Between Asleep and Awake
A Ranma 1/2 fanfiction
By Mika the Raven
Disclaimer: Don't sue, didn't do it for the money
0010101000010101100011000110011001001010010100101001010010100101000111010101001010
Entropy
Not clean light, after all: not sweet atomic
absolution of our myriad sins
in one swift Lenten smear of ash, a faint thumbprint
shadow on a shattered concrete sky.
The silence we were promised after sirens
above a blasted blameless graveyard world
is broken daily into shards of shrapnel
both trivial and lethal, an ever-cresting
tide eroding eyes, ears and minds.
In place of Oppenheimer's Trinity,
the passionate intensity of vermin
beset by ancient plagues goes seeping out
along a web of unsuspected faults
until some tower tumbles, lightning-struck
past metaphor or merest understanding.
Surely whatever falconer we trusted
to gyre that final bird into a night
both mutual and assured is lost -- or missing
behind these lines redrawn to locate center,
and formulate the new survivor's question:
not what rough beast, but which rough beast this time?
0101010101010101010101011101011010110101101011010110100010100101100110001010011001
Chapter 8b: A Good Day To Die
From rooftop to rooftop he lept as though the very hordes of the underworld were at his back, he didn't care, his only desire was to put as much distance between himself and whatever it was that thing masquerading as a doctor happened to be. He had not been this panicked since the pit, had not been transformed in to a mindless creature of instinct concerned only with survival. It was disparaging, the ease with which he was brought to his state. Nevertheless he ran, ignoring the shouting voice of the Cat. He did not listen, as his continued existence hinged on reaching the old ghoul.
"I WOULD NOT GO THERE IF I WERE YOU BOY!" Said The Cat, sounding nearly as anxious as he himself was terrified.
His chest was on fire, his wound strangely healed yet still gaping wide, felt like something was trying to tear itself free of him.
"Why shouldn't I go huh? The Old Ghoul has always been able ta help me before ya know." Ranma yelled out continuing his forward motion.
For once the Cat did not supply an immediate answer, nor did he flex his control over Ranma's actions.
"I MERELY STATE THAT IN YOUR CURRENT CONDITION IT WOULD BE FOOLISH ON YOUR PART TO APPROACH THAT ONE. SHE IS A DANGER TO US." he said softly, which caused Ranma to slow a bit.
"And what exactly is my current condition huh? Why should I believe anything ya say?" Ranma bellowed as he continued in the direction of the Nekohanten. "Ya ain't done nothin' but made my life go from bad ta worse since tha day ya decided ta pop in my head! I want straight answers, or I try my luck with tha ghoul! So what's it gonna be?"
Ranma could feel the cat mulling over his options, not that he was able to hear him but sometime one just got a sense for things.
"VERY WELL BOY YOU SHALL HAVE YOUR ANSWERS, BUT NOT HERE." His feline oppressor growled out. "CONTINUE HEADING NORTH TOWARDS YOUR SCHOOL. ENTER THROUGH THE DOOR ON THE ROOF, BUT BEWARE IT WILL NOT BE THE SCHOOL YOU ARE ENERING, BUT THE GLOAMING."
With that the cat went silent, and for the first time in months Ranma could not feel even the slightest bit of its presence. His path decided, he made it to the roof top in record time. Without hesitating he ripped the roof access door of it's hinges, and went inside.
The hallway was long, and dark, and it seemed as though he had been walking forever.
Well, not forever, Ranma mentally amended. Hours, perhaps. An hour, maybe not even that, It was hard to tell as there was no moon or stars to show him the way.
The floor on which his footsteps echoed on was lined with black tile, chipped and broken in places. The walls were of some material he couldn't identify; the lack of color in this world made his sense of texture uncertain at best.Roughly every five minutes - he had counted - he would pass a black picture frame, inside which was mounted a featureless black canvas. Who had hung them? Were they just naturally occurring features of this place?
Was there a sky? Of course there was, he firmly told himself. There had to be.
After a minute or two of walking, the path opened up into a clearing. A cabin, the chimney smoking, sat in the middle of it. He started to walk towards it, then hesitated. What sort of person - what sort of thing - made its home here?
He stared at the cabin, torn, and then the door swung open.
The figure that emerged was short, and dressed in baggy greens and blacks. A leather hatband and the tattered remains of a hat brim held a shock of unruly black hair in place. A shotgun was casually held in one small hand, but only a pair of green eyes seemed to be aimed at him.
He had to be all of eleven years old, Ranma guessed.
"Hello?" He said cautiously, keeping a careful eye on the gun. He wasn't sure what a kid was doing here, and he wasn't completely convinced that he was a child at all. The memory of the cats warning on the hill was still lurking in the back of his mind.
"Hello," the boy said, an undertone of amusement in his voice.
Ranma waited for a second. The boy smiled slightly.
"Who are ya?" he asked, feeling slightly awkward.
"A Raven." the boy replied. The grin grew broader.
"Is something funny?" the pigtailed martial artist said, slightly annoyed. Of all the things he had been expecting to face, the amusement of a grade-schooler with a shotgun wasn't among them.
He nodded. "The way you're standing there."
He scowled. This kid reminded him way too much of himself, Wonderful. "And why is the way I'm standing so amusing?"
"Because the Kamaitachi are going to kill you in a few more seconds unless you move."
He stared at the boy slack-jawed, then he grinned, nodded, and then something leaped at him from the side.
Ranma jumped backwards as fast as he could, readying a ki-bolt as he did so. He saw what appeared to be a fanged, squealing, gnashing set of jaws close in on him like a guided missile, and desperately threw himself to the side, firing the blast upwards as he did so.
There was a scream like a crazed rat, and the thing spun, a bloody hole through its flank spurting crimson. Ranma heard the roar of the shotgun, and then the thing lunged towards him with speed he couldn't even imagine countering, he kicked at it in desparation.
His foot caught it beneath the jaws, sinking into matted, mud-colored fur. He was slammed back against a tree by the impact, and he watched with horrified fascination as the creature began to push itself further towards him along the ground, injuring itself further as it struggled to get the slashing jaws closer...
It convulsed, suddenly, and went still.
Shakily, Ranma pushed the thing away from him. Lying on the ground, he could see that it was about the size of a large dog, mostly composed of ugly, unkempt fur and a long, sinuous body. It looked like a giant weasel, he thought, save for the huge set of jaws that dominated the head. It didn't seem to have any eyes.
Turning to look at the porch, he saw the boy lower his shotgun. Two more of the things lay sprawled at the edge of the clearing, twitching slightly.
"Thanks for tha warning kiddo," Ranma said, forcing himself to keep his tone even. "I coulda been killed, ya know."
The boy grinned again. "I don't think so. You're good enough to take one of them by yourself."
"How did you know that?" he asked, suspicious. Those things had been fast... for the boy to hit both of them with fatal shots...
"I didn't," he said simply. "But if you weren't, something here would have killed you before long anyway. Do you want some food?"
Ranma stared at him. The green eyes stared back. "I don't..."
"If I was going to hurt you, I could just shoot you," he pointed out. "I promise it isn't poisoned or anything."
He dropped his head, and stepped forward. "All right. I am a bit hungry."
The strange boy nodded, and smiled as he followed him inside. "Is deer okay?"
Ranma nodded, amused in spite of himself. "Cooked, right?"
"I can cook it if you like." the boy said, his head askance.
He stopped in the doorframe, glancing around at the cabin. A wooden table and some chairs stood near a hearth, and a bookshelf leaned precariously against one wall. On a sideboard in a corner, the carcass of a stag bled. A heap of furs in one corner seemed to provide a rough bed, a battered knapsack lying tossed in a corner of it.
"Who are you?" he asked, less afraid than confused. "What are you?"
"I'm Raven," he said quietly, setting the shotgun down on the table. "And I'm a hunter, so are you."
"Ya got parents?" Ranma asked. Perhaps he was an orphan?
"Do you?" Raven pulled a long knife out of his jacket, strolled over to the stag, and began to cut a bit off.
"Somewhere else," he said. Somewhere a long, long ways away. "But I'm older than you."
Raven glanced up to look at her. "I know. You're the oldest and the youngest."
He blinked, that had caught him up short. Did he mean the youngest of his family? And the oldest of what? "Scuse' me?"
He shook his head. "How much do you want, Aniki?"
"Just a little." he smirked. "And now I'm Aniki?"
"Yup. You are." Raven sliced off a cut of meat, and moved to hold it over the hearth.
Ranma couldn't help but laugh at the kids audacity. "My brother should treat me with a little respect then. What were those things, anyway?"
"Kamaitachi. There's a couple packs of them around."
He recognized the name from another fairytale. The sickle-weasels, who always hunted in threes and were faster than the wind, faster than lightning... "Another damn living myth."
"Not anymore." Said Raven with a snort.
Ranma again smirked at the resemblance to himself. "Isn't it dangerous, living here with those things running around?"
Raven shook his head. "They don't attack me. They know better. Besides, I'm just here for a while." He turned the meat over, letting the flames lick each side equally. "I'll be moving on soon."
Ranma wasn't sure whether to be amused or alarmed by his confidence. The Kamaitachi weren't quite as fast as legend claimed, but they were still swift enough to be very, very dangerous. Unarmed, he wasn't sure how he would have done... and he strongly doubted that he could have held off three at once. A pack of them would probably have eaten this little kid up in one gulp, if they ever jumped him.
Then again, the kid was decidedly uneaten at the moment.
"Where're ya from?" he asked.
He shrugged. "I don't think I'm really from anywhere. I travel a lot, following things." With a flip of the knife, he tossed the hunk of meat onto a chipped china plate and slid it across the table to her. "What's your name, Aniki?"
"I'm Ranma, Saotome Ranma, Nice to meet ya." he bit off a hunk of the offered meat, and was pleasantly surprised by the flavor. "You're a pretty good cook, Kiddo."
"Thanks, Aniki." He smiled, and scratched at the shock of black hair above the hatband. "I do it a lot."
"I can't cook much anything but camp rations." Said Ranma, strangely embarrased at being out done by a kid.
"It's not your job," Raven said, looking amused.
He glanced at him, half-amused, half-surprised. "Why do ya say that?"
He shook his head. "I don't think it works that way."
"My fiance's older sister cooks for us." Ranma sighed. "I always wanted to be able ta give her a day off or something, since she does so much for me." A sour chuckle emerged. "Mostly though I just break things."
Raven nodded solemnly. "That's your job."
"Are you the one who divides up labor, Kiddo?" he said, chuckling.
His face darkened slightly. "Not me. I just hunt and wait."
"For what?"
"To hunt some more." He stared at her. "You don't know much, Aniki."
"Sometimes It feels like I don't really know anything," Ranma admitted.
"Then don't believe anything until you know everything, Aniki."
It was hard to tell whether or not to believe him, he thought with frustration. There was something odd about him, about this place, about the way he'd shot down the other two Kamaitachi, but he was only eleven or ten... He stared at him, suddenly certain he wasn't telling the truth. "Who are you?"
"I'm Raven, Aniki," he said. "I told you that already."
"I never had a brother who massacres people before," he said with a calm he didn't feel.
"First time for everything." He looked up sharply, frowning. "Why are you here? I knew you'd come, but I don't know why."
"You knew I'd come?" he repeated dumbly. "How?"
"Just knew. I usually know where my brothers are."
"I ain't your brother kid," Ranma said forcefully. "Were you waiting for me?"
He nodded. "I wanted to meet you."
"Why?" asked Ranma incredulously "Does it have ta do with why I'm here?"
Raven stared at the table for a second, and then shook his head. "I can't tell you Aniki, The Fair Lady would be cross, besides, It's your job to find out."
"That's okay. I have to get going, Bro. Thanks for the deer."
The boy nodded. "Aniki... be careful."
Ranma forced a smile. "No sweat."
Raven nodded, his face troubled. " The Fair Lady isn't as sensitive to your cause as I am."
"Again with this Fair Lady, who is she?" he asked, a sinking feeling rising in the pit of his stomach.
He nodded. "She's death." He froze. "She's not that far off, to the west. You'd better leave, Aniki. I might have to kill you if you don't."
Ranma looked at him for a second, nodded tersely, and stepped out the door. "Later, Raven."
"Goodbye, Aniki. You'll see me again."
And he probably would, Ranma thought dazedly, running from the cabin. It wouldn't be the strangest thing to happen of late.
The Lady was west, Raven had said, and had pointed to the left. Ranma began to angle the other way, suddenly feeling a need to move quickly. Maybe something was hunting him, and maybe it was just his imagination... but the quicker this was done, the better.
Raven remained standing in the door for a long time, watching him go. When he finally faded from sight amidst the trees, he sighed, walked back into the cabin, and picked up his shotgun and shouldered his knapsack. Taking a candle from the hearth, he set the curtain aflame, and watched until the windowframe had begun to burn.
"The circle is closed," he whispered, something in his voice afraid, and something gleeful and expectant. Then, chuckling, he dashed into the woods and headed south for the lands now crawling with prey.
From a ridge to the north, a gaunt figure with a ghost white face watched a column of smoke and flame rise from the clearing, scowled, and moved on faster than before.
End chapter 8b