Chapter 3
The Sleeper Awakens
Kuno rushed forwards as Ranma fell. He knelt beside him, looking at Akane. He had never seen anything like what had just happened, and he wanted to know just exactly what that was. He gently touched her shoulder and she looked up. He saw the tears she shed over this degenerate, insane boy and he felt something inside of him cringe.
"Go back into the school and tell them that Ranma has fallen ill," he said kindly. "I'll have Sansuke bring the car around and I'll take all three of you to your home."
She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and gratitude on her face. In her eyes, tears remained unshed, but the old determination that made her so attractive and desirable returned.
"Thank you," she said simply before she jumped up and ran towards the school.
He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial for Sansuke. He told the little ninja what he told Akane to tell the school officials and told him to bring the car around immediately. He hung up and looked back at Ranma to find Happosai standing over him. The old man looked old indeed, in that instant, and Kuno wondered how he knew to show up like he did. There was much about what was going on that Kuno didn't know, but he was sure as hell going to find out.
He was going to start by asking the little old man some questions, but Akane came running out of the school and he heard Sansuke pull up behind him. Damn, he thought. He guess the time for questions and answers would come later.
He helped the little ninja place Ranma gently into the back seat of the car and he sat on one side of him while Akane sat cradling his head in her lap. Happosai joined Sansuke in the front seat and kept looking back at Ranma with concern and confusion plainly etched into the wrinkles of his face.
*****
Ranma walked down a long corridor. He had never seen the corridor before, but that didn't mean anything. He's seen a lot of strange things in his dreams, and this one didn't seem any different. At the end of the hallway was a door. It was an ordinary door, cheaply made and well worn, with a red metal sign on it. The sign was rectangular and depicted a bat, it also had some writing on it, but since it was in English, Ranma couldn't read it.
Having nothing else to do, he opened the door and stepped into the room. He entered a fairly large bedroom that was as cluttered as a seldom entered storage room. There were two beds, one on each wall near the windows and a large chair sitting in front of a sealed fireplace. The chair had two tables flanking it with a lamp on each table and an ashtray on the chair's right side. There was an entertainment center from which blared a music unlike any Ranma had heard. It had sharp beats and a lot of bass, accompanied by the rhythmic shouting of the lyrics, which were in English. He thought it strange that his dream had so much English in it when he could barely say anything in it, let alone read it or understand it.
Standing by the bed farthest from the door was the stranger who had chased him in his earlier dream. He was tall, standing a little over six feet, with broad, stooped shoulders. His hair was bleached blond and shaved along the sides and back, leaving only the patch on the top, which came almost to his shoulders. He wore a black t-shirt of some band, Ranma suspected it was the band who's "music" was currently blaring, and baggy black jeans.
He turned when Ranma opened the door and looked at his guest. He had deep brown eyes and a long goatee that had blonde, red, brown and gray in it naturally. He wore glasses and didn't seem to like to smile too much. On his right forearm was a tattoo of an odd blue-skinned creature holding a flame. He waved a hand and the entertainment center and the volume of the music went down considerably. It was strange because the man didn't have a remote in his hand.
"Sorry about the music," he said in English, "but it's the only way I can stay calm under these circumstances." It didn't surprise Ranma that he could understand the stranger. This was a dream, after all. Ranma just stared at him, not knowing what to say or do.
"Would you like to have seat?" The man waved a hand at one of the beds and sat down in the chair. It looked like a very comfortable chair. He reached into a pocket and extracted a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and exhaled a long streamer of smoke. "Or you could just stand there like an idiot. It matters not. I brought you here so we could talk and come to an understanding, not to make you comfortable."
"What do ya mean, `brought'?" This was an odd dream indeed.
"I first feel I should apologize for what happened earlier today. It was my fault you felt like killing everyone during breakfast, and it was my fault you tried to kill Kuno. But that English test score was bullshit, though, and I will not apologize for your ineptitude."
Ranma had never had a dream like this before. It seemed at the same time real and surreal. He must have been sick or something and was having one of those fever dreams. But this dream man insulting him was pushing it. It was still his dream and he would not be insulted in it.
"Look, pal," he said, in Japanese which it didn't surprise him to know that the stranger understood him. "I don't know how you know about that stuff earlier, but you had best shut up about me being inept at anything."
The man's eyes, which had been fairly apathetic before, now went dead cold. He raised the hand not holding a cigarette and clenched his fist. Ranma felt as if the very air around him had turned solid and was crushing him. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. He started to panic.
"Do not try to order me around in my house, boy," the stranger said calmly. "In here, I have the power of a god, and I'll not suffer your insolence one little bit. I hate this shit, and if I find the bastard who put me here, I will kill him. Slowly. Now, do you suppose we could forgo all the posturing and insults and have a civilized conversation? Hmm?"
Ranma nodded his head vigorously. He had started to come to the realization that this wasn't a normal dream at all. He didn't know what it was, but it was no normal dream. The air let him go and he fell to his knees, coughing. He stood up shakily, glared at his "host" and sat down on one of the beds.
"There, now that's better." His host had seemed to be back to the way he was when Ranma entered. He had no idea if that was normal or not, but he didn't think it mattered. "Those irrational episodes of rage you felt earlier were my fault, I'm afraid. I was just starting to wake up and my anger got away from me. I wasn't awake enough to control it. I have very violent impulses, you see, but my self control allows me to sublimate them and no harm comes to anyone. You, unfortunately, do not seem to possess the same self-control."
Ranma bristled at the unintentional insult and the man snapped a glare over him that made Ranma swallow his pique and continue to sit and listen.
"I'm not from anywhere near here, and of all the things I could want, this is one of the things I want the least. I do not like you, Ranma Saotome. I do not like you, or Genma, or Soun, or Akane, or Kuno, or Ryoga, or Kodachi or Ukyou, or Shampoo, or Happosai, or Cologne, or Mousse, or even Sansuke, for that matter. Nabiki, I have some respect for, though. She's manipulative and pretty ruthless. I admire those qualities, and I can't think of anyone who doesn't like Kasumi. She's sweet and kind-hearted and nice to a fault. Unfortunately, she's a victim waiting to happen.
"Please stop thinking of this as a dream. I assure you, it is not, although you can only come into my home when you are asleep. Containing the combined power of my anger and yours earlier today took it's toll on you. You aren't built to house that much hate. Ah, but I'm a bad host. Would you like something to drink?" He seemed to jump from subject to subject randomly, but there was an awful intelligence behind his eyes. He opened the door to a mini-fridge that was under the right hand table and extracted a bottle of soda. "I have water, if you prefer something not carbonated."
Ranma politely refused his offer and the man shrugged. "Each to his own," he said. He opened the soda and drank deep of it. This was going beyond anything Ranma ever wanted to experience. He supposed this must be like when you go insane. He heaved a forlorn sigh and tried to resign himself to his fate at a mental institute.
"Your not going insane," the stranger said. "You are as sane as you ever were, whereas I am not quite sane and never will be, but that's neither here nor there. Listen well, because I'm only going to say this once. Your family and friends are going to want an explanation for what happened earlier and I'm going to give you the only one I have. Are you willing to listen?" Ranma nodded. He really had no choice.
"Good. Now as far as I can tell, I've been put inside of your head. I'm not from his world, or any world near this one. No, I'm not some ancient spirit or alien from Planet X or anything like that. I'm as human as you, just from a different Earth is all. Something or someone decided to get rid of me for some reason and they felt this was suitable punishment. I swear I'll kill whoever did this to me. The gods will have to have mercy on the sonuvabitch because I sure as hell won't." Ranma could feel him getting angry. The hate came off of him in waves that made Ranma's stomach turn. "I really shouldn't get myself worked up like this," he said and the anger disappeared instantly. "I can do nothing about it until I get back. I guess you could say that you're possessed. It's accurate enough, but I wouldn't recommend trying to have me exorcised. It wouldn't be pleasant for anyone involved." He sighed, took his glasses off and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Gods, I just want to go home. I hate it here, and that hate seems to grow by the minute. But I've been sent here for a reason, so I guess I gotta play my part in this upcoming drama. I just wish I knew what it was, and who was writing it." He sat back and waved his hand at the stereo again and the music started blaring again, louder than before.
It seemed the more Ranma was around the stranger, the more he understood English because he could now understand the singer of the song. It was not a happy song. It was about a guy who had killed his little brother and then dug up his body from the graveyard to try to bring him back to life. He shuddered at the implied message of the song. He looked at the stranger and saw that he was silently singing along with the song. How could he stand to listen to this stuff, let alone sing along with it?
The stranger's head snapped up and he snapped his fingers. All sound in the room ceased, even sounds that Ranma wasn't aware of went silent. He looked at Ranma and Ranma saw he was genuinely sorry for inflicting his favored form of entertainment on his guest. He grinned apologetically and shrugged.
"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, "not many people in America like this group and it takes a certain mindset to really enjoy it. Again, I apologize. Like I said, it's the only way I can stay calm right now.
"I imagine that the others have gathered in the Tendo's dining room and are discussing what happened and various whacked out theories on what caused it. Happosai might have sensed a little of me during the fight. I think I spoke to him, I'm not sure. I guess I should let you get back so that we can get on with the question and answer portion of tonight's festivities. Now that I'm fully awake, I'll be able to speak directly into your mind, and when the need arrives, I can take control of you. Please note, it's when I think the need is sufficient. Or when I feel like it. I'm a pretty fickle man, I've been told."
He stood and waved his hand at the door. It swung silently open and the corridor outside it beckoned. Ranma stood and started towards the door when the stranger stopped him. Ranma turned and saw the man standing behind him with his hand outstretched in greeting.
"I'm called Daniel," he said. Ranma looked at the proffered hand and then looked back at Daniel. He took the hand and shook it.
"Ranma," he said, slightly sullenly. He didn't like this, not at all.
Together, they went out the door and it swung shut behind them. They started down the hallway side by side. The younger man with his head down and his hands in his pockets, the older one with his head high and an enigmatic grin on his face.
The Sleeper Awakens
Kuno rushed forwards as Ranma fell. He knelt beside him, looking at Akane. He had never seen anything like what had just happened, and he wanted to know just exactly what that was. He gently touched her shoulder and she looked up. He saw the tears she shed over this degenerate, insane boy and he felt something inside of him cringe.
"Go back into the school and tell them that Ranma has fallen ill," he said kindly. "I'll have Sansuke bring the car around and I'll take all three of you to your home."
She looked at him with a mixture of confusion and gratitude on her face. In her eyes, tears remained unshed, but the old determination that made her so attractive and desirable returned.
"Thank you," she said simply before she jumped up and ran towards the school.
He pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial for Sansuke. He told the little ninja what he told Akane to tell the school officials and told him to bring the car around immediately. He hung up and looked back at Ranma to find Happosai standing over him. The old man looked old indeed, in that instant, and Kuno wondered how he knew to show up like he did. There was much about what was going on that Kuno didn't know, but he was sure as hell going to find out.
He was going to start by asking the little old man some questions, but Akane came running out of the school and he heard Sansuke pull up behind him. Damn, he thought. He guess the time for questions and answers would come later.
He helped the little ninja place Ranma gently into the back seat of the car and he sat on one side of him while Akane sat cradling his head in her lap. Happosai joined Sansuke in the front seat and kept looking back at Ranma with concern and confusion plainly etched into the wrinkles of his face.
*****
Ranma walked down a long corridor. He had never seen the corridor before, but that didn't mean anything. He's seen a lot of strange things in his dreams, and this one didn't seem any different. At the end of the hallway was a door. It was an ordinary door, cheaply made and well worn, with a red metal sign on it. The sign was rectangular and depicted a bat, it also had some writing on it, but since it was in English, Ranma couldn't read it.
Having nothing else to do, he opened the door and stepped into the room. He entered a fairly large bedroom that was as cluttered as a seldom entered storage room. There were two beds, one on each wall near the windows and a large chair sitting in front of a sealed fireplace. The chair had two tables flanking it with a lamp on each table and an ashtray on the chair's right side. There was an entertainment center from which blared a music unlike any Ranma had heard. It had sharp beats and a lot of bass, accompanied by the rhythmic shouting of the lyrics, which were in English. He thought it strange that his dream had so much English in it when he could barely say anything in it, let alone read it or understand it.
Standing by the bed farthest from the door was the stranger who had chased him in his earlier dream. He was tall, standing a little over six feet, with broad, stooped shoulders. His hair was bleached blond and shaved along the sides and back, leaving only the patch on the top, which came almost to his shoulders. He wore a black t-shirt of some band, Ranma suspected it was the band who's "music" was currently blaring, and baggy black jeans.
He turned when Ranma opened the door and looked at his guest. He had deep brown eyes and a long goatee that had blonde, red, brown and gray in it naturally. He wore glasses and didn't seem to like to smile too much. On his right forearm was a tattoo of an odd blue-skinned creature holding a flame. He waved a hand and the entertainment center and the volume of the music went down considerably. It was strange because the man didn't have a remote in his hand.
"Sorry about the music," he said in English, "but it's the only way I can stay calm under these circumstances." It didn't surprise Ranma that he could understand the stranger. This was a dream, after all. Ranma just stared at him, not knowing what to say or do.
"Would you like to have seat?" The man waved a hand at one of the beds and sat down in the chair. It looked like a very comfortable chair. He reached into a pocket and extracted a pack of cigarettes. He lit one and exhaled a long streamer of smoke. "Or you could just stand there like an idiot. It matters not. I brought you here so we could talk and come to an understanding, not to make you comfortable."
"What do ya mean, `brought'?" This was an odd dream indeed.
"I first feel I should apologize for what happened earlier today. It was my fault you felt like killing everyone during breakfast, and it was my fault you tried to kill Kuno. But that English test score was bullshit, though, and I will not apologize for your ineptitude."
Ranma had never had a dream like this before. It seemed at the same time real and surreal. He must have been sick or something and was having one of those fever dreams. But this dream man insulting him was pushing it. It was still his dream and he would not be insulted in it.
"Look, pal," he said, in Japanese which it didn't surprise him to know that the stranger understood him. "I don't know how you know about that stuff earlier, but you had best shut up about me being inept at anything."
The man's eyes, which had been fairly apathetic before, now went dead cold. He raised the hand not holding a cigarette and clenched his fist. Ranma felt as if the very air around him had turned solid and was crushing him. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move. He started to panic.
"Do not try to order me around in my house, boy," the stranger said calmly. "In here, I have the power of a god, and I'll not suffer your insolence one little bit. I hate this shit, and if I find the bastard who put me here, I will kill him. Slowly. Now, do you suppose we could forgo all the posturing and insults and have a civilized conversation? Hmm?"
Ranma nodded his head vigorously. He had started to come to the realization that this wasn't a normal dream at all. He didn't know what it was, but it was no normal dream. The air let him go and he fell to his knees, coughing. He stood up shakily, glared at his "host" and sat down on one of the beds.
"There, now that's better." His host had seemed to be back to the way he was when Ranma entered. He had no idea if that was normal or not, but he didn't think it mattered. "Those irrational episodes of rage you felt earlier were my fault, I'm afraid. I was just starting to wake up and my anger got away from me. I wasn't awake enough to control it. I have very violent impulses, you see, but my self control allows me to sublimate them and no harm comes to anyone. You, unfortunately, do not seem to possess the same self-control."
Ranma bristled at the unintentional insult and the man snapped a glare over him that made Ranma swallow his pique and continue to sit and listen.
"I'm not from anywhere near here, and of all the things I could want, this is one of the things I want the least. I do not like you, Ranma Saotome. I do not like you, or Genma, or Soun, or Akane, or Kuno, or Ryoga, or Kodachi or Ukyou, or Shampoo, or Happosai, or Cologne, or Mousse, or even Sansuke, for that matter. Nabiki, I have some respect for, though. She's manipulative and pretty ruthless. I admire those qualities, and I can't think of anyone who doesn't like Kasumi. She's sweet and kind-hearted and nice to a fault. Unfortunately, she's a victim waiting to happen.
"Please stop thinking of this as a dream. I assure you, it is not, although you can only come into my home when you are asleep. Containing the combined power of my anger and yours earlier today took it's toll on you. You aren't built to house that much hate. Ah, but I'm a bad host. Would you like something to drink?" He seemed to jump from subject to subject randomly, but there was an awful intelligence behind his eyes. He opened the door to a mini-fridge that was under the right hand table and extracted a bottle of soda. "I have water, if you prefer something not carbonated."
Ranma politely refused his offer and the man shrugged. "Each to his own," he said. He opened the soda and drank deep of it. This was going beyond anything Ranma ever wanted to experience. He supposed this must be like when you go insane. He heaved a forlorn sigh and tried to resign himself to his fate at a mental institute.
"Your not going insane," the stranger said. "You are as sane as you ever were, whereas I am not quite sane and never will be, but that's neither here nor there. Listen well, because I'm only going to say this once. Your family and friends are going to want an explanation for what happened earlier and I'm going to give you the only one I have. Are you willing to listen?" Ranma nodded. He really had no choice.
"Good. Now as far as I can tell, I've been put inside of your head. I'm not from his world, or any world near this one. No, I'm not some ancient spirit or alien from Planet X or anything like that. I'm as human as you, just from a different Earth is all. Something or someone decided to get rid of me for some reason and they felt this was suitable punishment. I swear I'll kill whoever did this to me. The gods will have to have mercy on the sonuvabitch because I sure as hell won't." Ranma could feel him getting angry. The hate came off of him in waves that made Ranma's stomach turn. "I really shouldn't get myself worked up like this," he said and the anger disappeared instantly. "I can do nothing about it until I get back. I guess you could say that you're possessed. It's accurate enough, but I wouldn't recommend trying to have me exorcised. It wouldn't be pleasant for anyone involved." He sighed, took his glasses off and rubbed a hand over his face.
"Gods, I just want to go home. I hate it here, and that hate seems to grow by the minute. But I've been sent here for a reason, so I guess I gotta play my part in this upcoming drama. I just wish I knew what it was, and who was writing it." He sat back and waved his hand at the stereo again and the music started blaring again, louder than before.
It seemed the more Ranma was around the stranger, the more he understood English because he could now understand the singer of the song. It was not a happy song. It was about a guy who had killed his little brother and then dug up his body from the graveyard to try to bring him back to life. He shuddered at the implied message of the song. He looked at the stranger and saw that he was silently singing along with the song. How could he stand to listen to this stuff, let alone sing along with it?
The stranger's head snapped up and he snapped his fingers. All sound in the room ceased, even sounds that Ranma wasn't aware of went silent. He looked at Ranma and Ranma saw he was genuinely sorry for inflicting his favored form of entertainment on his guest. He grinned apologetically and shrugged.
"Yeah, sorry about that," he said, "not many people in America like this group and it takes a certain mindset to really enjoy it. Again, I apologize. Like I said, it's the only way I can stay calm right now.
"I imagine that the others have gathered in the Tendo's dining room and are discussing what happened and various whacked out theories on what caused it. Happosai might have sensed a little of me during the fight. I think I spoke to him, I'm not sure. I guess I should let you get back so that we can get on with the question and answer portion of tonight's festivities. Now that I'm fully awake, I'll be able to speak directly into your mind, and when the need arrives, I can take control of you. Please note, it's when I think the need is sufficient. Or when I feel like it. I'm a pretty fickle man, I've been told."
He stood and waved his hand at the door. It swung silently open and the corridor outside it beckoned. Ranma stood and started towards the door when the stranger stopped him. Ranma turned and saw the man standing behind him with his hand outstretched in greeting.
"I'm called Daniel," he said. Ranma looked at the proffered hand and then looked back at Daniel. He took the hand and shook it.
"Ranma," he said, slightly sullenly. He didn't like this, not at all.
Together, they went out the door and it swung shut behind them. They started down the hallway side by side. The younger man with his head down and his hands in his pockets, the older one with his head high and an enigmatic grin on his face.