Author's Notes: So here we are with another episode. It has been a truly busy time for me lately but somehow, all this stuff is still getting written. Thanks must go to the Almighty for granting me the time to pursue this hobby of mine.
I'm glad to hear that this story is starting to take shape. I had not ever seen myself writing a romance fic ever, and certainly not a Ranma fic. Well, this is a strange world and people do strange things from time to time.
So last episode, we saw Ryoga being diverted because of a stolen and chewed up shoe. What will that mean for Ryoga then? Well, let's find out in this episode where he will start out predictably lost.
Episode 3: A Lost Cause?
Ryoga Hibiki was lost.
"No, I am not!" Ryoga said to the unseen fanfic writer, who was currently the author of his fate. "I'm just . . . misplaced."
He looked around for a sign that would tell him where he was. The first hint that he had that something was wrong was that when he finally woke from his nap, it had been bright as day. In fact, it was day.
He had then alighted at the very next stop and expected to find himself either in Nerima or one of the surrounding towns, but something told him that it was not the case. No, this definitely did not feel like Nerima. Things were too normal here. The absence of roving cults was one big clue.
Ryoga Hibiki was lost.
"Alright, alright! That's enough already, you cretin! How dare you mock me!?" Ryoga pointed his finger threateningly at the sky.
Blah, blah, blah. Sticks and stones. Suit yourself, said the fanfic writer who promptly authored away all road signs in the vicinity. Let's see you get yourself out of this one, Ryoga!
"Curses! Where am I now?" Ryoga felt the familiar anger simmering in him, his head swiveling around, hoping to catch a glimpse of anything that would give him a clue as to where he was. Perhaps a glimpse of Mt. Fuji would help him gain his bearings. Mysteriously, the road signs around him had either been vandalized beyond readability or had simply been 'erased', vanishing before his very eyes.
He felt the heat rising up within him, the temptation to pin this on that okonomiyaki girl. But the feeling was gone quickly. He must still be in Tokyo. After all, how far could the bus have gone? He had probably made several circuits of the bus' route, the driver probably not noticing the one sleeping passenger in the back. But then, he wasn't so sure if they ran buses all through the night in Tokyo.
Then he saw him. Like an angel of mercy. A vision of hope. It was the tourist he had shared the bus with and he was right ahead, asking a local for directions, map in hand and camera still slung around his neck.
Maybe I could ask the same guy for directions. The tourist and the local were still in deep conversation when Ryoga reached them. The foreigner was jabbering away in a mix of English and Japanese, a language that he had very limited knowledge of from his early school days.
Ryoga listened for a moment, absorbed what was being said and couldn't help laughing at the hapless tourist. "You're looking for the Kinkaku-ji? The Golden Pavilion?" He said suddenly and both men turned to look at this laughing maniac. "You poor soul! That's in Kyoto, my friend!"
"Um, it's just over there, sir," the local man said, shooting a disgusted look at Ryoga as he spoke to the tourist. "Just follow this road and you'll find it."
"Yeah! Like after how many days of walking, right?"
The local looked slightly peeved now and the tourist looked at them both, a look of confusion wrought across his face. "Actually, it's twenty minutes from here."
Ryoga laughed even louder now, pointing at the tourist and bending over to ease the ache in his stomach. "Come on, man. Stop playing with the poor guy and just tell him the truth. You make it sound as if he's in Kyoto already. Eh? Hahaha . . . Eh?"
The local wasn't laughing with him. In fact, he was regarding him with a look that one normally reserved for a person who was certifiably insane. He was pointing at a large neon sign that had mysteriously materialized, mounted on the building behind him. It read: 'Kyoto Welcomes All Tourists to See the Golden Pavilion'.
"No way . . ." Ryoga's jaw fell and felt himself falling backwards into the endless pit, screaming. "Kyoto?"
He felt his legs going weak and he dropped to his knees as the full impact of the shock finally hit him. Kyoto? I am in . . . Kyoto?
Author: That's right, pigboy, read 'em and weep 'em.
"Damn it!" Ryoga thrust his finger into the pavement and it disintegrated in a blast of fragments.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" the local was running away now. "Police! Someone call the police!"
The tourist on the other hand was snapping away with his camera. Ryoga fixed him with one of those glowing-eyed stare.
"Point that thing somewhere else . . ." he warned in a low, dangerous growl.
But the man, totally oblivious to the danger, snapped off another shot, and the flash blinded Ryoga. "That was awesome, man! Woohoo! Wait till the folks back home hear about this! They're never going to believe you just did that with your finger. Pity all the fragments had to hit you though!" He was laughing.
Ryoga snarled. It was an animal sound, definitely not human. Here he was, hundreds of miles away from home, tired and frustrated, humiliated by a man who hardly knew his way around the country and who now had the cheek to snap candid shots of him. It was really too much for him to take and he felt the sensation running through, the flowing of pure energy.
Author: Oh, no.
"Oh, yes!" Ryoga brought his hands together. "SHISHI HOKOUDAN!"
That day, thousand of residents would report having seen a great column of light rising from downtown Kyoto into the heavens. Researchers from a nearby seismic activity monitor station also observed a sudden jump in the Richter scale that would later prove to be unexplainable, resulting in all that precious equipment being sold off for scrap. The station was closed down and the disgraced scientists reassigned to volcano watch duty instead. Only a real earthquake, some two decades later, convinced the government to reopen the station and install brand new equipment to appease the residents.
At least Ryoga had the presence of mind to flee ground zero immediately after the immense discharge of 'chi' energy within him. Months without fighting Ranma had allowed far too much of it to store up. And the blast had been absolutely devastating.
Some thought it was the finger of God. Others thought it was a great alien spaceships crashing on earth, the legacy of a alien genius from the other end of the galaxy (Sorry, I couldn't resist the Macross reference again.)
Those who had witnessed or lived through the destruction firsthand would return to their homes, telling of a great modern-day deity who walked amongst men. That the ancient gods had not forgotten how the people had turned away from their worship and devotions and followed the ways of the material world instead.
Within a week of this great blast and pillar of light, would be thereafter referred to as the Heavenly Mandate and Kyoto's numerous temples which had long since fallen into disuse, serving as nothing more than tourist attractions, were once again filled with devout worshippers as a religious revival of epic proportions spread through the city.
But for Ryoga, he had simply, ran and ran, partly out of fear for the local authorities, partly out of frustration. And he had gone on and on, searching desperately for the way back to Tokyo. Time and distance lost all meaning for him as he simply ran, stopping only occasionally to seek directions.
Even as he finally left the outskirts of Kyoto and headed south, the first residents were beginning to throng in the city's temples to rededicate their lives to their ancient beliefs.
There was a crack of thunder and Ukyo felt an inexplicable chill. She was just closing up for the evening, sweeping up the dried leaves that had fallen at her restaurant's entrance.
There would be rain tonight. A storm again, perhaps. Without thunder and lightning and boy, did she hate storms. Especially when she was alone. She heard a metallic sound and caught movement with the corner of her eye. Instinctively, her hand reached out and caught the shiny object in midair. It was a coin.
"Do you mind if we stopped by for a little okonomiyaki?"
That voice made Ukyo blood freeze and her heart stop. Ranma!
"Um, Ucchan?"
Think, girl! It's Ranchan! She turned but her large smile died on her lips when she saw Akane by Ranma's side. She wanted to say no, but there was another clap of thunder. A sign?
Boom.
Nah . . .
Crash!
Ok, definitely a sign.
"Um, well, come on in. The grill's still hot anyway!" She did her best to flash a smile as she invited them into her restaurant.
She was behind the grill in a flash, preparing two pizzas for the couple now sitting in front of her. She worked in silence, unable to find the right words to say. It was Akane who finally spoke first.
"Ukyo, you have been behaving very strangely lately."
"I have?"
"You've not been yourself, Ucchan." Ranma said, finally knowing when to take a cue from Akane when he got one. "Has there been anything bothering you?"
"Aw, don't worry about me, Ranchan. I'm fine." Ukyo said as she finished up the okonomiyaki and set it down on the plates in front of the couple. "There we go."
"Um, Ukyo, you forgot the sauce."
"Huh? Oh, silly me!" Ukyo's laughter was faked. "Oh, I guess I've just been working a little too hard lately, that's all!"
"Don't you get lonely here?" Akane asked. "I mean, now that you're all alone?"
Ukyo half-glared at her. Was Akane gloating over how she had gotten Ranma in the end? No. Ukyo shook her head. She is just concerned. Indeed, I have not been the same . . . not since . . . well, not since these two . . .
"Say, where's Ryoga?" Ranma asked absently.
"Ryoga?" Ukyo asked, trying hard to hide the shock. "I don't know what you're talking about!" Her reply had come too quickly, but it was too late to take those words back now. She saw Akane elbow him hard in the ribs.
"Hehehe. I don't, either. Hahaha." Ranma chuckled. "What was I thinking?"
Ukyo felt her gut twisting. Had Ranma and Akane known about Ryoga's unexpected visit? Had they seen her with him? And if so, what had she been doing when they saw her?
"Um. You could always come stay at the dojo if you want. Our doors are always open." Akane said by way on invitation. Ukyo felt her heart breaking. It was just the way Akane had said the word 'our'.
"It's ok, Akane. You two are most kind. I'll certainly remember your offer should the need ever arise."
"Say, could I use the bathroom for awhile?" Akane asked suddenly and Ukyo paled.
"Ak! Um, well, I'm kinda doing some renovations now . . . Uh, ah . . . it's kinda messy with all the hacking and all." Ukyo lied.
"Oh, that's a shame." Akane frowned a little. "Hey, Ranma. I think I ought to go home first. Why don't you stay a little longer and chat with Ukyo?"
"Hey, it's late, I ought to . . ."
"No, no, no." Akane laughed as she pounded him brutally on the shoulder and pulled him close and hissed. "Ranma, you idiot! You promised!"
"Huh? Oh . . . ah, yeah! Hehe." Then he turned to his childhood friend, scratching the back of head awkwardly before saying. "Maybe I ought to keep you company a little longer, Ucchan!"
"Yeah. Don't worry about a macho chick like me. I can take care of myself, right?"
"Of course! A macho chick like . . ."
The hammer had materialized from out of nowhere. One moment Akane's hands were empty, the next, she had brought the blunt object down on her fiance's head with earthshaking force. "Dummy. See you later then."
And with that, she stepped out of the restaurant leaving a very perplexed Ukyo and a very sore Ranma behind.
"Oooooh," Ranma groaned as he pulled himself up, nursing the huge bump that had begun to sprout on his head, protruding through his hair. "There are times when she can just be so uncute . . ."
"But you still love her, don't you?" Ukyo asked, trying to mask all signs of sadness from her tone.
"Of course I do, Ucchan." Then he caught the look on her face and turned serious. "And that's what I wanted to talk to you about."
"Huh?" Ukyo gasped in mild surprise, then tried to show him an irritated look. "What's there to talk about? You chose her. And left me alone."
That seemed to hit Ranma pretty hard and he recoiled, hurt by her bitterness. Ukyo felt a rising urge to let it all out. The frustration, the anger, the disappointment. No, you will not do this. She sighed very softly. It is not all his fault. And a part of you still loves him.
"Ucchan . . ." Ranma placed his hand on her shoulders and pulled her a little closer. She looked at him for one surprised moment, stared down at the floor, averting his eyes. "And I'm sorry I can't find the right words to tell you how sorry I am."
"I thought we would get married, Ranma Saotome!" Ukyo suddenly burst out, the tears flowing freely now. "I loved you Ranma! Even before you met Akane! And yet, you left me. Not once, but twice!"
Ranma faced her in silence, lips moving but no words coming. He thought briefly of pointing out that he had been promised to Akane even before Ukyo's father had offered the elder Saotome his okonomiyaki cart as dowry. But that would serve no purpose in this conversation so he left it out.
"How much can you expect a girl to bear? One way or the other, you were my life! But I just bring myself to hate you anymore! And if I can't love you . . ."
"I'm sorry, Ucchan. Believe me, I am." Ranma said softly, reaching out to wipe the tears away. "I had to make a choice . . . and I realized that it was Akane whom I loved most."
Ukyo forced herself to nod her head. She had prepared for this. She had told herself that one day this would happen, that Ranma would finally talk to her about this. And she had rehearsed everything in her mind. Had sat in front of a mirror even to practice.
She thought she had it all figured out. How to come across as the girl who had done nothing to deserve being treated this way and yet was willing to accept his choice no matter how unfair it was.
"Ucchan, don't cry. I'm still your best friend right?"
Ukyo nodded jerkily. Then in a broken voice, she managed, "Ranma, let's not talk about this tonight. Akane is waiting for you."
There was another clap of thunder and Ukyo flinched, Ranma steadying her, hands still gripping her shoulders.
"But . . ."
"Another day, Ranma." She said firmly. Then her tone took a pleading note. "Please. I've been very tired lately."
Ranma said nothing, still holding her by shoulders, unable to say anything.
"I'm not avoiding the subject, Ranchan. I won't as long as you don't. But . . . I realize I'm just . . . not ready to talk about it yet."
"Ucchan . . ." But Ranma already knew that as far as she was concerned, this conversation was over. He pulled her close in a hug and felt that cold veneer of hers peeling away. "I'm sorry."
Ukyo's heart melted with that hug. How she had longed for him to do that! And now he finally was. But it wasn't under circumstances that she had ever imagined. No, she never ever dreamed it would happen this way. She savored the hug, the warmth, which was over far too quickly.
"Ucchan, I do hope you will find the love of your life someday." Ranma said as he got up to leave. "I am so sorry it wasn't me."
"Yeah. I'm sorry too." Her reply was a barely audible whisper. "Good night, Ranchan. Give Akane my regards."
"I will. Goodnight, Ucchan."
And then he was gone and she was finally alone again in her grief, an old wound that had now been ripped open. She felt a paroxysm of grief and coursing through her body. "Damn you, Ranma . . ."
And the tears fell freely onto the grill, sizzling.
Also alone now in his grief several hundred (if not thousand miles) away, was Ryoga Hibiki, standing atop a snow-capped mountain that he had thought was Mount Fuji. There had been no reason to suspect that it was not Mt. Fuji (nor was there evidence to suggest the contrary). But from his viewpoint thousands of meters above sea level, he saw nothing but forlorn darkness below him. It was almost as dark as the black, empty void in his soul that had always hoped to fill with Akane's love.
He looked again in every direction, but did not see the familiar array of lights in the distance that would have been Tokyo. There wasn't even the diffuse glow on the horizon that denoted the presence of some major settlement in any direction.
In simple words, he was lost.
Author: Again. Now why am I not surprised?
"Not now," Ryoga said simply to the author, much of the strength gone from his voice. The howling wind whipped against his body, the icy cold biting into him and he grit his teeth. All that effort running up here . . . for nothing. There wasn't even a view to enjoy. Damn it!
Ryoga was finally tired and the weariness was hitting him like a wave. He could not understand why every single person he had asked for directions kept pointing him back in the direction that he had come. He was very sure he had combed the region for north to south, south to north, east to west, west to east, northeast to southwest . . . well, you get the picture, don't you?
Judging by the search pattern that he had been running all day, he was certain that a 2168-square-kilometer city that was home to 12 million people could not possibly have eluded him. He had steered clear of all major bodies of water so he was pretty sure he was still in Japan.
But as with almost any other time in his life that he stood on the summit of a mountain, cliff or hill, gazing down on the land below, he felt the familiar pangs of despair. In the day, he would be able to see creation stretch for miles upon miles under his feet. The great expanse of Mother Nature. And he would not know where he was. And now he couldn't even retrace his steps since he hadn't the slightest clue which way he had come. The falling snow had already erased his tracks.
In the old days, he would simply placed the blamed on Saotome. But he found that he couldn't really do that this time. After all, didn't Ukyo buy him the ticket? Leave Ukyo out of this, a voice inside him growled and he felt mild shock.
"Who said that?" He asked aloud into the blowing wind, choking on snow that was blown down his throat.
Follow the script, you fool!
"What? What script?"
But there was no reply this time. He wondered if he had even heard that voice at all. He was tired and cold, the long day's trek had finally tested his strength to its limit and he simply could not go on.
He put his rucksack down and extracted his tent, trying to fix it in the high winds. It wasn't working out. The winds were preventing him from pitching the tent properly since the wide surface caught the wind like a sail and kept threatening to tear itself from his grasp. A really strong gust blew and Ryoga felt the tent slipping from his grip. He tightened and the motion stopped, the material straining against his taut grip. He bared his fangs, feeling a small sense of victory at having defied the elements just this once.
Then he heard a tearing sound. It wasn't really audible because of the wind that screamed past his ear, but he no longer felt the straining at his hand and he turned to see the better part of his tent flapping away into the darkness, tossed and spun around him before his eyes, as if nature were taunting him.
Now what? Ryoga wanted to kill someone. Why does this always have to happen to me? Why? It was that idiot Saotome! It was all his fault. It was his fault for taking away his sweet Akane and depriving Ukyo of love. It was his fault that he was now depressed over losing Akane, causing to come out wandering here. It was his fault that Ukyo was so devastated and that he could not stand seeing her so down. It was his fault that he became P-chan and could never enjoy true affection. Even Ukyo calls me pigboy! It's all Saotome's fault from running out on that duel, causing me to follow across China . . . to Jusenkyo . . .
"Bakusai tenketsu!" He drove his finger into the ground and ground bulged then exploded in a rushing torrent of frozen earth and snow.
Ryoga felt the frozen debris pelt his already battered body before finding himself in a shallow hole. Wait a second . . . An idea formed. I don't have a tent but . . . He looked at his index finger then at the ground a small, tired grin creasing his features. Why not?
Using the 'Breaking Point' technique as rapidly as he dared he churned open the ground, the great furrow scarring the mountaintop. Time no longer held any meaning for him as he channeled his anger into creating his shelter from the night.
High above him in space, one of America's ultra-sophisticated KEYHOLE satellites, trained its telescopic 'eye' on this strange disturbance atop this Japanese mountain. Observers at both NORAD and the Pentagon had absolutely no idea what they were looking at and within the hour, the CIA was called in to provide an analysis. It took hundreds of analysts and specialists thousands of man-hours to finally come up with the only available conclusion several days later. Japan had begun it's own nuclear weapons program and had begun digging deep silos in mountains from which to launch their new missiles. The effect of diplomatic relations between the two nations in the months to come was indeed profound.
Ryoga finally stopped after some time and realized that he had created a fair-sized tunnel network that allowed him to sleep in a warm chamber some distance underground. Satisfied with his handiwork, he dragged his knapsack underground, made his way through the handmade tunnels and dropped wearily into the 'bedroom' he had fashioned for himself. He did not have anything to build a fire with, but so deep underground, he was relatively warm.
He leaned against the pack, trying to make himself as comfortable as possible and closed his eyes, willing himself to forget the traumatic events that had transpired earlier in the day. For a blessed moment, he felt the weariness start to claim him. It was always like that when he was in the great outdoors. Sleep did not come unless he was too tired to think of anything else.
Thinking of Akane seldom worked nowadays since he would inevitably end up thinking of Ranma and that would really get him worked up. Just as he was about to slip off into the oblivion of dreamland, he was jolted awake by a single stray thought.
Ukyo's tub!
He wasn't entirely sure why that thought had suddenly invaded his mind, overriding whatever sleep programs the soft, gray organic central processor in his head was beginning to run, but the memory of Ukyo's wrecked bathroom came flashing back to mind.
How will Ukyo bathe with her bathroom in such a state? Again, he didn't know why such a totally irrelevant thought was visiting him at such a time. He dug into his pockets and came up with a small handful for crumpled banknotes. He hoped that he could find more money at home. He did have a pretty modest sum of money at home and though he wasn't sure when was the last time he had found his savings container.
Then again, there was always his savings account. If could find a bank, he'd be able to make the necessary withdrawals. But then it's no point worrying about banks or automated teller machines since I'm stuck on top of a mountain.
Anyway, how's she gonna take a bath? The thought still nagged at him. Then he slapped his forehead. There are public baths, you cretin! So, relieved that he had finally got that problematic thought out of the way, he settled down to sleep. But then, the darker side of him was straying off again, not quite ready to enter the oblivious nothingness of sleep.
Hmmm . . . since we're on the subject of Ukyo in the bath . . . He was appalled at himself for even thinking that way about her. His hands balled into fists, gripping handfuls of the frozen soil. No! She was a friend and yet here he was fantasizing about her.
It was an unpardonable betrayal of her trust! He could imagine her telling him to get his mind out of the gutter, very likely following that demand with the brutal smackdown from her spatula. He willed those unclean thoughts out of his mind, just as he began mentally undressing her but the vision of her remained, dressed in that tube top. Ryochan . . . she called me Ryochan . . .
It was a strangely appealing and familiar feeling. And he was beginning to feel warmer now despite that heavy snow that was starting to fall. He could see her in front him now, a part of his mind told him that none of it was real. But he saw her there, smiling at him as she prepared okonomiyaki for him, snatching those mini-spatulas from her bandolier and working them furiously against her grill. What he would give for one of those delicious treats now . . .
So that was it, he told himself. You're just so hungry now, you're imagining things. He tried to recall if he had any consumables stashed in his backpack, but his mind drew a blank. Besides, the vision of Ukyo was morphing.
And then he saw her in that revealing pink dress again. The gift from Prince Toma. And she was absolutely gorgeous . . . Why hadn't I noticed before? Ryoga wondered, smiling at the vision of beauty before his eyes. Even her ferocity appealed to him, her frequent refusal to embrace her femininity. If I had loved her instead, would I be out here, depressed over Akane? Days lost lamenting lost days? Now that was a really serious question and he felt himself coming awake again despite his best efforts to force himself to sleep. You don't suppose it's too late now . . .?
No, save it. Your life is bad enough as it is now. Don't make it worse. He imagined Akane now, her face appearing next to Ukyo's, the look in her eyes accusing. No, I cannot betray Akane . . .
But she was never yours to begin with. He saw Ranma now, putting an arm around Akane. Give it up Ryoga.
He wanted to scream, lash out at that vision of Ranma, but realized that it was all in the mind. He felt a wave of depression passing through him, its weight crushing. Why can't I ever be happy? The depression had worsened lately and happy thoughts were few and far between. But tonight, he had found one more precious thing that made him happy.
He banished Akane and Ranma from his mind and focused on that smiling okonomiyaki chef. Forgive me, Ukyo . . . I just need to borrow you for my dreams. Just tonight.
She was there, looking down at him now, surrounded by a wreath of flowers in full bloom. A gentle breeze was tugging at her flowing brown hair. He knew that thinking about her this way too often was going to make him fall for her. But he couldn't be bothered with such consequences now. Thinking of her chased the depression away and he found his eyelids getting heavier and heavier as he mind began to wander.
Ryoga wasn't sure when he finally nodded off to sleep. But when he did so, that image of Ukyo still lingered and he had taken it to dreamland with him.
Endnotes: And thus endeth another episode. I'm certainly not going to let Ryoga and Ukyo fall for each other that soon. As you can see, it's going to be a rather drawn out affair since they both obviously still have issues that they must first resolve on their own.
I would also like to thank you people for the reviews which have all certainly been very useful and enlightening. It'll definitely help in creating other the other chapters. I am currently contemplating a format similar to the original manga and animated series. While the first few episodes are all connected, I intend to branch out to other min-plots (ie three-parters similar to the animated series)
In fact, I actually sat down and came up some very rough ideas. I actually came up with close to twenty episodes. Of course, that would change in time to come as I scrutinize each one more carefully.
I'm still pretty amused that I am trying to tell a love story since it's really not my forte. Thanks be to the great forces that have granted me this ability to sustain a story of such nature. No, I don't think I'll credit the Deity of Fanfic Writers Breaking Out of Their Mould for this one.
Well, I hoped you enjoyed this slightly more serious episode. More WILL follow. And yes, as long as this story continues, there will be more cult madness. So until next time, you have my sincerest thanks for your support and readership.
Respectfully submitted,
Alvin