BOYS' NIGHT OUTRyoga was silent. He wasn't quite sure where he was.
Okay, he finally admitted to himself after over an hour of denial, he didn't have the slightest idea where he was. He was lost.
Again.
Oh, but it was an endless pattern. Wander here, wander there. Find Akane, find Akari, talk to them for a bit, give them some small trinket he'd picked up along the way, watching them smile, as they assumed of course that the "gift" had been bought for them, one over the other. Then, if it was Akane, fight --spar, he decided, was a better word for what they did these days-- with Ranma, and then leave again. Wander some more. Perhaps even manage to convince himself that he was heading somewhere.
He wasn't. If this was a point of transition in his life, all the buses and airplanes had broken down. If this was transet, he was sitting in a plastic chair, with his nose pressed against the pane glass, watching the world move around outside.
Outside, inside. Wherever he went, the grass was always greener.
He remembered the day Ranma had thrown those damned pictures off the ledge. He should have just stood there, like he always did, and let them both flutter to the ground. Akane had Ranma, Akari had her family heritedge. That and the farm hand she'd seemed quite taken with the last time he was there. But him? He had nothing.
I've never really had anything, anyway. What's the big deal? part of him wanted to know. When he looked back, all he saw were almosts. The stolen bread, the empty house he could never find.... All he had was a backpack. And he had lost that, even, when the rain started. Oh, he would have found a piece of shelter and waited it out. That was what he had learned to do; it kept him alive. But while waiting under that big tree, he'd happened to notice the tell-tail signs of a wolf pack in the area. Cursing himself, wishing that he was at least a pig that could climb trees --although, no doubt, more hazards lurked up there-- he began to make his way --downwind-- away from them.
And once he was out of the clearing, he knew his backpack and clothing were lost forever. He had never been in this situation before. He had made no provisions "in case". When I get out of this, he decided, I will fix up *some* means of carrying clothing at least in this form. It's stupid, having to wait around near things I can't carry or even pick up to defend myself.
So now he wandered, still in the nameless, borderless forest, for all he knew tracing circles deeper into it. And that was when the person came along.
He skirted away, hiding in the brush, knowing that a night like this one made fresh meat excruciatingly appealing, and waited for the person to pass.
It was only then that he recognized the trademark black slippers and matching baggy pants, the pair with the little white bows facing out. While he didn't much think of Ranma as preferred company, at least he wasn't lible to make pork cutlets without pouring hot water on him.
This Ryoga had learned on that camping trip a month ago. Ranma had caught something or other, Ryoga couldn't remember what at the moment, and he'd been setting up plates and everything, to find Ranma with a kettle on, holding the terrified creature down by its tail feathers. Right. It had been a bird. He had asked what the hold-up was, and Ranma made no reply, save to empty a little of the water onto the bird's head, and then immediately snap its neck.
"Hmm? Oh...ever since you told me that story about the guide almost making dinner out of you, I haven't been able to eat an animal without checking first."
Something had warmed in him at the statement, but Ryoga had pushed it aside for the more pressing matters of stomach. Now, the warmth renewed itself.
He leapt from his hiding place, bwee'ing excitedly, and grabbed a bit of Ranma's cuff when he went on, without noticing.
Ranma blinked, knelt by the small piglet, and smiled a little.
"Went out in the rain without your umbrella, eh P-chan? I'm a little surprised to see you.... Didn't expect to see anyone, actually."
There was something forboding in the tone, but Ryoga ignored it for the moment, and looked up at him pleadingly.
"Oh, right. Hot water. Sorry." Ranma scooped him up, looked about them for a moment, and then stood and headed back in the direction from whence he came. He was silent, too, listening to the forest around them as it dripped from the post-rainfall, and Ryoga squirmed around in an attempt to get a good look at his expression.
Pensive, uncertain, with an ugly streak of black hatred. It reflected in his ki, and though Ryoga wasn't good enough to be able to see it, he could hear it. High-pitched, singing in tunes of fear. Fear was alien to the aura of Ranma Saotome, at least, to his knowledge. But then, he hadn't been able to read ki for very long. He hoped Ranma couldn't hear the tones of his own ki, which were worried and protective and affectionate. And now embarrassed.
Ranma stopped walking abruptly, and Ryoga twisted again to see the wolf pack from before. Ranma's ki was throbbing violent waves of fear now, and he obviously didn't know what to do. Ranma liked dogs, enemies to cats, and usually got along with them fairly well, but was having clear difficultly in seeing this giant sloping beast with the same eyes he saw puppies with.
Ranma shouldn't have been afraid. Wolves didn't eat things like him. But how should he know, as he was always with his father on outings, and wolves stayed away from single people, ran from multiple. One wolf stepped forward, ash-gray, and pawed at the ground between them. He ruffled his fur a little, black eyes gleaming up at Ranma, tail twitching a little in a movment not at all like a wag. His nose rippled a little, and he took a long drag of Ranma's scent, then cocked his head to the other wolves.
Ranma was trembling now, and he clutched Ryoga's pig form closely, lifting him up to brace against his collar bones. Ryoga wished he could have communicated to Ranma what to do -- he should kneel, make himself small and non-threatening, legs close together and head down. A submissive posture to an alpha male. And he should do it quickly.
But Ranma just stood there, his ki a war with fear and bravery, concern and more concern. Then, very slowly, he began to back away. Good, the wolves were not moving in an agreesive formation. Good, good. Ranma worked his way out of the clearing, and around, obviously oblivious to the fact that he had set up whatever he had set up within wolf territory. However, wolves were better than small cats, which roamed and attacked indescrimanently. Cats had bigger egos on them than cainines.
Ranma made his way there, wherever, and Ryoga looked around again to see a small camp. Single tent, which concerned him some, for why would Ranma be out camping by himself, and what looked like it had been a fireplace before the rain. No good now, the ambers were soaked through and through. And a good sleeping bag was warm enough, anyway, providing he was willing to go without food for the night.
However, a small stove --very small, and looking as though its sole purpose was to heat kettles-- could be noted at one side. A kettle accompanying it. But Ranma didn't go to that. He went over to a bag he had strung up in a tree --it had probably seemed the right thing to do at the time, though Ryoga hadn't seen any bears around-- and retrieved a thermos from it. Then unzipped the tent's flap, and slipped inside.
And zipped it back up again, almost unconsciously, before rooting around in another bag for clothing. He pulled out a thin flannel pair of boxers, and matching undershirt, then opened the thermos, poured a little into its cap, and emptied it over Ryoga.
Now human, nude, and cramped, Ryoga reached gladly for the offered garments, suddenly relieved that Ranma had thought to find them before he transformed his companion -- the five minutes it had taken him to locate the items would have been uncomfortable to spend naked.
Ranma was politely averting his eyes, and thumbing his nose. He hesitated, then stripped out of his over-shirt, and his pants, leaving him in a similar outfit. Ryoga shivered a little, seeing where the items had worn thin with use, and clung to Ranma's body with what he sincerely hoped was after effects from the rain. Well, he almost-sincerely hoped.
Okay, so he'd rather it was sweat. But Ryoga didn't let hismelf dwell on that.
As he tried not to let himself dwell on the line of Ranma's torso, the lean muscle in his stomach, the effeminate curve in his hips, and the way his nipples had pebbled to the material.
There was another long silence, and then Ranma sighed.
"Sorry about the accomidations. I wasn't expecting to have company."
He sounded very tired, and he stretched languidly and unconsciously, not even slightly aware of Ryoga's eyes following the movement. There was no embarrassment in his face; only exhaustion. And something else, something deeper....
"Are you all right?" he asked softly.
Ranma shrugged. "Sure, sure. Look, it's late, and--"
"If you're so tired, what were you doing up?" Ryoga heard himself asking.
Ranma sighed again, and looked embarrassed. "Just walking. I had this funny feeling...I don't know. That thing with the wolves was weird, huh?" he asked, trying to change the subject.
"Sure. You should have made a submissive position, then stood, *then* backed away. But what you did was fine," he added quickly.
"What I did was blind panic," Ranma responded with a hint of amusement, and then a bark of laughter. "And we both know it. Look...it's really fun sitting here, talking in the dark, and all.... But can I get some sleep?"
Drat. Ryoga had been hoping to avoid that for a while. "Sure. I guess, I'll just curl up or something by the entrance."
Ranma looked suddenly alarmed. "I don't think so. Too thin clothing, and that gives me a crick in the neck, just thinking about it. I don't have another sleeping bag, but could you...?"
Uh-oh. Here it comes....
"...Could you share this one?"
Ryoga forced an indifferent shrug. "Sure. If you're sure it isn't too cramped...."
"Nah. Might even be nice. The body heat, and all," he added quickly, blushing slightly. So, he isn't completely impenetrable, Ryoga thought with relief. But then next moment, it was gone, and Ranma was just tired again.
After a bit of fussing, they managed to get the sleeping bag in order, but, being that it was a single, it was a very tight fit.
And Ryoga spent half the night blushing, finding that he had a great deal of difficultly sleeping with Ranma's hard body pressed into him. He shifted uncomfortably away from Ranma more than once, calmed his raging hormones, and tilted his hips so that Ranma couldn't feel it when that didn't work.
And all the while, he wondered why the hell his body was doing this to him, why the hell it chose this night to freak out at Ranma's slightest of slight touches. And, oh yes, why he was dreaming all of these strange, fragmented dreams....
Ranma blinked himself awake, and struggled around to get his arm free, then unzipped the sleeping bag, and let out a sigh of relief. It wasn't that the night had been unpleasant, only that it was difficult to breathe. There was another reason for his hasty depature as well, though he would never have admitted it to Ryoga, and certainly not to himself. The warmth of Ryoga behind him made him feel weird.... Weak as the word was, he was a little hesitant to put it into any other catogory. He pushed these thoughts aside, however, and stood. Stood, then dared a glance back at his unconscious companion.
Ryoga had pillowed his head in his arms, opting to let Ranma have the actual pillow, and his face.... Most people looked serene in sleep, but Ryoga's face bore the unhealthy marks of exhaustion and inner war with his spirit. He eyebrows bunched together, his eyelids a coil of fine lines, his nose slightly wrinkled, and his lips in a pout. Every once in a while, he would shudder, digging his face into his arms, then turning it out again. The odd behavior disturbed Ranma a little. He could remember sleeping with Ryoga before, and had never seen anything of this sort on his face. Maybe he wasn't the only one having rough times....
He shrugged, and knelt by the bag he had placed securely within the tent, finding dry clothes, mentally berating himself for leaving his previous days' wear out on the line he'd set up to dry things. He hadn't thought of rain. Just when he'd thought he was getting over things like this...over his callous tendency not to consider...he went and did something stupid like that. But he dressed, not caring if the outfit wasn't color coordinant, and left the tent quickly. Breakfast was on mother nature, and if he didn't hurry, there were more fearsome competitors than his father to contend with.
He set out quietly, as quietly as he could manage, well-aware that even his heightened senses were sneezed at by some animals. He wasn't in the mood to catch birds -- they were a lot of work and little meat. Fine when he was alone, but, as he had learned upon trying to share one with Ryoga, it was difficult to spilt them between two people. Rabbit, maybe? Rabbit was good meat, if a little tough, and he decided on that. They weren't the easiest things to kill, but oh well.
He wandered slowly, mentally keeping track of how far he was from camp, and heard a rustle. Ah. Kneeling, making himself smaller, he waited. It didn't take long.
The rabbit was, he surmised, in that bush over there, cowering in fear from the big preditor it sensed. It also wasn't moving. He would have to flush the damned thing out.
He picked up a stick, level, about as long as his forearm, and threw it in a boomerang. The stick whizzed around, caught the back of the bush, and sent the rabbit forward, panicked-looking.
Ranma leapt. Pounched. He grabbed the creature by the back of its ears, secured a grip on the scruff of its neck, and shook it roughly. It calmed down.
"Man. Wish I could just kill the damned thing," he muttered. But he knew his conscience would kill him for it later.
So he turned, and headed back to camp instead. Not noticing the way the shadows followed him.
* * * *
Ryoga awoke alone, and to the smell of cooking meat. He frowned slightly, maneuvered his way out of the sleeping bag, which suddenly seemed baggy and over-sized, and crawled over to the door. It would be presumptuous to put on any of Ranma's clothes, and he felt fairly certain that if Ranma had any problems with his lack of clothing, he would say something about it. He unzipped the tent flap, and peered out.
It was a chilled morning, but not a cold one by any means. Just cold enough to set off goosebumps along Ryoga's forearms, as he sat, staring at Ranma.
Ranma who was squating in front of the now-blazing fire, a section of *something* on the end of a stick., slowly being toasted over the flames. While Ranma might no nothing of preditor behavior, he knew plenty about the preperation of meat.
"Good morning?" Ryoga asked cautiously.
Ranma shrugged, still keeping his back to the tent. "Better'n some. Not the best. About average. How do you like your rabbit?"
"Oh...medium-well," he answered quietly. Watching Ranma's careful movements, searching for some hole in his defenses.
"Okay. Than this one's for you, I guess." Ranma pulled the thing out again, pryed it onto a plate, and handed it to him, along with a fork that looked as though it had been licked clean. "I already ate," he said sheepishly, and smiled a little, before working his way over to another part of the camp.
Ryoga settled, and began his meal, all the while reminding himself that of *course* Ranma wouldn't have brought another pair of silverware. It wasn't that he minded Ranma's saliva -- he knew the boy had no diseases, and the scent lingering on the head of the fork was one of smoked meat, and...a faint, not unpleasant aftertaste. But still, it trickled in, a faint sense of wrongness about the whole thing. Something bothered him about the exchange.
"So...what are you doing up here?" Ryoga finally asked, deciding he had put off the question long enough.
Where he stood, getting something down from the tree, Ranma stiffened. Almost imperceptibly, his weight shifted, and his tone when he spoke was hardened. "Just camping," he said evenly. He stretched, retrieved a flask, and turned back. His eyes gazed pensively through Ryoga, and he moved slowly to close the distance between them.
"By yourself?" Ryoga was getting that feeling, that uncomfortable sense in the pit of his stomach that he sometimes got when he felt he wasn't being told quite the whole truth.
"Yeah." Ranma squated in front of him, held out the flask. "Some water," he offered.
Taking it, sipping it, Ryoga prodded again. "Why?"
Ranma made no move to answer, simply lowered his head for a moment, then looked up again, and forced a smile. "Just...just felt like it. Can I get you anything else?"
"Something to do with Akane?" No, he was *not* giving this up. Something was wrong.
The smile on Ranma's face froze. Cracked. Reinforced itself. Tightened. "Akane? Yeah. Could say that." He looked distinctly ill. "Look, can we talk about something else?"
"What happened between you two?"
Ranma's guard crumbled completely. His color went ash. "Nothing. Just...nothing. Look, we had an...an argument. It ended. Badly. I don't...." His eyes burned into the ground. "Please," he whispered. "Please, can we talk about something else?"
"Yeah," Ryoga finally conceeded. His expression felt strained. "Yeah, of course we can. Sorry, I didn't.... Sorry." Sounded like a break-up, maybe. It would explain Ranma's behavior, but it didn't explain his being out here, camping by himself. Maybe he was trying to clear his head?
If so, my presence probably doesn't help much, he realized bitterly. I should go....
Ranma sniffled a little, took a deep breath, let it out again, and his eyes were liquid when they refocused on Ryoga. "No problem."
I should stay.
"Would you...mind if I stayed with you up here for a while? At least until I can find my bag?"
"No. No, not at all," Ranma said eagerly. "Just..." his eyes darkened, "no more talking about Akane, alright? You promise?"
"I promise," Ryoga agreed quickly. He sighed.
And he ate the rest of his meal in silence, watching Ranma cook a second portion and then join him, eating bare-handed.
* * * *
The shadows roamed silently past the camp. Watched the first of the males upend a bit of something onto himself, and watched him shrink. Saw the other male look startled and concerned. Watched the second get a case of something, and empty it over the piglet from before, and watched the piglet change back into the second male.
The shadows paused. And lingered.
"So...really, what happened?"
Ranma slowly set down his mug. "I thought we agreed not to talk about her," he said quietly.
Ryoga sighed. "I know.... I just haven't been able to...to think straight, you know? Is she all right?"
The question had been a mistake, he knew it the moment he'd said it. Ranma's eyes glazed over. He flinched slightly, and shut himself down.
"Why...why wouldn't she be?" he asked.
"Because something happened between you two. Ranma, please...as your friend...as Akane's friend...what happened?"
Ranma hesitated for a long moment. Then stood, dusted himself off, and said flatly, "No."
Leaving Ryoga by himself in the silence.
* * * *
"Ranma...."
"If this is about Akane, I don't wanna fucking talk about it, OKAY?!"
Ryoga swallowed, a little taken aback, not liking the set of Ranma's shoulders or the way he was bunching his fists. "It isn't." he answered softly, setting one hand gently on Ranma's arm. "It's about you."
Ranma blinked. "Me?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. "About me?" As though the idea went against all laws of physics.
"Yeah. About you. Look, Ranma...you're acting strange. And, frankly, I don't care for it." He gave Ranma a little shake. "So snap out of it, you hear me?"
The other boy laughed. And laughed, and laughed. Laughed until Ryoga let him go, laughed until he fell to the ground painfully, and still continued to laugh even then. There was no mirth in the sound. Only desperation.
"Ranma...?"
Still, Ranma laughed.
"Ranma!"
Blinking, Ranma fell slowly silent. His eyes went flat again, alarmingly flat, with no pause or pretense of pause, with no transition from the laughter to the non-laughter. Laughing one minute, sloping the next, then silent. He looked like maybe he had never been laughing in the first place, which made Ryoga more than a little uncomfortable.
"What's so funny?" he asked, though he had a feeling he already knew.
"Nothing," Ranma replied shortly. And then stood, and headed back towards the tent. "Just...nothing."
Ryoga sighed deeply, and followed. This wasn't right. None of that was right. You didn't laugh hysterically about nothing. You just didn't.
Unless...but Ranma wasn't insane, so that was besides the point, wasn't it?
He shook his head a little, and caught up with Ranma by the fire again. "So, what's wrong with you."
Ranma's movements slowed, and then he looked up and smiled again. "You hungry? I'm thinking of lunch. How about you? We could hunt, forget about *this* whole thing for a while. Whaddya say?"
"I'm serious, Ranma. What's the matter?"
"Nothing. Nothing's the matter."
"That isn't true."
"Yes it is! Yes it is! NOTHING'S WRONG, dammit!"
"Ranma--"
Ranma spun to face him, and his eyes were wild and uncertain as he grabbed the lost boy by the front of his shirt. "NOTHING! NOTHING, RYOGA, NOTHING!! I DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE, YOU HEAR ME?! I DIDN'T! WHY SHOULD I HAVE TO SUFFER, HMM? ANY IDEAS, SMART-GUY?!"
Ryoga tried to get a grip on Ranma's hands, tried to stop him from shaking his body like it was made of cloth, tried to make him calm down. But something in the words perked his curiousity. Ranma was slipping. "What didn't you do on purpose?" he asked softly.
Ranma hesitated, and he looked horrified and panicked and the ash color came back again. "Nothing," he whispered frantically. "Nothing. I shouldn't...nothing. Okay?"
For a moment, Ryoga remained poised at the awkward angle to the ground, and then Ranma simply let him go, eyes suddenly dark pools of shadow, and shook his head slowly, ruefully, then fiercely.
Sobbing, he fell to the ground, reached his hands up to pull at his hair, frantically tangling his fingers in it, ripping it free from its tie, and attempting to pull it out by the roots.
"I didn't...no...." he whispered, rocking back and forth. He didn't notice when Ryoga knelt beside him, gently put arms around him, pulling his arms down and securing them by his sides where they could do no more damage. Ranma struggled for an instant, vainly, and then fell back to sobbing.
It was a long moment before he stiffened, got a hold of himself, and pushed Ryoga away. He muttered an apology, and then turned stiffly, opened the tent flap, and dove inside, zipping it up again behind him.
Ryoga sighed deeply, clawed at the earth with one hand in frustration, and then stood, and unzipped the tent again. As much as part of him was afraid of what he might see, the rest of him was afraid of what leaving Ranma alone might result in. He shivered a little in preperation.
Ranma was sitting, docile and content, in lotus position, his eyes firmly shut, and when Ryoga entered, and moved a hand to touch his arm, he made no response. Only continued to breathe deeply.
"Ranma?"
Nothing.
"Ramna?"
Still, nothing.
"Ranma!"
More nothing.
Ryoga sighed miserably. Shook his head for what felt like the millionth time and probably was. And gave up on trying to communicate with the living vegetable anymore.
Instead, he sat beside him and meditated as well, or tried to. It is difficult to meditate when your mind keeps wandering back to the physical world. He tensed a little, and lost it completely. Then turned, and looked at Ranma, and moaned inwardly.
"You're right, Ranma." he addressed the unresponsive boy. "Lunch would be good about now."
And he stood, and exited, heading out presumably in search of food.
Ranma opened one eye. Smiled. And followed him.
* * * *
It wasn't long out before Ryoga reached his supplies. He was actually surprised at having found them so easily, but suppressed this for the moment. Now, he simply gathered the backpack and stood and turned to head back to camp.
And found Ranma standing there, demurely, hands folded in front of himself, watching him quietly.
"Whao! You startled me...." he muttered.
Ranma smiled.
That smile made him uncomfortable. Like a lot of things Ranma had done in the last twenty-four hours.
"You followed me?"
Ranma shrugged, didn't stop smiling. "Weren't that hard to follow."
"That wasn't what I asked.... Why?"
His smile wavered a little. Another shrug. "It was something to do." His tone was almost defensive.
"I see. Have any other 'things to do' that I should know about?"
"As a matter of fact...." Then Ranma trailed off. The smile sealed his lips again. He adjusted his stance a little, did something with his hips that drew Ryoga's attention.
"Ah...."
"What are you staring at?" Doing it again.
"N -- nothing...."
"I see. Like my 'nothing', huh?"
"Well, that depends. What was *your* nothing?"
That froze Ranma up again. Shut his mouth, stiffened his body, made him stop smiling.
"Well?"
Ranma just shook his head. Then shrugged again. Then smiled. "Nothing," he replied easily. And the smile turned into a smirk.
"I see. Well, when you feel like coming clean, Ranma, just tell me about it, all right? I promise I won't get upset."
Ranma paused. Clear hesitation. Then moved his gaze to the ground. "Never be clean," he murmured, or something very like it, then looked up again, and his eyes bore those shadows again.
Ryoga shivered. And pretended not to notice. "Coming back to camp withe me? I caught me something...."
"Did you?" Ranma sounded disinterested. "Great. We'll cook it up when we get back, then? Looks like you found your pack, too, huh?" His expression tightened a little. "I guess you'll be leaving soon, then."
"What?" Ryoga blinked. Then sighed. He wanted to leave. He really, really wanted to leave, to get away from Ranma's smiles and whatever the hell was hanging over his head. But he also wanted to stay. He really, really wanted to stay. To stay right here with Ranma's warmth, and to try and figure out and aleave, obviously, whatever the hell was hanging over his head. "No," he said at last. "I think I'll be staying on a while. You mind?"
Ranma smirked. "'Mind', he says. No, Ryoga. No, I don't mind. Haven't minded in a while."
Ryoga didn't like the way that sounded. No, he didn't like it at all. He sighed uncomfortably. "All right. Good to hear," he lied.
And they headed back to camp.
Ranma didn't like this. He didn't want to think about this, to think about her. He wanted the whole damned thing to go away. After all, he wouldn't be here, on the other side of Japan if he didn't. If he didn't just want to forget about it. But then Ryoga had to show up. Ryoga, who he hadn't counted on, who he hadn't wanted anything to do with, who he couldn't bear the thought of explaining the "situation" to.
He hadn't mean to do it. Dear God, but he hadn't meant to do it. It was an accident, an accident, an accident....
The words just repeated themselves in his mind. Endlessly, their meaning sacrificed in the eternal rythem. Accident. Accident.
What does that matter? It happened all the same. You'll never be able to escape it. There was a cliff, a few miles back. Nice and high, rocky bottom. He'd never know you were gone. He'd never be quite sure he wasn't just lost. He'd go home eventually. He doesn't really care, anyway.
Yeah. He'd go home and he'd find out. Then he'd hate me.
Shut up. I don't have time for this. Shut up. Leave me alone.
You don't deserve it. Tell him. Tell him what happened. He'll hate you. You'll see. He always cared more about her anyway. Tell him.
What, so he can try to kill me?
He'll do that anyway. Besides, if he kills you, so much the better. Save you a little trouble.
No, don't trust him.
But I--
Don't trust him. Don't tell him. He'll hurt you. You know he'll hurt you. Don't trust him.
What? That's stupid.
He loves her. What do you think, he's going to thank you? Besides, he never liked you. Never. If he had, he would have back in junior high.
No, she's gone now. Gone. Out of the way. He'll love me. He has to. I got rid of her. There's no one else for him now. He needs someone. Someone he can love, who can love him. He'll love me. I'll make him love me.
Crazy talk. He doesn't even *like* you, let alone love you. He'll kill you. Let him kill you. It's a long walk to the cliff.
No, don't trust him. Don't. He'll ruin this somehow. He'll hurt you. He always hurts you. He doesn't care. He doesn't know.
Ranma blinked at the fire. Tried to stiffle the din in his head. They wouldn't listen to him. They just moved in. Tighter, tighter. Louder. No, leave me alone....
He looked so beautiful the other night. Lying there, next to you. You should have ripped his clothes off. You wanted to, but you didn't. She's gone, it's all right now. You can have him.
No. He hates me. He'd never go for that. You know he wouldn't.
We shouldn't touch him. He's perfect. We can't hurt that. Can't hurt him. No, he's perfect. We're filthy. We touch him, it'll rub off. We can't touch him.
What are you talking about?! He's a *guy*. I can't--
Can't what? Can't what? You are. You want him. You should have taken him last night. He would be yours now. You've always wanted that. He's so beautiful, always beautiful. You have to have him. Take him tonight.
Tell him. Tell him. Not even half a man anymore, are you? No. Ruined. Tell him. He'll kill you. Tell him.
No, that will soil him. We can't. Can't tell him. No. He has to stay pure.
Shut up! Shut up! I can't think!
You don't want to think. You don't want to know how much you want him. You should have. You should have told him back in junior high, before he met Akane. Before the bitch got to him. Your pride kept you from doing that. Don't let it happen again.
Ranma closed his eyes. Focus, he had to focus. He couldn't let this get to him now. Not now. It had been too damned long. Not now.
No. No, it was better that way. He doesn't care, anyway. None of them care. None of them realize what this is doing to you. None of them know, and none of them give a damn. Just go back to the cliff. Don't trouble him with it.
What? What? Are you crazy? The cliff is so far, and he's so close, and dammit, after all the hell he's put you through, he should at least have the decency to help you out a little. You're friends...or you were, once. He has to be willing. The bastard has to.
Don't even bother with him. The damned idiot can just rot in these woods. Remember the gun. Use the gun. It's so much easier.
But Father wouldn't like that....
Fuck honor. The gun. Don't bother him, or anyone. Maybe the wolves will come by and chew on your body. Use the gun. Quick, after he's asleep.
No. No. I don't have to, shouldn't have to. I got away, didn't I? I didn't mean to do it.... I don't have to kill myself. I don't.
That's right. You can have him. Go to him. Go to him now. Tell him the bitch is dead. Tell him you can be together now. She's gone. He's yours.
"Ranma?"
No, don't do that. Don't tell him. He'll hurt you. Just go to the cliffs.
No, dammit, the gun.
Tell him. Tell him. He'll kill you. Tell him.
"Ranma?"
He can make it all go away. He can make the pain stop. Talk to him. Talk to him.
NO! NO! Don't tell him! Kill yourself! Now! Kill yourself!
Tell him. He can help. Tell him. You have to tell somebody.
He'll kill you.
He wouldn't.
He always hurts you.
"Ranma! Ranma, answer me!"
Smile. Smile like everything's just fine. You're crazy, but he doesn't need to know it, not yet. Smile.
Don't tell him. He can't know. He can't.
Tell him. Tell him now. He's right here. One way or another, he'll make the pain stop. Tell him.
Finally, Ranma looked up. Sighed deeply, smiled weakly. "Ryoga?"
Ryoga looked strangely relieved. "Yeah? I mean, yeah. You.... Are you all right now?"
Ranma laughed. Laughed and the voices faded slowly. Laughed and the echoes died down. Laughed and they stopped talking.
Silence. He paused to enjoy it for a moment. Just his own thoughts.
"No, Ryoga. No, I'm not all right."
The words came out of him like air out of a punctured balloon. One way or another.
"It's about Akane, Ryoga. You were right. Something did happen to her."
Ryoga looked...horrified and concered, and his dark eyes wavered, and he hesitated, before breathing out, "What? What, Ranma?"
He knows. He already knows. He's always known, maybe.
The tide of voices was rising again. Filling his head. Worried, nervous. Too loud.
Still, he clutched the sides of his head and moaned out softly, "She's dead, Ryoga. I killed her."
* * * *
The shadows stalked into a clearing, by a cave. Five of them. They paused, and gathered in an almost humanistic circle. The big one raised its silver head, and looked at the others slowly. Then drew in the earth with its paw.
One of the others growled lowly in assent.
The big one morphed. Shape changing slowly, fur melting into silver hair that ran down her back in thick waves. She pulled a strand of lapwing and bound the mass into its usual silky braid. She looked at the others with black eyes, watching as they also changed, shifted. One on her right, a bronze-skinned male, narrowed eyes of jade green.
"I think they're shifters, like the ones by the mountain," he hissed, cainines gleaming as he spoke.
The silver-haired one turned her head slowly, looked at the others. "Markee? What of you? You're the expert on humans."
Markee, the metallic green-haired female in question, looked back at her solemly. "I've never seen any manthings change in shape as they did. They are not of our kind. Their changes were too sudden, with no practice or artistry about it. Too abruptly one thing and the other. And," this directed at the green-eyed male, "I have never seen a shifter that took on the shape of another manthing. That one went from male to female as easily as though gender were a shirt. Lupe," directing this back at the silver-haired pack leader, "I think they are dangerous."
"Nonsense," Whilst broke in suddenly, purple eyes afire with his malcontempt. "How could they be dangerous? They're only manthings."
"Humans," Lupe corrected with her eyes half closed. The young ones listened to Markee, who had no respect for humans. That was the trouble with young ones.
"Shh...." bade Saranth. Her ears had perked up at some sound. Now she stood, and turned towards the bushes. Body moving like silk on silk, she leaned forward and touched the branches of the nearest tree. Her pointed ears were pressed flat against the sides of her head, and she had an irritable expression on her pretty face. "Someone stalks this way."
As one, the pack shifted. And then moved lopingly into the caves, leaving Saranth to stand in guarding position, her brown-black fur rising and falling with her chest. She was nervous, though she'd never confess it to any of the others. The humans, if that's what they were, were unlike anything she had ever seen before, unlike anything she was aware of in the natural world. She waited by the entrance to the clearing, curled up towards the slight opening. Feigning sleep.
One of the humans, the one who went so small, was approaching. She recognized his scent, even from so far off. The moment he entered the clearing, he spied her, and quickly began his way out again.
Damn, she realized. A prime chance to study the thing, and she was letting him get away. Lupe would be angry, but...perhaps, if they could speak to the thing, and learn his secret, they would know whether the things had to be destroyed, banished, or simply left alone.
Decision made, she started from her position, and maneuvered towards him. He looked at her, and froze in place, as the other one had done earlier. He seemed to realize that she was not the pack leader, and he knelt in front of her, hands and feet, and lowered his head until his nose touched the earth. Fascinated, she moved closer to him, nudged his face with her nose, and breathed his scent deeply before regaining humanoid form.
The human thing looked at her for a long moment, shock plain on his face. Then, quite unexpectedly, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he passed out, a fountain of their red blood coming from his nose.
Saranth blinked, and called the others. This was definitely interesting.