Caution: Loose Canon.
ASHES - A Cinderella Story
Chapter Two
If Wishes were Pigs
Take precious thread and weave it true
Crimson sheer and silken blue
Let us swing and let us sway
And Chapter Two is on its way.
RYOGA:
Wording of the wish is extremely important. However, the subject may sometimes have difficulty expressing a specific heart's desire, either because the exact specifications are not known, the subject may have subconscious barriers to admitting a desire for the end object, or the environment in which the subject exists forces them to alter their request in an unforeseen manner. It is important that you look in the heart of the person making the request as well as looking to the express wording. (from: A Few of the Basic Rules for the Temporary Fairy Godmother)
He was trying to get to heaven, trying to straighten out the mess. While this was his intent, of course, being Ryoga, he wound up far away from where he had intended to go. He was in Japan, which - although it has been reputedly described as next door to heaven, was not the destination he was seeking. Trying for the next best choice, he grabbed the nearest passerby and demanded, "Where is the Tendo dojo?"
"Hey, no need to get anxious, Ryoga," said Hiroshi. "We're going by there. It's only a few blocks straight ahead."
"Do you want a lead rope?" grinned Daisuke.
"No!"
"Just offering," said Daisuke, turning back to Hiroshi. "I still say athletes get more babes."
"That's just publicity, paid for by the sponsors. For me, a rock star is the way to go. I'd like to have a better voice and more talent than the greatest rock star alive. Part of the time, that is. I'd want to be able to go home and chill out with the rest of you ordinary people the rest of the time."
"Hah!" snorted Daisuke. "You wish!"
"Yeah," Hiroshi said dreamily, "I wish."
-tunk-
"What was that?" Daisuke glanced around at the noise.
Ryoga had jumped as if startled. "Heh. Bracelet. Scraped it against the signpost," he explained, sneaking a peek at the readout.
-bad match-
-insufficient data-
-searching-
Ryoga cast his eyes about uneasily, walking with his feet planted firmly on the pavement. After a block of these cautious steps, he asked Hiroshi, "So, who is the world's greatest rock star?"
"Heck, I dunno," Hiroshi paused to think. "There are so many."
"There's Rock Cliff," Daisuke supplied.
"Don't make me puke! The only reason we're going to this concert is for the chick fallout! When he starts putting gerbils in his mouth they're gonna freak!"
Daisuke looked dubious, "I thought we decided that was lame!"
"Better lame than alone, I say."
Ranma greeted them as they entered the dojo yard, "Yo, Ryoga! Where'd you go this morning? That was a smooth exit! Hi, guys! What brings you around here?"
Ryoga turned his head aside and mumbled something unintelligible.
"We're going to the benefit at the school and we wanted to see if you had changed your mind about going," Hiroshi paused as he absently looked at Ranma's flat, masculine chest. When he heard his friend's knuckles crackle ominously, he quickly added, "as yourself. ... Really! We have the tickets."
Daisuke blurted, "I didn't mean to make you angry! Honest!"
"Sorry, guys," Ranma shook his head. "I heard about Rock Cliff. Them things just ain't my cup of tea. Too loud."
"I thought martial artists were supposed to be able to endure any amount of pain."
"Nope, you're thinking about Pop. Why don't you get Ryoga to go with you?"
"Hey, you want to go, Ryoga-kun? We have an extra ticket," Daisuke asked, hopefully, "Hate to see it go to waste."
"Sorry," mumbled Ryoga. "I have to get a drink of water." He preceded them into the house.
"Think about it!" Hiroshi called after him, "It's not often you get to see that kind of talent!"
"Thank the gods," muttered Ranma. "You guys want a drink? I think Kasumi has tea ready. 'Scuse me, I been sweatin'. I gotta take a bath." He walked off grumbling about 'becoming domesticated.'
THE TENDO HOUSE:
Soun yawned and stretched, keeping an eye on the shoji board and a certain panda, which also yawned and stretched while keeping an eye on him.
Nabiki sat down quickly as the boys walked in, moving her backpack to one side. Something clanked underneath and she glanced about to see if the noise had been heard.
"Daddy, have you seen the comics section of the paper?" she said, "Oh, hi, Ryoga-kun."
"Ummmh," Ryoga scratched the back of his head. "I wanted to tell Akane something. Do you know where she is?"
"She's in the kitchen, getting psyched up to cook supper," Nabiki spoke with hooded eyes. "Be afraid. Be very afraid."
They heard Ranma's female voice crying from the bathroom, "What is it with this hot water? It's broke again!"
"That's too bad, Ranma!" Nabiki called, "The repairman should be here tomorrow." Unless I can divert him, somehow.
"Why does this always have to happen? I wish this darn thing would stay fixed for awhile!"
Why does it happen? Oh, I don't know. Let me count the ways - Camera full of film, check. Verbal commission for pictures, check. Heating element removed, check. "Don't have any idea, Ranma! You'll just have to make do for tonight!" She listened to the griping, grinned, and turned to Ryoga. "How about you? I know where to get a GPS receiver, cheap."
"Thanks. I had one," Ryoga got his bearings and launched himself toward the kitchen. "Funny," he paused to say, "I didn't know computers had suicide hot lines..."
Suddenly Nabiki grabbed the table to steady herself and asked, "Was that an earthquake I just felt?"
"May have been," Soun said, glancing around unconcernedly while keeping one eye on the board.
"Hey!" came Ranma's male voice again, "It's working now!"
Nabiki snapped to full alert. "It's what?" She picked up the backpack. The wrench and heater element were intact. "Something is strange, here!" she muttered.
In the kitchen, Ryoga had suddenly become tongue-tied. "Uh...Akane..."
"Yes, Ryoga?"
"Akane...I want you to know that if there is ever anything you want...just wish for it, I will get it for you. Anything! Isn't there something you wish for, more than anything in the world?"
"Oh, Ryoga...yes," Akane's eyes misted. She brushed a hand over the picture of the Tendo family at an earlier, happier time. Her father had taken it out earlier and had been mooning over it.
"Errr..." Ryoga halted. Surely she was not going to wish for THAT. "Maybe I should have said..." He did not want to know if it was possible to bring back Akane's mother, especially if she appeared as a ghost. Not to mention the fact that such a powerful wish would give a certain demoness his location. He shuddered. He did not want to face the wraith again.
"But that is silly. I would not bring her back, even if I could, and take her from her peace," Akane sighed. She did not notice the relief on Ryoga's face.
"I swear, Akane!" cried Ryoga, "If there is anything you want, all you have to do is wish!"
"Ryoga," Akane reached up to touch his cheek. "You are such a thoughtful and considerate friend. Thank you for caring."
Ryoga staggered off, torn between delirious joy at her touch and unfathomable depression because she still did not understand how deeply he loved her.
A splash, and P-Chan was in her lap. As P-Chan, Ryoga could be close to Akane and grant her every wish. Thus, he was there when Ranma provoked her.
"I'm not saying that the last miso soup you made was quite as bad as turpentine..." Ranma managed to insert his foot in his mouth and talk at the same time.
"Ranma! You never say anything good about my cooking!"
P-Chan sprang to alertness. Now, if she became angry enough, she would wish Ranma away, far away!
"Yeah, that soup was good, like rancid yak butter tastes good. At least someone can eat yak butter!"
Akane shoved to her feet, dumping P-Chan onto the floor. "You never give me a chance! I wish..."
YES! The little black pig quivered with excitement. Yes! This was it!
"I wish...I wish..." Akane nearly fell over the bouncing, frantic pig. "P-Chan, be careful! Now, what was I saying?"
The little black pig backed away, trying to quiver unnoticed as he strained to project his thoughts, Say it! Say it!
"I wish for once I could cook a really good meal! That would show you! That would show all of you!"
No one noticed the shuddering vibration except the little pig, who was moping toward the bathroom with tears in his eyes.
"In fact, that is what I am going to do right now! You just wait!" Akane slammed off into the kitchen to make good on her word. She did.
Akane cooked a great meal. It was beautiful. It was fabulous. And...no one ate it. No one of the immediate household, that is. Daisuke nibbled some cabbage turnovers and persimmon dumplings, but the meal looked and smelled so delicious that he could not resist. He thought that the few bites he could eat, before the food was wrenched from his grasp, tasted great.
So did the traveling troupe of mimes who found a feast dumped hastily out on the sidewalk out of Akane's sight. The mimes ate and ate and left rubbing their tummies and making signs of contentment to indicate their pleasure, but being mimes they could not say out loud how good the food was.
Ryoga appeared shortly after, said, "Hellogoodbye," and left towing Hiroshi and Daisuke. Daisuke was glad enough to leave, as he could not figure out why everyone was regarding him with such pity.
"Someone stacked our dinner dishes out on the sidewalk," said Kasumi. "Now, why would anyone do that?"
Akane glared at everyone and received guilty looks in return.
Kasumi held one of the dishes up to the light. "It has been licked clean," she noted, "But there was no one there."
"Probably on their way to the emergency room," Ranma guessed.
Soun began to tune up the sprinklers. "Oh, the humanity!" he cried.
"Will you guys stop that?" Akane cried, "At least Daisuke liked it!"
"Yeah," sighed Ranma as he prepared to run, but not fast enough. "I'm gonna miss him. Ow!"
HIROSHI:
Your response, upon hearing a request, should be to reaffirm that the request is valid. This may take the form of a question, such as, "Is that your desire?" or perhaps, "Do you really want to wish for that?" or "Is that your final answer?" The first few times you submit a request you may inadvertently overlook this, since timing is critical. The system has checks and balances to prevent blatantly wrong wishes from becoming fulfilled, but it is possible for a properly validated wish to accomplish something other than the desired goal. In fact, this is the very nature of wish-giving, since most people ask for something they don't really want since they do not know, or will not admit to themselves, what is needed. This is the Art of wish-giving, to provide what is truly desired, even though it may not be what they thought they wanted. (from: A Few of the Basic Rules for the Temporary Fairy Godmother)
The evening was shot. We had gone to the concert, only to find that our tickets were no good. Somehow, we had bought tickets for the next day's performance, on the other side of Japan.
So, we decided to sneak in. After all, we had paid for tickets, which we weren't going to travel all the way across Japan to use. We deserved to get in. That made sense. We tried to keep together. In the long run, with Ryoga, this did not make sense.
Through caverns dank and cold, by waterfalls that roared in the night, down hallways echoing with emptiness, beneath dusty lantern-lit ceilings too creepy to belong in any school, not even Furinkan, we crept.
"Y'know," I said as I polished off my ice cream cone, "I have a dream. I have always wanted to be a singer. Making money, having fans. I wish I was a rock singer."
I noticed Ryoga grimacing, and he must have hit his bracelet again because I heard it go -tunk-.
"What's wrong with wishing?" I asked, "It helps to pass the time."
Ryoga appeared to be watching something outside my range of vision. "Things have a way of coming true around me," he whispered.
I stuck out my chin. "I wish..."
Ryoga covered his ears. "I don't want to hear it!"
"...I wish...I want to be a rock singer! There! How's that for a dumb wish? I haven't got the looks, and I haven't got the voice. Plus, my parents would never let me out of the house."
The light from a torch guttering on the cavern wall reflected eerily from Ryoga's eyes. "It didn't happen before. Maybe it won't happen now," he said, and he seemed to cheer up. "Hey! It doesn't happen every time!"
Finally, we had a break. We emerged from a janitor's closet into a room that I recognized.
"This is another fine mess you've gotten us into!" I cried, "We are in the basement of the school auditorium, but the concert is over!"
"Don't look at me! Ryoga had the map!" Dai protested.
"I don't understand!" Ryoga said, puzzled, "I may get lost, but I always get where I'm going...eventually...sometimes."
"Wait!" Daisuke said, looking up at the stage floor above us, "Do you suppose they are still here? I hear music! I think there is something still going on up there!"
There was, indeed, noise. I tried to listen, but all I got was ear-strain and a sore nose from walking into a stage-prop door. Daisuke has always had a better ear than I did. What can I say? Music is music. Besides, I was just getting over a cold.
He listened some more, then said, "They are just getting started!" He leaned against another prop and sighed, "Man, I wish I could get up there and watch!"
Getting out of the basement proved tricky. We tried first one door, then another. There were a lot of fake walls, stage props stored down here between performances of the drama society, so we spread out to look for a real door.
"Here's one!" Daisuke's voice floated out from a corner, then the door slammed and he thumped against it - from the other side. His muffled voice came through, "It locked on me after I went through it! You'll have to open it from the inside!"
We found the door and tried it, but the lock was jammed. Ryoga shrugged, raised a finger, and touched the door.
"Bakusai tenketsu," he said in a conversational voice. I jumped back, expecting the wall to explode when he released his chi.
Nothing happened.
Ryoga stared at the undamaged door and at his finger. Onto his face crept an expression of disbelief, followed by determination.
"BAKUSAI TENKETSU!" he roared, poking at the door.
A hole appeared, about the size of his finger, but otherwise, nothing happened. No, wait. Something did happen. Tiny bits of sparkling confetti floated down from the ceiling, leaving a dusting of glitter on the stage furniture.
Ryoga's eyes were wide. "Fairy dust!" he mutteredd, "And I have lost my earthbreaker!"
"Glitter," I said, correcting him. "Simple glitter, must have been left here by the drama society. Try harder."
Raising his voice, he said, "Maybe I had better not. I have been through hell...er...some strange places recently, and I think I'd better be careful!"
"Look!" I reasoned, "You were going to bust it down, anyway! I'll pay the school back for the door! We're going to miss the concert!"
He grasped the handle and pulled. The door opened easily with a screech of wrenched metal, an ear-rending howl that went on and on. I finally realized that I was hearing the scream of a hard-rock guitar being tortured into scrap metal, and it was coming from the stage above. I grinned. The show was about to start, and we had come out of the basement behind the stage!
We could not find Daisuke. He must have given up on us and had followed his ears to the shouts and cheers from the crowd seated in the auditorium. As I followed, leading Ryoga along, I passed another door that looked very promising. It was the entrance backstage.
"We could go in there!" I suggested, above the noise.
"I still FEEL strong..."
"No one would see us, and we could watch the whole performance!"
"...I can get as depressed as ever, though that works best with the Shishihoukoudan..."
"And I've always wanted to get the feel of a rock concert, up close and personal, even if I'm never going to be a rock singer!"
"...so why doesn't anything go bang? All I get is this sparkly dust..."
Ryoga was too busy examining his finger and poking at solid objects to object, so I made the decision for us. Carpe diem. Grab the fish, I always say.
The show began, and we watched the opening act as a scrawny kid stomped out on stage and began to warble.
"I can understand you wanting to sound better than that!" Ryoga shuddered.
"He's just getting the audience warmed up," I shrugged. "Rock Cliff is due up next! He's gross, but he can sing great!"
"And you want to be better," Ryoga sighed. He shook his bracelet again.
"I wish it with all my heart," I sighed. "Just for a little while. Like I said, I wouldn't want to give up my regular life for it, mind you."
As the scrawny kid left the stage, the announcer led a spattering of applause and began a long rambling introduction for the next act. Rock Cliff could not make it because of a bus breakdown. In his place...
...Into his place on stage walked the most beautiful girl I had ever seen, dressed in yellow and moving like a vision of heaven. As the music rose, she performed a dance routine. She sang the first line, and I shouted with excitement.
"Isn't she fabulous? Her name is Primrose. She is the greatest!"
-ping-
Ryoga fidgeted as if he were itching. "She's the greatest?" he repeated, as if in disbelief.
"She's the best, man!" Didn't he hear me?
"But that's a..."
"Yeah. Ain't she something?"
"The greatest looks?"
"She's a knockout!"
"The greatest voice?"
"Listen! Doesn't it send shivers down your spine?"
"You don't know how much," Ryoga shuddered. "And now it's too late."
"Eh? What did you say?"
There was a steadily growing rumble which drowned out all thought.
"I said..." Ryoga had to yell to make himself heard above the din, "I said..."
-poof-
I reached for him. Then I looked at the hand grasping Ryoga's shirt, a slender female hand which was attached to a slender female arm which was covered with a brilliant blue sleeve which was attached to a jacket which was attached to...me. I released him and in a calm, dignified voice, expressed my opinion about the situation.
"Acckkkk!" I said.
"Hiroshi?" Ryoga asked. He was pointing at me, his forefinger wavering in a sketchy circle.
"Ack!" I said, brightly, feeling my eyes expanding like dinner plates, in alarm.
"Hiroshi? You're..."
"Ack!" I said again, feeling my chin bounce off the floor. Three or four times.
"Oops...I was afraid something like this might happen..."
"Ack!" I repeated, for good measure. My breasts were jaunting perkily. What distressed me was that I could see my breasts. I was no body builder. These were not pecs, built up from months of hard labor on the rowing machine. These were boobs. Creamy mounds of delicate flesh. What was worse was that they were clearly visible for the world to see, as well, through the almost sheer blue material of the blouse, hindered only by strategically placed blue ribbons and the jacket which did not quite meet in front.
"Sorry..."
"Ack!" Sorry? He was sorry? If he was sorry, what was I? I was...I was... There was something awfully familiar about this, but for once I was seeing it from the wrong perspective. Those perky boobs, that slim waist swelling into thrilling hips, that impossible, compelling, sultry voice - voice?
"I'm a girl?"
He nodded miserably.
"How?"
Ryoga actually seemed in pain. "This sort of thing has been happening to me a lot, lately," he said in an embarrassed voice.
"You? Whaddya mean, you? I'm the one it happened to!"
He scratched the back of his head and grinned sourly, "Wishes have been coming true around me, but I can't talk about it. All I can say is that I think it's something in my aura that triggers it. Yeah. That seems safe enough."
"I didn't wish to be a girl!"
"You said you wanted to have more talent and look better than the greatest rock star."
"But I meant a guy rock star!"
"And then you said Primrose was the greatest."
Arrgghh! "But I didn't mean - "
"Hey, you two!" a uniformed security guard shouted, "Get outta here! This is a restricted area!" Several more guards joined him. They were big, tough, and they carried nightsticks. It was then that I did several things wrong.
I panicked, which was mistake #1.
I ran, which was mistake #2.
I followed Ryoga.
Mistake #3.
Strike three. I was out. On the stage. In front of millions and millions of staring eyes. Well, hundreds of staring eyes - that was bad enough. As a girl. Wearing - or almost not wearing - a brilliant sparkling blue mini-dress with blue jacket and tails, with blue ribbons in strategic locations. Ryoga was nowhere in sight.
I mean, what's a guy to do, given the circumstances? Behind me, the guards were preparing to rush the stage and grab me. They only held off because they were checking to see if I was part of the show.
So, I froze. For ages of seconds, we stared at each other, the audience and I, and they began to make an ugly sound.
-Drool-
I mean, really ugly.
Then they began to chant, softly at first, until everyone was calling, insisting, "Sing something! Sing something!"
Me? Sing? I could remove paint with my voice. Pops said he would never need to buy sandpaper when he had me around. Stray cats followed me around for inspiration. They wanted me to sing?
"Sing something! SING something!"
There once was a lady from Osaka...no, forget that...
They're gonna kill me...
So, I tried to sing. When I cleared my throat, a silence fell, as deafening in its own way as the previous thundering demands.
I remembered hearing Mom humming a lullaby that morning. It was nothing, just a pleasant melody she had sung to Hainoko when she was a baby. So it wasn't a pop tune. It was the only thing I could think of at the time.
"Hush, little baby, to my lullaby..."
The audience loved it. They ate it up. The band took up the melody and improvised, jazzed it up and blasted out a sax solo when I stopped to catch my breath. There was a band? I didn't know there was a band. Oh, yeah. The Primrose Path. Off-stage, a girl in pale yellow stood watching me. She seemed as awe-struck as the audience.
It was a simple lullaby, for Kami's sake. You would have thought it was the most inspirational, pulse-pounding, thrilling aria ever recorded.
Maybe it was the way my new voice said, "Baby."
The sound of girls cheering and muttering enviously was only drowned out by the sound of guys cheering and slobbering. Overcome with passion, fans began to swarm the stage.
If they were overcome with passion, I was overcome with panic. Girls with souvenir scissors. Guys with roses and amorous gleams in their eyes, and hands that reached for me. Again, I ran.
This time the guards were actually helping me, politely hustling me out a side door so I could get away. I fled into the basement where I hid for an hour, until I thought it was safe. It was not. The mob spotted me again outside and was about to catch me when I rounded a corner. They swirled about me, there was momentary confusion and...
-poof-
I was myself, again, plain old Hiroshi. I did not ask questions. I was me! The mob rushed on past. No one paid any attention to me, so intent were they on their pursuit.
I walked away, back stiff, my eyes held rigidly ahead, and eventually managed to find Ryoga. He was reading the inscription on his bracelet by the light of a streetlamp. A TV news crew bustled past us, the anchorwoman peering into the shadows and searching the shrubbery.
The news woman approached us, still searching. "Have you seen that girl?" she asked.
"What girl?" I asked innocently.
"That singer in blue! She was magnificent! She was wonderful! And no one knows who she is or where she went!"
"She disappeared like Cinderella," added the cameraman.
I glanced at Ryoga. He looked at me. "Haven't seen her!" we chorused.
"I have to interview her!" the news woman said, "She is the find of the century! I'll pay you if you can get her name!"
This caught my attention. "Pay? How much?" Before she could name a figure, Ryoga had grabbed me and dragged me away with him. We lost track of each other almost immediately.
I got home after midnight, but Pops was already asleep.
End: Chapter Two