Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Chained World: The Fall of the House of Kuno ❯ Lost, but Free ( Chapter 21 )

This was originally published by me under the name Anduril at Anime Addventures, with the only changes being a few corrections in spelling, punctuation and the occasional word choice. If you like the beginning of my story but think I've gone off the rails, or have your own ideas for a great branch-off, or think I'm taking too long to update and want to continue the story yourself, come to Anime Addventures and join in the fun!

I claim no ownership rights to any of the works of Rumiko Takahashi or Tman.

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by Tman

Ryoga Hibiki wandered, paying little attention to his surroundings, and pondered.

He had a lot to ponder.

He'd finally made his way back to Nerima, found his way to the Tendo Dojo again, and there immediately found an atmosphere more befitting a wake.

He'd then immediately jumped to the conclusion that Ranma was somehow responsible, and demanded to know where that miscreant was, and what he'd done to cause so much sadness, and that he'd set the villain right.

He was only partially, not even half, right.

Being machine-gun slapped by Akane, Nabiki, Kasumi, Ukyo, and Ranma's mother had ended his tirade FAST. And he was grateful afterwards that they'd shown mercy enough to sit the Lost Boy down, and correct his misassumption, with a minimum of additional bloodshed. The fact that Genma Saotome had been flexing his muscles in ways that suggested some painful powerful martial arts techniques ready to be unleashed, the gleam on Nodoka Saotome's drawn family honor blade and Ukyo's naginata (what had happened to her battle spatula?), and the edge in the voices of the Tendo daughters as they got him quickly up to speed, had cut his objections, though fortunately not his throat, short. Then they'd left him to cool off and digest what he'd learned.

It was enough to make him get up and wander around and out. It was that big.

A part of Ryoga Hibiki tried to rejoice; wasn't his longtime nemesis, that archfiend, that enemy of women, bane of Akane's life, his tormentor and cause of all his woe, going to his just deserts? Losing his freedom for possibly all time? Losing the very Art he cheated with, that he flouted in Ryoga's face every time they met, that he lived and breathed...forced to give it up along with his free will? Losing his manhood? Forced to give herself up to the unwanted attentions of a man she hated? Being violated as a matter of course, and there was nothing she could do about it? Didn't that match as perfect a description of hell, as close as mortals could make it?

Shouldn't Ryoga be cheering this? Working to make sure the new status quo went unchallenged? Wasn't this the chance he'd been waiting for? An open path to his happiness?

Only, Ranma was gone, and Akane was STILL unhappy.

And from the way she spoke and acted, and the way she and her sisters were, he just knew that, whatever else Ranma might have done in the past, he was not only forgiven, he was honored, and they would not see anyone defame him.

That defamer of the fair Akane, that enemy of women, that smug arrogant blowhard that made Akane cry?! That cocksure bane of my existence?! Couldn't anybody see — ?!

Ryoga squashed that bubble of outrage when he realized he was beginning to sound a lot like Kuno, and as Ryoga thought more and more about the situation, the more he realized THAT was not someone he wanted to be like.

Kuno ... the one who in Ryoga's absence, had forced the Tendo patriarch to choose between his life and his family, to buy time. An honorable choice, but it had required that Akane to deliver the final stroke to her father. Ryoga hadn't come back in time before or after then. He hadn't been there to offer solace, or come up with another plan to spare them any, or further, grief.

Ranma had, and Ranma had made the decision, made the penultimate sacrifice to match. Ranma had been THERE.

Ryoga hadn't.

Oh, sure, he couldn't, not like Ranma had. What could he offer the Kunos? A free pork sandwich?! But still, he hadn't had the opportunity to know if he could have made that choice to give up his own safety and security, his own very being, for the Tendo daughters.

Once again, Ranma had trumped Ryoga.

This wasn't going to stand. This couldn't stand. How could he prove himself the more powerful, the more honorable, the better man, if, simply by suffering abjectly, Ranma would always beat what Ryoga could conceivably do?

Ryoga began to appreciate what power a martyr had.

Ryoga could only prove himself against his rival in person, with both on an equal ground, and that was impossible as long as she was a slave. But that meant Ryoga had to find some way to end that particular problem. Then, and only then, could they settle matters as they SHOULD be settled.

Oh, face it; Ranma's the closest thing I've got to a friend! True, he's the sort of the friend I want punch out every time I see him, but without him life seems somewhat less ... interesting.

No, his previous outrage was a thing of the past. He'd been slowly coming to the realization that he wasn't as intent on his rival's death and destruction as he thought he might have been. This latest development, however, was a real game-changer, a fundamental shift in the balance of power between Nerima's martial artists. As far as Ryoga was concerned, Kuno had well and truly cheated with his actions, had shed very real blood by his actions, however indirectly, and hurt people Ryoga and Ranma both held in their affections. Against THAT crime, Ryoga's own claims of compromised happiness paled in comparison.

No more spur-of-the-moment teaming up with Kuno to beat up on Ranma, no more schoolyard feuding, no more false alliances; that was another thing of the past. It was time to drop the old animosity, draw his line in the sand, take a stand, and start living up to his own claims of Justice and Honor.

Pausing on the steps of a large building, Ryoga punched his hands in the air and screamed to the heavens.

“THIS ISN'T OVER, RANMA! I'LL FREE YOU FROM KUNO'S SLAVERY! I WILL FREE YOU FROM HIS VILE CLUTCHES!! I WILL RESTORE YOUR FREEDOM!!! I, RYOGA HIBIKI, WILL BREAK THE CHAINS!!! THIS I SWEAR!!!”

Dropping his fists, he took a deep breath and gathered himself, and then became aware of being watched. He nervously looked up and met the rapt gazes of dozens, perhaps hundreds, of faces of all races of people.

Self-consciously, Ryoga realized he was the center of attention of a substantial crowd of onlookers.

Enough people in the throng of people visiting the Washington D.C. Mall that day knew Japanese to understand what the young travel-worn man on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial (raised by the Freedmen's Bureau to honor the President felled by a diehard racist assassin) had just declared to the world. Their cheering ignited applause from the rest of the onlookers, sensing that some momentous event had just happened, that continued to swell in volume and enthusiasm until the monuments and buildings themselves echoed the sentiment back.