Where I Belong
By The Unseen Watcher
Rurouni Kenshin/ Ranma ½ crossover. See previous disclaimers.
Chapter 4
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Ranma groaned softly, messaging a sore shoulder.
Things were not going as he had hoped. His father had awakened him as usual by tossing him into the koi pond. Now Ranma had long ago reached a level where it was very hard to surprise him, even in sleep. Nabiki hadn't realized yet why so many photo opportunities were spoiled by his turning away at just the right moment.
However, with the lack of sleep and food and the inward focus on his problem he hadn't sensed another's approach until she found herself spitting out water.
Automatically losing her temper she had attacked, recklessly. She won, but had a lot of humiliating blows get in before she managed to lay the old man out.
Because of the drawn-out battle she missed breakfast, only adding to her ill humor. A hungry Ranma is a cranky Ranma. She only had time to use a ready kettle before Akane dragged him out the door by the pigtail.
The day had progressed normally from there. As normal as his day could be called.
Now he sat under his favorite bridge, scowling in thought as new bruises smarted. What was supposed to be a whole new beginning for him was turning into another bad rerun. At least he'd gotten lunch, courtesy of Ukyo. Now that he had a moment to himself, he just sat still in an effort to try to figure out what he was doing wrong. He was just about to give up on the still unfamiliar exercise when a snippet of his dream flashed across his mind.
Now it generally takes a while for new ideas not obviously related to martial arts to fully sink in to his subconscious mind, so Ranma can be forgiven for not grasping the incredibly obvious right away. So much of his attention was focused on fighting that anything else tended to get lost in the background. The concept that he could be wrong in a situation was still new and a difficult lesson to swallow. His trip with Dr. Tofu had begun to chip away at the thick wall between him and reality. Humility was one word he'd never heard of.
"No control." He mumbled in stunned realization. Since the day started he had fallen back on old habits of reacting before thinking and brushing off the blame. He had, it suddenly struck him, almost no control over his pride. It was just another thing determined to control him.
Ranma sighed, leaning back against the cool underside of the bridge. Okay, he knew part of the problem now, but how the hell was he supposed to solve it? A martial artist was supposed to be in control of himself at all times, and while the advice had come from a greedy, cowardly baka of a panda, it seemed to ring true.
But how to start? He needed to find a technique to control his arrogance, something that seemed ridiculous just thinking about it. He was the best wasn't he? Why try to hide it?
He shook his head at his own ego. There was no help for it. Only the most rigorous, painful training would help him here. Now what could he do?
An idea came to him and he grimaced.
Maybe this wasn't worth it after all.
**
Ryoga walked through the streets, trying not to show his bewilderment.
"Where on Earth am I now?!" he demanded, drawing several strange looks from passersby who hurried away from the crazy boy.
"Curse you Ranma, this is all your fault!!"
"How is your lousy sense of direction my fault?" A voice said directly behind the lost boy, causing him to jump and spin around searching frantically for the voice's owner. Unfortunately, he spun a bit too far and ended up facing his original position.
"RANMA! I know it's you. Come out and show yourself, you coward!" Ryoga cried, looking around wildly. A tap on his shoulder sent him spinning around again. It would have probably continued for some time if a firm hand hadn't stopped him mid- whirl and made him turn to face the right way, almost nose to nose with a sardonically smiling Ranma.
"There you are! Ranma, prepare to. . ." The rest of his trademark phrase was cut off rather abruptly when the red- shirted boy punched him in the gut, hard.
The breath whooshed out of Ryoga's lungs in a rush. He landed with a thump on his rear and just sat there while he got his breath back, too stunned to be angry yet. When had Ranma gotten so strong? His punches had never hurt that much. Ryoga's own rock-hard body had always protected him against a direct assault. He sat there, gasping like a landed fish, staring up at the other boy with wide eyes. The idea that Ranma could have been holding back all those times had not yet seeped in.
"Finished for now?" Ranma asked sarcastically, then mentally kicked himself for sliding into jerk-mode as the other's eyes darkened in anger. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nevermind, just. . .forget I said that ok?"
At the other's suspicious look he only shrugged, crossing his arms in front of him. "Look, man. I was kind of looking for you anyway. I, well, actually got somethin' important to say."
Ranma drew in a deep breath, feeling a bit shaky for some reason. He hadn't realized just how hard this was when he had reluctantly decided on this plan. Figuring that thinking about it more might make him reconsider, he blurted.
"Look, man. . .I just wanted to say that. . .that I'm sorry. About everything." He mentally cursed his stuttering and vague speech. He sounded like a complete weirdo.
Ryoga just looked up at him, uncomprehending.
"I mean. . ." Ranma tried to clarify, determined to see this through now that he'd started. "I'm sorry for all the stuff I've pulled on you. The bread, makin' fun of ya, and most of all Jusenkyo."
He paused for breath, and managed to force out through stiff lips. "You're right, I can't imagine what you've been through and what you go through every day. But really you get yourself in trouble most of the time by not listening and taking advantage with your other form and. . ."
Ranma clapped a hand over his mouth, forcibly stopping the defensive words. When he thought it safe to trust himself he lowered it and opened his mouth. Shut it. Then he finally seemed to give up and said honestly "I really am sorry Ryoga. I know that don't mean much but that's really all I can do now."
Exhaling loudly in relief that it was over, Ranma turned and hurried off.
He had already turned a corner when the Lost Boy's brain function returned, bringing the rest of his breath back with it.
Confused and angry about the fact that it seemed to be harder at that precise moment to find something to be angry about, he decided to go after the source of yet another problem and ran after the retreating pig-tailed martial artist.
He turned a corner and did what he does best. Got completely lost.
** Ranma ran over the rooftops of Nerima, his steps oddly light. It had been an excruciating ordeal, but now that it was over he felt as though he'd just dropped a heavy load he hadn't known he was carrying.
He'd apologized and for the most part kept his cool. He felt like he'd paid off his debt to Nabiki. Frowning at the thought, he pushed it aside for now. One thing at a time.
But he could do this. He had done it. He just had to keep control of his reactions. Treat everything like a kind of battle and he'd be fine. It should be easy from here. He just had to learn to keep his cool.
All the time.
**
His newfound resolve was put to the test that very night. Akane was in one of her 'domestic' moods. Which meant that she was determined to shove a concoction that would make a vulture retch down his throat. Sitting at the table with an all too familiar sense of impending doom, he fought for control of his emotions. When she firmly set a huge platter of something that looked like someone had already tried to eat it and failed in front of him, his mind started to work overtime trying to get him out of this mess. Or better yet, away from the mess.
He didn't realize that he'd been staring at the . . . experiment for several minutes (he could have sworn he saw it twitch) until Akane cut into his thoughts with an impatient "WELL?! Try it already!"
Ranma looked up at the scowl on her face and the angry red aura forming around her. Looking around, he saw no support. Not that he expected it. Everyone seemed extremely intent on their own meals. He kept his mouth resolutely clamped shut, because if he opened it just then he knew he would say something that would get him malleted. Or worse, some of the stuff might get in somehow.
*Soul of Ice, Soul of Ice . . . * he found himself chanting. It was as good a strategy as any. It should work. You didn't get much cooler than the Ice Soul. He focused on it now so desperately his vision was edged in an azure haze.
A cold blue aura appeared around him, expanding until he was vaguely surprised that Genma didn't get frostbite sitting next to him. His doubts and misgivings momentarily shelved, he looked up at Akane, and risked opening his mouth. He had to respond soon or get creamed.
"You first." His voice said, in a tone Azusa could have skated on. The part of his mind not submerged in ice boggled at what was coming out of his mouth. Did He just say that?
Akane's expression, meanwhile, had turned from rage to surprise. Regaining some of her lost defensiveness at the unexpected reply, she frowned. "Ranma, I made this dish especially for you. Now eat it before I get MAD." She looked about ready to pull out her mallet.
Ranma smiled. It was a chilling smile that didn't reach his eyes, which had gone flat. What to say? Well, it worked on him. He wasn't the only one with an ego.
Still smiling, he met her eyes squarely and said with a completely straight face the only thing he could think of.
"I dare you to."
Akane blinked, not sure she had heard correctly. "What's the matter?" asked the person who had taken the stupid macho jerk's place "You're not AFRAID, are ya?" His smile widened until it was officially a smirk. There was a clear challenge in his eyes.
Akane snapped out of her daze, her ready temper rising at the questioning of her courage. How DARE he imply that she was afraid?! She wasn't scared of anything and she'd prove it!
"I'll show you who's a coward Ranma!" she said aloud, scooping up a large chunk of the dish with her chopsticks and putting it in her mouth. She started to chew, a determined look on her face. Her resolve began to falter as the taste hit her tongue and the lump hit her stomach. She started to turn a rather sickly shade of green, stood up and frantically bolted for the bathroom.
"I don't think she's feelin' too well." Ranma remarked calmly as she disappeared, trailing smoke. "Maybe it was something she ate." With that, he started on Kasumi's offering, his expression serene, but his eyes were thoughtful. Everyone was staring at him in shock. Genma unconsciously edged away from him and made only a few attempts to steal his son's food. After his efforts were repeatedly blocked with only that disconcerting icy stare as a silent threat from the warrior he gave up and slumped over his food, sulking. Normally, he would have berated the boy for holding out on his father, but his well-honed survival instincts warned him to let it pass this time.
Something had gotten into the usually hotheaded boy tonight, and he definitely didn't want to get on its bad side. Soun was too surprised to tear up. Nabiki had a puzzled look in her eyes as she kept glancing at him. Kasumi's expression was oddly unreadable.
**
The next few weeks continued mainly along those lines. Ranma would be forced into one of those situations that usually left him flustered or reckless. True, he had to stop himself several times from reacting as per norm, but he gradually started to slide more easily into what Nabiki had dubbed his 'Cold Front.'
In fact, he seemed to get icier with time. He kept on constant alert, stretching his danger sense to its limits. His awareness radius gradually began to expand with the constant practice. He could now feel trouble as far away as five blocks.
When Kuno challenged him at the school gates, his strategy was as unexpected as it was effective. He would continue walking, casually dodge any bokken swipes, and then slug him, once, usually in the stomach. Ranma would then continue to school as if nothing had happened, often without saying a word, ignoring the upperclassman's wheezed insults.
I was becoming easier. He didn't even have to actively scan for danger. He did in automatically now. He could now feel Shampoo coming long before her bike came into sight. Therefore, he easily avoided being flattened under her tires, as was the tradition. This had often resulted in a very confused and very wet Shampoo, since she usually tried to land on him while he was walking the fence bordering the canal. Needless to say, Ranma got out of there fast, before the girl-turned-cat could dredge herself out of the water.
He still had his curse. No attitude change could help that. He was still a water magnet. But he refused to let Anything make him lose his cool, so he learned to just shrug and calmly go looking for hot water.
When Ryoga inevitably arrived to challenge him, the match was fought in silence. On Ranma's end anyway. He attacked with an almost bored look on his face, and gave only a mirthless smile in answer to the other's insults. The Lost Boy, still confused after their last confrontation, keep losing his focus whenever he happened to glance at the cold eyes of his opponent. The match didn't take long.
Everyone was wondering just what had happened to Ranma. Accusations of black magic were flung at the Amazons, who defended themselves by accusing the 'Violent Pervert Girl' of abusing him past the point of sanity.
Akane, the aforementioned Pervert Girl, responded by getting mad at everyone in general. She couldn't even take it out on Ranma because he had become rather scarce lately when she was around. He seemed to know when she was going to enter a room, and made sure he wasn't in it when she got there.
When Cologne tried to coax an explanation out of him, all she got was a cold smile and some 'advice' that he wouldn't look too favorably on Shampoo's claim if she tried to force the issue. She had left the interview more puzzled and slightly troubled than when she'd arrived.
Even Ukyo couldn't get anything out of him. He'd just change the subject or leave if pressed, and few could keep up with Ranma when he decided to become scarce.
The Wrecking Crew weren't the only ones to notice the 'new' Ranma. Several of his teachers had quiet nervous breakdowns with the constant unblinking icy stare boring into their backs as if he could pull their words out by force. More than one of them began to seriously reconsider their career choice.
The students kept their distance too. Even Daisuke and Ichiro couldn't get up the nerve to approach him. He spent his lunches with a rather large empty space around him. The fact that he seemed to openly enjoy the silence unnerved them even more.
In sheer desperation his rather pummeled father dragged him to Dr. Tofu's (he hadn't even come close to winning a match against Ranma lately. Few lasted more than five minutes). Genma didn't believe that a true martial artist had need of the babying of frequent trips to the doctor, but his nerves had started to fray. Every insult that had always sent the boy into a foaming rage now seemed to make his demeanor calmer and more frigid. His smile would only widen at each verbal volley, as if he was enjoying some private joke at Genma's expense. The sparring usually got rather painful after that.
Dr. Tofu checked Ranma over and then went into the waiting room to tell the gathered group that there was nothing wrong with Ranma physically. "It's probably just a phase he's going through." He told the anxious crowd soothingly. "Just give him some time and he'll get over it. All I can advise is that you leave him alone for awhile and he should be fine soon."
As the relieved group departed, Dr. Tofu went back into the examination room. Closing the door behind him, he gazed at the person standing calmly in the center of the floor. "Are you sure this is such a good idea Ranma?" He asked quietly.
Ranma nodded, meeting the eyes of the older man gravely. "It's got to be done doc. I'm not sure just how it's going to get me to my goal, but until then I think it's their turn to feel insecure."
Dr. Tofu looked at the young man before him, meeting his determined blue gaze with his own far older one.
"Just don't let it go too far. It can easily control you instead of the other way around. Be careful." He instructed quietly.
Ranma nodded. "I will."
**
So it continued. Word got out to leave Ranma alone and everyone was more than happy to comply. Some feared that he might completely snap if they weren't careful. Even the usual random challengers couldn't get close to him. Any who had not taken or heard the general advise were quickly taken care of by Ranma's fiancée's before they got within a block of him. NOTHING must disturb the apparently unstable martial artist.
Through it all Ranma moved calmly, caring less and less about reactions but remaining acutely aware of events around him. He kept his ears open and his mouth shut. There was the occasional wry thought that he was turning into Nabiki, only without any overt profit motive.
In fact his emotions had reached such a level of indifference that something bad was bound to happen to rudely snap him back to reality.
He had taken to sitting up on the house roof more lately. He seemed to consider it his domain and anyone who invaded it was beaten up or ignored. Even Kodachi thought twice about jumping him there. The last time she'd tried it he had casually tossed her own paralysis roses back at her without even bothering to turn around. The subsequent visit to the much use koi pond had her limping away in confusion.
Akane was the only stubborn holdout. On this day she was determined to go up there. It was Her family's roof, wasn't it? What right had that baka jerk to claim it?
Kasumi was doing laundry outside and thus had a good view when it happened. Akane had propped a ladder against the house and climbed it to the part of the roof a few feet from Ranma's position. She had only taken a few firm steps on the slippery tiles when she lost her footing. The old Ranma would have jumped up to save her. The old Ranma would have been warning her not to do it in the first place. The old Ranma would have caught her, been the one to take the brunt of the impact, and gotten pummeled for grabbing her. The old Ranma wasn't there.
Instead, as her arms windmilled in a futile effort to regain her balance and she let out a shout of surprise before falling off the roof, the new Ranma didn't even turn around. Akane knew how to fall, but her foot got caught briefly in the ladder and so she didn't have time to land right. She landed on her arm.
In the subsequent uproar the rest of the household, Soun in the lead, raced out of the house to find a sobbing Akane cradling her broken arm. The overprotective father took one look and began to wail louder than she was. In tears, he demanded to know why Ranma hadn't saved his little girl, to which the accused only shrugged and replied "she's always babbling that she's a martial artist. A martial artist knows how to land."
Soun almost went into full demon head mode at that, but at a gentle touch on his arm by his eldest daughter and her reminder that taking care of Akane's injury was the important thing at the moment, he seemed to calm down for a moment. Then he turned to his youngest and burst into fresh tears.
Kasumi said little after that, but a small frown briefly marred her cheerful expression. It had been doing that a lot lately.
That night Akane returned home from Dr. Tofu's with a cast that extended form wrist to elbow. Subdued, she studiously avoided Ranma, who in turn acted as though nothing had happened. Preparing to go to bed, he walked up the stairs, passing Kasumi on his way down the hall.
He stopped, surprised, when he felt a gentle hand on his arm. Turning with a question on his lips, he was totally unprepared for the slap that hit him full across his face, whipping his head to the side with surprising force.
Shock showing plainly on his face, he turned to look in astonishment at the gentle girl he often believed shooed flies out of the house rather than swat them.
Kasumi's face was composed, but there was an almost stern look in her eyes, like that of a mother determined to give an errant child a good talking to. Taking his limp hand in hers, she led him into his room.
Sinking gracefully to the floor, she gestured for him to take a seat facing her. He sat down cautiously, eyeing her warily like a placid pet gone rabid while absently noting that his position placed him in the exact center of the room. The proverbial hot seat.
"Ranma-kun." She said quietly, beginning. "I couldn't help but notice that you've changed lately." Ranma shifted slightly in his seat. She continued "I have not said anything because I trusted in your good heart to see you through, as it always has. But today . . ." She paused. "Today I saw someone in trouble. Saw they needed help. And you didn't care."
"You have always cared Ranma-kun. It is the quality I have admired the most about you. How you could still keep your good heart throughout everything that has happened."
"These past few weeks I have watched that wonderful heart vanish, buried under a wall of ice. Now this. Ranma, where did you go? Please don't run away like this. There has to be a better solution to your problems. You are only hurting yourself and the people around you this way. Please. . ." To his horror there were actual tears in her eyes. "Please come back."
Getting up, she carefully wiped the moisture from her eyes. Giving him one last look, she quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.
Ranma sat there, stunned. He'd had no defense. He hadn't senses her mood in the hall because he had expected it to be as vacantly happy as it always was. He hadn't expected the soft words. He Really hadn't expected the slap. Now Kasumi, of all people, had made it clear that she was disappointed in him. He had made Kasumi cry.
If someone else had done that, he would have flattened him. Instead, he had no one to beat on but himself.
Pulling his knees to his chest, he huddled in silent shame.
**
Sitting on the roof later that night, he tried to sort it all out.
The technique was flawed. As he had done with all the other skills he had sought to master he had tried to learn it too quickly, oblivious to any consequences. He had tried to shove himself into a mold that was not who he really was. Rather than shaping the technique, modifying it to his purposes, it had shaped him. He shivered slightly as he realized how close he had come to becoming as lost mentally as a Kuno. An imperfect shell of a martial artist that could never grow stronger because his own unbalanced soul held him back.
Control was good, but he had taken it to a level where it had overridden his code of protecting others. It had slowly dampened the rest of his personality until all that remained was a guy even more self-absorbed than before. The ice was a trap, lulling him to sleep until he froze to death. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had fallen in completely. Right then, he didn't want to know.
It took the simple truth from a girl that could qualify as an angel to point out the obvious. A girl, he mused, that was not as oblivious as she seemed. *She's got Tofu-sensei spellbound, and he's one of the sharpest people I've ever known. He's seen from the start what the rest of us didn't even consider. *
The ice had grown thick, but it had its weak points. The attack from an angle he'd never have dreamed a strike would come from had shattered it into a million pieces. All that was left was a few stubborn clinging shards. He'd just have to deal with them himself. He managed a weak smile. He had learned more in three minutes than in years of training with the old man. Her remarks about running away had struck particularly hard. He tried so much to be the complete opposite of his old man, and had ended up imitating him anyway. He had once vowed never to run away like his sorry excuse for a father, and he wasn't about to start now.
He shivered again, the cool night breeze not the cause. The truly scary thing was how easy it had seemed. As though distancing himself from those around him here was necessary. The people seemed less real by the day, dimming like a picture in a history book.
A chill swept up his spine, and he shivered again. All his senses were telling him that something was about to happen. Something big. He had to move quickly to recover and be ready for whatever came.
**
The next few days were better ones. Ranma remembered to smile more often, the warmth gradually beginning to creep back into his soul. Before long, he was joking again, to the immense relief of those around him.
To their delight, he paid more attention to the girls in his life, and actually didn't seem to mind them fighting over him. Only Ukyo felt the distance he was gradually putting between himself and those around him. It was different from his former coldness, almost polite. Nevertheless, it was there just the same. Keeping her worries to herself, all she could do was watch carefully.
***
Ranma was on the roof again. He'd had an argument with Akane and gotten punched through the ceiling. So, since he was already up there, he decided to stay for a while. Akane's arm was still healing, so her swing hadn't have as much of her body behind it as normal. In the year and a half he'd lived in Nerima a startling amount of it had been spent flying over it, so he was as good judge of how much strength she put behind a punch.
He smiled to himself at the thought, then frowned slightly. A year and a half? Had it been such a short time? He felt like he'd been there most of his life. Something else occurred to him, and he started to count slowly on his fingers (still not stellar at math). adding up the months.
Yup, he was right. His 17th birthday was coming up soon. He wondered if the next year would be as chaotic as the previous one.
In retrospect, it was a silly question to ask in Nerima.
******
Seventeen. Her son would soon be 17 years old. Nodoka sighed, continuing to sift through the boxes in the old storage chest. She had known this day would come. She just hadn't wanted to think about it. Almost, she gave into the temptation to forget about it, as she had tried for almost 17 years now. But honor won out and she continued her search until she found the small box she was looking for. Smoothing the dust from the lid, she opened it and rifled through the few contents, finding an old photograph at the bottom. Holding it gently in her fingertips, she gazed at the two faded figures there, and her resolve strengthened even as her heart broke.
She had a promise to keep, to an old friend.
---------------------
Trite? Cliché? Maybe, but everyone always says that and soon the cliches aren't used anymore. They become cliches because they were Good! I Like cliches! Oh, and if you notice some weird time clashes with the original story, that's ok. No one seems to age at a normal rate in any of these things anyway, so I decided not to worry too much. P.s. Is That enough chapters in a row for you? I've really been working on this story for quite a while you know.
Rurouni Kenshin/ Ranma ½ crossover. See previous disclaimers.
Chapter 4
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Ranma groaned softly, messaging a sore shoulder.
Things were not going as he had hoped. His father had awakened him as usual by tossing him into the koi pond. Now Ranma had long ago reached a level where it was very hard to surprise him, even in sleep. Nabiki hadn't realized yet why so many photo opportunities were spoiled by his turning away at just the right moment.
However, with the lack of sleep and food and the inward focus on his problem he hadn't sensed another's approach until she found herself spitting out water.
Automatically losing her temper she had attacked, recklessly. She won, but had a lot of humiliating blows get in before she managed to lay the old man out.
Because of the drawn-out battle she missed breakfast, only adding to her ill humor. A hungry Ranma is a cranky Ranma. She only had time to use a ready kettle before Akane dragged him out the door by the pigtail.
The day had progressed normally from there. As normal as his day could be called.
Now he sat under his favorite bridge, scowling in thought as new bruises smarted. What was supposed to be a whole new beginning for him was turning into another bad rerun. At least he'd gotten lunch, courtesy of Ukyo. Now that he had a moment to himself, he just sat still in an effort to try to figure out what he was doing wrong. He was just about to give up on the still unfamiliar exercise when a snippet of his dream flashed across his mind.
Now it generally takes a while for new ideas not obviously related to martial arts to fully sink in to his subconscious mind, so Ranma can be forgiven for not grasping the incredibly obvious right away. So much of his attention was focused on fighting that anything else tended to get lost in the background. The concept that he could be wrong in a situation was still new and a difficult lesson to swallow. His trip with Dr. Tofu had begun to chip away at the thick wall between him and reality. Humility was one word he'd never heard of.
"No control." He mumbled in stunned realization. Since the day started he had fallen back on old habits of reacting before thinking and brushing off the blame. He had, it suddenly struck him, almost no control over his pride. It was just another thing determined to control him.
Ranma sighed, leaning back against the cool underside of the bridge. Okay, he knew part of the problem now, but how the hell was he supposed to solve it? A martial artist was supposed to be in control of himself at all times, and while the advice had come from a greedy, cowardly baka of a panda, it seemed to ring true.
But how to start? He needed to find a technique to control his arrogance, something that seemed ridiculous just thinking about it. He was the best wasn't he? Why try to hide it?
He shook his head at his own ego. There was no help for it. Only the most rigorous, painful training would help him here. Now what could he do?
An idea came to him and he grimaced.
Maybe this wasn't worth it after all.
**
Ryoga walked through the streets, trying not to show his bewilderment.
"Where on Earth am I now?!" he demanded, drawing several strange looks from passersby who hurried away from the crazy boy.
"Curse you Ranma, this is all your fault!!"
"How is your lousy sense of direction my fault?" A voice said directly behind the lost boy, causing him to jump and spin around searching frantically for the voice's owner. Unfortunately, he spun a bit too far and ended up facing his original position.
"RANMA! I know it's you. Come out and show yourself, you coward!" Ryoga cried, looking around wildly. A tap on his shoulder sent him spinning around again. It would have probably continued for some time if a firm hand hadn't stopped him mid- whirl and made him turn to face the right way, almost nose to nose with a sardonically smiling Ranma.
"There you are! Ranma, prepare to. . ." The rest of his trademark phrase was cut off rather abruptly when the red- shirted boy punched him in the gut, hard.
The breath whooshed out of Ryoga's lungs in a rush. He landed with a thump on his rear and just sat there while he got his breath back, too stunned to be angry yet. When had Ranma gotten so strong? His punches had never hurt that much. Ryoga's own rock-hard body had always protected him against a direct assault. He sat there, gasping like a landed fish, staring up at the other boy with wide eyes. The idea that Ranma could have been holding back all those times had not yet seeped in.
"Finished for now?" Ranma asked sarcastically, then mentally kicked himself for sliding into jerk-mode as the other's eyes darkened in anger. He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Nevermind, just. . .forget I said that ok?"
At the other's suspicious look he only shrugged, crossing his arms in front of him. "Look, man. I was kind of looking for you anyway. I, well, actually got somethin' important to say."
Ranma drew in a deep breath, feeling a bit shaky for some reason. He hadn't realized just how hard this was when he had reluctantly decided on this plan. Figuring that thinking about it more might make him reconsider, he blurted.
"Look, man. . .I just wanted to say that. . .that I'm sorry. About everything." He mentally cursed his stuttering and vague speech. He sounded like a complete weirdo.
Ryoga just looked up at him, uncomprehending.
"I mean. . ." Ranma tried to clarify, determined to see this through now that he'd started. "I'm sorry for all the stuff I've pulled on you. The bread, makin' fun of ya, and most of all Jusenkyo."
He paused for breath, and managed to force out through stiff lips. "You're right, I can't imagine what you've been through and what you go through every day. But really you get yourself in trouble most of the time by not listening and taking advantage with your other form and. . ."
Ranma clapped a hand over his mouth, forcibly stopping the defensive words. When he thought it safe to trust himself he lowered it and opened his mouth. Shut it. Then he finally seemed to give up and said honestly "I really am sorry Ryoga. I know that don't mean much but that's really all I can do now."
Exhaling loudly in relief that it was over, Ranma turned and hurried off.
He had already turned a corner when the Lost Boy's brain function returned, bringing the rest of his breath back with it.
Confused and angry about the fact that it seemed to be harder at that precise moment to find something to be angry about, he decided to go after the source of yet another problem and ran after the retreating pig-tailed martial artist.
He turned a corner and did what he does best. Got completely lost.
** Ranma ran over the rooftops of Nerima, his steps oddly light. It had been an excruciating ordeal, but now that it was over he felt as though he'd just dropped a heavy load he hadn't known he was carrying.
He'd apologized and for the most part kept his cool. He felt like he'd paid off his debt to Nabiki. Frowning at the thought, he pushed it aside for now. One thing at a time.
But he could do this. He had done it. He just had to keep control of his reactions. Treat everything like a kind of battle and he'd be fine. It should be easy from here. He just had to learn to keep his cool.
All the time.
**
His newfound resolve was put to the test that very night. Akane was in one of her 'domestic' moods. Which meant that she was determined to shove a concoction that would make a vulture retch down his throat. Sitting at the table with an all too familiar sense of impending doom, he fought for control of his emotions. When she firmly set a huge platter of something that looked like someone had already tried to eat it and failed in front of him, his mind started to work overtime trying to get him out of this mess. Or better yet, away from the mess.
He didn't realize that he'd been staring at the . . . experiment for several minutes (he could have sworn he saw it twitch) until Akane cut into his thoughts with an impatient "WELL?! Try it already!"
Ranma looked up at the scowl on her face and the angry red aura forming around her. Looking around, he saw no support. Not that he expected it. Everyone seemed extremely intent on their own meals. He kept his mouth resolutely clamped shut, because if he opened it just then he knew he would say something that would get him malleted. Or worse, some of the stuff might get in somehow.
*Soul of Ice, Soul of Ice . . . * he found himself chanting. It was as good a strategy as any. It should work. You didn't get much cooler than the Ice Soul. He focused on it now so desperately his vision was edged in an azure haze.
A cold blue aura appeared around him, expanding until he was vaguely surprised that Genma didn't get frostbite sitting next to him. His doubts and misgivings momentarily shelved, he looked up at Akane, and risked opening his mouth. He had to respond soon or get creamed.
"You first." His voice said, in a tone Azusa could have skated on. The part of his mind not submerged in ice boggled at what was coming out of his mouth. Did He just say that?
Akane's expression, meanwhile, had turned from rage to surprise. Regaining some of her lost defensiveness at the unexpected reply, she frowned. "Ranma, I made this dish especially for you. Now eat it before I get MAD." She looked about ready to pull out her mallet.
Ranma smiled. It was a chilling smile that didn't reach his eyes, which had gone flat. What to say? Well, it worked on him. He wasn't the only one with an ego.
Still smiling, he met her eyes squarely and said with a completely straight face the only thing he could think of.
"I dare you to."
Akane blinked, not sure she had heard correctly. "What's the matter?" asked the person who had taken the stupid macho jerk's place "You're not AFRAID, are ya?" His smile widened until it was officially a smirk. There was a clear challenge in his eyes.
Akane snapped out of her daze, her ready temper rising at the questioning of her courage. How DARE he imply that she was afraid?! She wasn't scared of anything and she'd prove it!
"I'll show you who's a coward Ranma!" she said aloud, scooping up a large chunk of the dish with her chopsticks and putting it in her mouth. She started to chew, a determined look on her face. Her resolve began to falter as the taste hit her tongue and the lump hit her stomach. She started to turn a rather sickly shade of green, stood up and frantically bolted for the bathroom.
"I don't think she's feelin' too well." Ranma remarked calmly as she disappeared, trailing smoke. "Maybe it was something she ate." With that, he started on Kasumi's offering, his expression serene, but his eyes were thoughtful. Everyone was staring at him in shock. Genma unconsciously edged away from him and made only a few attempts to steal his son's food. After his efforts were repeatedly blocked with only that disconcerting icy stare as a silent threat from the warrior he gave up and slumped over his food, sulking. Normally, he would have berated the boy for holding out on his father, but his well-honed survival instincts warned him to let it pass this time.
Something had gotten into the usually hotheaded boy tonight, and he definitely didn't want to get on its bad side. Soun was too surprised to tear up. Nabiki had a puzzled look in her eyes as she kept glancing at him. Kasumi's expression was oddly unreadable.
**
The next few weeks continued mainly along those lines. Ranma would be forced into one of those situations that usually left him flustered or reckless. True, he had to stop himself several times from reacting as per norm, but he gradually started to slide more easily into what Nabiki had dubbed his 'Cold Front.'
In fact, he seemed to get icier with time. He kept on constant alert, stretching his danger sense to its limits. His awareness radius gradually began to expand with the constant practice. He could now feel trouble as far away as five blocks.
When Kuno challenged him at the school gates, his strategy was as unexpected as it was effective. He would continue walking, casually dodge any bokken swipes, and then slug him, once, usually in the stomach. Ranma would then continue to school as if nothing had happened, often without saying a word, ignoring the upperclassman's wheezed insults.
I was becoming easier. He didn't even have to actively scan for danger. He did in automatically now. He could now feel Shampoo coming long before her bike came into sight. Therefore, he easily avoided being flattened under her tires, as was the tradition. This had often resulted in a very confused and very wet Shampoo, since she usually tried to land on him while he was walking the fence bordering the canal. Needless to say, Ranma got out of there fast, before the girl-turned-cat could dredge herself out of the water.
He still had his curse. No attitude change could help that. He was still a water magnet. But he refused to let Anything make him lose his cool, so he learned to just shrug and calmly go looking for hot water.
When Ryoga inevitably arrived to challenge him, the match was fought in silence. On Ranma's end anyway. He attacked with an almost bored look on his face, and gave only a mirthless smile in answer to the other's insults. The Lost Boy, still confused after their last confrontation, keep losing his focus whenever he happened to glance at the cold eyes of his opponent. The match didn't take long.
Everyone was wondering just what had happened to Ranma. Accusations of black magic were flung at the Amazons, who defended themselves by accusing the 'Violent Pervert Girl' of abusing him past the point of sanity.
Akane, the aforementioned Pervert Girl, responded by getting mad at everyone in general. She couldn't even take it out on Ranma because he had become rather scarce lately when she was around. He seemed to know when she was going to enter a room, and made sure he wasn't in it when she got there.
When Cologne tried to coax an explanation out of him, all she got was a cold smile and some 'advice' that he wouldn't look too favorably on Shampoo's claim if she tried to force the issue. She had left the interview more puzzled and slightly troubled than when she'd arrived.
Even Ukyo couldn't get anything out of him. He'd just change the subject or leave if pressed, and few could keep up with Ranma when he decided to become scarce.
The Wrecking Crew weren't the only ones to notice the 'new' Ranma. Several of his teachers had quiet nervous breakdowns with the constant unblinking icy stare boring into their backs as if he could pull their words out by force. More than one of them began to seriously reconsider their career choice.
The students kept their distance too. Even Daisuke and Ichiro couldn't get up the nerve to approach him. He spent his lunches with a rather large empty space around him. The fact that he seemed to openly enjoy the silence unnerved them even more.
In sheer desperation his rather pummeled father dragged him to Dr. Tofu's (he hadn't even come close to winning a match against Ranma lately. Few lasted more than five minutes). Genma didn't believe that a true martial artist had need of the babying of frequent trips to the doctor, but his nerves had started to fray. Every insult that had always sent the boy into a foaming rage now seemed to make his demeanor calmer and more frigid. His smile would only widen at each verbal volley, as if he was enjoying some private joke at Genma's expense. The sparring usually got rather painful after that.
Dr. Tofu checked Ranma over and then went into the waiting room to tell the gathered group that there was nothing wrong with Ranma physically. "It's probably just a phase he's going through." He told the anxious crowd soothingly. "Just give him some time and he'll get over it. All I can advise is that you leave him alone for awhile and he should be fine soon."
As the relieved group departed, Dr. Tofu went back into the examination room. Closing the door behind him, he gazed at the person standing calmly in the center of the floor. "Are you sure this is such a good idea Ranma?" He asked quietly.
Ranma nodded, meeting the eyes of the older man gravely. "It's got to be done doc. I'm not sure just how it's going to get me to my goal, but until then I think it's their turn to feel insecure."
Dr. Tofu looked at the young man before him, meeting his determined blue gaze with his own far older one.
"Just don't let it go too far. It can easily control you instead of the other way around. Be careful." He instructed quietly.
Ranma nodded. "I will."
**
So it continued. Word got out to leave Ranma alone and everyone was more than happy to comply. Some feared that he might completely snap if they weren't careful. Even the usual random challengers couldn't get close to him. Any who had not taken or heard the general advise were quickly taken care of by Ranma's fiancée's before they got within a block of him. NOTHING must disturb the apparently unstable martial artist.
Through it all Ranma moved calmly, caring less and less about reactions but remaining acutely aware of events around him. He kept his ears open and his mouth shut. There was the occasional wry thought that he was turning into Nabiki, only without any overt profit motive.
In fact his emotions had reached such a level of indifference that something bad was bound to happen to rudely snap him back to reality.
He had taken to sitting up on the house roof more lately. He seemed to consider it his domain and anyone who invaded it was beaten up or ignored. Even Kodachi thought twice about jumping him there. The last time she'd tried it he had casually tossed her own paralysis roses back at her without even bothering to turn around. The subsequent visit to the much use koi pond had her limping away in confusion.
Akane was the only stubborn holdout. On this day she was determined to go up there. It was Her family's roof, wasn't it? What right had that baka jerk to claim it?
Kasumi was doing laundry outside and thus had a good view when it happened. Akane had propped a ladder against the house and climbed it to the part of the roof a few feet from Ranma's position. She had only taken a few firm steps on the slippery tiles when she lost her footing. The old Ranma would have jumped up to save her. The old Ranma would have been warning her not to do it in the first place. The old Ranma would have caught her, been the one to take the brunt of the impact, and gotten pummeled for grabbing her. The old Ranma wasn't there.
Instead, as her arms windmilled in a futile effort to regain her balance and she let out a shout of surprise before falling off the roof, the new Ranma didn't even turn around. Akane knew how to fall, but her foot got caught briefly in the ladder and so she didn't have time to land right. She landed on her arm.
In the subsequent uproar the rest of the household, Soun in the lead, raced out of the house to find a sobbing Akane cradling her broken arm. The overprotective father took one look and began to wail louder than she was. In tears, he demanded to know why Ranma hadn't saved his little girl, to which the accused only shrugged and replied "she's always babbling that she's a martial artist. A martial artist knows how to land."
Soun almost went into full demon head mode at that, but at a gentle touch on his arm by his eldest daughter and her reminder that taking care of Akane's injury was the important thing at the moment, he seemed to calm down for a moment. Then he turned to his youngest and burst into fresh tears.
Kasumi said little after that, but a small frown briefly marred her cheerful expression. It had been doing that a lot lately.
That night Akane returned home from Dr. Tofu's with a cast that extended form wrist to elbow. Subdued, she studiously avoided Ranma, who in turn acted as though nothing had happened. Preparing to go to bed, he walked up the stairs, passing Kasumi on his way down the hall.
He stopped, surprised, when he felt a gentle hand on his arm. Turning with a question on his lips, he was totally unprepared for the slap that hit him full across his face, whipping his head to the side with surprising force.
Shock showing plainly on his face, he turned to look in astonishment at the gentle girl he often believed shooed flies out of the house rather than swat them.
Kasumi's face was composed, but there was an almost stern look in her eyes, like that of a mother determined to give an errant child a good talking to. Taking his limp hand in hers, she led him into his room.
Sinking gracefully to the floor, she gestured for him to take a seat facing her. He sat down cautiously, eyeing her warily like a placid pet gone rabid while absently noting that his position placed him in the exact center of the room. The proverbial hot seat.
"Ranma-kun." She said quietly, beginning. "I couldn't help but notice that you've changed lately." Ranma shifted slightly in his seat. She continued "I have not said anything because I trusted in your good heart to see you through, as it always has. But today . . ." She paused. "Today I saw someone in trouble. Saw they needed help. And you didn't care."
"You have always cared Ranma-kun. It is the quality I have admired the most about you. How you could still keep your good heart throughout everything that has happened."
"These past few weeks I have watched that wonderful heart vanish, buried under a wall of ice. Now this. Ranma, where did you go? Please don't run away like this. There has to be a better solution to your problems. You are only hurting yourself and the people around you this way. Please. . ." To his horror there were actual tears in her eyes. "Please come back."
Getting up, she carefully wiped the moisture from her eyes. Giving him one last look, she quietly left the room, closing the door behind her.
Ranma sat there, stunned. He'd had no defense. He hadn't senses her mood in the hall because he had expected it to be as vacantly happy as it always was. He hadn't expected the soft words. He Really hadn't expected the slap. Now Kasumi, of all people, had made it clear that she was disappointed in him. He had made Kasumi cry.
If someone else had done that, he would have flattened him. Instead, he had no one to beat on but himself.
Pulling his knees to his chest, he huddled in silent shame.
**
Sitting on the roof later that night, he tried to sort it all out.
The technique was flawed. As he had done with all the other skills he had sought to master he had tried to learn it too quickly, oblivious to any consequences. He had tried to shove himself into a mold that was not who he really was. Rather than shaping the technique, modifying it to his purposes, it had shaped him. He shivered slightly as he realized how close he had come to becoming as lost mentally as a Kuno. An imperfect shell of a martial artist that could never grow stronger because his own unbalanced soul held him back.
Control was good, but he had taken it to a level where it had overridden his code of protecting others. It had slowly dampened the rest of his personality until all that remained was a guy even more self-absorbed than before. The ice was a trap, lulling him to sleep until he froze to death. He shuddered to think what would have happened if he had fallen in completely. Right then, he didn't want to know.
It took the simple truth from a girl that could qualify as an angel to point out the obvious. A girl, he mused, that was not as oblivious as she seemed. *She's got Tofu-sensei spellbound, and he's one of the sharpest people I've ever known. He's seen from the start what the rest of us didn't even consider. *
The ice had grown thick, but it had its weak points. The attack from an angle he'd never have dreamed a strike would come from had shattered it into a million pieces. All that was left was a few stubborn clinging shards. He'd just have to deal with them himself. He managed a weak smile. He had learned more in three minutes than in years of training with the old man. Her remarks about running away had struck particularly hard. He tried so much to be the complete opposite of his old man, and had ended up imitating him anyway. He had once vowed never to run away like his sorry excuse for a father, and he wasn't about to start now.
He shivered again, the cool night breeze not the cause. The truly scary thing was how easy it had seemed. As though distancing himself from those around him here was necessary. The people seemed less real by the day, dimming like a picture in a history book.
A chill swept up his spine, and he shivered again. All his senses were telling him that something was about to happen. Something big. He had to move quickly to recover and be ready for whatever came.
**
The next few days were better ones. Ranma remembered to smile more often, the warmth gradually beginning to creep back into his soul. Before long, he was joking again, to the immense relief of those around him.
To their delight, he paid more attention to the girls in his life, and actually didn't seem to mind them fighting over him. Only Ukyo felt the distance he was gradually putting between himself and those around him. It was different from his former coldness, almost polite. Nevertheless, it was there just the same. Keeping her worries to herself, all she could do was watch carefully.
***
Ranma was on the roof again. He'd had an argument with Akane and gotten punched through the ceiling. So, since he was already up there, he decided to stay for a while. Akane's arm was still healing, so her swing hadn't have as much of her body behind it as normal. In the year and a half he'd lived in Nerima a startling amount of it had been spent flying over it, so he was as good judge of how much strength she put behind a punch.
He smiled to himself at the thought, then frowned slightly. A year and a half? Had it been such a short time? He felt like he'd been there most of his life. Something else occurred to him, and he started to count slowly on his fingers (still not stellar at math). adding up the months.
Yup, he was right. His 17th birthday was coming up soon. He wondered if the next year would be as chaotic as the previous one.
In retrospect, it was a silly question to ask in Nerima.
******
Seventeen. Her son would soon be 17 years old. Nodoka sighed, continuing to sift through the boxes in the old storage chest. She had known this day would come. She just hadn't wanted to think about it. Almost, she gave into the temptation to forget about it, as she had tried for almost 17 years now. But honor won out and she continued her search until she found the small box she was looking for. Smoothing the dust from the lid, she opened it and rifled through the few contents, finding an old photograph at the bottom. Holding it gently in her fingertips, she gazed at the two faded figures there, and her resolve strengthened even as her heart broke.
She had a promise to keep, to an old friend.
---------------------
Trite? Cliché? Maybe, but everyone always says that and soon the cliches aren't used anymore. They become cliches because they were Good! I Like cliches! Oh, and if you notice some weird time clashes with the original story, that's ok. No one seems to age at a normal rate in any of these things anyway, so I decided not to worry too much. P.s. Is That enough chapters in a row for you? I've really been working on this story for quite a while you know.