THE STAGE AT KIYOMIZU-DERA

DISCLAIMER:

I do not own Ranma 1/2 or any of the related characters. The Ranma 1/2 series was created by Rumiko Takahashi and is owned by Shogakukan and Viz Video. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story. All rights to the original Ranma 1/2 story belong to Rumiko Takahashi.

AUTHOR NOTES:

"To jump off the stage at Kiyomizu" is an old Japanese proverb loosely translated as the equivalent of the English saying "to take the plunge."

Kiyomizu-dera, an UNESCO World Heritage Site and one of the most important ancient Buddhist temples in Japan, was founded originally at the site of a waterfall in the foothills of Mt. Otowa in Kyoto in the late 8th Century. "Kiyomizu" translates as "pure water." The flow of that water within the sanctuary of the temple is divided into 3 streams corresponding respectively to the fulfillment of 1 of 3 wishes: longevity; success in studies; and good fortune in love. Visitors can drink from any or all of these streams, but doing so is considered greedy.

The most iconic structure at the current site is the stage, a mountainside platform constructed in 1633, overlooking a cliff on the mountainside. During the Edo Era, a superstition arose that one could make their wishes come true by jumping off the stage. Records indicate that at least 234 individuals made the jump between 1694 and 1864 before the practice was outlawed.

Still, the stage at Kiyomizu remains a popular reference to a do-or-die resolve to act.

Feedback and comments are always appreciated.

Thank you for reading.

– KL

PROLOGUE

There's probably a special place in Hell for someone like me. I don't care anymore. Meet me at sunset on the Stage at Kiyomizu-dera.

The text message flashed over and over in his mind's eye, driving him faster and faster up the final West end steps leading to the Main Hall. He was taking them in twos, threes, and then fours before giving up and launching himself off the rail into the air and over the top. Now the pounding of his own heart and the rush of his own blood were giving off a deafening roar in his ears as he darted around and between the ancient columns and raced out onto the Stage.

She was standing by the Eastside rail. Her silhouette was outlined by the pink and golden hues of the late Autumn sun hanging on just above the horizon. The thick edges and bangs of her smart Italian bob danced alluringly in the breeze, accentuating the flawless porcelain complexion of her delicate heart-shaped face and the fiery, soul-piercing luminescence of her bold, brown eyes. The surprising plainness of her clothes – a peach creme cardigan, dark indigo jeans, and white canvas sneakers – somehow made her seem even more desirable and alluring.

He had seen "cute" many times before, but this was different.

She was beautiful. He wanted her.

"Ranma," she acknowledged with a tender, heartfelt smile.

An intense, highly charged silence fell between them as he came to a stop in front of her. Then the world exploded feverishly without warning in a fiery blaze of heat and light as he cupped her beautiful face between his hands, greedily crushed his lips against hers, and voraciously drank from the deliciously wet strawberry sweetness of her tongue.

She was so soft and warm – so alive – as she reciprocated by wrapping her arms around him and pushed back with all of her weight. "Hold me," he heard her whisper as he felt the damp warmth of her silent tears in his hands….

…. And the dead weight of a furry arm across his chest as the walls of the guest room were rattled by the thunder of a snoring panda….

Ranma bolted up in his futon in a cold sweat as the implications of the dream came crashing down on him, threatening to bury him alive.

"Oh f-#k…."