way nestled against the strong chest of her husband. When she woke up the plane had begun its decent.
"Wake up."
"Mmm…don' wanna go to school…"
"Wake up kawaikune…"
Ranma's soft voice pulled her from sleep. She stretched her neck a few times to ease a cramp and smiled at him.
"You say the nicest things. Landing already? Too bad I was having the most wonderful dream." She purred.
He raised an eyebrow with a small smile. "Really? Well tonight you can tell me all about it."
"Pervert."
"Tomboy."
She had started to laugh at the affectionate tone, still amused at the irony that their oldest verbal barbs now were words of affection. Her laugh died in her throat as she felt him stiffen. The tension swept over her in a wave. She looked at him. He was sitting perfectly straight, his eyes wide, staring at the seat in front of him. The muscles on his arms were bulging.
Fear lanced through her. "What's wrong?" she demanded.
In one fluid motion he had snapped the seatbelt holding him down than with no hesitation ripped away the armrest between their seats and pulled her into his lap. She would have thought this some game. An innuendo of some sort but his eyes were fierce and…final. With one hand holding her in legs up he used the other to brush her cheek. He looked at her face with such intensity.
"I love you Akane."
She was about to respond when the first scream of metal was heard.
Some amateur movies showed what happened to the plane. Funny how those were always around at the worst times. The planes front landing gear failed and buckled. The nose of the plane dug into the runway still going at full speed. Then it stopped. The kinetic energy split the neck of aircraft flipping it over the halted cockpit crushing it. The fuselage impacted with the earth and exploded. A burning ball of steel and fury slid across the pavement finally coming to rest. The silver gleaming aircraft, in less than ten seconds became a crematorium. There would be no survivors, or so every witness thought. The amateur cameraman caught the final moments of the wreck. From the side of the dead vessel part of the metal skin was blown away by a beam of energy and through the hole flew two figures surrounded by a mysterious blue light. One cradling the other in its arms. It landed on the ground and sped from the fires. The cameraman had zoomed in on the couple. The figure standing lay the other on the ground gently and kissed it. Then collapsed. By the time the paramedics and other emergency services arrived a very conscious young woman was cradling the fallen figure screaming. It had taken seven men to pull her away and four of them were badly injured.
When the paramedics went to examine the man they could tell at a glance he was dead. Two pieces of metal penetrated his chest from behind, one piercing his heart. By all rights he should have been killed instantly. But he hadn't. When word got around of that, plus the footage of the 'impossible rescue' the media had converged on the hospital where the only survivor was being treated. They demanded to interview her, citing such hypocritical garbage along the lines of "the people have a right to know."
The presence of a large, angry, panda caused them to see the errors of their ways with only minimal casualties.
Her family had been there to comfort her. She had been hysterical of course and they had just held her, comforting, soothing, and crying along with her. A vain effort to show so much love and caring that might fill the hole inside. But they had eventually left. Kasumi and Nabiki had insisted on staying. They were probably asleep on sofas right outside. Ready to barge in case she needed someone, anyone. Of course who she needed was gone. Gone..gone…gone far away. Beyond all reach.
But she would be fine! Right? She was Akane Saotome after all, wife of the great martial artist Ranma Saotome, heir to the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts, wasn't she?
"No." she whispered into the darkness. "I am Akane Saotome, widow of the late Ranma Saotome. Married for two weeks." And with that her grief began anew. Great wrenching sobs torn from her breast echoed off the sterile walls. She desperately tried to muffle them, the last thing she wanted now was anyone. She wanted to be alone, she was alone and always would be. No, right now she did not want to be alone, she wanted time to get used to being alone. She curled up into a fetal position and cried.
Ranma..oh how she wanted to be with Ranma. She couldn't live without him. She wouldn't..no..she..oh Kami-Sama it hurt so much! She clenched her fists and could feel her nails biting into her flesh. She couldn't live without him! She couldn't!
She couldn't live without Ranma!!
She couldn't live without him..
Couldn't live without...
Couldn't live...
Couldn't live...
Couldn't...
Couldn't...
Didn't.
It began over her heart, the warmth. With a sigh all its own it began to spread outward from where it began, easing pain, healing, bringing light to the shadow and knitting the ragged holes within. Where there had been sorrow there was now joy, where there had been despair, there was now hope, where there had been death, there was now...
"You know I went to a lot of trouble saving you."
He was sitting in a chair on the far side of the room. His head cupped in his hands.
"Yes, I'm sorry but I just couldn't.." she gestured around the room. She sat up. She was dressed in her favorite sundress, yellow, with white flowers. He was in his black pants with permanent red Chinese shirt.
"It's alright." He said as he took her hand, "I doubt I could have lived without you too."
"So now what?" she asked.
"Dunno. There's still a lot to see and do. 'Sides even over here I'll bet a couple of martial artists could be useful." He pulled her into his arms and they kissed. It was as good and sweet as all the others.
She hesitated, "What about.." he shushed her with another kiss.
"I won't lie," he sighed, "It'll be very hard but I think they'll be ok. I'll see what I can do though."
He moved over to the bed. After a second he returned to her side. He brushed his fingers over her cheek. "You are," he murmured, "so very beautiful."
He grabbed her hand. "It's time to go."
She looked at his face and saw the love in his eyes, she knew he saw the same in hers. She nodded.
"How?"
He smirked, "How else?"
With that he gathered her into arms and together they jumped out the window.
"Ranma! Look out for that…"
SPLOOSH
"What?? Even over here?"
Onna-Ranma gave a nervous laugh.
On a dark night, in a dark hospital room, lay the shell of a young girl. She lay on her side, her feet curled up, knees tucked under her chin. Had the lights been on, the harsh neon glare would have shown any casual observer the small half smile on her face. She appeared to be sleeping a deep and restful sleep. Her family would be coming to see her in the morning but she would have already been gone by then. They would understand. They would see what she had left behind for them. In one hand, the two tucked underneath her head like a pillow, she held a single lily. The edges tinted purple.
Authors notes: I wrote this after having a nightmare about just such a thing happening to me and the woman in my life. Only without the martial arts or chi stuff. I've read a lot of the 'motianal' fics out there. Some are very good but they left something out, seemed to be lacking something. Not being the author of those particular fics I have no idea of the motives behind them.
The motives for me are about love. Love is the closest thing I have to religion. It is, or it is not. And if it, you are very lucky. Funny, everyone thinks I'm a cynic. If only they knew.
SO! I could have a lot more to say but I'd rather answer anyone comments personally not have to try and 'cover-the-bases' as it were. That might detract from the story. This is my second fanfic. The first having not been posted. If you're lucky it will remain that way.
If you have anything to say feel free to tell me. (Flames not included.) I can be reached at
Mad-Hamlet@usa.netC+C would be most helpful.
Now I'd like to thank some people who have been lucky enough to never have met me but made my life a little better.
Darrien Demaine- Wrote Ranma 1/5 and Ranma 1/100. Damn funny
Sommer- Wrote Shampoo ½. Best damn epic I've EVER seen. (I'll get you for Epilogue 1 Sommer. It tore my goddamn heart out. Poor Akane.)
Lord Archive- Is writing, Second Chances, The Insanity Continues, Rejected(VERY disturbing) and other great stuff. Write more Lord Archive..more..must…..have……more!
Krista Perry- Is writing Hearts of Ice. Uh…wow. If you don't know this fanfic, why are you here?
Last and very much not least ..
Mike L. – Wrote "Did She Jump, Or Was She Pushed." This little ditty is my all time favorite one shot.
Daisuke is the main character and the plot is TWWWWIIIISSSTTTEEEDD. We're talking Hercule Poiriot class mystery IMO.
Until next time..
I remain, as always,
Mad-Hamlet