Pressure: Ryoga's Trial
By Prospero Hibiki
Disclaimer: Do I really need to say it?
Ranma ½ (its characters, themes, episodes, etc) all belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Viz Video, and whoever else owns them. All I know is that I do not own them. I am not making a profit out of writing this, and I never will. As a writer, I respect the right of intellectual property and so I would never do anything to violate that right. This is just a fanfic. I love Ranma ½ and think that Rumiko Takahashi is the greatest. I also have one other thing to say.
Bwee!
: indicates a foreign language most likely Chinese
: indicates messages written on signs
( ): indicates a snide, humorous, or sarcastic comment from the author
Bold: indicates that something is … well you figure it out
For the man stumbling past endless buildings and storefronts, the scenery was all blending together into shades of washed out primary colors. Ryoga only felt the pain. Clothing hung in tatters from his frame, and his ever-present backpack and umbrella were nowhere to be seen. The air around him crackled, and every so often sparks leapt from his unruly hair to the sky. For several minutes the sparks stopped only to flare up brightly in a brilliant flash of light and heat. His bandana had long ago burnt away, leaving a red stripe across his forehead.
He staggered bent at the waist, each hand grasping a shoulder tightly. He didn't notice the police officers that were clearing people away from him, but if he had he would have thanked him. He would have hated to hurt someone else. But he didn't notice the police; in fact he hadn't seen much of anything for the last several weeks.
"Mustgettothenekohaten. Mustgettothenekohaten. Mustgettothenekohaten." It had been his mantra for over a week, something that had somehow been realized during one of his brief moments of lucidity, but he didn't know how. His mouth was making the motions of the words even when his mind completely blanked from the pain.
The pain surged up again, accompanied by yet another towering column of sparks. For a brief moment his concentration lapsed; light shone from his body, and his hair stood up rippling like flames. Time slowed. It was only the shortest period of time, but for that instant the pain went away and the seductive taste of power flooded him. He saw for the first time his surroundings in the sharpest clarity. He could see the individual grains in the street's asphalt. The smells of tar, wood, and metal called to him from everywhere. Ryoga gripped his left shoulder as hard as he could until he could feel his collarbones bending under the strain. It seemed so easy to just release himself in the pleasure, but he resisted. The light died down to close to nothing, but didn't go out completely.
"Officer?"
The policemen were startled. It was the first time they had heard him say anything other than his confusing repetition, and they had been walking with him for two days. "Yes?"
"Get the old woman from the Nekohaten in Nerima." Ryoga didn't know how long his mind would stay clear enough to talk, but he was slightly reassured when he saw one of the men take off running. His thoughts were already starting to fall towards the safety of the pain, but he realized something was holding the seduction at bay. He struggled to hold onto razor's edge between seduction and the abyss. "Get her quickly." Looking around he saw that the police had opened a large circle around him. It was not big enough. They didn't know how big it needed to be. He felt himself start to slip towards the pit once more. "Make. It. Bigger." It was a struggle to force out any more words. "The. Circle. Must. Be. Bigger."
He finally lost his fight and fell.
His screams rang throughout the rapidly darkening night.
Cologne looked up from where she had been stirring a large, simmering caldron. Her ears picked up a faint sound coming from several blocks away. Strange. Those sound like sirens. She shrugged. They were probably just cutting through on a side street, but they were still unusual in a ward occupied by such a large number of martial artists. Even more unusual to be running it's sirens in the first place. Normally criminals in Nerima were afraid to break the law and risk running into a martial artist who would be more than willing to point out the error of the miscreant's ways - forcibly.
She was more than a little surprised when she realized that the cars must have turned down and started moving deeper into the heart of the ward. "Shampoo?"
" Yes, great-grandmother? " Shampoo stuck her head into the kitchen.
"In Japanese girl. Did you do anything to son-in-law or the Tendo girl recently?" It was always good to cover the things that could possibly go wrong.
"No, great-grandmother. Shampoo not seen husband this week." She sounded fairly upset. "Husband and violent girl go on training trip with panda man."
"Oh, that's right. I remember now." I'll have to take Shampoo and break that little scene up. She couldn't have son-in-law getting too close to any other girl. Her plans for fixing up Shampoo and Ranma were interrupted by the loud squeal of tires on pavement. She hopped out to the main dining area.
One of the officers was looking at every person inside intently until his gaze finally fell on her. He rushed over and bowed with his whole body. "Pardon me honored elder, but it is most urgent that you come with me to Nagogiri City."
Cologne's eyebrows rose in surprise. She had never expected to go there again. "May I ask why young man?" And why is he calling me honored elder?
"Yes, honored elder. A man has expressed an urgent need for your help. I do not know more because it was phoned in to our station." He hesitated, and looked around as if to look for people listening in before continuing in a much quieter voice. "But I have been told that the chief of the Tokyo Police believes it to be of the utmost importance."
"I will go with you then." She turned to look for Mousse only to find him immediately behind her. "Mousse, look after the restaurant, and make sure Shampoo does nothing about son-in-law while I am gone." She poked him when he scowled. "That goes for you too. I feel that we may need him very soon." Looking back at the young police officer, she motioned for him to lead the way out.
It had been a wild trip from Nerima, and Cologne had grown more and more agitated at each step of the way. The police were showing a most unseemly amount of haste, and she knew that they were not usually known for going to extremes. They are afraid. What could possible scare them enough to have them fly one old woman across the mountains of Japan in a helicopter. A helicopter that belonged to the Japanese Secret Service no less. Most curious.
"Honored elder. We are going to land in a park up ahead, and from there it is but a few minutes to where we must go." He like all of the others was calling her honored elder. I haven't heard that term from anyone not of our village in a dozen years, and yet I have heard it from ten police officers today during my two-hour trip.
Sure enough they landed in a large park, and clearing the landing area were over twenty more police officers. A man in a strange uniform ran up, and opened up the door before anyone inside had managed to unbuckle his safety straps. "Is this her?" He looked Cologne up and down briefly, and nodded. "I can see that it is. If you will come with me, I can explain what is happening." He walked off towards a waiting limousine, Cologne hopping after him.
After they were seated comfortably in the backseat of the limousine, the man continued. "I am Mikane Tanaka. What do you know of the Protectors?" Cologne gasped. She had finally placed his uniform. It was the uniform of the Emperor's Personal Guard. Or more precisely of the elite unit of that group. The Protectors
She shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Not as much as I should perhaps, but more than most others."
"I actually think that you do."
"What?"
"Never mind. What is most important right now is knowing that we, are charged with protecting the life of the Emperor at the cost of our lives. We are the best. But occasionally something happens that we can't stop. Ten years ago something happened. I won't go into the details because I can't, but suffice it to say that at the end of it, almost all of our people were dead and we failed to protect our Emperor."
Cologne tried as hard as she could but she couldn't think of any crisis that had happened ten years ago in Japan.
"We failed our Emperor, but someone else did not. He gave his life to save him. Since then we have watched over his family. Discreetly but we have done so." He gave a wry smile and shook his own head. "And is it ever hard to do."
"Two days ago we received information that the grandson of this man had been seen in this area in extreme pain …" he hesitated, "… among other things. We had the police follow him around to see if we could help, so when he asked for you we pulled some strings." He shrugged as if manipulating the police departments of two different cities all for the sake of one man were no big deal. "Will you help us if you can?"
"If I can I will."
"I believe we are there now." He waved towards the window. A dim but steady glow was coming in from outside. Mikane opened the door just as the light flared up for a period of time that was sufficient to make out details of the situation on the street clearly.
Ryoga was now sitting with his legs tucked under him in an almost meditative state. Only the sweat beading his forehead betrayed the strain he was under. Arching his back while still seated he pointed his face towards the heavens and screamed. Sparks shot from his open mouth and soared upwards.
"Dear Gods. Not him. Anyone but him." It took Cologne several moments to realize that she had said it out loud. I never thought he would be able to go so far. What has he done? Who has done this thing? His restraints are gone. All gone.
"Can you help him?" Mikane asked, even though he must know what the answer would be from the expression on her face.
"I don't know if anyone can help him anymore." She pointed. "Something in his mind is gone. He was one of the most powerful fighters in the world because he could channel his emotions into his fighting. But something always prevented using everything he had. Everyone has that, but now it's just gone. I don't even know how he has managed to stay alive as long as he has. The force of will he is using to hold back the energy is amazing, but even that should not be able to contain it … unless. Unless someone is helping him. But anyone capable of helping him moved away long ago. I only hope I won't have to use too much of my energy restraining him enough to talk to."
"Excuse me, but that might not be necessary. Ryoga is looking this way." She whirled. Sure enough he was looking right at them.
So she had finally come. "Hello Cologne. I don't have much time." His eyes flashed a bright blue. "It's gone." He hoped she knew what he was talking about or he was in trouble. It was reassuring to see her nod. "Good. I need you to hit the shiatsu points known as the third, ninth, and twenty-first gates." Again he waited for her nod. "It's going to hurt a great deal so I would like you to hurry." His laughter echoed across the street.
"How long has it been gone?"
"Two months. But I lost control after the first." He watched her skin pale, and her pulse speed up in her throat, before he realized that the seduction was coming back. "Time is almost up. I need to go away. Ryoga won't remember any of this when you seal the gates." He laughed again at their confused faces. "Oh please. You didn't seriously think that Ryoga would know about the gates did you? The Protectors are not the first ones to protect the Hibiki family. Sealing the gates is only temporary you know. Go to the Kuno's. They will have what is needed."
He frowned. "Make sure Ryoga doesn't use the Hokodan until you cure him. No matter how much he wants to he mustn't. And for god's sake keep him away from this Akari girl. I can't believe she did that to him." This time he just ignored them and devoted what remained of his energy to shoring up Ryoga's defenses. The boy was making him extremely proud, even if he had had very little to do with it. It had taken the sharpest emotional jolt to break his control, and he knew how painful that particular jolt had been. "It might be a good thing that he will lose his memory. All of this happened when I wasn't paying attention so I don't know what caused this whole mess, but I know that depression only makes it worse."
A quick jolt rocked through the body. "Well, that ends this conversation. You need to do it now. I don't want the boy to feel this." He reached up for a bandana only to discover that there weren't any remaining. "How remarkable." Instead he ripped off a strip of cloth from the shirt and stuck it between his teeth.
Cologne stepped forward and placed her hands on either side of his head. Once again screams of pain could be heard throughout the city.
A dizzying pattern appeared out of the gray mists. An indistinct shape, perhaps that of a man, darker than its surroundings materialized.
For every person in the world there comes a moment in time that makes him choose what it is that he stands for, what it is he believes in, what he wants. For many this moment is brief almost unnoticeable. An act of kindness done when no one looks, a selfish action done without a care, both moments of decision that can shape worlds. It is said that the flapping of a butterfly's wings somewhere could cause a hurricane on the other side of the world. Chaos. But what if chaos had a purpose, a design, a plan.
Images solidifed. The pattern swirled a bit less, the man's shape lost some of its fuzziness.
Perhaps what if what people had always thought of as chaos, was in fact something else entirely. What if a subtle nudge could make two unrelated things come together in such a way as to hang the balance of the universe on a single toss of the dice or choice of a path. What would that nudge be? Would it be an errant, biting bug that causes a man to pause and miss a bus? That would seem to be a rather unlikely vector for the plan of the universe.
The mists started to fade away to reveal that the shape was indeed that of a man, one wearing something large on his back. The quiet sounds of footsteps on a dirt path can be heard.
Another problem with small tools is that they are unable to fix problems in the pattern unless they are in exactly the right spot or close enough to get there. What the forces of fate needs is to create a tool that can go anywhere and still have enough force to do what needed to be done. Difficult to do, perhaps impossible. But maybe that was the wrong approach. What if something like it already existed? Maybe it could be made to help of its own free will. But what does someone with that much power want?
The man continued to walk through the mists and his features start to become more distinct. He is wearing a yellow tunic with long sleeves that opens on the right side. His unruly black hair ruffled as if in a soft breeze, but no breeze can be felt. A bandana is wrapped around his head holding some of the hair back. On top of his pack a large, red umbrella is strapped.
A trade. A trade must be made. It couldn't be anything that diminished its effectiveness. No, that would never do. But what if this tool wanted something else? Something that increased its usefulness? That would be the perfect deal, one where everyone profits multiple times. Would it agree? Or a better question might be could it refuse if it knew the consequences if it did so."Hello Ryoga."
The man was obviously startled for he jumped several feet into the air and lands in a ready position. "Who's there?" There wasn't the slightest quaver in his voice.
"There is no need to be afraid Ryoga. It's not like anything can attack us here." The voice chuckles. "No one else is here and I certainly won't hurt you. I swear on the honor of my family."
A second shape coalesces out of the mists and steps forward. He is quite different than the first being not quite so tall and rather bent with age. His hair is all white and a great sense of antiquity is conveyed. But also comes the knowledge that the man is nothing anyone could consider weak.
"Where am I?" Ryoga winces thinking of all the times he had said that simple statement. "This is one place that I am absolutely sure is not Tokyo, and if that's true then I've never been here before."
The man chuckles again. "You have that right my boy. This is definitely not Tokyo. You see we aren't really anywhere really. Your wrong though when say you've never been here before though. You have come here far more often than any three of your ancestors ever did combined. Unfortunately you have even less conscious control over it than any of them."
Ryoga was obviously annoyed. "What on earth are you talking about?"
"No, no, no my boy! Not ON earth, but rather OFF earth. This is, well, this is what some people call the ethereal plane, but that is a really bad name for it. The Hibiki's have always called this place The Path."
His annoyance had turned to outrage. How dare this man mock his family's traditions. "This isn't The Path! The Path is the way of the honorable warrior. The way of the Hibiki. We walk The Path in our fight against the darkness. How dare you say that this place is The Path!"
The old man beamed. "That's exactly correct my boy. You got it all right on the first try!"
Ryoga only stared at the old man. Hadn't he heard anything that Ryoga had just said? Was he just that oblivious?
"Oh you still don't understand do you?" The man sighed rubbing his hands over his face. "You're still stuck on all that metaphysical crap." The man started muttering to himself. "I knew I should have done something about that aspect of the training when I kept running into this problem." He seemed completely oblivious to the fact that Ryoga's eyes had bugged out. "Oh well. Sit down my boy there's apparently a great deal I need to teach you. Go on. Sit down."
