With the clouds above their heads

Go back to their lonesome beds and leave them

She falls on you like rain

When will she fall again?

Oh just before the dawn appears, draining all the blue away

And just before all your perspectives change

Isn't it strange?

"One Long Pair of Eyes" by Hitchcock Robyn and the Egyptians

"Yes." Mom said curtly, picking up her fallen pan.

Now, you must understand, this was a little bit of a shock to me. This kid was around ten, she must've been pregnant while I was here and either didn't know or didn't say anything.

I was a little cold in return, matching her attitude towards me. "Is it Dad's?"

Her mouth hung open with indignation; she took a step forward and was ready to strike. Suddenly, she bowed her head, closed her eyes and opened them a few seconds later with watery trims.

"What kind of question is that?" She asked.

"Mom, you didn't see him much, it's valid."

It was.

"He is, of course, your father's son." She stared me down, biting at something I didn't know. "Seems his sons always have strong minds."

The kid hoped in from of his mom, my mom. "Watch out, I'm faster than I look!"

He hopped at me and I swivelled out of the way, feeling the breeze of his small body by my right shoulder.

There was a muffled grunt and the kid probably felt a sort of levitation in progress. It wasn't a new technique though, it was me.

I grabbed him by the scruff of his shirt before he landed on the ground. "Nice move kid, but I'm a professional."

I looked up at Mom and she gave me a look. I let down the geek and rolled my eyes.

She almost smiled. I was making progress.

"Sit down." She instructed, guiding me to the table. "I'll make tea."

"Naw, I'm only gonna be here for a sec." I called as she walked to the kitchen.

"Then you'll have time for at least five cups at your speed." She smirked.

Maybe I got a little bit of my smirk from her. I had always thought it was my father that I inherited that winning trait from, but perhaps my Mom's past was more interesting I'd previously thought.

Or they were both crazy devils.

She was back almost instantly, sitting across and pouring my tea.

There was a moment of silence when we first got our tea, smelling its scent and reflecting upon nothing in particular.

"Well, I found the cure to my curse." I told her, pride obvious.

She looked up from her tea with interest. "Really now, did you? How so?"

She asked in a way that was half interested, half ceremony.

I continued. "I got it from the black market in America, believe it or not; it's part of the reason I'm here today, where's Dad?"

She put down her cup almost instantly. My senses heightened.

"Why?" She asked, suspicious.

I paused, staring at her furrowed brows.

"I have some left, for him."

"…Why?"

I didn't want her to know the rest of the story.

One of those conversations, the ones I had had before I left, was with him. My own father told me to get up and go.

How could I say no?

She was stalling for some reason.

My eyes were slits and I went to crack her. "Call me a good Samaritan, a man among men."

She flinched at that.

"What's that mean, Mom?" The kid asked from the doorframe.

He was in a white gi, frayed at the edges and sweating a bit. His hair was unruly, and his feet were padding at the door; he couldn't stand still.

She turned to him, so much love in her eyes I felt a pang of jealousy, and shooed him upstairs. "Go upstairs darling, you've got to be ready in an hour."

I raised a brow as the kid left. I had a few new questions. "One, how did he not know about bein' a 'man among men'? Two, where the hell is he goin'?"

She stared at her tea, swirling the contents a bit before speaking. "Ranma," she started to sniffle and a different pang was felt in my heart, "he is going to his ballet recital."

My shock was apparent. My mother, the crazy woman who chased me with a big sword, was enrolling her youngest son in ballet lessons?

She noted my confusion. "You see, a man among men leaves . . . they all do. I want to keep my son; I love him too much to let him leave too."

This hurt. Sure, I was being a bit militant with my responses but she was just so cold to me. Now she says she loves him too much to let him leave, where the hell was that when I had to go on training trips at the age of four?

This phrase, becoming a man among men, had shadowed my life, my entire existence. She didn't want to be the blame for it obviously, but her and my father, everyone around me, had always stressed it.

"Why're you allowed to be angry? By consequence of death by the hand of my mother, I was told to become a man among men, or else. Tryin' to get outta it?" I asked, voice rising with my blood.

She turned to the door. "He's all I have left of a good, civilized world." She turned to me.

It shocked me. Her face, her old face, was desperate instead of angry.

"Ranma, I can save him!" She revealed, eyes bulging.

I pounded my hand on the table, not being able to take anymore. "Well why the hell couldn't ya save me?"

She recoiled a bit.

I was a fucking lost cause to her.

For some reason, I got the feeling my father was going to come up behind me and give me the pounding of my life for saying such things to his wife.

But I was smart. I was attentive. I was a Saotome.

I stared out the tiny open window. It had no curtains but I still felt the wind's presence.

"He's dead, isn't he?" I asked, border lining stating the fact.

She crumbled, losing her ceremony and gentle voice.

It took me a second to decide, but I knew I had to go to her side now. I was there in a flash, letting her cry on my shoulder, feeling the moisture of her tears on my shirt. She clung to my arm and sobbed heavier than anyone I had ever seen in my life.

I was vacant though; I couldn't feel a thing anymore. It was like on missions, setting up the gun, aiming, and pulling the trigger. No sane mind could do it, I had been told a million times, and it was true. Now, don't feel bad for the people I've killed, they did awful things and deserved what they got.

Chances are, I show up knocking on your door with a Magnum, you did something real bad to get me there. Especially at the price I charge.

Still, it had been my Father; the reason, the root, of most of the messed up shit that occurred in my entire existence. Well, leaving out most of the last ten years, but even he catalysed that.

I had to know. "How did he . . . die?"

The word felt taboo.

She sniffed and unclenched from my sleeve. "He ate some bad fish."

Funny: how horridly suiting.

Pops would've liked that.

It was hard to think of someone as brave and large as my father defeated by a tiny, scaled creature.

People didn't know him as well as I did; they saw the scared old man he portrayed, but I heard things in the dojo some nights, the lights on, and everyone else was asleep. He kept with it, strong but silent about his skill, never knowing when he would need it.

The characters he played were comfy for him, he had always liked to play them up; and slowly, he had somewhat turned into what he had created as a ploy.

Food had always been my father's weakness. On one trip, in some deserted part of Hiroshima, Pop ran out of ramen and any other food for that matter, and decided to sell my wondrous skills. He would make a pit of fire and tell people to watch me dance on it. I would jump up above the pit and do some moves atop the burning flames. I never touched them, except once and it was entirely not my fault, and we made lots of needed dough.

I didn't shed a tear though, I had become a man now and that wasn't really our thing, but I felt it. Inside, where nobody could watch me, I cried harder than she did.

I was out of the house in five minutes, only wasting time staring at the family portrait; three happy Saotomes: a little boy, a father, and a dutiful mother.

Obviously, there was no room in there for a fourth; an abandoned son, someone who vanished and returned too late.

Oh my, but I wanted to kill someone.

"What up, Gangsta?" Jin joked into his phone.

I rolled my eyes, frustrated. "I'm about ready to do some fucking pro-bono work, that's what!"

I heard a muffled laugh. "Bad day, then?"

"You don't know the half of it."

"I can beat it." He challenged.

He knew I loved a challenge. "Alright, shoot."

We both smirked at the pun.

"I'm thinking of seeing the ol' family tree tomorrow." He sighed into the phone.

I stopped smiling. "Are ya sure?"

He stayed quiet, but I could tell he was nodding.

"Want company?" I asked, knowing the answer already.

"No, I gotta do this on my own." He said; all the energy drained from his voice. "I gotta take it at face value, I guess."

We paused for a second.

Jin's parents were part of the reason he left. He didn't talk about them, and didn't express any want of doing so in the future. I knew though, I was attentive and a Saotome, and it didn't take long to pick up that Jin had wanted to make contact again. I knew they did something that night that he had to leave the country to avoid, and now, he was finally ready to confront it.

I finally said something.

"Wanna go get drunk at the graveyard?"

There was a long, muted pause.

". . . Yeah, sure, why not?"

"Meet at the old graveyard by Wita Street at seven." I told him, relaying the information muttered to me by my mother.

We hung up at the same time and I headed to the nearest liquor store.

Boy, I was lucky to have a friend like Jin.

"We are such fucking losers!" I laughed, sitting with my legs up by my knees and leaning on the family gravestone.

Jin laughed surreptitiously. "We are! Who gets drunk at a graveyard?"

We were now laughing so hard, sitting on either side of the family stone; it was hard to breath at moments.

"At noon!"

"Yeah, people might show up. Oh shit, people might show up! The cops might come! What're we gonna do?" Jin yelled too loud, bolting up and then falling in place.

Standing was a levied task at this point.

I smiled distantly. "We'll kill the cops, it's kinda what we do."

Jin flopped beside me. Staring at the many bottles in front of us.

"I'm real nervous about going home tomorrow Ran-z-ma."

I stared into the bottle I held. "Ya sure ya don't want me comin'? I could pretend to be your lover."

He coughed out a laugh, almost at tears. "That's why I left Ranma, I told 'em and they threw me out. What the shit is that?"

"Yeah," I yelled with much more anger than I truly felt at this moment. "What the shit is that?"

We stared at each other for a second there and then just started laughing. Not fake, curt laughs, but deep throated, sloppy, drunk laughs. We banged our fists on the ground and Jin shimmied back to his side of the gravestone.

"Oh man," Jin smiled, "we are such losers."

"Yeah," I grinned, "we totally are."

I'd note later that we were articulating quite well for "drunk losers", but at the moment I wasn't doing much thinking at all.

"So," he burped, "you're gonna be buried here too, eh?"

I shrugged to no one in particular. "Seems my place was been taken by a little runt."

"Was been?" He pointed out.

I didn't get it. "Yeah."

"Man that sucks." He said genuinely.

He popped his head around the stone to look at the back of my head. "Want me to kill him?"

I chuckled. "Naw, my Mom's gonna take care of that. Dude, he's in ballet!"

He was shocked. "Your Mom put him in ballet? That freakin' rocks! Ballet is wicked!"

I raised an eyebrow, or at least attempted to. "What?"

He continued. "Think of all the techniques you could make up, all the balance you could get."

I realized this and went bugged eyed.

"Shit, I wanna take ballet!" I said, exasperated.

He snorted. "Copy cat."

"Shut up!" I said half-hearted, a permanent silly smile on my face.

He laughed.

"Thanks dude," I told him, "I really needed this."

The tone was getting serious again and we both didn't really notice.

Then he spoke: "You swear like a sailor when you're drunk."

This accusation seemed to be monstrous in proportion to me. "Shit, do I? Oh man, I do! Crap, okay I'll stop."

I could sense his smile, even with a thin wall of cement between us.

We both heard the sudden crackle of twigs behind us, and even in our drunken haze we swivelled to look immediately.

There were two men; a short and fat one, and a tall and large one. Both were in navy blue suits with boring navy blue ties on a white shirt. They looked grim and, even in their business attire, a bit dirty.

I didn't like the look of both of them. Jin didn't either, but we didn't let on.

"Hello boys." I greeted, trying to sound as drunk as I could.

Their eyes widened and they looked at each other for a second.

The tall one spoke first. "Shit Robbie, they're drunk!"

The small one, obviously more dominant than the tall one spoke next. "Good, the easier to kill 'em."

The tall one nodded. "It just won't be as much fun, is all."

Robbie nodded and stared at the two men, lopsided and heads hanging on either side of the tombstone.

"Maybe it's not them. Hey, are you two Saotome, Ranma and Mako, Jin." He asked, pointing a finger at each namesake.

Jin looked up, smiling sloppily. "Unfortunately."

Robbie and his tall partner seemed slighted by this, but threw it off as drunken banter.

"Why?" Ranma asked, not darkening his expression but raising his guard.

"Well, we've been sent to kill you!" The tall one smiled cheerily.

Robbie smacked him in the side. "Remember, we wanted the element of fucking surprise!"

"Oh," the tall one stared at the ground and then to the boys, "just kidding?"

Ranma smirked. "Too late for that, why do you wanna kill us?"

Even though I was drunk I intended to get right to the point.

The bozos looked to each other and then shrugged. Their element of surprise had been used up so they decided to at least explain why they were about to end the lives of the two incapacitate men in front of them.

The fat one spoke. "Remember the little job you pulled on Rico Maniero?"

I racked my brain. Usually I remembered jobs; erasing them later, but remembering the titles.

"Oh!" Jin shouted, jumping up with excitement. "The book thing!"

What the hell? 'Book thing'? What was he talking about?

"Wha? Jin, ya ain't makin' sense." I slurred, rubbing my eyes.

The boys in front of us chuckled.

"Oh yes he is." The tall one sang.

I gave him a look, waiting for an explanation.

He chuckled. "First Edition copy of Pride & Prejudice. Ring any bells?"

Oh. That.

I feigned memory.

They continued, hungry to explain: "You were hired to kill a democratic leader in our employer's wonderful house. The spot chosen: the library. It was supposed to be clean and curt. While he was giving a speech, actually."

Jin interrupted. "He was holding the damn book! How were we supposed to shoot through the book and into his head? Really now, it is quite obvious you boys haven't been through much school, but you must at least have some common sense. Bullets don't curve around certain objects, they aren't remote controlled . . . yet."

The men were a bit confused.

I smirked.

Oh Jin, you're getting all flustered and pink and hilarious. It was quite adorable. Too bad there wasn't a gay bar in the graveyard; he would've been all up in that.

"Enough talk." They yelled in unison. "Got any last words, men?"

"Yeah," I said grimly, hating every second of it.

In unison, Jin and me stood up, shakily and wobbly of course, but we were up. We had a bottle in each hand and I sighed, turning my head up to look at them.

Jin looked up as well, a smirk on his face, ready for a fight. He wobbled a bit and steadied himself on the gravestone.

He was buzzing, I could feel his aura.

"Ya know Ranma, I'm thinking I really need this." Jin said.

I nodded, still staring into the eyes of the men I would now have to face. "Me too, and it is kinda pro-bono I guess."

Jin nodded in agreement, staring down the oddified men.

"Yet," I began, "they are pretty dumb, we could classify it as a mercy killing."

Jin nodded in agreement as the men started to realize what I meant. "For crimes against humanity: being that stupid."

"Hey!" The big one yelled. "Why are ya calling us stupid?"

I smiled. "Well for one, you let us in on every side of your plan."

"Two, it is the middle of the freaking day." Jin added.

"In plain site of the good people of Nerima." I continued.

"Three, there's a pretty good chance that you've only got a hand gun each." I noted.

"Four," Jin smirked. "We're the Dynamic Duo: renown around the world as highly dangerous, c'mon."

They looked embarrassed and pulled each gun out and pointed them at us.

This was just too easy.

"So, what about those final words?" The fat one yelled, desperately trying to induce fear. "And shut up, we are not dumb! We got a gun each and all you losers have are a couple bottles. Plus, you're drunk offa your knockers."

I sighed. Jin was flinching with excitement.

I looked up at the cold eyes of the fat man in front of me, Robbie, with real emotion. I was starting to get less fun out of this, less of an edge. It was a challenge and I had conquered it. Now, they sent drones to come get me, no doubt there would be plenty more later.

"I'm sorry."

And then we pounced.

I was in charge of taking out the tiny one, the one with a mouth half a mile wide. I became completely detached from emotion and was highly aware of my surroundings. Jin and I jumped on top of the tombstone.

"Ya got anythin' but a gun, by chance?" I asked him.

He shook his head and, with the forceful move, fell off the tombstone and down to the ground.

The men cocked their guns.

I stood tall, stared at the bottle in my hand and reached into my pocket. The bottle caps were still inside my jacket pocket. I withdrew two and, in a split second, forcefully threw them at the two men.

Each hit their target, the hand with each gun in it, with such force that the spiked edges remained in their hands.

Both men screamed and, in their recoil, Jin and I jumped at them, a bottle in each hand.

Jin was first to strike, hopping up to the tall man and smashing his bottle into the man's face. Blood started to clamour.

I felt myself turn from blue to grey. The area where I couldn't care if someone was made of goo. They were simply a target, nothing less and nothing more.

Now that Jin had smashed the bottle into a jagged edged weapon, whilst injuring the man he had intended to in the first place, he pounced with his new weapon, attacking the man bloody quickly.

My target was getting up, angrier than ever, seething from the ears.

"You dumb bastard, I'm gonna kill you." He screamed.

I sighed deadpanned. "You really shouldn't lie like that so close to your death, it's bad for the soul."

I ran forward, bottle in hand, tripping a bit and then striking down in the same fashion Jin took.

I was drunk though, so I missed. The bottle went right by his head. I was stunned for a second, not knowing what to do next before my instincts kicked in.

I was on the ground now. I noted the tree two feet away and stood fast.

"Why don't ya go get your gun, Robbie?" I asked, trying to buy time.

He rolled up his sleeves with his better hand. "'Cause yer a special cause now, that little bottle cap's gonna leave a scar."

"Oh," I nodded, inching toward the tree, "I think the colors contrast your eyes quite nicely; you should keep it in."

He growled and ran at me. I moved too slowly.

"Ranma," Jin yelled, "What's wrong with you? You should be done by now!" He scolded while taking care of the big guy and dragging him toward the near by bush. "You got a lighter?"

I rolled my eyes as I battled the man on top of me, in a strangle hold at that moment "Kinda busy."

He sighed and whipped out his.

I smirked. "I thought you –gack- quit?"

I punched the man off of me and swooped under the tree, grabbing a branch and, breaking it off, effectively secreted a spear.

He stared and smirked, running at me with all his force.

Okay, I couldn't miss this time. I watched him approach and just as he came within eight inches of me I plunged the branch into his chest.

Jin looked an in awe. "He's not a vampire, Ranma. Jeez."

I turned to him. "You stabbed yours repeatedly!"

He conceded. "Well, he was gonna kill me."

I nodded. "True."

He handed me the bottled top and I handed him part of the stick. I carefully placed the bottle in his hand and Jin did the same with the other man.

I stared down at myself. I had bruises, a few small cuts from the struggle, but not that much blood on me.

Jin was a different story.

"How do I look, Buddy?"

"It looks like all the ketchup in the world came to die and they chose you as their burial plot."

He nodded. "Good. Very."

He didn't realize he was supposed to say that the other way around.

Sure it was self-defense, but something was eating away inside of me.

"What would ya say if I told ya I might be retiring after this job?"

He smirked and slapped my back as we left the graveyard. "I'd say I'd be inclined to do the same."

I smiled.

"And that you'd said that a million times before." He added.

I frowned at that.

He playfully punched me. "You're bored is all, we just beat those guys and we're drunk. I mean, really, it's like those smart kids in school; we're not being challenged."

I nodded and shook the feeling off. "Right, that's all: boredom."

"C'mon, let's go get some ice cream . . . after I change I suppose."

I smirked, my mood agreeable now. "They probably will think somethin's up what with the cuts and blood and such, but you can chance it if ya want."

He rolled his eyes. "Let's take the back alleys home, Cowboy."

I laughed at the word.

Home.

A/N: I'm feeling like I'm in a writing mood so expect an update this weekend. Oh, and I know this chapter is kind of dark, but that's how I roll.

Angela Jewell: A cat would be hilarious! That's one way to keep him away, eh?

Jace3: Ranma's younger brother is gonna play a part in the story so watch for it. Ooh scary!

WhiteTigress666: Oh yes, Genma's reaction…he's my favorite character; it was hard to kill him.

Innortal: I don't think I'll paint that whole night for a bit still because it's just too fun writing Mysterious-Ranma

Ikerana: Imagine it ended all Romeo & Juliet with them killing each other and then the families would finally rest. Too bad it's been done a ridiculous number of times, eh?

Motokonobaka: Thanks, the songs inspire the story!

Reaper2040: You freakin' rock for bringing up the locker. Yeah, I want to steer away from the two muses I've got, but I'm definitely keeping some things in. They'll be subtle hopefully so watch for 'em and tell me if you spot any.

p.s. Review Please. . . Gangstaz