Lost Soul - Part One
By Seed
It would be a cold and unfriendly night, grey clouds hanging already heavy in the dark sky, rain pourring down on the empty streets and the people hurrying home, running to find shelter from the harsh enviroment. The sun had set just a few minutes ago, but on this cold november evening the soft touch of sunlight was already just a fading memory. The rain fell with steadily increasing intensity, thick fog coming through the streets, making it imposssible to see more than a few meters ahead. Deep puddles had already appeared on the asphalt, looking like small pits of oil in the darkness.
Thunder rolled in the distance and sometimes a lightning would illuminate the scenery with a quick glimpse of light, giving the impression that time itself stood still for a heartbeat. Nobody would want to be outside in this kind of conditions. Everyone with a roof over the head was feeling thankful to spend the night inside their save homes, together with their families and loved ones, safe, secure and protectetd.
But not everyone was lucky tonight.
On a construction site, where according to the big banner put up at the front side, a shopping mall would soon be opened, one of these persons had found a place for the night. The weather had surprised him and he had not been in his best condition, so the best place he had found in his rush had been inside a big concrete tube, soon to be used as connection to the canalisation for the new building.
The person sitting in the small cave had put up his big, red unmbrella to make sure that at least one side would be closed tight should the wind make a surprising turn and decide to blew in some rain, and thereby activate his curse.
Othter than this he had nothing to keep him warm for the night. He hadn't unfolded his sleeping-bag, nor had he set up his small gas-burner. His backpack lay untouched besides the boy, known to his friends as Ryoga Hibiki, or "Eternally Lost Boy". He did not seem to notice the coldness creeping in from the open side of his shelter and coming from the cold concrete below his feet,- or when he noticed he didn't care. The chill he felt within his body was nothing compared to the shock and turmoil inside the Losty Boys troubled mind.
The hours passed and Ryoga didn't seem to move a single muscle, just sitting still and staring outside, yet not taking notice of the outside world. It was as if the Lost Boy had himslef closed up to everything outside his own little world. While Ryoga had a tendency to sometimes drift out from reality for a short moment this shell-shocked stasis-like isolation was something he experienced not very often, just when he was really feeling that there was something, he couldn't cope with, something which threatened to overcome him. Usually he solved his problems with his fists or with running away, but both options wouldn't work here.
It was almost three hours after mid-night that he finally broke his silence and movementless pose. Completely surrounded by darkness Ryoga led out a small sigh. He was in a state that he could only describe as mixture of confusion, pain, shock, despair, bitterness and anger with himself. *Not as if I'm like this for the first time*, he mused. Sitting cross-legged, with his back to the umbrella shielded side of his "thinking spot" he had thought about the turn of the world and his little role in it for the last few hours. Glancing outside into the still rainy night he sighed once more.
*Depressing*, was all he could think of to describe the feeling inside of him as well as the state of the world outside. Not a very unique thought after a nearly all night long contemplation, but he had never been the most creative one around. *The world is indeed a dark and lonely place*. This thought wasn't exactly new either, but tonight his favourite phrase seemed to be more fitting than ever. Ryoga Hibiki was not in a good mood, that was fore sure.
But pepole who were a bit closer to the "Eternally Lost Boy" knew that this was not an unfamiliar thing, in fact it was the normal behaviour, everyone expected from Ryoga. The sun was shining, the birds were flying and Ryoga was depressed, so what else was new. But today was different. Ryoga did not feel his usual kind of being down and moody after a lost battle to Ranma, a missed chance to open up his heart to Akane, or after being insulted and emberassed by Ranma. It was also not his numb feeling of lonleyness inside after being called *idiot*, *stupid*,*jackass* and *moron* once to often by Ranma, Ukyo, Schampoo or Mousse, nor was it the mixture of self-pity and humilation he felt after spending much time as P-Chan.
No the Lost Boy had really no shortage of things which made him feel unhappy, besides his experiences with Ranma, it was in particular the feeling of shame and guilt he always felt for decieving Akane in form of her cute little pet piglet, which nagged at him the worst. Sometimes the feeling of remorse, self-hatred and disgust for himself and his shady actions was strong enough, that you could watch a little black piglet stand in front of the Tendo-Dojo, shooting a white ball of energy skywards.
But only in the early hours of the morning, when everyone else in the house and the whole neigbourhood was still sound asleep. So a ki-blasting pig was a sight no one had seen so far, and Ryoga would prefer it when it just stayed that way.
Somehow he also could never use the Shi Shi Hokoudan in his pig form around Ranma, a fact he was glad for at the same time, the thought of being watched by Akane and her finally adding two and two together, frightening enough to jerk him awakwe sometimes in the middle of the night, screaming horrified.
But no, Ryogas current state of mind was neither caused by Ranma nor Akane, his curse, or anything related to Nerima.
It had all started this morning. After an adventourus, exhausting and completely involuntarily made trip to the Australian Outback, Ryoga had managed to find Sydney's International Airport and had snuck onboard a JAL flight to Tokyo, having been so close to pick the wrong plane an visiting Buenos Aires - again - for the sixth time.
He hated airports, you did not only get lost in them, you were completely doomed in those monsters of modern mass transportation. One false step and the next thing you know is that an angry Mexican border-police officer, is shouting in your ear, cursing like a sailor and demanding an plausible explanation for the complete lack of passport, visa or at least a decent bribe.
Spending hours chatting his teeth in the baggage compartement of the Boeing- 757 from Sydney to Tokyo hadn't exactly helped to better his mood either. After the landing and an acrobatic jump off the plane, startling a pair of workers responsible for the unloading of the baggage on his way out, he had promptly lost track of the right way to Nerima. He had looked for something familiar to bring him "home" again, but spending thousands of miles on the roads surrounding Tokyo, everything starts to look familiar at some point, or in Ryogas case everything looked as strange as ever.
He had rested for a short while in front of a shop, selling greeting cards, flowers and all kinds of lilttle knick-knacks. His eyes had fallen on a big calendar, hanging in the shop window, the current date was marked in big red numbers, November 22. Ryogas eyes had almost fallen out of his head, he had started to shiver, his fists clenching to his sides, tears willing up in his face. A expression of pure, plain shock imprinted on his face. *N- no, how, how can this be, is it been so long? I-I didn't know, h-how could I've known it's this late already. I will never make it on time, no there's no chance.*
He had fallen to his kness his fists pounding into the concrete of the streets, sending debris flying to all sides. The owner of the shop had come out, yelling at him, threatening to call the police if he didn't stop. Ryoga hadn't even heared him, completely sunk in his own world of shock, despair and depression. His senses had gone numb, blocking out the outside world.
It wasn't until he heard the distinct sound of thunder rolling not far away that he had stopped his vicious punching into the ground. His years of travelling as a Jusenkyo cursed showing useful for once, he had acted out of pure instinct. It was like his body moved on a subconcsious level. His mind still closed up to the outside, he had reacted automatically, jumping up, turning around and dashing through the streets, leaving behind the astonished crowd that had build up around him.
Finally, after a mile long run, following no logical course he had collapsed on this consruction site dragging himself the last meters inside the concrete tube, only seconds before the rain began to fall and turning the mud in the area into a wet, ugly swamp.
To be continued...
By Seed
It would be a cold and unfriendly night, grey clouds hanging already heavy in the dark sky, rain pourring down on the empty streets and the people hurrying home, running to find shelter from the harsh enviroment. The sun had set just a few minutes ago, but on this cold november evening the soft touch of sunlight was already just a fading memory. The rain fell with steadily increasing intensity, thick fog coming through the streets, making it imposssible to see more than a few meters ahead. Deep puddles had already appeared on the asphalt, looking like small pits of oil in the darkness.
Thunder rolled in the distance and sometimes a lightning would illuminate the scenery with a quick glimpse of light, giving the impression that time itself stood still for a heartbeat. Nobody would want to be outside in this kind of conditions. Everyone with a roof over the head was feeling thankful to spend the night inside their save homes, together with their families and loved ones, safe, secure and protectetd.
But not everyone was lucky tonight.
On a construction site, where according to the big banner put up at the front side, a shopping mall would soon be opened, one of these persons had found a place for the night. The weather had surprised him and he had not been in his best condition, so the best place he had found in his rush had been inside a big concrete tube, soon to be used as connection to the canalisation for the new building.
The person sitting in the small cave had put up his big, red unmbrella to make sure that at least one side would be closed tight should the wind make a surprising turn and decide to blew in some rain, and thereby activate his curse.
Othter than this he had nothing to keep him warm for the night. He hadn't unfolded his sleeping-bag, nor had he set up his small gas-burner. His backpack lay untouched besides the boy, known to his friends as Ryoga Hibiki, or "Eternally Lost Boy". He did not seem to notice the coldness creeping in from the open side of his shelter and coming from the cold concrete below his feet,- or when he noticed he didn't care. The chill he felt within his body was nothing compared to the shock and turmoil inside the Losty Boys troubled mind.
The hours passed and Ryoga didn't seem to move a single muscle, just sitting still and staring outside, yet not taking notice of the outside world. It was as if the Lost Boy had himslef closed up to everything outside his own little world. While Ryoga had a tendency to sometimes drift out from reality for a short moment this shell-shocked stasis-like isolation was something he experienced not very often, just when he was really feeling that there was something, he couldn't cope with, something which threatened to overcome him. Usually he solved his problems with his fists or with running away, but both options wouldn't work here.
It was almost three hours after mid-night that he finally broke his silence and movementless pose. Completely surrounded by darkness Ryoga led out a small sigh. He was in a state that he could only describe as mixture of confusion, pain, shock, despair, bitterness and anger with himself. *Not as if I'm like this for the first time*, he mused. Sitting cross-legged, with his back to the umbrella shielded side of his "thinking spot" he had thought about the turn of the world and his little role in it for the last few hours. Glancing outside into the still rainy night he sighed once more.
*Depressing*, was all he could think of to describe the feeling inside of him as well as the state of the world outside. Not a very unique thought after a nearly all night long contemplation, but he had never been the most creative one around. *The world is indeed a dark and lonely place*. This thought wasn't exactly new either, but tonight his favourite phrase seemed to be more fitting than ever. Ryoga Hibiki was not in a good mood, that was fore sure.
But pepole who were a bit closer to the "Eternally Lost Boy" knew that this was not an unfamiliar thing, in fact it was the normal behaviour, everyone expected from Ryoga. The sun was shining, the birds were flying and Ryoga was depressed, so what else was new. But today was different. Ryoga did not feel his usual kind of being down and moody after a lost battle to Ranma, a missed chance to open up his heart to Akane, or after being insulted and emberassed by Ranma. It was also not his numb feeling of lonleyness inside after being called *idiot*, *stupid*,*jackass* and *moron* once to often by Ranma, Ukyo, Schampoo or Mousse, nor was it the mixture of self-pity and humilation he felt after spending much time as P-Chan.
No the Lost Boy had really no shortage of things which made him feel unhappy, besides his experiences with Ranma, it was in particular the feeling of shame and guilt he always felt for decieving Akane in form of her cute little pet piglet, which nagged at him the worst. Sometimes the feeling of remorse, self-hatred and disgust for himself and his shady actions was strong enough, that you could watch a little black piglet stand in front of the Tendo-Dojo, shooting a white ball of energy skywards.
But only in the early hours of the morning, when everyone else in the house and the whole neigbourhood was still sound asleep. So a ki-blasting pig was a sight no one had seen so far, and Ryoga would prefer it when it just stayed that way.
Somehow he also could never use the Shi Shi Hokoudan in his pig form around Ranma, a fact he was glad for at the same time, the thought of being watched by Akane and her finally adding two and two together, frightening enough to jerk him awakwe sometimes in the middle of the night, screaming horrified.
But no, Ryogas current state of mind was neither caused by Ranma nor Akane, his curse, or anything related to Nerima.
It had all started this morning. After an adventourus, exhausting and completely involuntarily made trip to the Australian Outback, Ryoga had managed to find Sydney's International Airport and had snuck onboard a JAL flight to Tokyo, having been so close to pick the wrong plane an visiting Buenos Aires - again - for the sixth time.
He hated airports, you did not only get lost in them, you were completely doomed in those monsters of modern mass transportation. One false step and the next thing you know is that an angry Mexican border-police officer, is shouting in your ear, cursing like a sailor and demanding an plausible explanation for the complete lack of passport, visa or at least a decent bribe.
Spending hours chatting his teeth in the baggage compartement of the Boeing- 757 from Sydney to Tokyo hadn't exactly helped to better his mood either. After the landing and an acrobatic jump off the plane, startling a pair of workers responsible for the unloading of the baggage on his way out, he had promptly lost track of the right way to Nerima. He had looked for something familiar to bring him "home" again, but spending thousands of miles on the roads surrounding Tokyo, everything starts to look familiar at some point, or in Ryogas case everything looked as strange as ever.
He had rested for a short while in front of a shop, selling greeting cards, flowers and all kinds of lilttle knick-knacks. His eyes had fallen on a big calendar, hanging in the shop window, the current date was marked in big red numbers, November 22. Ryogas eyes had almost fallen out of his head, he had started to shiver, his fists clenching to his sides, tears willing up in his face. A expression of pure, plain shock imprinted on his face. *N- no, how, how can this be, is it been so long? I-I didn't know, h-how could I've known it's this late already. I will never make it on time, no there's no chance.*
He had fallen to his kness his fists pounding into the concrete of the streets, sending debris flying to all sides. The owner of the shop had come out, yelling at him, threatening to call the police if he didn't stop. Ryoga hadn't even heared him, completely sunk in his own world of shock, despair and depression. His senses had gone numb, blocking out the outside world.
It wasn't until he heard the distinct sound of thunder rolling not far away that he had stopped his vicious punching into the ground. His years of travelling as a Jusenkyo cursed showing useful for once, he had acted out of pure instinct. It was like his body moved on a subconcsious level. His mind still closed up to the outside, he had reacted automatically, jumping up, turning around and dashing through the streets, leaving behind the astonished crowd that had build up around him.
Finally, after a mile long run, following no logical course he had collapsed on this consruction site dragging himself the last meters inside the concrete tube, only seconds before the rain began to fall and turning the mud in the area into a wet, ugly swamp.
To be continued...