Disclaimer: I don't own Ranma 1/2.
Contact Info:
ashez2ashes@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/ashez2ashes/
----
Lost Days Lamenting Lost Days
Chapter 7
----
The spicy aroma of his soup wafted up through the air toward Ryouga's senses. He wasn't sure what kind of soup it was. The taste reminded him of his potluck concoctions he'd often make on his travels.
He swirled the contents for a moment, watching the odd colored vegetables fall from his spoon.
"Are you going to eat that or just pick at it?" The old man's hollow laugh echoed through the empty restaurant. Ryouga glanced up at his host. The man looked back at him with unreadable brown eyes.
The old man hadn't tried to eat Ryouga's brains yet, so that had to be a good sign.
The restaurant was small but cozy with yellow and white booths, fresh flowers, and glistening counter tops. The building was old but well taken care of. It had a home-like feel to it. Or at least Ryouga thought it did, he wasn't exactly sure what home was supposed to feel like.
"So what's your name anyway?" Ryouga took another sip of his soup. It was a good place to start as any. He had never been good at the art of conversation.
"Oh, I forgotten haven't I?" The old man chuckled, but the laughter did not reach his eyes. "The name's Kenji Benkeru. Is the soup good?"
Mr. Benkeru stared off into nothing.
Ryouga nodded his head in return. "Oh, yeah it's good soup. Heh, I used to have an uncle named Kenji." He frowned slightly as he bit down on something hard and crunchy. What the hell was he eating anyway?
"Really? Where is he now?"
"We think the Bermuda Triangle. Mom told him not to buy that boat, but he wouldn't listen. Kept raving about something called a G.P.S. device. He said it would solve all his problems." Ryouga's frowned deepened. "I guess it did."
Mr. Benkeru continued to stare. "It's a fairly average name... Would you like some bread, Mr. Hibiki?" He stood up and walked behind the counter.
"No thank you."
"Are you sure? It's Mr. Benkeru's famous bread." Mr. Benkeru stooped behind the counter and procured the wrapped bread. "Not what I had wanted, but it will do..."
Ryouga started to choke on a vegetable. He was in a BREAD store of all places. It was like his vision... Hell everything had been about his hallucinations lately. Going crazy wouldn't have been so bad, if he'd been having visions of lottery numbers.
"This is a bread store? Is any of the bread burning?"
The old man looked over his shoulder. "No, I don't think so. Should it be?"
"Uh... " Ryouga put a hand behind his head and laughed nervously. This was getting him nowhere. Why was he even here? Free food? He wasn't Ranma; food wasn't the driving force in his life. So why? He didn't even know this man. You live a long time; you get old and die. A broken body was the consequence of living so long. He couldn't help this man. He didn't WANT to help this man.
But, he still wanted to know what the hell was up with him. Maybe he was on some weird reality show?
Ryouga covertly looked around for hidden cameras.
Mr. Benkeru walked around the counter again slowly, using the side of the counter to balance himself. Carefully, he sat himself down again across from Ryouga. His face twitched with pain, but the emotion was quickly covered up.
Ryouga averted his eyes. No, there was nothing else he could do. He already stuck his neck out for someone, and personal experience told him, when you stick your neck out for strangers you usually get it chopped off. The last time he helped someone, he got ran over by a SEMI of all things. There was also the street girl, but he seemed to have simply annoyed her. He probably should have let the old man die, he was going to go soon anyways.
He felt a twinge of guilt. No, he couldn't have done that. He wasn't a complete bastard.
"Here just take a piece, it's free. Bread's nothing to fight over." Mr. Benkeru sat a loaf of bread in front of his guest and then picked up a coffee mug for himself.
Ryouga began to choke again.
"Is it all right?" The old man's gazed seemed to look straight through him as he sipped his coffee. "I can't see things like I used to. But I think it's what you wanted."
"Yeah... the bread is very good. Thank you." Ryouga coughed and took a sip of his water. "I just choked a bit, that's all."
"Are you sure you're fine?" Mr. Benkeru's gazed finally fully focused on him. Ryouga idly noted the words 'I love you grandpa' on the front of the coffee mug.
"Oh, I always look like this." He touched the slender scar beneath his eyelid. "Well, mostly like this."
"This wasn't what you wanted right now was it? I get confused sometimes on the here and now and think that yesterday's tomorrow isn't today." The bread man laughed softly to himself and without mirth.
"Uh..." Ryouga was too confused to think up a reply.
The conversation lapsed into uncomfortable silence. The old man must have been too polite to ask him how he got the scar, or he just didn't care. Ryouga's eyes trailed along the contents of the room. On a far wall, a small wall shelf held several trinkets, including a small carved stone cat. But what was really piqued his interest was a family photo sitting next to it. The picture had been taken several years before. Mr. Benkeru's face looked slightly younger and happier. The wrinkles on his face seemed less pronounced somehow, as if they were made laughing instead of frowning. Also, an older woman sat beside him with aging gray hair and a smile upon her face. But most importantly, an oddly familiar young girl no older than thirteen sat in front of them with long hair.
He knew that girl... He squinted his eyes. He had seen her before. It was that prost-- er girl from the other day. Younger perhaps, and less dark and dreary, but it still had to be her. What was he supposed to do now?
"I don't know what I was doing on the bridge." The old man stirred his coffee quietly seemingly unconcerned despite his words. "It was like I was in a dream...But, I'm not sure what good it does. I can't remember my most important task, and without it I'm better off dead." Mr. Benkeru shrugged.
Ryouga blinked in confusion. First, he thanked him for saving him, now he WANTED to die? And he was being rather casual about the whole situation.
"I could have at least recovered some honor. I can't believe I lost it..." The bread man sipped his coffee. "Oh well."
Huh?
"Excuse me Mister, not to sound rude or anything but what the hell is going on? First you thank me for saving you, now you wished I hadn't? And what did you loose?" Ryouga was more than out of his depth here, he was drowning in a sea of depth.
"You are not looking for it yet?" He waved his hand dismissively in the air. "I get confused." He sighed. "But it does not matter."
Ryouga was saved from having to reply by a brick crashing through the window. Pieces of glass spread out like a current of knives, but Ryouga was fast enough to shield the old man. The brick bounced off his back.
It felt like a baby's kick.
Looking through the shattered window, he could see six hooded forms armed with baseball bats and clubs in one hand and torches in the other. Another brick landed on the table, barely missing Ryouga's now cold soup by inches.
"Are they back again?" Mr. Benkeru, rolled his eyes unfazed. The hooded figures sneered at the old man as they approached. Seemingly ignored, Ryouga quietly made his way to a side door.
One of the hooded figures stepped forward. The torchlight eerily highlighted the shadows of his cloak, creating an almost demonic visage. "The Red Right Hand demands you give us the key." The hooded figure's voice lowered. "The master's wishes shall be fulfilled."
To Ryouga's amazement, Mr. Benkeru walked back to his seat, brushed the glass off his chair, and continued to sip his coffee.
"Are you making fun of us old man?!" One of the cult members swung his baseball bat expertly and leered but did not come in yet.
"Give you what?" The old man rubbed his bearded chin. "The education system has been really failing us lately. Tsk tsk, what kind of name for is Red Right Hand? In my day, we had good names for our cults."
"You stupid old bastard! We'll burn you to the ground! You will be an example! No one shall oppose the Red Right Hand. No one--erk." Erk? The cultist's eyes widened in surprise as he crumpled to the ground in a heap.
"I probably should have something witty to say right now." Ryouga shrugged behind the fallen attacker's body. "Oh well, screw it." He barely had time to smirk before they came at him as one.
They weren't very good in all honesty. Ryouga ducked and watched his attacker swing at him. He caught the wrist of the next on mid-swing and disarmed him. A quick thrust with the stolen weapon to the guy's stomach downed him.
They were so slow to him, he could have thought up a grocery list in between punches. After all this time becoming used to Ranma, it was nice to be reminded that he was a badass.
Just...slightly less of a badass then Ranma.
The cultists regrouped, forming a circle around him. Ryouga noticed mild skill in a few as they switched their stances. Not really feeling like a drawn-out battle, Ryouga jumped into the fray, knocking out two before he hit the ground. He felt his ribs twinge slightly as he landed, but ignored it. A figure to his right pulled out a pair of nunchucks. Grinning maliciously, he whipped them out and flashed a few flips and strikes. Ryouga would have laughed if it hadn't been a very Ranma thing to do. Idly, he pulled off a bandanna and aimed it at the man's weapon. It caught up in the chains and sent the nunchuckus into their owner's face, effectively knocking him out.
Only a flashy idiot uses nunchukus in a real fight.
The fight was over in less than five minutes.
Ryouga looked over the carnage and scratched his head. What do you do with twenty unconscious creepy hooded guys?
"Uh, hey old man, are you all right?" Ryouga looked over his shoulder and into the restaurant.
"Sure." The old man sat down his cup. "Heh, I'm going to need a new window." He looked back up. "You need some rope?"
Ryouga nodded dumbly. The old man retrieved the rope and handed to him. The not so lost boy spent the next ten minutes tying up the men. He didn't want to admit it, but he sort of felt like Batman.
"So... I'm going to leave now." Ryouga picked up his backpack from the restaurant and turned to leave. "I've got places I need to be." Places? Bullshi-- "Ya going to be ok?"
Mr. Benkeru looked up at him from his chair sipping coffee. "No. But try to stop by again, maybe I'll have found what I was looking for. I better call the police..." He paused and his eyes seemed to focus to crystal clarity and the corners of his lips quirked up for a split second. "You know what I'd really like right now? Some okonomiyaki. Ah, but I don't have any cabbage."
The old bread seller laughed to himself, closed the door, and turned off the lights, leaving Ryouga standing alone on the dark street.
That had been... an interesting experience.
Stepping over the fallen bodies, he walked over to a phone booth and called the police. He'd have the number memorized at this rate. He didn't really trust the old man to call himself. Assured that the police would be there soon--not that it mattered, those guys weren't getting up anytime soon, he turned toward his destination.
The sun had begun to rise, sending cascades of orange and pink across the horizon. A new day was dawning... Come to think of it when was the last time he'd gotten any sleep? Oh well, plenty of time to sleep when you're dead.
"Okonomiyaki sounds pretty good right now..."
He began to head back to Ucchan's.
----
Contact Info:
ashez2ashes@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/ashez2ashes/
Contact Info:
ashez2ashes@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/ashez2ashes/
----
Lost Days Lamenting Lost Days
Chapter 7
----
The spicy aroma of his soup wafted up through the air toward Ryouga's senses. He wasn't sure what kind of soup it was. The taste reminded him of his potluck concoctions he'd often make on his travels.
He swirled the contents for a moment, watching the odd colored vegetables fall from his spoon.
"Are you going to eat that or just pick at it?" The old man's hollow laugh echoed through the empty restaurant. Ryouga glanced up at his host. The man looked back at him with unreadable brown eyes.
The old man hadn't tried to eat Ryouga's brains yet, so that had to be a good sign.
The restaurant was small but cozy with yellow and white booths, fresh flowers, and glistening counter tops. The building was old but well taken care of. It had a home-like feel to it. Or at least Ryouga thought it did, he wasn't exactly sure what home was supposed to feel like.
"So what's your name anyway?" Ryouga took another sip of his soup. It was a good place to start as any. He had never been good at the art of conversation.
"Oh, I forgotten haven't I?" The old man chuckled, but the laughter did not reach his eyes. "The name's Kenji Benkeru. Is the soup good?"
Mr. Benkeru stared off into nothing.
Ryouga nodded his head in return. "Oh, yeah it's good soup. Heh, I used to have an uncle named Kenji." He frowned slightly as he bit down on something hard and crunchy. What the hell was he eating anyway?
"Really? Where is he now?"
"We think the Bermuda Triangle. Mom told him not to buy that boat, but he wouldn't listen. Kept raving about something called a G.P.S. device. He said it would solve all his problems." Ryouga's frowned deepened. "I guess it did."
Mr. Benkeru continued to stare. "It's a fairly average name... Would you like some bread, Mr. Hibiki?" He stood up and walked behind the counter.
"No thank you."
"Are you sure? It's Mr. Benkeru's famous bread." Mr. Benkeru stooped behind the counter and procured the wrapped bread. "Not what I had wanted, but it will do..."
Ryouga started to choke on a vegetable. He was in a BREAD store of all places. It was like his vision... Hell everything had been about his hallucinations lately. Going crazy wouldn't have been so bad, if he'd been having visions of lottery numbers.
"This is a bread store? Is any of the bread burning?"
The old man looked over his shoulder. "No, I don't think so. Should it be?"
"Uh... " Ryouga put a hand behind his head and laughed nervously. This was getting him nowhere. Why was he even here? Free food? He wasn't Ranma; food wasn't the driving force in his life. So why? He didn't even know this man. You live a long time; you get old and die. A broken body was the consequence of living so long. He couldn't help this man. He didn't WANT to help this man.
But, he still wanted to know what the hell was up with him. Maybe he was on some weird reality show?
Ryouga covertly looked around for hidden cameras.
Mr. Benkeru walked around the counter again slowly, using the side of the counter to balance himself. Carefully, he sat himself down again across from Ryouga. His face twitched with pain, but the emotion was quickly covered up.
Ryouga averted his eyes. No, there was nothing else he could do. He already stuck his neck out for someone, and personal experience told him, when you stick your neck out for strangers you usually get it chopped off. The last time he helped someone, he got ran over by a SEMI of all things. There was also the street girl, but he seemed to have simply annoyed her. He probably should have let the old man die, he was going to go soon anyways.
He felt a twinge of guilt. No, he couldn't have done that. He wasn't a complete bastard.
"Here just take a piece, it's free. Bread's nothing to fight over." Mr. Benkeru sat a loaf of bread in front of his guest and then picked up a coffee mug for himself.
Ryouga began to choke again.
"Is it all right?" The old man's gazed seemed to look straight through him as he sipped his coffee. "I can't see things like I used to. But I think it's what you wanted."
"Yeah... the bread is very good. Thank you." Ryouga coughed and took a sip of his water. "I just choked a bit, that's all."
"Are you sure you're fine?" Mr. Benkeru's gazed finally fully focused on him. Ryouga idly noted the words 'I love you grandpa' on the front of the coffee mug.
"Oh, I always look like this." He touched the slender scar beneath his eyelid. "Well, mostly like this."
"This wasn't what you wanted right now was it? I get confused sometimes on the here and now and think that yesterday's tomorrow isn't today." The bread man laughed softly to himself and without mirth.
"Uh..." Ryouga was too confused to think up a reply.
The conversation lapsed into uncomfortable silence. The old man must have been too polite to ask him how he got the scar, or he just didn't care. Ryouga's eyes trailed along the contents of the room. On a far wall, a small wall shelf held several trinkets, including a small carved stone cat. But what was really piqued his interest was a family photo sitting next to it. The picture had been taken several years before. Mr. Benkeru's face looked slightly younger and happier. The wrinkles on his face seemed less pronounced somehow, as if they were made laughing instead of frowning. Also, an older woman sat beside him with aging gray hair and a smile upon her face. But most importantly, an oddly familiar young girl no older than thirteen sat in front of them with long hair.
He knew that girl... He squinted his eyes. He had seen her before. It was that prost-- er girl from the other day. Younger perhaps, and less dark and dreary, but it still had to be her. What was he supposed to do now?
"I don't know what I was doing on the bridge." The old man stirred his coffee quietly seemingly unconcerned despite his words. "It was like I was in a dream...But, I'm not sure what good it does. I can't remember my most important task, and without it I'm better off dead." Mr. Benkeru shrugged.
Ryouga blinked in confusion. First, he thanked him for saving him, now he WANTED to die? And he was being rather casual about the whole situation.
"I could have at least recovered some honor. I can't believe I lost it..." The bread man sipped his coffee. "Oh well."
Huh?
"Excuse me Mister, not to sound rude or anything but what the hell is going on? First you thank me for saving you, now you wished I hadn't? And what did you loose?" Ryouga was more than out of his depth here, he was drowning in a sea of depth.
"You are not looking for it yet?" He waved his hand dismissively in the air. "I get confused." He sighed. "But it does not matter."
Ryouga was saved from having to reply by a brick crashing through the window. Pieces of glass spread out like a current of knives, but Ryouga was fast enough to shield the old man. The brick bounced off his back.
It felt like a baby's kick.
Looking through the shattered window, he could see six hooded forms armed with baseball bats and clubs in one hand and torches in the other. Another brick landed on the table, barely missing Ryouga's now cold soup by inches.
"Are they back again?" Mr. Benkeru, rolled his eyes unfazed. The hooded figures sneered at the old man as they approached. Seemingly ignored, Ryouga quietly made his way to a side door.
One of the hooded figures stepped forward. The torchlight eerily highlighted the shadows of his cloak, creating an almost demonic visage. "The Red Right Hand demands you give us the key." The hooded figure's voice lowered. "The master's wishes shall be fulfilled."
To Ryouga's amazement, Mr. Benkeru walked back to his seat, brushed the glass off his chair, and continued to sip his coffee.
"Are you making fun of us old man?!" One of the cult members swung his baseball bat expertly and leered but did not come in yet.
"Give you what?" The old man rubbed his bearded chin. "The education system has been really failing us lately. Tsk tsk, what kind of name for is Red Right Hand? In my day, we had good names for our cults."
"You stupid old bastard! We'll burn you to the ground! You will be an example! No one shall oppose the Red Right Hand. No one--erk." Erk? The cultist's eyes widened in surprise as he crumpled to the ground in a heap.
"I probably should have something witty to say right now." Ryouga shrugged behind the fallen attacker's body. "Oh well, screw it." He barely had time to smirk before they came at him as one.
They weren't very good in all honesty. Ryouga ducked and watched his attacker swing at him. He caught the wrist of the next on mid-swing and disarmed him. A quick thrust with the stolen weapon to the guy's stomach downed him.
They were so slow to him, he could have thought up a grocery list in between punches. After all this time becoming used to Ranma, it was nice to be reminded that he was a badass.
Just...slightly less of a badass then Ranma.
The cultists regrouped, forming a circle around him. Ryouga noticed mild skill in a few as they switched their stances. Not really feeling like a drawn-out battle, Ryouga jumped into the fray, knocking out two before he hit the ground. He felt his ribs twinge slightly as he landed, but ignored it. A figure to his right pulled out a pair of nunchucks. Grinning maliciously, he whipped them out and flashed a few flips and strikes. Ryouga would have laughed if it hadn't been a very Ranma thing to do. Idly, he pulled off a bandanna and aimed it at the man's weapon. It caught up in the chains and sent the nunchuckus into their owner's face, effectively knocking him out.
Only a flashy idiot uses nunchukus in a real fight.
The fight was over in less than five minutes.
Ryouga looked over the carnage and scratched his head. What do you do with twenty unconscious creepy hooded guys?
"Uh, hey old man, are you all right?" Ryouga looked over his shoulder and into the restaurant.
"Sure." The old man sat down his cup. "Heh, I'm going to need a new window." He looked back up. "You need some rope?"
Ryouga nodded dumbly. The old man retrieved the rope and handed to him. The not so lost boy spent the next ten minutes tying up the men. He didn't want to admit it, but he sort of felt like Batman.
"So... I'm going to leave now." Ryouga picked up his backpack from the restaurant and turned to leave. "I've got places I need to be." Places? Bullshi-- "Ya going to be ok?"
Mr. Benkeru looked up at him from his chair sipping coffee. "No. But try to stop by again, maybe I'll have found what I was looking for. I better call the police..." He paused and his eyes seemed to focus to crystal clarity and the corners of his lips quirked up for a split second. "You know what I'd really like right now? Some okonomiyaki. Ah, but I don't have any cabbage."
The old bread seller laughed to himself, closed the door, and turned off the lights, leaving Ryouga standing alone on the dark street.
That had been... an interesting experience.
Stepping over the fallen bodies, he walked over to a phone booth and called the police. He'd have the number memorized at this rate. He didn't really trust the old man to call himself. Assured that the police would be there soon--not that it mattered, those guys weren't getting up anytime soon, he turned toward his destination.
The sun had begun to rise, sending cascades of orange and pink across the horizon. A new day was dawning... Come to think of it when was the last time he'd gotten any sleep? Oh well, plenty of time to sleep when you're dead.
"Okonomiyaki sounds pretty good right now..."
He began to head back to Ucchan's.
----
Contact Info:
ashez2ashes@yahoo.com
http://www.geocities.com/ashez2ashes/