Disclaimer: Ranma ½ is property of Rumiko Takahashi. I'm just borrowing the characters for this story, which is meant for entertainment purposes only. No profit is being made from it. And blah blah blah.
I know we're headed somewhere
I can see how far we've come
But still I can't remember anything
Let's not do the wrong thing
And I'll swear it might be fun
It's a long way down
When all the knots we've tied have come undone…
~Gin Blossoms, "Anywhere you Go"
In the back room of the Cat Café, Shampoo watched raptly as Cologne poured a final ingredient into the mixture she was stirring. The younger Amazon began to tap her foot impatiently with anticipation as her great-grandmother paused to lean over and inspect the contents of the bowl with a critical eye.
"That should do it," Cologne said, sounding satisfied.
Shampoo stepped forward to take a closer look at the product of the long and delicate procedure they had just completed for the sake of its creation. Her brows knitted with doubt at the sight.
"It look like flour," she stated.
"I assure you, that's the only similarity it shares—it's appearance," Cologne told her patiently.
Shampoo nodded automatically, wondering at the unlikeliness of a fine white powder forming from the odd array of things they'd mixed together. Looking at the ingredients alone, she would've guessed that the potion would turn out to be a gooey green-blue mess.
"How we know this work for sure?" Shampoo asked skeptically. Her grandmother had told her about a memory-restoring powder long ago, but had never explained the details.
"You're looking at the product of two thousand years of Amazon history," Cologne said. "The ancient cure for amnesia. Never fails."
Shampoo eyed the ingredients again. The mixture did contain a lot of the same ones that the memory-restoring shampoo she had did, but… She pushed the thoughts from her mind. There were more important things to think about now.
Cologne carefully poured the powder into a small glass vial, then capped it tightly. "Alright. Now, do you have the plan straight?"
The violet-haired girl nodded vigorously. "Shampoo go to Airen and tell him that Shampoo have way to make Directionless Boy remember everything. Then Shampoo say that if he no want that happen, he break off engagement with Akane and agree to date Shampoo."
"Right," Cologne affirmed with a dry smile. "And from what you've told me, I think it's safe to say that Son-in-Law will do it…well, perhaps not, but he should at least be willing to make some sort of compromise."
"And that bring Shampoo that much closer to marrying Ranma," the younger Amazon added cheerfully. She was about to say something else, but a slight sound from the next room interrupted her attention. "Hmm?" she uttered wonderingly, glancing over her shoulder.
Cologne's eyes narrowed, then she pounced forward on her staff to peer around the corner. Nothing. A mouse, maybe, she'd have to tell Mousse to set a trap when he got back…
"Great-grandmother?"
"Never mind, child," the old matriarch said as she turned back around. She hopped back over to the table and drew another vial from her robe, seemingly identical to the one already sitting there.
"This is what you'll take with you when you go to see Son-in-Law," Cologne continued. "If something goes wrong, this one will have no effect on Ryoga's memory. I'm almost certain that Ranma will try to take it from you rather than agreeing to the terms right-out. Wouldn't want him to get his hands on the real thing, would we?"
Shampoo shook her head, and Cologne handed her the vial. "Be sure not to lose it," the old woman told her. "I will hide this one in case it is needed later."
"For if Ranma no date Shampoo?"
"Yes," Cologne said. "If that's the case, then Son-in-Law will at least think twice about going against us in the future."
"But what if Ranma say he want for Directionless Boy to remember?"
"If that's the case, we simply change the terms," Cologne explained. "If he wants Ryoga to stay memory-less, we'll stick with the original plan and threaten to use the restorer. If he wants Ryoga to remember, we bribe him with it instead. Though from what you've told me, I doubt it will come to that."
The violet-haired girl smiled. "Aiyah, is good." Then she frowned.
"Great-grandmother, what we do if Ranma no want Directionless Boy to remember, and he no get memory back on own?"
"Chances are that Ryoga will regain his memory on his own in time," Cologne answered. "Which is why we must take advantage of the situation quickly."
"But what if that no happen?"
Cologne sighed. Much as she wanted the Amazon laws to be followed, morals would have to come in at some point. "I suppose we'd have to try the cure, eventually," she said. "Heaven knows, that boy has enough problems with a Jusenkyo curse and that sense of direction of his. Wouldn't do any good to let him go wandering around without any recollection of his past forever. But there's no sense in worrying about that unless we need to. And that won't be until after we fix things with Son-in-Law."
Shampoo smiled again. "Is good plan," she said, returning to her usual bubbliness. How lucky it was that they'd been able to get something out of the situation after all, even after that violent tomboy Akane had messed up her original plan while it was still in the making.
Well, no matter about that now, Shampoo thought as she darted off to her room. She had many things to think about before tomorrow…
* * * * * * * * * *
Atop the roof of the Cat Café, a longhaired young man wearing white robes and glasses sat, musing as the sun began its descent beneath the western horizon, tinting the sky with pink and gold.
Yet another plan that would result in his precious Shampoo being taken from him was about to be put into action. Another plan that would allow Ranma Saotome to have her in his evil clutches…
Mousse supposed that maybe he was being overdramatic there. After all, Shampoo was acting on her own free will; and though Mousse was no big fan of Ranma's, even he had to admit that realistically, the Saotome heir hardly seemed to qualify for a ranking in the 'evil' category.
But that was all beside the point. The point was, Shampoo was going to use that powder stuff she and Cologne had concocted to get close to Ranma. And that was the last place Mousse wanted Shampoo to be.
Luckily, he'd gotten back from his deliveries earlier than was expected, which had given him opportunity to see and hear things which he was quite sure he hadn't been intended to see or hear. It was a shame that he'd bumped into the chair—curse his lousy vision—while sneaking over for a closer look at what was happening in the back room, but at least he'd gotten the important parts. And at least he'd managed to get out of sight before Cologne had caught him eavesdropping.
Now Mousse knew what the powder looked like, and what Shampoo was going to do with it.
Or at least, Mousse was pretty sure he knew. He had missed out on the last few minutes of conversation between his beloved Shampoo and the Old Ghoul as he fled for a hiding place…but never mind. He'd learned enough about the plan for tomorrow.
Plenty to foil it, anyway.
Now, Mousse just had to wait…
* * * * * * * * * *
Crack.
Ranma flicked a bead of sweat from his bangs as he watched the wooden post he'd been using as a target fly across the yard. They seemed to break so easily these days…
The pigtailed boy glanced up at the sky for a moment, noting that it was nearing sunset. He picked up his towel from where he'd left it in the grass and went to retrieve the broken post. He'd have to pull the rest of it out of the ground and get a new one from the shed later he reflected, leaning the remains of this last one against the side of the building.
Ranma walked over to the dojo door, which was slightly ajar. He could hear Akane pounding away at something inside, a signal that Ryoga had probably vacated the area. He frowned slightly as he wandered around the side of the building, wondering where the other boy had gone.
If he hadn't been specifically looking, Ranma probably would've missed him at first glance. The Lost Boy was sitting beside the wooden bird feeder, nearly underneath it, his knees tucked up against his chest. The sight made Ranma immediately nervous. "Ryoga?" he said, his expression shifting to one of concern as he went to kneel in front of him. "You alright? What's wrong?"
Ryoga glanced up at him, his brown-gray eyes reflecting goldenly from the low sun as its light pooled in the threatening tears within them. "I…I don't understand it…" he said.
Ranma took in a sharp breath, his insides going suddenly cold. He knows, his thoughts wailed in dismay. I waited too long…
"You…you remember?" Ranma asked finally, his voice sinking to just above a whisper. This was it…
But Ryoga shook his head. "That's just it," he said. "I don't…but I don't know why." His shoulders trembled slightly, and he glanced away, searching for words. "How can I not remember?"
Ranma sat back slightly, any relief he might've felt immediately washed away by guilt. "Ryoga…you got hurt. It—it ain't you, it's just the amnesia…"
The Lost Boy shook his head again. "It doesn't matter," he said. "How can I not remember anything?"
Ranma tipped his head. "But you do. You remembered your name, and where you live—"
"No," Ryoga protested. "I don't. I…it's like I have a few pieces of things, but they don't mean anything. I know how to fight, but I don't know how I learned it. I know my name, but I don't know where it came from. I know I lived someplace, but I don't know what it looks like, or where it is. I know I have parents, but…it's like there's just two people, they…they don't have any faces..." He looked away, his voice beginning to break. "I don't know who they are," he said miserably. "I don't even know who I really am…"
Ranma gazed at him, unsure of what to say. He'd been so preoccupied with the problem of keeping the recent past a secret that he hadn't even considered the other parts of Ryoga's life up to this point. Ryoga had voiced hardly any questions concerning himself the past few days, and Ranma hadn't offered much. Only now did it occur to him that he'd been letting Ryoga live on whatever assumptions the Lost Boy was coming up with—he didn't know that his 'home' was technically here and that his house was actually just on the other side of town, or that his parents probably weren't there but were likely as lost as he usually was. And Ranma had let himself believe that there was nothing wrong with the entire situation, instead of realizing that on some level, whether he was showing it or not, Ryoga was frightened and confused…and lost.
The blue-eyed boy swallowed hard. "Ryoga, look. You'll remember. You heard what the doctor said, right?" The other boy lifted his head to look at him, and Ranma tried to smile, but failed completely. "You'll get your memory back," he continued. "It just…it'll take some time, is all. Yeah, you just need time."
Ryoga turned away and wiped at his eyes. "You really think so?"
"Y-yeah," Ranma said. "You'll get it back. I'll…I'll help you remember…"
Ryoga turned back to him. "You will?"
Ranma nodded, trying to will away the constricted feeling in his throat as Ryoga looked at him with hopeful eyes. "Sure I will," he managed.
Just like I've been doing all along…
Ranma struggled to force the thought away. He'd figure something out later…
* * * * * * * * * *
Shielded by the soft, velvet darkness of deep night, a lone figure stole into the kitchen of the Cat Café.
Moving almost silently, Mousse began his search. The vial Cologne had put the memory powder in had been small, made out of glass.
And Mousse had seen dozens of similar vials dozens of times before.
The young Amazon made his way stealthily over to the large spice rack mounted in the corner. He pulled a small penlight from one of his sleeves and shone it down on the multitude of little jars, filled with things as common as black pepper and tempura to far more exotic items. Mousse spotted one containing something pale near the middle.
Perfect.
This one looked identical to the one Cologne had given Shampoo. It was even filled with something fine and white. Mousse almost smiled. He wouldn't have to waste time refilling it with flour, not when this was such an ideal match.
The longhaired young man carefully memorized the vial's location amidst the others, then removed it, making it vanish into his sleeve.
The next part would be a bit trickier.
Still moving quietly, Mousse stole back up the stairs. Once at the top, he paused, listening.
Not a sound, other than the soft breaths his beautiful love was emitting as she slept.
Then Mousse noticed that the door to Shampoo's bedroom was cracked open. He could hardly believe his luck this night. No fumbling with noisy doorknobs…
Not wanting to jinx himself, Mousse waited for several moments, making sure that nothing was amiss and calming himself before entering. He couldn't let himself be distracted by Shampoo, and he had to be absolutely silent. If he woke her by being clumsy, all his trouble would be for naught.
And there'd be hell to pay.
He placed a careful hand on the door, then pushed gently. It opened silently, and he congratulated himself on thinking to oil the hinges earlier. As soon as he had the space he needed, Mousse slipped inside.
He gave himself a moment to let his eyes adjust to the different lighting, holding his breath as his gaze flitted to the sleeping girl in the bed. She was so beautiful…
All the more reason to do this right and hinder the chances of her ending up with that wretched Saotome. Mousse forced himself to look away, settling his eyes on the nightstand instead. Right there, in plain sight, was what he sought.
Fighting his nervousness, Mousse made his way over to the nightstand, trying to keep his steps light and his pace slow. It wouldn't do at all to have something go wrong now.
Mousse paused, trying to still his shaking hand. What if something did go wrong? What if somehow, Shampoo or the Old Mummy would know what had happened, that the real vial had been replaced by a fake? What if-
Stop it, Mousse chided himself. Do this, or risk losing Shampoo to Saotome yet again.
The thought hardened his resolve. Without further hesitation, the Amazon boy reached out and took the vial. With his other hand, he placed the purloined spice in its place.
It looked as though nothing had been touched.
Of course, his vision was so damn lousy, it could very well look different to Shampoo once morning rolled around…
Mousse gritted his teeth and turned back to the door. He was nearly finished; this was no time to back out.
Somehow, he managed to make his way back out into the hall, being sure to close Shampoo's door just as he'd found it. Still forcing himself to be cautious, Mousse made it back down to the kitchen and over to the rack. Once there, he took out the vial he'd taken from Shampoo's bedroom and placed it carefully in the empty space where spice had been.
Mousse left the kitchen, excitement welling in him. He'd done it! Foiled the Old Crone's plans! He rejoiced silently as he made his way to his own room.
It had been almost too easy, Mousse reflected as he drifted off to sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
The moon was reaching its zenith in the night sky, casting its silver-white glow over the rooftops as it rose. Ranma watched it through the window as he stared out, his mind wandering restlessly.
He couldn't keep this up forever. Akane was already angry, Ukyo was suspicious, and who knew what the Amazons were up to. Something was bound to happen sooner or later, and Ranma had been pushing the later part all along.
And…Ryoga deserved to have his memory back. Ranma had no right to try and keep it from him just because it made his own life easier. He often longed to have done things differently with many of the people in his life; to wipe the slate clean and start all over—Ryoga included.
The Lost Boy was one he'd botched from the very start. Ranma had succeeded in getting his attention by taking the bread back when they'd been in school together, but he hadn't counted on it to arouse the immediate distrust and anger in the already-serious Ryoga. Beset upon by most of their classmates and frequently teased as he was, the reaction didn't seem so surprising in retrospect, especially given that the social skills of both boys had been rudimentary as a result of their unorthodox lifestyles.
Ranma had really meant it as a game, but Ryoga hadn't understood it that way. He'd only seen yet another person teasing him, despite the fact that Ranma hadn't intended it to be malicious. Of course, that hadn't deterred the pigtailed boy in the least—on the contrary, it had made him even more persistent. Too intrigued by another martial-artist to simply forget about it, he'd walked to and from school with him practically every day once he found out that it was the only sure way for Ryoga to make it to either location. He'd hung around him when the other boys bored him, which happened often, and Ryoga gave him plenty of opportunity to talk since the Lost Boy barely said anything himself. When he did, it was usually a minor outburst of anger over the bread or whatever other infractions Ryoga had identified Ranma as responsible for—which Ranma had repeatedly ignored, knowing that once Ryoga had finished a particular tirade, he would calm down. After weeks and weeks of the same, Ryoga had finally begun to express a sort of tenuous tolerance, if not outright warmth, towards the other boy. Ranma had been certain that the arranged duel would let Ryoga settle any lingering differences.
Unfortunately, the arranged fight had never taken place.
Ryoga had gotten lost, and Ranma's father had suddenly decided they were going to China.
He hadn't even gotten to say goodbye.
Then, years later, Ryoga had reappeared, his anger grown so much that Ranma hadn't even been able to recognize him as the first person he'd considered a friend since Ukyo. And sometimes, things hardly seemed to have improved much from there.
But now, Ranma had finally gotten his chance. The slate was nonexistent.
And he was completely screwing it up again. How was he going to explain everything when Ryoga got his memory back? Ranma knew he should do it now, and stop putting off the inevitable before things got really tangled up, but he couldn't help being reluctant to give up a non-angry-with-him Ryoga. These days, it seemed that even the people who were supposed to like him got pissed on a regular basis, even Shampoo. Now, there was someone who wasn't constantly criticizing him or expecting something half-impossible from him. He knew it was selfish, but how could he just let that go?
And it wasn't only that. Aside from the fear and anxiety produced by the amnesia, the Lost Boy had been far less melancholy and angry than Ranma had seen him in a long time. It made sense, he supposed—Ryoga didn't know of the hard life he'd experienced, didn't know about the fights and schemes he'd been involved in, the teasing and ridicule he'd been through, the pain of having an absentee family and generally homeless existence, the things that he'd had to endure because of his curse and sense of direction, the crush on Akane that seemed to hurt him more than anything else…all of it had disappeared for him. And so long as Ryoga was distracted from the fact that he had amnesia…
He seemed almost…happy…
But if Ranma told him the truth about it all…he'd be taking that away from him, too.
Yet at the same time, each moment that Ryoga wasn't distracted from the amnesia, he was upset; wondering about everything he'd forgotten. The previous afternoon had showed that clearly enough. Ranma suspected that Ryoga was imagining his life had been something worth remembering—probably a happy childhood, a safe home, a loving family and friends…the sort of things people wanted to believe their lives included. Unfortunately, Ranma knew that Ryoga's life fell short on almost all of those things. After all, that Shi-shi Hokodan sure as hell wasn't the product of a rose garden.
Ranma heaved a sigh and turned away from the window. Stuck between a rock and hard place again. And as usual, he couldn't think of a good way to get out of it without breaking everything around him to pieces. But maybe…maybe he could afford to put it off at least a little longer. Ryoga hadn't been that upset, and he could ward off the other for a few more days…
He started to head down the hall, figuring that with his luck Akane would run into him and accuse him of something ridiculous. He'd only gone a few steps before a sound made him stop short. He tipped his head, listening.
It sounded like someone was…crying?
Ranma strained to hear. The acoustics in the hall weren't very good, and it was difficult to pinpoint where it was coming from. He went to Akane's door, expecting it to be her, but once there, he discovered only silence coming from the other side.
That was strange. Ranma padded back down the hall, a slight frown across his features. Who else could it be…?
Then, it was gone.
Ranma frowned, turning this way and that to see if it would start again, but the house had returned to its former velvety silence.
That's weird, he thought. All of the girls' doors were shut tight, which meant that except for fairly loud sounds, he shouldn't be able to hear any noise from within. Besides that, he was closest to the bedroom he shared with his father; who for once, Ranma noticed as he stepped around him and went to lie down, wasn't snoring raucously.
Then he remembered he'd left the door partially open when he'd gone out to the hall.
Ranma blinked and turned to the mat Kasumi had set up next to his own. "Ryoga?" he whispered. But the other boy lay facing away from him, and remained still.