Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Beautiful Girl ❯ And if I die before I wake... ( Chapter 7 )

Thicker than blood

Tears cutting trails in soft cheeks,

burning indignation and hypocrissy.

The failures of the future,

haunting and taunting.

A night of fire,

a moon of ice.

Protective hope and necessary lies,

melting away in the wake of foolishness.

Toxic smoke scarring a kind heart,

polluting an ivory soul.

Bells ringing,

hailing the wedding between

fate and destiny.

A child is sacrificed for blood,

and contempt is offered as a tribute,

to a dark master.

Harbingers of damnation.

Never forget the death of innocence,

the willing martyr of yourself.

Never forget a history recorded,

written in an ink thicker than blood.

Beautiful Girl

A fanfic by

Dianna Tsuki, A.k.a:

'Saberwulfe'

Chapter 7 And if I die before I wake...

Note: The poem 'Thicker than blood' was written by me as well. If you write a poem and would like me to post before any chapter, both future or previous then send it to 'cherryblossomelf@yahoo.ca'. I'll review it and reply. If it works, then I promise you will get credit, as well as be emailed the chapter before I post it. I would also love to have some side stories, and I give my blessing to anyone who writes one. All that I ask is that I get some credit and get either the address of where it's posted or it's title. Thanx a bunch!

-Dianna

Nerima was gripped in an unusually tight fist of darkness. The starless night offering no comfort for those who often sought release in its cool embrace. Inside two buildings, a bitter rivalry long thought dead began to burn once again. Those who lived nearby had an uncanny sense about the two rivals, a deep ingrained warning system that sent them to the lower parts of their houses in order to wait out the forecoming storm. Tonight would be one of those nights.

In the first building, two figures rose. Oblivious to the others movements they each had their own battle to fight, they each had their own monsters to face. Both were very similar to each other. First, they both practiced very similar martial arts, even if they appeared different on the surface. Second, they both had a familiar life style, though it was much more apparant. Third, both were very familiar with the concept of revenge-turned-love-turned-heart-ache. And finally, both were used to solving their problems in the same method: by fighting. Tonight promised to make a sleeping world tremble like a child caught in the grip of a hellish nightmare.

*****

Konatsu rose and moved towards his dresser. It was old, and barely held together by the nails that littered it at strategic points, but it worked. She opened the first drawer and took out a plastic box, inside was a wide variety of make-up - ranging from his earliest, cheap purchases to her later more refined and expensive tastes. But their was one...

He pulled a lipstick and stared at in dread. This thing represented her past, the very thing he had hidden from all those years ago. When she had met...Li, the ageless and damn near invinceable Chinese ninja. He had fallen in love with the mobile enigma, despite the fact that Li ignored her sometimes blatant advances, he still loved the shinobi. Then she discovered Li's dark secret: Li...

He squeezed her eyes shut. No! It wouldn't help to think about that now, but rather face the shinobi once again.

Konatsu (does anyone know his/her last name? -Dianna) popped the top of the lipstick off and twisted the bottom, the make up was a maroon so deep, that it might as well have been black. He raised it up and began to trace careful symbols across her face.

"Born into darkness," he murmered, "To live in obscurity and perish in ignorance, that is my fate." she spoak the oath he took so many years ago, one of the few good things her step mother taught him. "The touch of light is a privilage that I have forfeited for the sake of power." she closed his eyes as she began to trace the last symbol. "The hunger of darkness consumes my soul, for I have become as one with the spirit of shadows." he opened her eyes. "Atashi wa kunoichi."

She moved to his closet, and quietly opened it. Inside was a sight that comforted her. Namely dresses, blouses, kimono's and his current favourite: a red and silver Chinese dress, a gift from Xian-Pu-san. But farther back, was her dark secret. A nightmare. He carefully parted the clothing and pulled a heavily bound chest out. There was no lock on it, for none was needed: the mere memory was enough to keep the kunoichi from opening it. Until now.

She pulled the latch off of the front and carefully pushed the lid back. There was no spray of light, no kladeiscope of lightning or deep evil laughter. Just a haunting tsunami of memories, written in a thick crimson ink.

He reached into the old wooden chest, and pulled out a shinobi-gato. Like the markings on her face, it was an extremely dark purple. Beneath it, was two bandoleers; one with shuriken the other with kunai. He shut her brown eyes, underneath all of this, burried at the bottom of the chest...they waited.

He could them calling for her, thirsty for the sweet wine of blood. They demanded satisfaction.

"Why are you doing this?" he wondered, "Why unseal them?" that question kept running through her mind as he donned the shinobi-gato and attached the bandoleers in an 'x' pattern on her chest. Then, his eyes fell on them. So simple looking, glimmering in an etheral light. Just like Li's...

"God, be merciful." she begged then snatched the weapons and vanished out his window.

*****

"...Ran-chan." she whispered, with a voice that held both bitterness and excitement. It was amazing how one little name could cause such a tempest of emotion in her. Those two words brought out fear, longing, hope, desire, hate, love, yearning and loathing, all mixing together like some bizzarre brew.

Ten years ago, she gave up her very life in order to give birth to vengeance. This rage to the form of an effeminate boy who used a baker's peel and a bandoleer of throwing spatula's, or spaturikens. He took up his family's nearly dead art of Ninjitsu. If the baker's peel were to be changed for a katana, and the spaturikens for kunai or shuriken, the art would still be the same.

Then he found someone he thought he had lost. A heart that unknowingly shattered his own and lead Ukyo to commit a different type of seppukku. The girl she once was had vanished, likely forever, and this strange hate filled boy had taken her place. But Ukyo discovered that she wasn't the only one who had suffered that the hands of another. That boy she had fallen in love with, the one with the childish heart and big laughing eyes, had dissappeared into hiding. In his wake, a killer bearing poor Ran-chan's name appeared. This 'Ranma' had acted honorably enough, but in his eyes lay a haunted story and a deadly gaze. A kind of wanting, a lust for the red drink that flowed beneath the skin. It barely held it's violence in check, but once in a while it surfaced.

Ukyo strapped her bakers peel to her back and squeezed her eyelids closed. She could still remember the look he gave Ryoga. A taunting smirk that screamed 'I'm still better, and you know it', but in a much crueler, deadlier way. As if daring Ryoga to carry through on his desire to slay Ranma. To give Ranma a reason to tear the lost boy asunder.

Ukyo walked over to her window and opened it, her eyes opening sadly and a tear trickling down her face.

She still blamed them all: Akane for taking her Ran-chan away, Genma for scaring the little boy into hiding, Mousse for humiliating him and driving him further into his shell, Cologne for sharpening the blade of the killer that had taken Ran-chan's place, Happoussai for giving him a reason to use the blade, Shampoo for trying to bury her Ran-chan and herself for letting it all happen. But most of all, she blamed Ran-chan for being so honorable amist a sea of hypocrissy and dishonor. For allowing her to fall in love with him again.

That single tear fell from her cheek, tumbled down towards the earth and splashed noislessly against in a puddle: product of the evening rain. That lone tear was all she would weep for Ran-chan, and all she could allow herself.

Then she vanished out into the night, to face off against that Chinese bastard: Mousse.

*****

"You're a fool." no anger or malice, just a simple statement from a seemingly cold-hearted male.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It doesn't matter at this point." nonchollant and female, a smirk appeared on it's lips.

"That makes us both fools, does it not?" the male grunted.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It doesn't matter at this point." the male quoted. Both were silent for a moment, before the female spoke in a bitter voice.

"The foolish leading the blind into the unknown. How utterly cliche."

"Careful, that kind of thinking is what created Kuno Tatewaki." the male noted.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It doesn't matter at this point." again silence followed for a brief moment before the conversation continued.

"Well then, perhaps the two fools should go out and taunt destiny." the female rose with the male from the sitting position they shared, arms wrapped in an embrace.

"You believe in destiny? Since when?"

"I don't." the female stared, incredulously.

"Then why do this? Do you think it will really make a difference?" a small, knowing smirk appeared on the male's face.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. It doesn't matter at this point."

End of Chapter 7

Why does Ukyo hate Mousse?, What is the deal with this 'Li' guy anyhow, what is his secret? What are Konatsu's demons? Find out in the next chapter!

Questions, Comments, Ideas, Flames?

email Dianna Tsuki @ cherryblossomelf@yahoo.ca.