Disclaimer (CMA): The characters and settings used in this story are the property of their respective owners. They are used here without permission, but with no malicious or libelous intent. The author receives no compensation for this work aside from peer reviews.
Ukyou had just finished closing up the shop, and was getting ready to lock up for the night, when she noticed a familiar figure heading towards her down the walk.
"Heya, Ucchan! How's business?" Ranma called out to her.
"Ranchan! Oh, it's been great! Say, sugar, I was just closing up, but if you'd like, why not come in for a bite? On me, of course."
"Aww, I dunno… but Akane's cookin' tonight, so, yeah, I guess."
"Hey, don't be so hard on her. Some got the talent; some don't, y'know?"
"Oh, I know, all right. Believe me, I know…"
"So what'll it be?"
"Hahhh… beef sounds good."
"Sure thing, honey! One beef okonomiyaki, comin' right up!"
"Thanks, Ucchan. Ano… y'know, I've been wantin' ta talk to ya, about—"
A crinkling of glass sounded from the storefront window, and Ranma convulsed on the barstool. Ukyou was behind him in an instant, to catch him when he collapsed. She watched in horror as blood seeped from his back, forming a red pool on the floor.
"Oh God, oh my… oh my GOD! RANCHAN! NOOOOOOO! RANCHAAAAAN!" She refused to believe it, this just couldn't be real… nobody would kill her Ranchan… nobody could kill her Ranchan… nobody… no…
Ukyou broke down in wracking sobs.
"Got ya! All right, now to head back home, and get paid! Oh, I can see it now… with all that money, I can find a sweet, sweet home, where I'll live with my wonderful husband and my darling children and a cuuute pet and… oh, but I need to find a husband first…"
Ranma awoke, feeling a little woozy, but otherwise fine. That lasted only until he sat up and saw the dark stain on the sheet he'd been covered with. He vomited.
"W- where am I?" he asked, his voice cracking a bit. He remembered meeting Ukyou just outside the Ucchan; then he'd gone in for some okonomiyaki, and he was about to say something to Ukyou… and… he couldn't remember anything after that. But the blood… all that blood… was that really his? He didn't feel like he was bleeding. Looking around, he didn't see anyone else, but realized he was still in Ukyou's restaurant. Where was Ukyou, though?
"Ambulance! Please, it's an emergency; someone just shot my… my fiancé, and he's bleeding all over, please, help, send an ambulance, please!"
"Just calm down, ma'am, and tell me your name and address, so we can dispatch a vehicle as soon as possible."
"K-Kuonji Ukyou; please, you've got to hurry!"
"Kuonji-san, where are you calling from?"
"Th-the Okonomiyaki U-ucchan… p-please…"
"All right, Miss Kuonji, we can have an ambulance there within ten minutes; please wait with the victim until it arrives, so the medical team can find him."
"Oh, God, please hurry…"
"Ucchan?" Ranma could hear her distraught cries coming from the back room, and made his way behind the counter to check on her.
"Ucchan?" he repeated. "Are ya okay?"
Rounding the corner, he saw her leaning against a stack of boxes, phone receiver in one hand, her apron clutched white-knuckled in the other.
"Hey, Ucchan… what happened?"
Ukyou looked up at him from the phone, at which she'd been staring so intently, she imagined she could see the operator at the other end, wasting time with questions instead of sending someone to help Ranchan. At first, she seemed not to recognize him—then she was overcome with shock.
"Oh, God, Ranchan… you… you've already died… I was too late… oh God oh God OH GOD OH GOD YOU'RE A GHOST, YOU'RE GONNA HAUNT ME FOREVER, I'M SO SORRY RANCHAN I COULDN'T SAVE YOU OH GOD OH GOD—"
"Hey! Ucchan! Hold on a sec, what're ya talkin' about, dead? I ain't felt better in my life. I mean, jeez, could I do this 'f I were dead?" he quipped, taking the phone from her hand.
Her gaze flicked from Ranma's face, to the phone, to her hand, then returned once more to stare into his slate-blue eyes. "R- Ran- Ranchan? But I saw… saw the blood… and you fell… how, how did you… oh, God, Ranchan!" She screamed, then launched herself at him, wrapping him in a glomp that would make Shampoo jealous. She continued to sob into his chest for several minutes; then he felt her breathing slow down, and her sobs turn into soft snores, as the day's stress and the evening's ordeal took their toll on her.
"Moshi-moshi, Aoi-juusotsu*. So, how did it go?"
"Great, Commander. It was just like you said it would be, go in, shoot, get out. Easy!"
"Well, that's good to hear. Unfortunately, you managed to shoot the wrong person."
"W-WHAT?! What do you mean, the wrong one? I even checked and double-checked with the computer! It's him, I tell you; the very one! Saotome Ranma, right? That's who I got! See, it says right here, right here, M- M- Momonari… Junta? But… but…"
"Are you quite finished, Aoi-juusotsu? Yes, it would seem you either misread the target's name, or… perhaps you've been reading too many manga?"
"I- I- oh, shit…"
"I bid you good luck on the remainder of your mission. Remember, reverse your own damage first, dekisokonai-juusotsu**. Over and out."
"H- hai… uh, c-c-computer, analyze the effects of the DCM applied, and p-prepare a counter-agent."
Ukyou opened her eyes a crack. Voices were wafting through the air; sometimes they were so loud they echoed in her head to the point of pain; sometimes they were so soft she couldn't hear the words, just the sounds. Forcing her eyes to open the rest of the way, she made out a few blurs nearby; one had a recognizable pigtail, but the others were a mystery. Straining her ears, she began to pick up on the conversation…
"I'm tellin' ya, I'm fine! I don't need no stinkin' surgery, bullet or no. Actually, I feel better than I ever have, so, sorry for the false alarm or whatever, but we're okay; just go back ta the hospital."
"Sir, it's mandatory that we at least confirm the status of the patient before releasing you—"
"I'm alive, okay? Status confirmed! Jeez, I don't wanna be mean, but ye're makin' a big deal outta nothin'!"
"Y-yes, sir. Very well, then, er, orderly, please mark the patient's record, and we'll, ah, be on our way; sumimasen, Saotome-san."
Ukyou uncurled from a fetal position, and picked herself up from the booth she was laying in. Returning from the door, Ranma saw her sit up, and walked over to sit beside her.
"Ranchan? What… what happened? Back then, I mean… what happened to you?"
"I… dunno, ta be honest. The doc says I got some kinda 'bullet wound trauma,' but like I told him, I'll tell ya, too, I'm okay. I'll be fine." He smiled at her.
It wasn't the first smile she'd seen on him, no, but… something about him seemed so… so different about this smile. It was a beautiful smile… so wonderful, so breathtaking; almost as if he were a glittering star, shining in the heavens, the star she was shooting for…
Ranma waved a hand in front of her face. "Ucchan? Hey, Ucchan? Ya okay? Ya don't seem like yerself."
"Ranchan… oh, Ranchan… don't ever leave me, never… you're everything I've ever wanted, ever needed…"
"Ucchan?! What the… what're ya doin'?! Hey, hey; don't touch me there! Stop! STOP!"
The restaurant door was almost ripped from its hinges by merely the wind drawn up as he rushed through it.
"T-tadaima!… uh, anybody home?"
"Ranma-kun? Is that you?"
"Yeah."
"Where have you been? It's quite late, and everyone else has already gone to bed. And… oh, my! You're—you're covered in blood!"
"Ano… well, I stopped by Ucchan's fer a bit on the way home, and there was a bit of an accident…"
"An accident? What happened?! That looks almost like… like a gunshot wound!"
"Er… I'm really not sure… the ambulance came an' all, and the doc said it was from a bullet, too, but I'm okay. So I just came home."
"Are you sure, Ranma-kun? I've read that trauma victims sometimes don't realize how injured they are…"
"Kasumi, don't worry 'bout it. I'm all right." And he smiled….
Author's Note:
Yet another spamfic from my twisted mind. I might even lengthen it a bit; right now it's at just the point where (if you've seen/read both canon stories) you can kind of imagine where things are going….
Comments? Critique? Please!
*juusotsu = inferior, like a military private
**dekisokonai = failure/good-for-nothing