Disclaimer: Ranma ½ belongs to Rumiko Takahashi, Fuji TV, Kitty Films, and Shogakukan. Not me. I'm just borrowing it.
Warning : *takes an experimental lick* Yep, still angsty.
Who am I
To need you when I'm down?
And where are you
When I need you around?
Your life is not your own
And all I ask you
Is for another chance
Another way around you
To live by circumstance
Once again…
~Smashing Pumpkins, "Crestfallen"
The sky overhead had darkened to a velvety black while the small hours of the morning crept in. Silence, but for the occasional wind that swept around buildings and sent leaves skittering through the streets, prevailed as the crisp night wore on, unnoticed by the slumbering world.
Ranma had started to take the quiet for granted, the only things he heard were the dull sound of his footfalls on the sidewalk and his own thoughts. His energy was waning, as was his formerly-iron resolve. He felt like he knew every inch of the town as intimately as if he'd been confined to it his entire life—corners, alleys, yards, driveways, rooftops, gardens, doorways, empty lots—he'd searched all of it up and down. And, much to his dismay and frustration, he hadn't found any sign of Ryoga anywhere.
Despite his insistent denial, the former nervousness Ranma had experienced as to the Lost Boy's whereabouts was deepening towards an uneasy anxiety. Ryoga could take care of himself, but that general statement no longer seemed to hold the reassurance it had before when situations had taken unexpected turns and Ranma had been uncertain as to the Lost Boy's state upon departure. This time, Ryoga was without his pack, was still recovering from a concussion, was likely dwelling in shock over the suddenness of his memory returning, had his mind full of the misconception that the girl he loved despised him, and heaven knew what else.
Maybe he found someplace to hole up for the night, Ranma thought, attempting to rationalize in a way that would help still the concern stirring within him. That seemed reasonable, Ryoga was resourceful and knew that shelter was important…
Yeah, it's probably his number one priority. Ain't like he won't be thinking clearly or anything, after what happened.
"He'll be fine…" Ranma said to himself.
Maybe not. Maybe he's already lost in the woods. He doesn't have anything but the clothes he's wearing, the first rainstorm and he'll be a walking meal ticket for anything with teeth…
"No, dammit!" Ranma shouted. His voice shattered the soft silence of the night into almost tangible pieces as he slammed his fist into the lamp-lit pavement at his feet, creating a tiny crater complete with a perfect lacing of spider-web cracks spreading from its center.
"Damn," Ranma groaned under his breath. This shouldn't be affecting him so much, it was just Ryoga… He rocked back on his heels and rubbed his eyes with one hand. Frustration and exhaustion didn't mix well with guilt, and his self-control was quickly weakening under it.
Ranma took a deep breath and glanced across the street. It was a familiar sight—Ukyo's restaurant, but the windows were darkened, and an apologetic closed sign was on the door. The blue-eyed boy sighed. The scene reminded him that everyone was at the least annoyed with him, if not outright furious.
Ranma rose from his crouched position on the sidewalk, unsure of whether he should give up and go home or keep looking. Then he noticed light coming from windows on the second floor, and wondered if it meant Ukyo was awake. Ranma pushed himself to his feet. Either something was happening, or she was sleeping with the lights on. He crossed the street and went to the back door, but hesitated for a brief moment before knocking. Deciding she was already aggravated anyway, he went ahead and rapped on the dark-colored wood a few times.
Several minutes passed, and he was about to turn around and leave when Ukyo finally opened the door. "Ucchan. You're awake," Ranma said. She looked almost as tired as he felt. "I, uh…I saw your lights were on," he explained.
"What are you doing out here at this time of night?" Ukyo asked him. Then she realized it was actually very close to dawn; the sky was beginning to lighten, and only the brighter stars were still visible.
Ranma fidgeted. "I was looking for Ryoga," he admitted. "I know everyone already tried to find him, but he don't even…I mean, he's not…" He trailed off, somewhat flustered by the effort to explain his actions while keeping his pride intact.
Ukyo sighed and raised a hand to her forehead. "Don't worry," she said resignedly. "He's here."
The blue-eyed boy blinked in surprise. "He's…he's here? You found him?"
Ukyo nodded hesitantly. "He was down by the river…I found him after we'd all split up for the night."
"Is he alright?" Ranma asked, a little breathlessly.
"Of course he's not alright!" Ukyo snapped, and Ranma jerked back reflexively. She saw his reaction and sighed again. "Look, Ranma-honey, this really isn't a good time."
"No kidding," Ranma replied, running a hand through his bangs. "I really gotta talk to him."
Ukyo's expression grew exasperated. "Ranchan, you can't. He's asleep, and even if he wasn't, he doesn't want to talk to anyone." She felt bad for denying him something, but she was almost certain that to give in would only produce further disaster. For one thing, Ryoga would probably never forgive her.
Now it was Ranma's turn to sigh. He didn't like having to wait on something that was pressing him so, but it was late—early, actually—and he was feeling too strung out to argue. He'd have to settle for knowing that Ryoga had been found.
"Fine," he said. "Whatever. I'll see you later."
Ukyo blinked. "Uh…Ok." She stepped back and closed the door as the pigtailed boy turned away.
Ranma rubbed his eyes with one hand again as he headed back towards the dojo. He felt strangely tense, as though something within him was coiled like a spring that might break loose any moment, but he was too tired to try figuring out what it meant. He was also preoccupied with the knowledge that although Ukyo had found Ryoga, this was far from over.
*
Akane stood by her window and blinked at the bright morning sun as it streamed through the clear glass panes. Normally she liked waking up to a new a day, especially when it was sunny and blue-skied. But today, she couldn't will her usual smile to her face, in spite of fair weather.
The shorthaired girl turned away from the window, intending to make her bed. But instead of pulling up the sheets, she rested a hand on her yellow pillow and sighed.
The past week seemed almost unreal. Ryoga's amnesia, the way Ranma had been acting, finding out about P-chan…it was so much to sort through. That was enough as it was, but then Shampoo had come along with her 'miracle cure', and Ryoga had run from them all…
Akane bit her lip and sank back onto the mattress, remembering those last few moments. Ryoga had looked so hurt. She closed her eyes, feeling guilt well inside her. How could she have thought for even an instant that Ryoga had kept his secret from her to be mean? Obviously there were a lot of things they would have to work out, and there were a lot of things that still had her confused, but it was a relief to know that her first suspicions were untrue. Given what she'd discovered in the meantime, she felt rather bad for having had them in the first place. She was also surprised she hadn't figured it out sooner, despite the frequent chaos in her life.
Even so, she still felt a stirring of anger towards the Lost Boy. He'd always seemed so honest…then again, the whole 'P-chan' situation couldn't really be classified as an actual lie, it wasn't as though she'd ever gone up to Ryoga and asked if he was P-chan or anything. But by not saying anything at all, it was almost a lie. Akane could understand him maybe wanting to keep his curse a secret in general at the very beginning; it didn't seem like one of those things you'd want a lot of people to know about. But they'd become friends.
So for heaven's sake, why didn't the boy just tell her? He hadn't really caused any harm, and it wasn't like she would've gotten mad or anything…
But that's what I did, Akane realized. When he did tell me, that's exactly what I did. I yelled and shouted and hit him. He probably thinks I hate him now, what else could he possibly think? He probably guessed how I'd react, no wonder he didn't say anything. Even if he'd wanted to tell me, he was probably too afraid to actually do it because he knew something like this would happen…
Akane shook her head, fighting back tears. Was that it? Was she so terrible that he'd been afraid to tell her, afraid because he thought there was no possibility that she would understand? No one wanted to be hated, and Ryoga hardly had anyone as it was.
That thought hurt more than the deception itself. One of her close friends, and he perceived her as capable of being unforgiving and hateful. She supposed that, given the situation, anyone could be afraid that someone might become that way…but it was still painful to accept.
Akane wiped at her eyes. This was all so confusing. She couldn't handle it all at once; it was far too complex for that. She had to talk to Ranma and Ryoga, and make them explain about Ryoga's curse. She had to consider this most recent development in her relationship with the Lost Boy, and try to organize her thoughts and feelings on that. She had to talk to him, to come to terms with her anger and the hurt she was feeling, but she also had to make it clear that she didn't hate him and that she'd try to understand. But all those things were secondary. Right now, what she needed to do the most was to help him through the ordeal he must be going through. In a way, she supposed she'd deceived him as well—she hadn't told him the truth anymore than Ranma had, hadn't even tried until it was too late. Instead of acting like a true friend, she'd let her annoyance and jealousy get in the way, and now he was hurting. She had to fix this…
Of course, that would be a lot easier to do if she knew where he was.
Akane stood up resolutely. She had to find him.
*
Ukyo sighed as she scraped another plateful of untouched okonomiyaki into the trashcan. She hadn't slept very much the night before—she'd been too preoccupied with worrying that Ryoga might try to slip out while she was off in her own personal dreamland. He hadn't, fortunately, but he obviously wasn't any better off this morning. He'd taken a shower before really letting Ukyo get a good look at him, but it was still clear that he'd spent much of the remainder of the night awake. He'd also insisted he wasn't hungry again, and she'd insisted that he try to eat something again. At least he'd managed to pick up the chopsticks before making a mad dash for the bathroom this time. With any luck, she'd be able to get a mouthful in him by dinner.
The semi-sarcastic thought did little to cheer Ukyo up. She was getting a bad feeling that this was going to be even more serious than she'd originally counted on. This physical reaction to what had happened the previous day was making her nervous, but Ryoga was even less talkative this morning than he'd been last night. She also knew he was wondering why she was even bothering—after all, he'd just taken an involuntary refresher course on all the times she'd hit him, insulted him, and tangled him up in some self-serving plot or another. Ukyo had a feeling he was probably a touch more jaded now than he'd been before losing his memory. To him, her present concern probably seemed petty at best.
The truth was that she really was concerned, not just because of the situation, but also because—much as she didn't want to admit it—she did consider him a friend. Despite being stubborn, naïve, and irritating on due occasion, Ryoga was probably one of the nicer people she'd run across in her life. It was only now that she was realizing that she'd taken advantage of that in all the wrong ways.
Ukyo set the plate in the sink and went to the living room. Ryoga was sitting where she'd left him, his knees drawn against his chest. He was dressed in his own clothes again, but the paleness of his face and the way he was leaning, slumped sideways against the front of the couch, made him seem distinctly unlike himself. He looked drained, wilted even, with no visible sign of his usual strength.
It was upsetting to see him like this, but Ukyo was determined not to show distress while he was in this condition. She knelt down beside him. "Do you feel any better, Sugar?" she asked him carefully. She knew it was a ridiculous question, but she had to start somewhere. "I really think you should try to eat again. I could make some rice or something, maybe it won't upset your stomach."
Ryoga continued to stare at the carpet. "No," he said.
Ukyo continued to look at him. "Are you sure?" she prodded gently. Ryoga remained still for a moment, then squeezed his eyes shut and nodded.
"Alright," Ukyo said. She wondered if she could convince him to lie down. If she couldn't get him to eat, maybe she could at least get him to sleep some more. Ukyo looked at him for a long moment before speaking again. "Ryoga-honey," she said finally, "I have to tell everyone you're here. If I don't let them know, they'll just get more worked up." Ryoga didn't reply, but simply closed his eyes again, his expression pained. Ukyo saw his shoulders tremble, and realized that he was on the verge of losing it.
"Hey, it doesn't mean you have to talk to anyone or anything," she added quickly. He still didn't respond, leaving Ukyo at something of a loss. She couldn't really know the full extent of what he was going through, and he didn't seem keen on enlightening her. But she couldn't just let him stay like this.
"Ryoga," Ukyo said. "Why don't you tell me what's wrong?"
Ryoga opened his eyes, their normal deep hazel color appearing dulled. "What's wrong?" he said, his voice faint. "I remembered…that's what's wrong."
"Why is that wrong?" Ukyo asked gently.
The Lost Boy swallowed hard and looked away. "Because it just is."
Ukyo regarded him carefully, her blue eyes compassionate. "Look, if this is over Akane, you don't have to worry. She doesn't hate you or anything. I don't think she's mad really, even."
"R-right," Ryoga stammered bitterly.
"I mean it," Ukyo said. "She was the first to want to find you." She saw him clench his fists, and regretted bringing up the subject of the other girl. "Sugar, I understand that you're upset over what happened, and-"
"That's not it!" Ryoga interrupted, his voice raw. "This might be news to you, but my life didn't start when Ranma came back here! And I didn't just forget what's happened since then! I forgot damn near everything! Everything! When I woke up, the only thing I knew for sure was my name. Anything else was just a blur…I thought that the things I'd forgotten were things I'd want remember, but it didn't work out that way!"
Ukyo blinked, startled by both the sudden outburst and his words. "But…you can't mean that …you wouldn't want to remember?"
"Yes!" Ryoga cried. His eyes brightened with unshed tears. "Don't you get it? I forgot about the curse, I forgot about getting lost! I forgot about my family! I forgot about Akane and Ranma and everyone else here! I forgot about being alone all the time!" He turned away. "I forgot…" he whispered. "I forgot that I hate my life…"
Ukyo stared at him, her expression one of sheer astonishment. "Ryoga…" she breathed. "You don't…you don't mean that. It can't all have been bad, at least not before the curse…?"
Ryoga glanced up at her again. "I didn't have what you would call a happy childhood, Ukyo," he told her. He lowered his eyes, staring at a spot of nothingness. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be six, and to have your parents walk out the door without you and not come back for two months? Or to be lost in the middle of a city, at night, when you're only nine?" Ukyo stayed silent. "I do," Ryoga continued. "I tried hard not to think about things like that before, and I guess it almost made it seem like they never happened, after a while. But now I know they did…"
Ukyo looked at him silently for a few moments, uncertain as to what she should say. "Ryoga…" she began tentatively, "listen to me. I know it must be hard right now, and I wish Ranma hadn't done what he did. But I…I want to help you. I should've said something before, I know, and I-"
"Stop it," Ryoga interrupted her. His whole body was tensed, his voice strained. "Just stop it, I don't want to hear it."
Ukyo stared at him, first confused, then angry. She managed to swallow back the words that immediately came to mind—something along the lines of 'I was just trying to help, you jackass' probably wouldn't go over so well at the present moment. Then she realized she felt hurt, too. It wasn't like him to reject her so flatly and with such disregard.
He's worse off than you are, her conscience informed her. All things considered, was it really any surprise that he didn't want to hear some half-sincere excuses and attempts at apology? Ukyo sighed inwardly, and instead of swearing at him, she managed a quiet "Ok," then climbed to her feet.
Ukyo left him in the living room and meandered down the hall and back into the kitchen, unsure of what to do. She'd have to talk to Shampoo soon, and make the hussy tell her exactly what the hell that powder of hers had done. It was her fault Ryoga was like this, hers and that obsessive bird-brained suitor that played her shadow—if they hadn't come along and screwed things up, Ukyo was sure Ryoga wouldn't be taking this so hard. Ranma said he'd been about to confess before they'd shown up; maybe if he'd been able to do that, the shock of it all wouldn't have been so bad…
A sudden knocking at the door jolted her from her thoughts. She jumped slightly, not expecting it, then ran down the steps to see who it was.
"Oh, Akane. Hi."
"Hi," the other girl said, a little breathlessly. "I was going to go look for Ryoga again, will you come with me?"
"I was—what are you doing with that?" Ukyo asked, noticing the brown backpack lying at Akane's feet.
Akane followed the other girl's gaze. "Oh. Ranma insisted that I take it when I left. I don't know why-"
"He didn't tell you?" Ukyo said.
Akane blinked. "Tell me what?"
"There's no need to look. Ryoga's here."
Akane's eyes widened in surprise. "He's here?"
"Yes," Ukyo sighed. "I found him last night, after everyone went home. I'm sorry I didn't call then, but it was late. Then Ranchan showed up, and I figured he would tell you…"
"Oh, I'm so glad you found him," Akane said, her voice full of relief. "Is he Ok?"
Ukyo pushed some of her hair over her shoulder. "He's…well, no," she said finally. "I mean, he's Ok, but he's…upset."
The relief in Akane's eyes was washed away by fresh concern. "I can understand that," she said. She remembered how her last interaction with Ryoga had gone. "I guess that means he… probably doesn't want to see me…"
Ukyo rushed to clarify things. "No, it's—it's not like that, it's just…I mean, I don't think it's really personal at this point, you know? Well, I guess it is, but not…it's not like it's just you, it's everything." She sighed again. "Look, I just…let me try to smooth things over a little more, Ok?"
Akane nodded, though her expression remained morose. "I understand," she said. "Just…if he brings it up or anything, could you tell him that I don't…I mean, I'm not…"
"You're not mad?" Ukyo suggested.
Akane frowned. "I guess I am, but it's not for what he probably thinks. I just wish he'd told me before is all. It's not even the curse thing, not really, you know? It's more like…the principle of it."
"Yeah, I gotcha," Ukyo said, smiling slightly. "I know it must've been a shock in the beginning, but I thought you'd understand." Then her expression grew serious again. "Do you think you could tell the…others that he's here?"
"Sure, I guess," Akane replied. She picked up Ryoga's pack and handed it to Ukyo. "I'd like to know what was going on with that powder Shampoo had, anyway." She glanced back up and blinked, and Ukyo realized a scowl had slid onto her own face. "I guess you'd like to know too, huh?" Akane asked.
"Let's just say I'm more than curious." Ukyo replied tightly.
Akane tipped her head to the side. "I'll let you know what we find out. I'll see you later, Ok?"
"Yeah. Bye, Akane," Ukyo answered, stepping back to shut the door. She went back up the stairs, and decided to see how Ryoga was faring.
She found him still sitting by the couch, but his eyes were closed and he was leaning against it more heavily than he had been before. "Sugar?" she said questioningly. He didn't open his eyes. Relieved that he was asleep again, Ukyo got a blanket from her bedroom and tucked it around his shoulders. Then she returned to the kitchen to think and wait.
*
Atop the roof of the Tendo Dojo, Ranma again sat brooding over recent events. Akane had left late in the morning, presumably to go look for Ryoga again. Ranma had told her to take Ryoga's pack with her, even though she hadn't said anything to him about where she was going. He wasn't all that surprised—no one had been saying much of anything to him of late. Even his father had remained in panda form this morning, apparently deciding that the television set was more called for than their regular spar, and Kasumi's usual cheerful greeting as he'd entered the family room had sounded a little strained behind her smile.
Being avoided was worse than being confronted, Ranma had decided, but he wasn't about to try and attract their attention. He had a feeling that sooner or later, something was going to break—he wasn't sure what, but he could sense that a change was coming. The underlying tensions between himself and many of the others were growing thin, and things that had always been glossed over in the past were not going to remain that way for much longer.
The blue-eyed boy rocked backwards slightly, stretching the muscles in his tensed shoulders. He felt a cold, heavy knot of negativity in his stomach, and he wondered fleetingly if he'd be able to do a Shi-shi Hokodan. Not one of Ryoga's caliber, of course, but maybe something more than the fizzles and minor bursts that were the most he'd been able to do back when he'd been trying to learn the technique himself.
Ranma's thoughts immediately drifted back to that period in time. It had resulted in another one of his all-outs with Ryoga, and he counted it as a victory on his part…but in reality, he knew it had been a feeble one at best. He remembered how furious he'd been with the Lost Boy throughout much of it, and felt his stomach turn. Ryoga hadn't really done anything wrong even, he'd simply learned a new technique. He'd even been willing to show it to him, instead of diving right into a defined battle as one of his other rivals might have. Yet Ranma hadn't been able to take it, just because Ryoga had beaten him while practicing. He'd acted like a spoiled child, demanding to have it performed for him again and again, then resorted to lies and deception in an attempt to essentially steal Ryoga's move. Adapting it into the Moko Takabisha was a more acceptable maneuver, but that hadn't worked so well once the real battle began. So what had he done? Again, resorted to lies, using petty words to win instead of honest skill. Knowing that he was helping to push another human being into a despair so deep that it took away the will to live. Purposely doing so, just because he couldn't stand to lose. These hadn't been the actions of an honorable martial artist, they had been the pathetic efforts of a coward who placed pride above all, even at the possible expense of others. Survival at all cost—it might be a tenet of the School, but that was meant for true combat, when fighting an enemy who meant to kill or do serious harm, not for a match against a familiar rival and friend. Ryoga had deserved the victory more than he had, but instead of letting the Lost Boy have a chance to gain an ounce of self-confidence, Ranma had done all he could to prevent it. And for what? What had been at stake for him? Pride? Pride he shouldn't have even felt, considering what he'd done to avoid defeat? Pride that could've easily been restored through a rematch that Ryoga would have been almost certain to agree to after Ranma had perfected a counter-move? Pride, like that which Ryoga had given up in order to help him learn the Hiryu Shoten-hah? Was that all?
It had been, at least at those times. The Shi-shi Hokodan, the Breaking Point…he'd used cheap tricks, like those he so ridiculed his father for using. How hypocritical had it been of him to let so much of what he detested in Genma Saotome to rub off on himself? And yet Ryoga had accepted it all, considered the outcomes as defeats and gone off to train so he could try again later, almost always keeping it fair. That was why he refused to fight Ranma when the pigtailed boy was under the influence of Happosai's moxibustion, and had refused to accept victory when he had the Mark of the Gods—it had been unfair. Ranma hadn't bothered to return the civility. He'd been taught that honor existed under a different set of terms—mainly winning. Therefore, it was really no surprise that he judged himself almost solely in terms of just that. Too much exposure to this system of values during his younger years had left it firmly ingrained in him, and although Ranma knew it was foolish to put so much stock in one single, albeit major, facet of his life, he couldn't shake the idea. It didn't help any that those around him judged mostly on that basis as well, which only served to further reinforce the concept that he was only worth what he won—what he won, and how many girls he had chasing after him at any given time.
Ranma heaved a sigh. It didn't make any difference in the current situation. To try and explain any of this to Ryoga would only add to the overall point that he'd made the Lost Boy a victim of his own insecurities. That was what it all really came down to, he supposed. Admitting to anyone that he had such insecurities wasn't going to be easy, trying to convincingly explain it as his reason for doing what he'd done when Ryoga had lost his memory was going to be a near-impossibility. If he got the chance to talk to Ryoga, he was going to have to make it good. Ranma figured he was only going to have one shot at this.
Of course, it would probably help if he wasn't going up against one of the more impossible people in the world. Ranma gritted his teeth. If Ryoga didn't always have to think the absolute worst of him, this wouldn't be nearly as touchy a situation as it currently was. The damn idiot was almost as bad as Akane—always assuming, always blaming, never giving Ranma a chance to explain anything. Ranma knew that Ryoga had missed out on a lot of the social and emotional training that most people took for granted, but it was still frustrating to deal with someone who never lightened the hell up. The blue-eyed boy scowled slightly. If Ryoga considered half the things that had happened between them as the accidents that they were instead of taking everything so damn personally… There had been many a time during the Lost Boy's offended tirades when Ranma had resisted the urge to smack him and say "Shut the hell up and listen!" All that stopped him was the knowledge that it probably wouldn't do any good—usually, once Ryoga had his mind set on something, it was practically carved in stone.
"Jerk," Ranma muttered under his breath. "Goddamn jerk…" His frown deepened, though he knew he wasn't exactly being fair. Resentment towards the wandering martial artist wasn't likely to help anyway. Still, he wondered what could even come of it all. At best, what did he have to gain? Ryoga, back to the way he normally was—angry with him all the time, constantly wanting to fight and thinking Ranma was a jerk and a pervert?
Ranma was surprised to feel the sharp stab of hurt that the notion carried with it. It had only been a week, but even those few short days had been enough time for him to realize how much he needed someone to listen to him. Someone who wanted to be around him just for who he was. Someone who valued him for something more than his strength and skill. Someone who he could talk to without having to censor himself. Someone who at least made an attempt to understand…
Ranma thought of Akane, always surrounded by her sisters and friends, and the people he knew at school, like Hiroshi and Daisuke. People who had known each other for years. People who had grown up together. Ranma felt a wave of envy flow through him, bright and hot. They didn't know what it was like to have been denied something so simple. They hadn't spent a decade of their lives wandering around, not staying in any one place for more than a year or two, if even that long. He'd worked his way into getting accepted well enough, but it was only into the outer edges of their social circles. The inside, where the barriers and limitations were few, was a place he wasn't allowed. They spoke to him, but only of casual topics. They were interested, but only in the things that happened to him—not what he thought or felt. They liked him, but not enough to make an attempt to get to know him too well. He knew what they thought of him, how they viewed him, what they said about him when they thought he wasn't around to hear. Nice enough guy, but kind of strange. Ok to hang out with, until the fiancées and other weirdoes start showing up. Alright to talk to, so long as it's nothing really important. Interesting to be around, but don't want to get too involved. Has some sort of weird curse or something, probably isn't completely right in the head. Wouldn't put much past him. Have to watch it a little when he's around, never know what's going to happen. All in all, he's Ok. Yeah, that's it—he's alright, has some neat stories to tell, can do some cool stuff, fun to be with, nice enough and all…but he's not one of us.
A single tear slid down his cheek before Ranma could stop it. He brushed it away angrily, as though offended by its presence. He was not going to cry over this. This was one of the things he'd told himself he didn't care about long ago. So what if he was always the loner? It kept him from having more responsibilities than he already had, it was probably better this way. So what if his friends were little more than people to talk about things like homework and mess around with outside at gym class and sit with at lunchtime? So what if his other friends were a group of girls, each of which was tied to him through an engagement? He didn't need more than that. He didn't care. He couldn't miss what he'd never had…
Except now, he had had it. It hadn't lasted long, but he'd had it.
Which meant he could miss it now, too.
Ranma sighed again. Sitting here feeling sorry for himself yet again wasn't going to get him far. And if whatever he said to Ryoga did nothing more than return things to something close to the norm, then…well, having that was certainly a few steps above being hated.
Not there was any guarantee that it would even accomplish that. Ranma lingered on the thought, wondering what this entailed. Ryoga had followed him to China and back supposedly because he'd wanted revenge. It was true that the Lost Boy had seemed to abandon that concept almost immediately and settled for fighting and dealing with his crush on Akane instead. But the stakes were high again—would Ryoga start pursuing a similar course of action?
Ranma considered for a moment, then decided against it. Ryoga's reasons back then had been born of anger, and anger allowed him to fight. This time, it had been different. Ranma had seen the pain in his eyes.
It was true that Ryoga could be hurt by almost anything that had even the slightest bit of meanness in it, but it was always small enough to be overpowered by the ensuing anger. And there had been anger this time, fury even, but it had been short-lived and minimal, a brief flicker of flame. This time, the pain had overwhelmed. With anger, Ryoga could fight, but with pain…he could only run.
Yet…he had started a Shi-shi Hokodan. That attack could be powered by any heavy emotion—anger, hurt, anything that was an element of depression. Under the circumstances, it certainly would've worked. There had been other people around, but none so close to them as to be hurt by a blast aimed at Ranma.
So why had Ryoga stopped?
Ranma lifted his head and glanced in the direction of Ukyo's. Now he had another unanswered question on his mind.
Author's Notes:
Who says Ryoga's the only one who angsts? Ranma needs some angst time, too. And someone had to write him as coming down on himself for the Shi-shi Hokodan thing. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy, but for fuck's sake, you don't go deliberately pushing your pals into losing their will to live just so you can win a goddamn fight. You just don't. It doesn't follow the basic principles of being a semi-decent human being. So…there.