See 1st Chapter for Disclaimer
AN: Well seeing all the positive feedback I got from the 1st side story and the fact that I'm a little writer's blocked in the current RK R1/2 crossover I'm writing I've decided to do another to help get the juices flowing. When I was writing the Revolution Arc I realized that although I showed Tomoe's Ranma's, and Kenshin's actions, I didn't really get their mindsets down very well and although I don't like going back in the storyline and adding something in, this is just one of those things that kind of needs to be there.
So without further a due
Side Story 1: Tides of Change
-The Girl-
"If I'm going to do something, I'm going to be the best at it."
I remember saying that when I was little, I'm not sure when, but I remember the words. It has always been my way of thinking. Even during competitions of when I turned myself into a girl, or whenever faced with something I hated doing, I did it to the best of my ability and beyond because I wanted to be better than everyone else in the field no matter what.
That is true even now. Yet, I take no pride in my latest accomplishment, in fact I hate it.
It is late at night as I lay under the blankets with my body pressed up against that of Tomoe's while she holds me in her arms. She is not asleep either, that much I can tell simply by the steady beating of her heart and the way she breaths through her nose and onto my hair as my head rests against her chest like a pillow.
In her arms I feel safe, loved, cared for, befriended, and a thousand other wonderful feelings that I never experienced before. It is as if while I lay here Tomoe has covered me with a blanket stitched from every pleasant emotion a human can feel.
Funny, a year ago I would have thought of myself as a pervert, here I am sleeping with a woman who has no idea of what I truly am, much the same as Ryoga does with Akane. But, this is nothing like that; unlike the pig I have no attraction to Tomoe whatsoever. I need her protection, nothing more.
Oh, don't get me wrong. Tomoe is beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful person I have ever seen both inside and out. Her long raven black hair that frames her perfect face and then flows down her back never seems to be even one hair out of place, even when I carried her through the inn for the first time she still seemed to carry an unearthly beauty that no one could ever hope to match.
As Tomoe shifts in the bed a little I try not to tense too much from the feel of her body rubbing up against my own. Trying to project my mind elsewhere before my face becomes bright enough to double as a nightlight I try to think of other matters than the woman in my bed.
Katsura is starting to grow a little agitated at the lack of evidence that my investigation is producing.
I hope he doesn't send me out to kill again, I may have Tomoe here to protect me from the after effects of my conscience, but I still don't like it. Although the action itself has taught me some things. Now I think I understand why so many people use weapons to murder others. With a sword all you feel is a quick pull as the blade slices through bones, and cuts the flesh. By using my hands, I can fell every muscle tear, every bone snap, the skin being torn, and my victim's still beating heart stop as I rip it from their bodies with my bloody hand.
Yes, a sword makes murdering people easier in more ways than one.
Then, there is the feeling you get afterwards, I'm not sure, but if I would be forced to name it, the feeling would be…superiority? Imagine a human being, a construct of flesh and bone that took years upon years of hard work and diligence to create, and I destroy it in a matter of moments with a simple gesture and pull of my hand.
Holding down a yawn if shift my body a little and try and move on to more pleasant thoughts than murder.
Like why I'm doing this? To go home I remind myself. But, somehow that doesn't seem to comfort me as it used to early on. The plans of my growing a little more complex with every person I interact with.
Have I really changed so much in just a year? When I think back to how my life used to be and the people I used to know, my opinions of them differ greatly than what I originally thought so much so I wonder if I am remembering them correctly.
First and foremost there is my father, the person who raised me since I was six. At first I thought of him so beneath me because he was always avoiding the issues, or shoving all of his problems onto me without sticking up for himself once. Actually, I think I understand him a little better. While it was very true that he is an idiot that never thinks anything through, it's because during that training trip he did what he had to do to keep us alive.
Second is my mother. I must say that strangely even though I am living in a past time that it seems like there is someone with her traditional values around every corner, my view of her is greatly diminished. I guess it comes from listening to Katsura talk about the new world that he is helping to create. Fighting and killing for a cause that is almost the complete opposite of the 'traditional' values that my mother prizes so much makes them seem less than they were. Oh, I still love my mother, I think I do, but I just do not believe that she should try to force her opinion onto 'Ranko Tendo' or anyone else.
Soun would be next on the list. Him, well I must say that while I didn't respect the man much before my little trip through time, I outright hate him now. He never once seemed to ever stand up for anything, even the subject of the engagement could that made him do his intimidation trick was nothing if someone actually threatened him with physical injury. People who are too afraid to stand up for their opinions or beliefs aren't allowed to have any, and the words of a hypocrite can only fall on deaf ears.
Then there is the 'mother' of the Tendo household: Kasumi. In some ways I respect her, but in others I find the girl as lacking as her father. While she had tried to fill the role of the mother for her sisters by doing the domestic chores, she has forgotten to include the qualities of a real parent such as guidance for the people she takes care of. Looking back as I am now I remember dozens of fights or problems that could have been easily solved with a few kind words from her, but instead she ignored her real duties as a mother in favor of those belonging to a maid. She is jus an empty headed servant, nothing more.
The next in line would be Nabiki: ruthless, cold, cunning, and a real bitch. I have to say I like her. She takes what she needs or wants anyway she can little thought to the other people involved, and uses every trick she knows to get an advantage. Yes, there is something in that girl worth noticing, probably the most promising out of her whole family. Of course now I'd probably just as soon tear her in half if she tried to blackmail me into something rather than obey.
Last would be Akane. Looking back I think I finally understood what I saw in her, acceptance; like what I feel with the woman whose arms I occupy. She was the first to offer me friendship, and even though it was taken away I still clung to that first offer.
God I was such an idiot back then.
How many times did she get in my way for a cure, simply out of spite or her own greed? The three urns for the Japanese Nyannichuan, the Anything Goes Obstacle Course, the three legged spring race, the water proof soap…the list goes on. Every time she stood in my way with her petty feelings of jealousy, opposing me simply because I wasn't getting a cure from her or she wanted to be praised.
With a yawn I try and get as comfortable as I can while continuing to think about my home.
But the more I think about my old Tokyo, the more my urge to go back…decreases, letting something unfamiliar take it's place.
-The Woman-
As the night rolls on I find myself unable to sleep. I know it is not the temperature, I am quite warm, and very comfortable, I just can't seem to sleep.
For quite possibly the hundredth time I wonder why I'm here in Kyoto, in this room. I have no good reason to be here, no real need for the room and board. For the hundredth time I wonder why I do not go back to my family, or at least someplace else and away from here.
I can find no reasons to leave, yet I can think of no good ones to stay either.
Feeling little Sakura-chan relax in my arms I can tell she has finally fallen asleep. Poor girl, even when she smiles I can see that her body still has tension all over. Others may not notice it, but I do. I still wonder what has happened to such a vibrant young girl to make her act like so. But I remain silent for fear of loosing her, even with her strange mannerisms and mother fixation she has directed towards me, Sakura is still my only female companion in this place.
I look down and run my fingers though the child's bright red hair. It's even brighter than his.
Damnit, I'm thinking about him again.
When I came to Kyoto looking for him, I had high expectations. I wanted an honorless murderer who was seven feet tall and brimming with muscle with an evil sneer on his face and red hair that was the color of the fames of hell, soaked in the blood of his victims.
Instead, I got a boy. A boy who had carried me home in the rain and arranged for lodging, a boy who cared for my honor and well-being. A boy with a kind face and compassionate face. But…even a boy can become a murderer. That I know all too clearly.
I know because today when I went into his room and awoke him accidentally, I saw in his amber eyes the madness that lay within there. Those are not the eyes of a boy, or even a human. They are the eyes of a killer, a wild beast that's hungry for its prey.
Yet…even thought I know of him as a killer, and seen him with the eyes of one, whenever the image of Kenshin appears in my mind I think of him with those calm, gentle violet eyes and the small hint of a smile on his face that can not seem to come.
Damnit, I called him by his name again. Why is it so hard for me to think of how he really is? How everyone says he is? He is supposed to be surrounded in death, the Hitokiri Battousai, the man who slays while drawing his sword, even his name revolves around death.
But as much as I try to think of him as the man who killed my fiancée, all I can ever seem to see in my mind is a short boy with red hair on the edge of manhood whose eyes are filled with sadness. I try with all my heart to find a way to hate him as I once did, as the murderer who killed the man I once loved and ruined my life.
Yet the more I try, and the more I think about him, the more my reasons to hate him…decrease, letting something unfamiliar take its place.
Ending AN: Well there you have it, a little peek into Ranma's mind during the revolution. For the OOC you've got to remember that even when he was with Tomoe, Ranma still had a manslayer's mindset, which basically means a lack of caring for all human life. Being with the grown up Tomoe doesn't remove this mindset, it actually helps it along by not letting Ranma have those brief moments of sadness for his actions. It was only after being trained in Fung Shui and seeing the future that Ranma started becoming the permanent cold and merciless killer, before hand he was more like Sojiro Seta during his off hours with Tomoe around.