The Eye of the Beholder ~ Chapter Five
DISCLAIMER: All characters except for Nayami, who is introduced in later chapters, do not belong to me. *ponders Ryoga's fangs wistfully* Unfortunately. C&C always welcome, feel free to email me at saezuru@hotmail.com if you've got any comments.
NOTE: The first Japanese song lyrics are from 'Sobakasu', which is one of the opening songs to Rurouni Kenshin. The actual song sounds very energetic and happy, though the lyrics are actually quite sad. (Yes, this actually has a sort of symbolic significance, I'm not just rambling.) The next song is the English version of the Sailor Moon opening song, and the song after that is American Pie. The final song, however, is also in Japanese, and it's the first Ranma ½ opening, 'Jajauma ni Sasenaide.' Thanks for reading!



The Eye of the Beholder
Chapter 5
"Ukyo"






"I am not!"
"Is too!"
"Am not, you Chinese, purple-haired, language-impaired, law-obsessed, ramen-serving HUSSY!"
"Yes? Well, you is a dumb, gender-confused, spandex-wearing, name-calling, flat-chested spatula-girl!"
"I am not flat-chested!!!"
"Yes, you is too too nonexistent in the chest region!"
"Am not!"
"Is too!"
Ryoga sighed, rubbing his forehead to try and get rid of his headache. Three hours, and they hadn't stopped fighting. Twice he'd had to intervene before they started drawing blood. For his efforts, he'd only gotten a colorful bonbori print in his side, and a threat from Ukyo to make him hammer out the resulting dents in her spatula this time. He watched the pair bickering away for a few more moments, and then turned his attention to the path ahead of him. Akane, walking quickly at the head of the column, hadn't said a word since they'd left camp­ she was obviously thinking about something, her expression was so pensive. He'd tried talking to her, once, but he discovered that he was chewing on the handle of his umbrella out of nervousness before he got three yards close to her. There has to be some way I can talk to her without sounding like a lunatic. There has to be . . .
Akane stared at the ground in front of her, shutting out the noises of the argument. As much fun as it would be to join in and take out her frustration on someone, she had other things to occupy her mind. And besides, she thought with a slight smile, this keeps them too busy to spot Ranma before me. She found her mind wandering to the subject of Ryoga and Ukyo. Things seemed to have gotten better from where they were earlier in the morning, but Akane was still worried. She didn't really know why, but she wanted to hook Ryoga up with someone. She felt as if he deserved someone to look after him. And Ukyo, despite her temper and tendency towards violence, seemed like the perfect match for him; and, as an added bonus, she would get rid of the "cute fiancé," as Ranma had so wonderfully put it. Not that she cared about Ranma's fiances at all, she assured herself, it was just that . . . that . . . well, it got Ukyo out of the way, and that was what mattered. The more she thought about the idea of Ukyo and Ryoga together, the more she liked it. Finally, she came up with a plan. Sort of.
"Ryoga-kun?" She dropped back on the path slightly, so that she'd be walking next to the boy. "Can I talk to you for a second?"
Ryoga jumped, as if startled. He turned wide, wild eyes upon her, and said indistinctly, "Mfrgl?!"
Akane decided to take that as an affirmative, and continued speaking. "It's just that I've been having sort of a problem. It's . . . it's kind of a delicate thing, you know, so I don't want to talk to Shampoo about it, and I definitely can't talk to Ukyo about it."
Ryoga turned wide, wild eyes upon her, and said indistinctly, "Mrfgl?!"
Akane was slightly disconcerted, but pressed onwards. "It's like this. I'm really worried about Ukyo, you see. She's been moping around a lot lately, and I think she might be lonely. I'm kind of busy fending off Shampoo, so maybe you could talk to her and try to cheer her up?"
*stare* "Mrfgl?!"
"Please, Ryoga-kun?" she pleaded, looking up at him.
*nodnodnod*
Akane smiled brightly, laying a hand on Ryoga's arm, not noticing that he looked down and stared at it as if it were the most holy thing he'd ever seen. "I knew I could count on you, Ryoga!"
Ryoga forced himself to pull himself together. "C-C-Can how mean what you?" he blurted, still staring at the hand on his arm, as if watching from a great distance.
Akane looked kind of vaguely puzzled. "Hmm?"
Ryoga swallowed, tearing his eyes from Akane's hand, and tried again. " . . . Gah!"
Akane's brow furrowed slightly. That noise he'd made sounded sort of like a positive sound, right? Akane nodded to herself. Right! "Arigato, Ryoga, arigato! You're such a wonderful guy! Ukyo's so lucky!" And Akane turned on her heel and headed back up to her place at the head of the group. What a strange guy, she thought to herself, but I guess Ukyo's strange too, so it works out.
Ryoga stared at the place she had been standing for a few minutes before the fact that she'd left made its way through his clogged mind. He then stumbled along after her, his brain the consistency of mush, and about the same level of animation.
"Is too!"
"Am NOT!"




An hour and a half later, Ryoga resurfaced from his fantasies with an almost near-to-truth memory of the conversation that had taken place. So . . . just what is wrong with Ukyo? He glanced in her direction, and noticed that she and Shampoo had somehow stopped fighting, and were walking on either sides of the path. Shampoo was staring resolutely in front of her, and expression of anger on her face, while Ukyo was looking at the ground beneath her feet while she walked, her expression unreadable. She didn't really look "mopey," as Akane had put it, or lonely, but she certainly didn't look happy. Feh, thought Ryoga sourly, She probably just misses Ranma. Everyone else certainly does. He was about to look back towards Akane, when he noticed that Ukyo was murmuring something under her breath. Ryoga could discern the words "Ranma, come back," before her voice dropped to below a whisper again. He did a double-take, and took in her unusually messy hair, which was pulled back into a ponytail haphazardly, her chef's costume which was wrinkled enough to show that she'd slept it in th night before, and her eyes, which were dull and slightly glazed from thinking by herself for a long time. He blinked­ he'd always thought of Ukyo as steady and calm, someone who'd always be there for people. She was always the happy one, the reassuring one, and here she was, so torn up about Ranma that her very appearance was being changed. Ryoga bit his lip. She may be violent, and she may hit him a lot, but she was still his friend, and he had to do something. The only question was: what could he do?
Ukyo watched the ground in front of her, although she wasn't really seeing it. She was too focused inwards, concentrating on her thoughts. Every day it was getting harder and harder to keep being her usual self, without Ranma there. Oh sure, he'd gone off without her before, but somehow this was different. Something inside her was calling for him, and she found herself laying awake at night, staring at the roof of her tent and imagining his voice calling out to her. She'd never realized how much she depended on seeing him every day, sometimes two or three times. Whether he actually came into Ucchan's to talk to her, or she just saw him briefly on the street, he was still a huge part of her life. Every ten minutes she would think she saw the flash of a red Chinese shirt, or that his face was looking out at her from a tree or group of undergrowth. She closed her eyes, forcibly pushing the depression that wanted to set in upon her out of her head. She had no room for it; after all, that was something better suited for Ryoga or someone like that. Ukyo was Ukyo-- she had to be cheerful, to keep the air from getting too heavy. And anyway, she thought brusquely, when I find him I'll get to see his friendly face again, and he'll tell me just how silly I'm being right now, worrying like this. He'll tell me that, and then we'll go back to Nerima and everything will be like it was before. It'll all be alright again. Ranma can take care of himself, better than anyone else I know.
Ukyo suddenly raised her head, and grinned. "Hey, I know," she said, causing everyone to look at her. Strange-- Ryoga had been looking at her already, with a thoughtful and slightly worried expression on his face. She pushed that observation to the back of her mind, to ponder over later.
Shampoo was slightly suspicious. "Know what, spatula-girl?"
Ukyo raised an eyebrow, smug in her idea. "I know what we can do to pass the time, and put us all in a better mood."
Ryoga looked interested, and slowed his pace a little. "Oh? What is it, Ukyo?"
Ukyo looked almost eager, for the first time in days. "It's a really good idea. Perfect."
Akane was getting interested, in spite of herself, and asked curiously, "Well, okay, but what is it? We can't do it if we don't know what it is."
Ukyo smiled, her dark eyelashes forming little upside-down half-moon shapes against her skin. "Karaoke."
*thud* Everyone facefaulted, with a mutual noise of chagrin. Ryoga was the first to recover, and asked shakily, "K-K-Karaoke . . .?"
Ukyo nodded, puzzled at everyone's reaction. "Yeah, why not? Although it's really not karaoke without the background music, we can still sing. It'll really lighten the mood around here, and it's lots of fun, too."
Shampoo rolled her eyes, and quickened her pace up again. "Only stupid spatula-girl think of such dumb plan at time like this!"
Ukyo looked hurt. "It's not a dumb plan! It's a good idea! Here, look, I'll get us started-- hey, Akane, join in with me!"
Akane hesitated, but then shook her head firmly. "No! I can't sing well at all! Especially not without music to sing along to!"
Ukyo scowled, and glared around at the two girls, and then looked pleadingly at Ryoga. "Hey, you'll sing with me, won't you, Ryo-chan?" She smiled at him in her most winning way. It worked on Ranma like a charm.
Ryoga flushed, and hoped that no one could see. "Uh-- I don't think I sh-should, Ucchan. I don't kn-kn-know many s-songs."
Ukyo looked hurt, and then sighed, shaking her head. "Never mind. I'll just sing by myself, if that's the way you're all going to be." And with that, she turned on her heel and continued walking, beginning to sing in a light, airy voice. It was actually rather pleasant, if untrained, and although they wouldn't admit it, the others felt relieved by the break in the monotonous woodland noises.


"Daikirai datta sobakasu wo chotto
hito nade shite tameiki wo hitotsu
hevii kyuu no koi ha migoto ni
kakuzatou to issho ni toketa
mae yori mo motto yaseta mune ni chotto
"chikuu" itto sasaru toge ga itai
hoshi uranai mo ate ni naranai wa . . ."


Ukyo paused, leaving room for the short instrumental guitar part. She glanced around, and saw Shampoo walking in time to the beat, Ryoga bobbing his head a little, and Akane just as unruffled as ever, though her head was turned so she could listen to Ukyo. Ukyo grinned; she was winning them over, bit by bit. She'd purposely chosen a bouncy, happy song so it'd make them want to join in. So, she continued, crossing mental fingers that she'd keep them interested enough to join in.


"Motto tooku made issho ni yuketara nee
ureshikute sore dake de . . ."


Just as she began the chorus-like part, Ukyo heard another voice join hers. Surprisingly, she realized it was Ryoga's. She hadn't expected him to join in, especially not in this song. How did he know it? The only times Ukyo had sun it, she'd been by herself. She continued singing, noticing that he had a pleasant baritone voice, one that supported hers nicely. Akane and Shampoo seemed just as surprised as she, but said nothing.


"Omoide ha itsumo kirei dakedo
sore dake ja onaka ga suku wa
hontou ha setsunai yoru nano ni
doushite kashira? Ano hito no egao mo omoidasenai no . . ."


They were at the middle part of the song, where the longer guitar instrumental part went. As they started the next verse, however, with Ukyo nodding at Ryoga so they'd start together, Shampoo started singing too, an almost "fuzzy" sort of voice, soft and melodic.


"Kowashite naoshite wakatteru noni
sore ga atashi no seikaku dakara
modokashii kimochi de ayafuyana mama de
sore demo II koi wo shite kita
omoikiri aketa hidari mimi no piasu niha nee
waraenai episodo . . ."


"Sobakasu no kazu wo kazoete miru
yogoreta nuigurumi daite
mune wo sasu toge ha kienai kedo
kaeru-chan mo usagi-chan mo
waratte kureru no . . ."


Ukyo grinned; this was getting to be a huge success! She'd known it would work, from the start. Only then she noticed that Akane was resolutely staring at the ground in front of her, her lips pressed firmly together. Ukyo sped up her walking pace in the pause between verses and touched her elbow, grinning at her. Then she nodded at her, and began the last verse. After two lines, Akane sighed, and obediently started singing as well, though she made it plain she was only doing it because she had to.


"Omoide ha itsumo kirei dakedo
sore dake ja onaka ga suku no
hontou ha setsunai yoru nano ni
doushite kashira? Ano hito no namida mo omoidasenai no
omoidasenai no
doushite nano?"


Ukyo grinned around at everyone else as the song ended and said in a teasing tone of voice, "See? Told you it'd be fun. This is good; we should try harmonies, next song."
Shampoo smiled, something that lighted her pretty face like a searchlight. "Aiya! Shampoo know what we do next, yes?"
Ryoga grinned, showing those fangs again. Ukyo felt her heart do a flip-flop unexpectedly. He should grin like that more often. But she shook herself aware in time to hear him say, "Sure, go ahead Shampoo."
Akane shook her head. "You guys are all nuts," she said with a little burr in her voice.
Ukyo laughed, her eyebrows raised. "Oh yeah? Well, we're fun nuts, which is what counts!"
Akane smiled in spite of herself, for the first time in many days Ukyo noticed. "Yeah. That's what counts."
Shampoo cleared her throat, picking up a stick, about six inches long, off the ground and holding it like a microphone. She grinned. "This is Japanese song, so you know it, yes?"


"Fighting evil by moonlight . . ."




Akane's voice was beginning to get hoarse from singing so much, but it was worth it. As they finished up setting camp that night, everyone was fairly bubbling with energy and bright spirits. Even Ryoga, usually silent and almost depressing sometimes, was smiling a lot. Ever since they'd started the "karaoke," not a single fight had broken out and even Shampoo was being generous. It was amazing what a little music could do, although Akane had been reluctant to admit it. If only Ranma were here, too . . .
She shut that thought back away in the back of her subconscious as soon as she noticed it, finishing tying the last knot in the cord that held the tent to the ground. They'd brought three tents with them: one for Ryoga, one for one girl, and one for two girls to share. They all took turns on who got the single tent to themselves and who shared, and tonight Akane was sharing with Ukyo. She was actually a little relieved to be sharing, because she hated lying alone in the tent, staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep at night.
"Well, I guess that's it," Akane said, standing up and brushing off her hands. "How's dinner coming along?"
"Oh, just fine, Akane. Here's yours, sugar; hurry and eat it, before it gets cold." Ukyo flipped the okonomiyaki onto the plate and handed it to Akane. Shampoo, yours is here too, come and get it."
The Amazon complied, looking hungrily at the food on it. "Arigato, spatula-girl!"
Ukyo nodded. "Welcome to it, honey. Ryo-chan, just a moment and this one will be done too." She poured the last of the batter onto her little stove, flipping it until each side was cooked to the right texture. "Here you are, sugar."
Ryoga filed past, accepting the okonomiyaki and offering his thanks, but stopped when he noticed Ukyo starting to pack up her stove again. "Ukyo-san . . ."
Ukyo interrupted, swiftly. "Just Ukyo, Ryo-chan."
Ryoga blinked. "Oh, yeah. Ano, Ukyo . . . aren't you going to make one for yourself?"
Ukyo shook her head, smiling slightly. "Oh, no, I'm not hungry tonight. I . . . had a big lunch."
Ryoga wasn't convinced­ he'd seen the size of Ukyo's midday meal, and it wasn't large enough to even earn the title lunch. But he could very well force her to eat, so he sighed and nodded, "Well, goodnight, then." And he went into his tent.
Ukyo looked after him, saying softly, "Goodnight, Ryoga."
"Uuukyooooo! Come in, quick, before the bugs get in!" Akane's voice carried across the little clearing with no difficulty at all.
Ukyo looked up and grinned. "Hai!" she called back, and hurried into the tent.
Akane was grinning slyly as the okonomiyaki chef entered, and she chuckled smoothly. "Hey, I saw that, Ukyo-chan."
Ukyo blinked, utterly confused. "Hmm? What did I do?"
Akane busied herself by setting up her bedroll. "Oh, the look you had on your face just now."
Ukyo was still completely in the dark. "Mm . . . you're not really talking sense Akane. Maybe you'd better get to sleep--"
"Oh come on, Ukyo!" Akane said, exasperated. "You know what I'm saying!" She paused, seeing the look of incomprehension still on Ukyo's face. "You just got done talking with Ryoouuga, didn't you, hmm?"
Ukyo nodded, cautiously, "Er, yeah . . . I was giving him his dinner."
Akane leaned on her elbows, eyes sparkling. "And you've never looked at yourself in a mirror after talking with him, have you? Your eyes shine a little, like water, and your face gets all soft, and you sigh softly under your breath so no one will hear. But I'm observant," she added smugly, "I see that kind of thing."
Throughout Akane's declaration, Ukyo's face had been getting redder and redder, and she finally exploded, blustering loudly, "What?! What are you talking about? I don't . . . I'm not . . . it's not like that! I love Ranma! Why else would I be on this stupid trip, anyway?"
"Because Ryoga came," came the silken reply.
"B-But," she spluttered, "I was coming before Ryoga showed up, so there!"
Akane grinned, and nodded although she didn't appear too convinced. "Yeah, you're right, Ukyo. Forget I even said anything."
"That's right," Ukyo said firmly, crossing her arms to prove her point.
There was quiet for a while, except for the rustling of cloth as the two girls got into their bedrolls. Then Akane clicked off the flashlight that had been lighting the tent, and it was dark. After a long, sobering silence that was broken only by the nighttime sounds of the forest, Akane said softly, "That singing was fun, Ukyo."
Akane could hear Ukyo make a noncommittal sound, and reply, "Yeah, it was."
"It . . . It was a really good thing you did today, you know. I don't know how much more of that heavy silence we could have taken."
Silence from Ukyo. Akane's eyes were beginning to adjust to the darkness, and she could see Ukyo's face lit by the light of the moon coming through the fabric of their tent.
Akane spoke once more. "You're always so cheerful. You make it possible for us all to not go crazy."
Ukyo, still sitting up, turned her head towards Akane, and smiled. She opened her mouth to speak, and then suddenly burst into tears. Akane blinked, as unprepared for this mood in Ukyo as Ukyo herself was. "S-Sumi masen! I . . . there's nothing to be upset about, Ukyo-chan . . . everything's all right, it's okay, there's nothing to be sad about or ashamed of . . ."
Suddenly Ukyo burst out, unable to stop the flow of tears from her eyes, "But that's just it! It's not all right, and everything isn't okay! Ranma's gone, and is in danger he doesn't know about. What if something happens to him?"
Akane swallowed, trying to not let her own emotions rise. "He can take care of himself­ Ranma Saotome never loses, remember?"
Ukyo pulled her knees in to her chest, hugging them tightly. "I can't do this . . ." she said raggedly, her voice cracking. "I can't do this anymore! I can't, I can't!"
Akane moved closer, laying a hand on Ukyo's arm. "Of course you can! All we have to do is find Ranma, right? He can't be that far ahead of us. It'll turn out right, you'll see."
Ukyo just rocked back and forth, still curled into a ball. "I gave everything for him, Akane. Everything! My childhood, my home, my family, my femininity. I can't lose him now, not after all this! I don't know what I'd do without him; where I'd go, how I'd live. I can't do this anymore without him!"
Akane found herself taking Ukyo into her arms, trying to calm her, although she was nearly in tears as well. "It's okay," she repeated, brushing tear-sodden hair out of Ukyo's face. "We'll find him. You'll have him back soon." They stayed that way for a while, until Ukyo's muscles relaxed, and she sagged against Akane.
"Arigato," came the soft, almost child-like whisper, muffled by Akane's shoulder. "S-Sumi masen . . . I­ I don't know what came over me­"
"Shh," said Akane, releasing Ukyo before it got awkward. "I understand," she added. Then, in a brusque voice, she said, "Now get to sleep, you dumb spatula girl. We're gonna need it tomorrow."
Ukyo nodded and quietly lay down in her bedroll, rolling over onto her side.
Akane waited until it sounded as if Ukyo's breathing had settled into a sleep pattern, before closing her eyes herself.




Ukyo awoke, her head feeling heavy and clogged. Groggily, she opened her eyes to see a large shape looming above her, silhouetted by the sunlight streaming in through the door of the tent. Surprised, Ukyo sat bolt upright, thwacking her head accidentally against the thing above her. She noted that whatever it was, it was rock-hard, and quite painful.
"Ouch!" said the thing mildly, rocking back on its heels. Ukyo got the feeling, however, that the blow hadn't hurt the whatever-it-was as much as it had her. "What was that for?"
Ukyo blinked, putting a hand to her head where she'd hit the thing. She peered through the sunlight, now able to discern the shape of someone's head, with a bandanna sticking up out of the ruffled locks of hair. "R . . . R-Ryoga . . . what--"
Ryoga's face peered back at her, innocently.
Ukyo felt anger and a sense of bruised dignity rise within her. "What are you doing in my tent? Henta--"
Ryoga put a finger to his lips, signaling for quiet. "Wait a sec, will you?" And then he dashed out of the tent flap he was holding open, and blissful darkness descended on Ukyo once more. What . . . What was that? Before she had time to wonder past that, the tent flaps parted once more and Ryoga appeared once more, holding a tray. "Here's breakfast, Ucchan!"
Ukyo raised herself up on her elbows, her mind still clouded by sleep. "Huh?" she said intelligently. "What's this . . ."
Ryoga set the tray down next to Ukyo's bed roll, and repeated patiently. "It's your breakfast, Ucch-" He stopped, coloring slightly. "I mean, Ukyo!"
Ukyo was too tired to notice the use of her nickname. "Why's it . . . why're you . . ." She blinked her eyes again, trying to wake enough to form her slurred speech into proper Japanese.
Akane's face appeared over Ryoga's shoulder, smiling cheerfully. "We all decided that you deserved a break. After all, you've been doing all the cooking by yourself, and not eating any of it. So, we made breakfast for you this morning and let you sleep in a little."
A cold knife of fear shot through Ukyo, cutting through the warm fuddle of sleep, and she sat up abruptly. "Ah . . . Thank you, Akane. Tell me-- did you make all this?" She looked down at the tray, which held a covered dish of rice, a cup of tea, and a plate of eggs. It all looked normal, even appetizing. But you never could tell with Akane's cooking.
Akane shook her head. "No. I offered to, but for some reason Ryoga volunteered to." She shot Ukyo a look, one that brought back memories of the discussion the night before. Of course, since Akane was standing behind Ryoga, Ryoga couldn't see her. But he could see the flush rise on Ukyo's cheeks.
Ukyo looked back down at the tray, noticing the care with which the plates were arranged, and the carefully folded napkin on the side. She even saw a little vase of flowers on the corner of the tray. And although they were just ordinary woodland flowers, Ukyo thought that they were some of the prettiest she'd seen in a long while. "Oh . . . Th-thank you, Ryoga. It's lovely. And thank you, the rest of you, too. I'm really quite okay, none of this was necessary at all."
Ryoga looked slightly embarrassed, saying, "Oh, I used to make these for my mother on her birthday all the time." He reached up and rubbed the back of his head, thoughtfully. "Though I never did see her reaction to them. I usually got lost trying to find her bedroom." Then he felt compelled to add, "The flowers were Akane's idea, though."
Ukyo could almost see a vein pop in anger on Akane's forehead. Obviously she had meant for Ukyo to think Ryoga had gotten them himself. What is she up to? Ukyo wondered, as she picked up the chopsticks near the plate and put the napkin in her lap. She can't be trying to-- no, she wouldn't! She's trying to set me up with . . . with . . . with Ryoga? Ukyo had to try not to laugh as she thought about it. Obviously Akane wanted her out of the way as competition for Ranma. But why Ryoga? Certainly Akane must see that they fought a lot, and they each tended to say the wrong things to each other at the wrong time. But . . . But Ranma and Akane fight a lot . . . Ukyo quickly stifled that though, and then smiled up at Ryoga. "Well, it's perfect." She took a bite of the eggs. "It's good! Where'd you learn to cook?"
Ryoga shrugged. "I don't know; I must've picked it up somewhere. I have to cook for myself all the time when I'm traveling."
Ukyo laughed, before taking another bite.




On the road again, Akane thought that the breakfast had done just the right thing for Ukyo. When Akane would glance backwards, Ukyo would be either smiling or at least not looking so pensive and depressed as she had the previous days. They had gotten into a certain habit of walking: Akane would always be in the front, followed by Ryoga. Ukyo came next, and Shampoo brought up the rear. Usually, though, they tended to clump together, especially when someone suggested a song to sing.
Akane sighed, remembering that although the breakfast had succeeded in the overt reasons for it, the secret reason for it had failed miserably. She'd intended for it to bring the two together. But then Ryoga had to let it slip that it was all Akane's idea and, though he had arranged the plates, it was Akane who'd picked the flowers. She shook her head, smiling ruefully. Perhaps I'm just not cut out for playing matchmaker. Oh, but it'd just be so perfect if they got together! I can't give up now, not this close. And although she wouldn't admit it, this distraction gave her something to think about other than Ranma's disappearance.




Ukyo walked along behind Ryoga, watching his feet go one in front of the other and thinking. I couldn't possibly . . . not with Ryoga. I love Ranchan, and Ryoga's in love with Akane! It'd never work anyway, even if we didn't already have someone.
But, came a tiny wisp of thought from the back of her mind, Ryoga's in love with Akane, and if Ranma picks someone her, we'll both be single . . .
No! Ukyo thought suddenly. Ranma won't pick anyone other than me! Not after I've come all this way to find him!
"Shampoo think it time for 'nother song!" The voice startled Ukyo out of her contemplations, but then she nodded mechanically.
"Sounds good. How about 'American Pie'? It's English, but the chorus at least is easy."
Ryoga nodded enthusiastically. "I love that song! It's so sad at the end." He cleared his throat, nodded his head, and everyone started on cue.


"A long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile . . ."


After three verses and the second round of choruses, Ukyo was almost too busy singing to notice the rustle of movement in the bushes beside her. But something told her to look to the side, and when she did so, she saw a flash of red that brought her heart into her throat. Ranma! Oh, it's him, it's Ranma! I have to get to him first! She quickened her pace slightly, until she'd caught up with Ryoga.
Ryoga was lost in song until he noticed a touch at his arm. His voice faltered, and he looked down to see Ukyo signaling him to keep singing. So he did, giving her a curious look. She leaned upwards, and Ryoga noticed she was very, very close to him. He could feel the back of his neck heating up, and his heartbeat sped up like a butterfly on a sugar high. She leaned up further, her face drawing close to his. Her lips parted, and she--
"I think I've seen something," she whispered. "Keep Akane busy."
Ryoga attempted to calm down, realizing that he had turned the simple act of Ukyo whispering to him into something much, much more. He nodded, continuing to sing so that the others wouldn't know something was up. That was all he could do, in his nervous state.
Ukyo smiled at him, making the blood roar past his ears that much harder. "Thanks, hon. You're a treasure." And then she had dashed off the path, into the undergrowth.
Ryoga stared after her, an unusual feeling in his chest making him want to dash off after her and bring her back. Be careful, Ucchan. It might be a trap. Be careful . . . I don't think I could handle having you hurt right now.




Ukyo slowed, looking around. She'd emerged into a clearing, on an especially steep part of the mountain. When she'd gotten far enough away from the group, she'd begun calling out Ranma's name. She'd seen two more brief flashes of a red Chinese shirt since the first one, and once even though she'd heard his laughter echoing back to her. She smiled, waiting for her next clue-- ah, there it was! Another splotch of red. As soon as she registered it, however, she frowned. It was there, yes, but it had disappeared right into a stone rock face. She advanced to the wall, running her hands over it. There; what was that? She felt at the rock again, noticing a crack in the wall. The slipped her fingers in and pulled-- the rock swung easily, enough for a person to slip through. She grinned, sliding through it. Can't fool me that easily, Ranchan!
Just in case he was within hearing distance, she called out tentatively, "Ranchan?" Her voice echoed down the long corridor she had seen in the brief light before the door closed again. She wished she'd brought a lantern or flashlight with her, and felt in her pack. She came up only with a pack of matches, and lit one. There it was, stretching out ahead of her: a long, uneven corridor that continued around a bend so she couldn't see the end of it. She continued walking, dropping the match when she felt the heat on her fingers.
About five minutes later, she ran out of matches. She stood in the dark, thinking rapidly. So far there was no turns in the passage, just a straight corridor. She could go on just by feel, and then feel her way back out if she had to. Yes, that's what I'll do. She continued on, the darkness closing in on her like a vice. She'd never been afraid of the dark, but something about this darkness made the hairs on her arm prickle. How far did this thing go into the mountain? She didn't know how long she'd been walking when she spotted a faint light ahead. She sped up her walking, hoping she either came into daylight or found Ranchan, who should have a lantern. "Ranma?" she called, hopefully. "Are you there?"
There was silence for a moment, before she heard something. "U-Ucchan?" came the reply. It was faint and quavery, but it was Ranchan's voice, alright! She began to run; she couldn't help it, her feet began moving of their own accord. She repeatedly banged her knees and elbows on the rock walls, and nearly twisted her ankle twice, but she didn't feel the pain.
She came into a larger cavern, big enough to fit about six people standing across. Her eyes immediately found the source of the light, a small lantern with the wick almost burned out that had been knocked over, as if it had been dropped and then rolled into the center of the room. In its pathetic, flickering light Ukyo saw some liquid staining the stone black. Water? Ukyo wondered, hurrying forwards. She realized that she was really very thirsty, and this was a welcome interruption. She reached it and knelt down, feeling at it with her fingertips. When she looked at her hands, they were stained red. She scrambled back, a little shriek tearing from her lips. She couldn't help it. Blood . . . Blood . . . I hate blood . . .
"Ucchan . . ." There was that faint call again, Ranma's voice. Ukyo snatched up the dying lantern and flashed it around the room. At first she saw nothing that could have generated the call, until she saw a small, almost pitiful looking bundle resting on a small outcropping. Above it was a sort of shaft where it could have fallen from. And it was from that bundle that the red stain was seeping across the floor. It lifted its head, looking straight at her. "Ucchan . . . Ucchan, you have to help me . . ."
A growing sense of horror was passing through Ukyo, as she realized what the "bundle" was. She scrambled as close as she could, the steep walls preventing her from completely reaching the out-cropping. She held the lantern close, and the very next minutes, she wished she hadn't. It was Ranma, lying on his back, a steady stream of dark blood trickling down the rock. One of his arms was hanging at an unnatural angle, twisting backwards just below the elbow, and Ukyo couldn't see the other one. There was a slight trickle of blood coming from the corner of his mouth, but otherwise his face was still the old face, as handsome as ever. He looked pale, though-- paler than Ukyo had ever seen him, and his eyes were getting duller and duller with every passing minutes. Damn! If only I could reach him . . . he's so close . . . oh god, he's dying . . . She cleared her throat, trying not to let the panic she felt creep into it. "Ah, so here you are, Ranchan. That was really mean of you to go off alone without bringing me with you, you know."
"Ukyo--" he started to reply, and then started coughing, crimson spurting from his mouth to the stones. Ukyo felt a few hot drops land on her cheek, and forced herself not to recoil and brush them away. She had to remain calm, for Ranma. When his coughing fit was through, Ranma tried again. "Ukyo, please . . . help me . . . oh, god, it hurts . . ."
Ukyo felt tears threaten, and pushed them back down forcefully. Ranma never admitted pain, not ever. "It's gonna be fine, Ranma, don't you worry. I'm here now, everything's going to be okay." She looked again for a way up, slightly confused. A broken arm didn't mean someone was dying; why was this hurting Ranma so much? She looked up, straight up, and noticed a long shaft that Ranma might have fallen down. But it couldn't be natural, so someone had to have put that there. Like a trap. And pitfall traps usually had-- she swallowed, and forced herself to look back at Ranma. What she saw, when she was looking for it, made her go nearly as pale as Ranma, and made her want to break down and run away. It was a small spike, only large enough to just impale a human body. The red stain leaking across the floor was coming from the place where Ukyo could see, just barely, a small point emerging from Ranma's chest. And his lungs were filling up with blood, which was the reason for his coughing.
Ukyo couldn't help it; she suddenly started crying, her efforts to reach him growing frantic and unthinking. "Ranma! Ranma, hold on, wait for just a little longer!"
"'m so tired . . ." was the faint reply.
"Don't go to sleep!" Ukyo shouted, nearly trying to destroy the wall in her frustration. "Don't go to sleep, stay awake, fight!"
Ranma smiled, crookedly. "Ranma never loses . . . don't be silly." He started coughing, and then said between spasms, "Ucchan . . . I never got . . . to tell you . . ."
Tears were pouring from Ukyo's eyes. "Stop! Don't say anything, just stay quiet."
"Never . . . got to . . . tell you . . ." And his head fell to the side, and he lay still.
Ukyo froze, staring at him. Then she somehow found a foothold, and heaved herself up to the overhang. "Ranma! Ranma, come back to me!" She froze, unable to make herself touch him. She tentatively reached down, watching the light fade from his wide, staring eyes. She touched his cheek, curving her hand around it, and-- his body dissolved into air. She jumped back, stifling a shout, staring at the empty rock in front of her. The red staining the floor went away too, turning into a mere trickle of water from a spring. She turned her hand towards her, looking at it, and the red blood on her fingers dissipated as well.
"What . . . What the hell?" Had it all been just her imagination? No, but she'd seen him, heard his voice, felt the spray of blood on her cheek . . . She shakily slid back down the rock face, landing on the ground and collapsing to her knees, trembling slightly. It had felt so real . . . was it some sort of illusion? A . . . A premonition? She swallowed, and the tiny sound echoing around the small cavern and coming back to her ears like a siren. Then she stood up, swaying slightly before she found her balance again. She began to walk, following the corridor onwards, not looking back. Her throat was burning with thirst, but she didn't even think to drink the water trickling down from the spring on the rock ledge.
As she walked, memories of her and Ranma began to pass across her vision, becoming so real she could touch them. At first they were happy; making him lunch, him asking her advice, them going to the hot springs together. But they soon grew less and less appealing, and Ukyo found herself becoming ashamed. Memories of how she'd misunderstood him when she'd first come to Nerima. Memories of how many times she'd hit him, or beaten up on him, and now she might lose him forever. Memories of arguments with his other fiances, where he had almost become a simple object to possess and show off. She felt rotten inside, and wanted to somehow punish herself for treating him like a prize to be won.
So deep in thought was she that she almost didn't see the faint light approaching behind her. When it was too bright to be ignored however, she spun, to see a ghostly form illuminating the hall.
"Ucchan . . ." it whispered, in a thousand voices melded into one. "You failed me . . ." The form solidified, into Ranchan's body, still holding the scene of his gruesome "death" just moments before. "You never loved me; it was all just a game to you."
Ukyo backed up a few steps, felt behind her for the rock, and then turned and ran blindly, not caring if she fell down some pitfall and broke her neck. From behind her floated the parting whisper: "You're too ashamed to face me . . ."
She rounded a corner, to find a horrifying scene in front of her. It was Ranma, whole and intact, lounging on a lush divan. All around him were women, all young and beautiful, and all wearing next to nothing. Ranma smirked, as one of the women twined her fingers in his hair. "Just give up, Ukyo," he said, in a lazy voice. There's no point in you going any further."
Ukyo closed her eyes and then opened them again, forcing herself to speak in a level tone. "Why, Ranma? Why do you tell me to give up?"
Ranma looked almost surprised, or would have if his expression wasn't so smugly self-satisfied. "Why? Because I'm so much happier here than I ever was at home. My girls here have made me happier in a few days than you ever did in a lifetime, Ukyo. Give up and go home. I'm sure you'll find someone else's life to screw with."
Ukyo stared, not wanting to believe her ears. "But . . . but I love you, Ranma! These girls, they're just . . . they're not . . ."
Ranma laughed, a sound with no amusement in it. "Oh, really? And what is love, anyway? It's just lust, when you get right down to it, and my lovelies here give that to me in abundance."
Ukyo shut her eyes tightly, shaking her head. "No! You have to love me, you have to remember!"
"Remember what? Remember when I was chased around by half-grown little girls, all too scared to actually do anything?"
"No! No, no, no! That's all wrong, you've got it all wrong!" She lashed out, striking the nearest woman. Her hand went right through, and suddenly the whole scene disappeared, leaving Ukyo standing alone in a small, dark cavern, shaking with reaction. "No . . . No . . . he had it all wrong, Ranma had it all wrong . . ." Her eyes were wide as she whispered to herself, listening to the eerie sound it made in the echoes. Directly in front of her there suddenly appeared a disembodied head, the lips pulled back in a grotesque mask of death, the features just recognizable as Ranma's. It was the face of a corpse long dead, and Ukyo gagged as the stench suddenly overrode all else. Another one appeared, this one sneering at her, taunting her and telling her how much he hated her. Soon there were too many to count, each of them calling for help or smirking at her or even just ignoring her. Ukyo suddenly pulled her spatula out, swinging it around and smashing through the ghostly images, dissolving them like smoke.
"NO!" she yelled, swinging at empty air until the spatula slid from her sweaty palms, flying across the room into the shadows where it clattered to the floor, a dead, tinny sound. "No! No . . ." She sagged, sinking to the floor, where she huddled, covering her ears against the wails and taunt and cries for mercy echoing through the corridors, all in Ranma's voice. "God, leave me alone, let me be! Oh god, let it stop . . ."
She didn't know how long she stayed there, and didn't care. Eventually, she realized dimly, as if from a long way off, that she was walking forwards towards a point of light. She eventually emerged into daylight, the sharp sunlight piercing her eyes. She didn't notice, though, didn't flinch. Because in front of her, arms crossed, stood Ranma.
Ukyo took a few steps towards him, staggering slightly. "Ranma--" she croaked, her hoarse voice cracking with strain. Then suddenly, with a flurry of action, she rushed forward, hitting him as hard as she could in the stomach. She froze, staying that way. He hadn't disappeared, hadn't dissolved like the other visions. His body was as solid as anyone else's, and she could feel his heart beating through his red Chinese-style shirt. The wind picked up, playfully stirring their hair, and Ukyo suddenly felt his hands on her shoulders.
"Ucchan . . ." he said gently, his voice like angels' singing in Ukyo's ears. "What are you doing here?"
Ukyo suddenly sagged against him, tears flowing freely. "I came to find you, Ranma! Thank god I did, we have to get down, leave . . . I love you, oh please, don't leave me here alone! We have to get away, leave, come on, let's go, please don't leave me . . ."
His hand pressed against her lips, stopping her hysteric babble and pleas for help. "We're perfectly safe. I am, anyway."
Ukyo paused, blinking. "You are? Why?"
Ranma spread a hand expansively, taking a few steps away from Ukyo. "Because I am the master of this place."
Ukyo staggered without Ranma's support. "You . . . you are? But, that means that you gave me those horrible visions . . . why . . ."
Ranma smiled, a smile that sent chills up and down Ukyo's spine. She'd never seen a smile like that on Ranchan's face before. "Yes, they were rather good, weren't they? The last bitch that came up here went crazy after just one, and killed herself by hitting her head against a wall. I'm rather impressed, you know. You've got spunk."
Ukyo's heart contracted painfully, as she heard Ranma's words. She couldn't answer him because of her shock, only stare at him with her mouth hanging open.
Ranma eyed her thoughtfully. "Yes, and you lost that awful spatula, that's good. I think I might keep you for a while, before I kill you." He strode towards her, seizing her wrist in a painful grasp.
Ukyo struggled, in vain, fear smothering every sense she had as she tried to get away. "R-Ranma!" she choked out, managing to speak. "What are you doing? Let me go! This isn't funny! Let me go!" And she kicked at his shins, not even causing him to blink.
He leered down at her, looking into her frightened eyes, and again smiled that cold smile. "Yes, I think I will keep you a while. You'll struggle­ I like my women to resist." He leaned forward, crushing his mouth against hers, holding her head by her hair. Ukyo began to scream, knowing that there was no one around who could possibly hear her. She was on her own.
"Ranma, stop, please! You're hurting me!"
He grinned, his hands gripping her upper arms and pinning her against him. "Good. Pain can be just as exquisite as love, you know." And he traced one hand down her arm, and then back up again, under her short sleeve. Then, with a jerk, he ripped the cloth, tearing it evenly across the front, causing a tatters of Ukyo's shirt. She cried out again, as he threw against the ground, knowing what was coming, and unable to do anything. Then, so faint that she thought she might be imagining it, she thought she heard an answering yell.
"Help me! Oh god, somebody, anyone! Help me--" Her voice was cut off by Ranma's mouth once more, and she struggled again in vain. There; there it was again. It was soft, but it was obvious whoever was shouting back was roaring at the top of his lungs, anger in his voice. "Ucchan!"
"Please, somebody help me . . ." She broke down, sobbing, too exhausted to fight any more. The far-off shouting came again, and Ranma looked up, cursing.
He looked back down at her, disgustedly. "So you brought your little pet along with you, huh? Gonna go crying back to your pig-boy, aren't you? Back in Nerima, all I ever wanted out of you was this; and now you're not going to give it to me. You're my woman! This is what you're for!" He stood, the pressure of his weight on her easing. "Well, go on and cry to him, vixen. But remember; when you least expect it, I'll be there. I'll take what's mine, if I kill you while doing it." And he disappeared, into some out-cropping of rock. But Ukyo was too busy sobbing to see, her body too tired to notice that he was no longer near her.




Ryoga ran harder, faster than he ever had in his life, calling out Ukyo's name. "UCCHAN! Ucchan, I'm coming! Hold on!" He followed the sound of her voice, and broke out of the forest into a sunny clearing near a particularly steep slope of rock. In the center, directly in front of him, was a small huddle of black clothing and soft brown hair blowing in the breeze, with no sign of the danger. Ryoga's heart thumped painfully, and he advanced on the pitiful bundle slowly. He reached out a hand, placing it gently on Ukyo's shoulder, to turn her and check for injuries, and she suddenly spun around, clawing at him with her nails and shouting at the top of her lungs. He jumped back, shocked to see her disheveled hair, torn clothing, and wild eyes.
"U-Ukyo . . . It's me, Ryoga . . ."
She gave no sign that she heard him at all, still staring at him with those wide, intense, and strangely vacant eyes. Ryoga noticed that large, vaguely hand-shaped bruises were beginning to form all over her body, or at least on the parts of her that he could see. He tried coming towards her again, gritting his teeth and hardening his resolve against her hysterics. She fought him, screaming and crying alternately, but eventually she collapsed against his shoulder in a faint, her body limp and unnaturally light in his arms. He picked her up, gently, and carried her back the way he had came, praying that he'd find the camp now, when it mattered. Ukyo . . .




"Is . . . is she okay?" Akane's eyes were wide, and she stared at Ukyo's prone body as if it were a deadly poisonous snake.
Ryoga didn't even blink. "I don't know. I heard her screaming, and then found her huddled in a clearing. I tried to talk to her, but she starting fighting me, and I just had to wait until she exhausted herself before I carried her back here."
Akane took a step forward and kneeled down, examining Ukyo's bruises. "Her . . . her clothes, they're torn all over her." She looked up at Ryoga, and her eyes were filled with horror. "Someone . . . Someone tried to . . ."
Ryoga swallowed. "I don't think they did. I think whoever it was ran away when they heard me, because--" he closed his eyes. "Because there was no blood. I think he just scared her, and got too close for comfort."
Akane nodded. Shampoo was standing behind them, silent. They'd erected a hasty tent when they saw Ryoga carrying a limp body, and Ukyo was now lying on a rough pallet. Akane sighed, and got to her feet. "I think that right now, the best thing for her is simply rest. We'll stop here for a while." She left the tent, followed by Shampoo. Ryoga looked back at Ukyo for a moment, before leaving the tent as well.




Dinner was quiet; no one wanted to say anything, so no one tried. There was no okonomiyaki for dinner, and no "karaoke" afterwards to cheer everyone up. After a long time, they heard movement from the tent. They watched Ukyo emerge, sway slightly, and then walk off into the forest without even looking in their direction. Ryoga stood before anyone else could react and hurried after her, motioning for everyone else to stay put. Akane stared after him, unable to do anything else.
Ryoga followed the signs of Ukyo's passage, the broken twigs and trampled undergrowth. He soon found her; she was sitting against a tree, singing softly and fiddling with something on the ground. As he neared, he noticed that she was not singing the way she usually did, strong, rich, and full of song. She was singing softly, in small sections, an off-key, slowed-down version of a song he knew. It was like listening to a dying tape player, with batteries that were almost gone.


"Yappappa . . . yappappa . . . ii-shan-ten . . .
hashagu . . . koi wa . . . ike no koi.
Yappappa . . . yappappa . . . ii-shan-ten
mune no tai wa . . . dakare-tai . . ."


It was a song Ryoga hadn't heard in a long time, not for months and months. But he'd recognize it anywhere, mixed with anything, sung on any pitch. It had been played a lot during his early weeks in Nerima, when things were uncomplicated and normal. He'd always associated it with his and the others' early lives when they'd all gotten tossed into one city and expected not to destroy it too much. Ryoga swallowed, hating the sound of Ukyo's faint singing, and stepped forward. "U . . . Ucchan . . ."
Ukyo looked up, a smile tracing her lips, and patted the ground next to her. "Welcome to Ucchan's, Ranma-honey. What can I get for you today?
Ryoga blinked, and shook his head. "No, Ukyo. I'm not Ranma. I'm Ryog­"
"Alright, one special coming up." And she began to sing again, as she stirred the dirt around with a stick.
Since he couldn't think of anything else to do, he sat down near Ukyo, watching as she tried to flip the little mound of dirt with her stick. Eventually she pushed the dirt over to him, saying with a bright smile, "Here you are, sugar, eat it up!"
Ryoga looked down at it. She'd put little pebbles in it, like toppings. "Ucchan . . . I'm Ryoga, not Ranma. I'm not Ranma. We haven't found him yet."
Ukyo leaned her head on her elbow, smiling slightly. "Yes, I'd imagine she'd be a pain sometimes. She's such a tomboy, isn't she?"
Frustrated, Ryoga hung his head, closing his eyes tightly. "Ucchan . . . Ucchan, why won't you listen to me?
Ukyo shook her head, with a sigh. "I know. Have another okonomiyaki, Ranchan?"
Ryoga swallowed, and nodded, gazing at her with sad eyes. "Yes. Yes, I'd like another okonomiyaki, Ucchan." He reached out and gently took her hand, rising to his feet and pulling her with him, meeting no resistance. He began to lead her back the way he came, not noticing that for once, he wasn't wandering off in another direction.
"Where are we going, Ranma-honey?" she asked.
"I don't know. Camp," he said, noting as he looked back that her beautiful, expressive eyes were flat and dull, glazed and unseeing.
"That sounds lovely, Ranchan," she said, linking her arm in his. "It sounds like a good date, to me."
Ryoga held her arm tightly, fighting emotions back. "Yes. It does, doesn't it?"
"I think we should do this more often."
"Perhaps."
"Forget about Akane for a while, Ranchan. She's annoying, and just makes you angry."
"I know. I don't think about her any more."
"And Shampoo's too weird and aggressive for someone like you."
Ryoga glanced at Ukyo, his eyes lingering on the bruises on her pretty, smiling face. "I never did think of her."
"And that leaves just me."
"Yes."
"I love you, Ranchan."
"I-- I think I love you too, Ukyo."
Ukyo rested her head on Ryoga's arm, and he continued to lead her back to camp, catching her when she stumbled unknowingly.
Akane watched from the cover of the forest and withdrew when she saw them coming. Ukyo . . . I think we might have lost you . . .




The Eye of the Beholder, by Tori-chan: email me at saezuru@hotmail.com