"Freedom!"
The triumphant, elated shout echoed around the quickly emptying schoolyard late one Monday afternoon. Around the quad grade-schoolers jumped, shooting surprised looks at the source before going back to what they were doing with nothing more than a shrug.
"I think you're overreacting." A second voice stated in a much calmer tone, with an implied shake of the head in exasperation.
"Oh you know I'm not baby! Two weeks and no worries! The cat has gone and the mice shall play! It's all smooth sailing from here." The first continued, enthusiasm dampened but not at all diminished.
Arnold Shortman, fifth-grader, gentleman and all around nice guy sighed at his best friend's antics. Gerald had been going on and on about this since the beginning of classes that morning, all through recess and now looked to be continuing that for the walk home.
Seriously the news that…
"Helga G. Pataki has left the country! Gone for two glorious weeks!"
…Seriously wasn't this important.
"It's no big deal Gerald." Arnold sighed for what seemed like millionth time that morning. "I don't understand why you're making such a fuss."
Gerald actually stopped short in the sidewalk, forcing Arnold to do the same. "Arnold, baby. We both know what she's like. Think about it, two weeks and no having to watch where we're walking, no having to worry about Betsy and the Five Avengers? It'll be paradise!"
"Oh come on Gerald, she's not that bad." Arnold tried to argue. "She's just misunderstood."
That was a disagreement that had lasted a long time between the two best friends. An argument that was unlikely to change anytime soon, judging by Gerald's disbelieving stare. "If you say so. I still think she's evil, but that's just me." The boy muttered to himself.
Arnold frowned at that, before his expression turned to curiosity. "I wonder why her family suddenly decided to go on vacation so soon after the start of the school year…"
Gerald only shrugged. "Who cares? She's gone. She'll be back eventually, quit worrying."
"I know, but I can't help it. It's what I do." Arnold sighed with a self-deprecating smile.
Gerald recognized that look and sighed. "Look, Arnold. She helped us out big time, we both know that. But this is Helga G. Pataki we're talking about! Toughest girl in PS 118! She'll be fine."
Arnold smiled, a real one this time. "Yea, you're right. Thanks man."
What Arnold didn't let show was the events on the rooftop that Gerald had just reminded him of… Just what did heat of the moment even mean?
Gerald grinned at him and clapped a hand to his shoulder with a laugh. "You know it baby!"
"Oh, excuse me. I could not help but over hear you wondering about Helga's whereabouts?" A high-pitched voice asked from directly behind the two.
Both whirled around in surprise, only to relax at the familiar face of Phoebe Heyerdhal. The dark-haired Japanese-American girl smiled softly in apology for startling them. "Good afternoon Arnold, Gerald. If it helps, I can explain. Would that be acceptable?" She asked.
Arnold felt like slapping himself in the face. He'd been wondering all day and he didn't even think to ask Helga's best friend. How silly could you be?
"That'd be great Phoebe, thanks. Where'd she go?" He asked.
"To Tokyo, Japan actually. It's very exciting." Phoebe replied.
"Woah, really? Why?" Gerald asked the question before Arnold had to.
"It turns out that Helga's older sister Olga won quite a prestigious literary award for up and coming writers. They left Friday afternoon, and the award ceremony is next week I believe."
Now that was new info for them. "Wow, that's incredible." Arnold said.
Phoebe giggled lightly at that. "Oh, not according to Helga. Apparently she didn't even want to go, but Olga and her mother insisted that the whole family be there. I was on the other end of a rather long and strongly worded rant about it."
"Yea I'll bet." Gerald muttered under his breath.
"Well, it's a long way to go." Phoebe said diplomatically.
"That is true. Across the world isn't it?" Gerald said.
"Oh, it's not that bad really. It's actually on the other side of the Pacific Ocean from here. You'd know that if you had not slept through geography class yesterday." She teased.
Arnold and Gerald couldn't help laughing at that. "True, True. But there you go, she's gonna be fine and back soon. No worries!" Gerald accepted with grace.
"Now that that's over and school's out, want to grab a shake? That new place around the block opened up not too long ago, my man Fuzzy Slippers says it's legit." Gerald said with a laugh.
"Well I can't argue with Fuzzy Slippers. Yea I'll come. I left my money at home though; I'd have to grab it." Arnold explained.
"Easy peasy. You know where it is?"
"Yea, I'll meet you there!" With a wave Arnold rushed off.
"Ah, I suppose I'll say goodbye then." Phoebe said.
Gerald blinked in surprise and looked at her. "Huh? You're not coming too?" He asked, genuinely confused.
It was Phoebe's turn to be surprised. "Was I included in that invitation?" She asked.
Gerald grinned at her. "Of course! Why not?"
Phoebe took a second to think it over, but eventually matched Gerald's grin with one of her own. "You're right. I cannot find a reason to decline. I would enjoy coming along." She replied.
"Need to pop home and grab some money as well?"
Phoebe shook her head. "Oh no, I usually carry some money on me, in case of emergencies such as this."
"Isn't that a little dangerous, you don't want any bullies taking that off you." Gerald commented with concern.
He had to admit he was surprised when Phoebe outright laughed at that. "Gerald, I am best friends with Helga G. Pataki. I'm not really in any danger at school am I?" She asked with a twinkle of amusement in her eye.
Gerald was completely and utterly unable to come up with an argument against that. Even the six-graders were terrified by that girl.
"You've got a point. Well, no sense waiting here. Shall we head out?" He asked.
Phoebe nodded, a wide smile on her face. "Indeed."
Arnold had made the run home in a little over ten minutes, puffing hard but satisfied. He slowed to a more normal speed once he made it to the Boarding House's steps.
Running face-first into the steps once teaches a boy caution.
Still, he took the stairs two at a time before grabbing the handle.
The moment he opened the door he realized something was very wrong. Cautious for reasons he couldn't explain he slowly walked into the building. It took him a few seconds to click as to what was wrong. While most of the boarders would still be at work at this point in the afternoon, there was always some kind of ruckus going on at the Sunset Arms.
But right then, it was nearly silent. Only the muffled sounds of a tv at low volume in the lounge broke the oppressive stillness.
Arnold suddenly had a very bad feeling.
"Hello, anyone here?" He called out.
Relief shot through him as he heard a shuffling in the main common room, before the wizened face of his crazy grandmother poked her head through the doorway.
That relief vanished at the collected, solemn look on her face. She'd never in Arnold's memory looked this… serious. It was highly unsettling.
"Arnold, you're back." She said, clear and simply.
That was another red flag. Something was very wrong.
"Yea, um. What's going on Grandma?" He asked.
"You'd better see for yourself. Come here dear." She ordered, still in that unusual solemn tone.
Arnold found his grandfather Phil in the lounge, slipping an arm around his wife's shoulders as she returned to the couch.
His Grandpa didn't say anything, another strange occurrence. He instead pulled Arnold onto his lap and settled back to watch the TV again. Ad breaks, again.
"Hey Sport, you remember that plane-crash in China yesterday?" Phil asked him.
Arnold nodded. How could he have missed it? It was all over the news last night; the entire boarding house was packed into the room to find out more. Apparently some American citizens were on board, or at least that's what the media had claimed.
"And welcome back to this special breaking news report." The voice of the local announcer said. Gertrude turned up the volume as the news came back on.
"To recap our story, at approximately midnight local time China Airways flight CI-117 from Astana to Hong-Kong suffered catastrophic engine failure while flying over the Bayankala Mountain Range in central China. We can now bring you a more up to date report on the tragedy. Asian correspondent Jennifer Beyer has more."
The picture shifted to a helicopter flyover of what was obviously a horrific crash, bits of propeller and fuselage scattered all over a thickly forested mountain face. The wreck was in two distinct pieces, if that had happened before or after impact Arnold had no idea.
"These scenes of devastation are all that are left of China Airways Flight CI-117. The flight was supposed to be a routine trip from Kazakhstan's capital to Hong-Kong, but this time it ended in tragedy." A cool female voice explained. "For reasons that are currently unknown an explosion went off somewhere in the craft, leaving the pilots unable to keep the plane in the air. It is now China's most devastating single air disaster, and unfortunately there have been no confirmed survivors amongst all one hundred and seventy four lives aboard."
The image changed again, this time a picture of an Asian man in his twenties.
"Chinese authorities have released the names of the passengers and crew aboard that fateful flight. The list includes six American citizens. These names are twenty year old Steven Doyle of New York City-"
The picture changed again, showing an image of each name as the reporter announced it.
"-Fifty six year old Martha Mabone of Huston Texas, twenty eight year old Martin Frost of Portland Oregon, forty seven year old Robert Pataki, along with his forty five year old wife Miriam and their ten year old daughter Helga, all of Hillwood city Washington."
Right as she said the words, the image changed for a last time, and it stopped Arnold's heart.
The anchor started talking again but Arnold wasn't listening. It was if someone had picked up a shard of glass and buried it in his stomach, while pulling the very ground out from under him at the same instant. Ten year old daughter Helga… one hundred and seventy four lives lost.
Helga G Pataki, the girl he'd known since preschool, the one who despite all the spit balls and mean words had always been there for him when he really needed her and most recently confessed her love for him on top of a building, was gone.
"I'm sorry kiddo. I know you were friends." Gramps said.
"Yea… Yea we were." Arnold whispered to himself, truly realizing that fact for the first time.
It was all too much for the young boy. He sobbed loudly and buried his head into his grandfather's chest.
Phil Shortman felt his heart breaking for his grandson. He'd always thought that Bob Pataki had been an absolute ass of a man and his wife's alcoholism had been the subject of much gossip over the years. But no one deserved this, especially not little Helga.
He'd met the kid a number of times; she'd always been a forceful child. Full of spunk and took nothing from anyone. Reminded him of how Pookie used to be when they were kids, all fire and brimstone.
But it looked like that little spitfire wasn't going to be around to liven up things around Hillwood anymore. And that wasn't even beginning to get into what it must be like for Olga Pataki right now…
He shifted a still crying Arnold to the seat between himself and Pookie and they both wrapped loving arms around their little man.
They stayed there for some time, sharing their grandson's grief.
Two days earlier…
There were times that Helga absolutely hated the fact her mother was an alcoholic.
1, the many times she had to go hungry because her mother forgot to make her anything to eat for lunch.
2, when she had to walk through rain or snow to get somewhere because Miriam had been on the 'smoothies' again and could hardly walk less drive her.
3, the new one. Ending up in Khazakstan after thirty hours of flight time because the alky had been hammered booking the flights to see her 'perfect daughter's' award.
But at least they were on the home stretch, a highly disgruntled Helga reasoned, sat crammed between a fat lady and a really smelly old guy near the back of the plane. They were halfway through the flight to Hong Kong now, after that and a six hour wait in the airport they'd be on their way to Tokyo to see Olga get her award.
Criminy, even living in ALASKA Olga had managed to once again rub it in her face how special she was.
She sighed in disgust. It was simply incredible how much her older sister was able to mess with her life. She'd much rather be at home alone, wouldn't have been the first time she had to look after herself, wouldn't be the last.
But no, Miriam had just had to have one of her flashes of motherhood and demand the girl come along as well.
She sighed again. Oh well, at least she got to see Tokyo, that'd be cool. Phoebs' father was from there wasn't he? Where was he from again? Phoebe had told her at least once…
Nerimey, Nimeria, something like that?
With a mental shrug Helga dismissed it. She'd remember eventually.
Wait… what was that smell?
She sniffed experimentally, and reeled back instantly. Oh crimeny this old guy had just crapped in his pants!
She quickly unlatched her seatbelt and began the arduous process of shoving passed the land whale woman blocking her way to the isle. Apparently she'd fallen asleep at some point and was snoring away like two chainsaws in a fight over the affections of a bullhorn, blissfully unaware of what was going on.
With a grunt Helga flopped into the isle and stood up, grumbling the entire time. With the plan in mind of grabbing a flight attendant and letting them deal with it she set off towards the back of the plane and the service station there.
Only to be flung off her feet as the plane suddenly bucked, hard, underneath her.
She was flung off her feet entirely, flipping end over end and in the isle. She landed with a sickening crack and a sudden, lancing pain in her leg.
With a scream she tried to rise, to get back to her seat and her seatbelt but she couldn't move on her now very broken leg.
She heard her name screeched over the sudden cacophony of noise in the cabin and looked up. She'd managed to land directly next to her mother's seat, and the older Pataki woman was absolutely terrified. Without thought she grabbed at her mother's extended hand and began pulling herself up to her.
Again, the plane shook. This time a seemingly massive explosion tore tail of the plane entirely off, sucking two flight attendants out of the plane and into empty air several thousand meters above ground.
The sudden pull nearly dragged her from the plane; only her mother's grasp saved her from being immediately sucked out. They held desperately on for nearly a couple of minutes.
But the strain was too much, and they were unable to keep hold of each other. The last thing that Helga G. Pataki saw of her mother was the woman screaming her name as their hands slipped apart and Helga was torn away.
She tumbled end over end towards the gaping hole in the back of the plane before with an absolutely sickening crack her head slammed against the hole's metal edge and she knew no more.
If you were to ask Saotome Ranma, aqua-transsexual master of Anything Goes Martial Arts, where he'd like to be at that moment, the only answer you'd get would be 'absolutely anywhere but here.'
It had been five years since the day that Ranma, now twenty one years of age, had last stood in front of the cursed training grounds of Jusenkyo. Five years since he and his father had come to train there, and he'd been cursed to change into a woman at the splash of cold water. Nearly a year later Ranma had returned to save the life of his then fiancée Tendo Akane. And now, four years after that, here he was.
Hostilities had flared up between the three tribes of the Bayankala Mountains, plunging the region into a bitter war with no end in sight. After months of desperate fighting the Joketzuko amazons had gotten desperate.
To the rest of the Nerima Wrecking Crew, the Neriman contingent of Chinese Amazons had vanished without a word. Out of nowhere the Cat Café didn't open one morning and stayed shut.
They all breathed a sigh of relief but Ranma couldn't help but be worried about them. Shampoo had become a real friend ever since the disastrous wedding attempt, mellowing out considerably. Mousse was still an asshole but at least he wasn't attacking Ranma on sight anymore. As for the Matriarch Cologne, that was a different story.
Cologne had been a major pain in his ass for a long time now. One of the biggest if Ranma was honest with himself. But even so and even if Ranma would never admit it, he had nothing but respect for the shrunken woman.
Cologne was the teacher he'd needed. His father was, despite all appearances to the contrary, an exceptionally skilled Martial Artist. But that simply wasn't enough, even way back when Ranma had arrived in Nerima. Cologne had, roundabout and with a lot of blackmail, stepped into the teaching roll and Ranma's skill had grown by leaps and bounds, especially once he matured enough to realize that fully.
So when he received a message from the Joketzuko Matriarch asking for his help, he'd come. The promise to annul the two Kisses hanging over his head at long last in return only sweetened the deal.
Ranma knew that he was in the prime of his life, and his Martial abilities showed that. He'd improved immeasurably from the boy that had walked away from a fight with a demigod alive, not even speaking of the boy who arrived in Nerima all those years ago.
He always had been the best Martial Artist of his generation, now he was simply one of the best martial artists in the world. Even Cologne had (begrudgingly) admitted that even she was hard pressed to win in a fight with him.
And so, he'd gone to war.
What no one expected was when Ranma showed up on the field the Musk and Phoenix forces surrendered instantly. None wished to take on the man that had defeated the most powerful members of their tribes in single combat.
Those very heads arrived later that day. A young, not yet fully realized Saffron and the Prince of the Musk Dynasty, Herb.
Herb was as he always was, but he greeted Ranma warmly. Kiima of the Phoenix tribe had kept her word; Saffron seemed much more likable this incarnation. He also greeted Ranma like a long lost friend.
The three leaders all essentially agreed on one thing, they would end the war if Ranma agreed to be a neutral arbitrator on the peace terms.
The negotiations had now lasted an entire month and had only just finished, with all parties satisfied.
Free to wander for the first time in a month Ranma had taken off from the Joketzuko village for a run in the middle of the night, slipping easily past the gate guards with a smirk.
He'd run for a couple hours at an easy pace. Of course that easy pace would have Olympic sprinters at their best collapsing on the ground after a couple seconds but that was beside the point. He'd had no real thought as to where he'd go, simply trusting the whims of fate.
Of course, fate decided to be a twat. It has started raining an hour in, turning Ranma-kun in to Ranma-chan. But at this point Ranma really wasn't bothered. He'd learned to truly accept himself as either form long ago.
So here she was stood lost in thought right in front of the pool of water that had caused her so much grief. The Spring of Drowned Girl in the cursed pools of Jusenkyo.
"Oh no, Miss Customer! You not be coming here! Is very dangerous!" A familiar voice called from behind her in broken Japanese.
She couldn't stop the grin from spreading unseen on her face. "Oh I know." She replied with a chuckle. "Firsthand experience." She clarified, turning around to face the Jusenkyo guide.
He'd aged since Ranma had last seen him, but still wore his trusty Mao outfit years after the leader's death.
The man gasped as he recognized her. "Is you! Why you here?"
Ranma shrugged and turned away with a shrug. "Don't know. I suppose I was meant to but as for why I couldn't tell you."
The guide didn't get a chance to respond. Both their attention was grabbed by the massive splash of something dropping into one of the pools from very high up.
Ranma swore to herself and was instantly off, up and away over the bamboo poles in the centre of each spring towards where the splash had come from. The guide set off at a decidedly slower pace, trusting the narrow pathways between the pools.
Ranma arrived at the spring within seconds. The darkness left him unable to make out the shape of the animal/person inside and was unwilling to jump into a random pool to find out. Instead she grabbed one of the long poles the Guide used to fish out unwary travellers and started pulling it towards her.
Eventually, she got close enough to grab hold of the thing's clothing. She grabbed on and hefted the victim out and onto the bank.
It was a boy. A young, blonde haired Caucasian boy in a bright pink dress
The Guide arrived at last, huffing from the effort. "Oh no, this boy fall in the Spring of Drowned Man. Now every time he-"
"I know what it does!" Ranma snapped, shutting him up.
Ranma could only marvel. All that time searching and now, when she wouldn't take the chance and jump in herself did she find out the location of the elusive Spring of Drowned Man.
Due to her shock, she didn't immediately notice the boy's injuries. But she did after a second, and she winced at their extent.
He was in a very bad way. Ranma wasn't a doctor, she couldn't tell you exactly what was wrong, but she knew bad injuries when she saw them. The boy was bloody, broken and that leg was simply not supposed to bend that way.
He also wasn't breathing.
Fortunately, that was easily fixed. Ranma pressed her hands against the boy's chest and pulsed her ki into him.
Water shot from the boy's mouth and he drew in a ragged breath, but Ranma could tell he wasn't out of the woods yet. He may be breathing, but he hadn't woken up and that head wound looked bad.
Ranma had to get the kid to the Joketzuko; it was the only way he'd survive. In fact, surviving that fall must have been a small miracle in and of itself. Something wanted him alive.
Or didn't want him to die before it'd messed with him some more, which seemed the more likely of the two.
She gathered the poor thing in her arms. "I'll take him from here." She told the Guide, who nodded. "Good luck Mr. Customer." He said.
She nodded in return and she shot off at top speed towards the Joketzuko village, so fast that to the untrained eye of the Guide she seemed to simply vanish.
The run to the village took less than two minutes at her maximum speed, but even then she was afraid it was too late.
The gate guards didn't even have a chance to spot her before she was leaping over the village wall, landing neatly on the other side.
"Help! I need a healer! A healer, quickly!" She shouted at the top of her lungs.
Doors slammed open as Chinese Amazons burst out with weapons in hand, searching for the disturbance. Cologne was one of the first.
She saw what was in Ranma's arms and paled. "Come with me, the healers is this way." She ordered without fanfare, hopping off on her cane.
Ranma followed without hesitation and the next thing she knew she was laying the small boy on a table and explaining where she'd found him.
She was immediately shooed from the tent with the Mistress Healer's promise that they would do all they could.
Ranma could do nothing more. So she headed to the training log and began anxiously running through some advanced Kata, trying to distract herself. It would be a long wait.
Years later, when asked about the story Ranma would pale and give a heavily redacted account of the event. After all, she didn't want to admit that her eldest daughter literally fell from the sky!
Hello everyone!
Welcome, welcome welcome to probably the strangest crossover you are ever likely to read. One which I am proud to bring you. Ranma 1/2 and Hey Arnold. What horrible monster have I unleashed.
Anyway, what's done is done and here it is. Hope people like it!
Let a poor author know if you have any ideas, concerns or whatever. Press that review button!
And for any wondering, yes I am still working on a DWW:OM chapter. Lanaura's adventures in Thedas are not over by a long shot!
Well, that's all i have to say. Tootles!
Lucky Fractal.