Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Hold Fast To Dreams ❯ Prologue & Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Ranmaverse except an old shoe and a bouquet of dead roses. If you sue me, you will acquire nothing but my bills, as that is all I have to my name.

Mitsukiro comes from my own twisted imagination.

AN, pre-story: This will eventually be yaoi, which means male/male relationships, so if you have a problem with that, don't read it!

-^-Hold Fast To Dreams-^-

_Prologue_

Mitsukiro Omoto was once a promising young painter and martial artist. His skill with a brush was only bested by his skill on the school training mats. As a fourteen-year-old prodigy of his father, a national Kendo champion, Mitsukiro's parents couldn't be more proud of their only son. And with his fascination for the thirteen-year-old Tendo girl so overwhelming that he dared not paint any other subject, the Omoto's were quite certain that there was an overly bright future for Mitsukiro. Then, one day, tragedy struck.

A freak accident, people called it. Neither of his parents saw the truck veering over the line, entering their lane at overwhelming speed. The driver of the truck had had a heart attack, they explained to Mrs. Omoto. There was no one to blame for the taking of her husband's life, or the permanent disability of her only child. His seizures would prevent him from ever painting again, and his Kendo career and chance at a normal life was gone forever. Depressed and defeated, Mrs. Omoto decided that in order for her son to receive the best care possible, they would move away from Nerima and live with her spinstress sister.

Once settled in Shinogawa, Mrs. Omoto insisted that, although Mitsukiro's disability would prevent him from ever becoming a prizefighter like his father, the young boy deserved to still train, as much as he possibly could, considering his condition. As the years went on, the seizures became less frequent and the training more intense. However, the accident still seemed to have left an impression on Mitsukiro's mental capabilities. For days at a time, Mitsukiro would say nothing and gaze off into space; or he would begin to draw, a bit like he used to. It was the same face, over and over again, always the face of a young girl with long hair and warm eyes.

One day, Mrs. Omoto received a letter from an old friend in Nerima, chock-full of all the latest happenings about town. "Oh, how nice. The youngest Tendo girl is engaged to marry." Mistukiro's head snapped up from his drawings, ears piqued. "Hmm, Ranma Saotome. Saotome... I think I remember that name." The rest of her words were lost to Mitsukiro, who began to involuntarily shred the piece of paper he had been drawing on. Bits of the drawing were snowing onto the ground. First an eye, then a lock of hair, then a hand were slowly making their way to rest on the mat. His eyes, a rich deep gold normally, were glowing a hot hot red. He quietly and steadily got up from the table and made his way silently to his bedroom, where his things were already waiting for him.

Nobody ever heard from Mitsukiro Omoto again.

_Chapter One_

The Tendo family, including their two shape-changing adopted orphans Genma and Ranma, were headed to yet another holiday weekend at a remote Hot Springs outside of the Tokyo area. Along they brought Ryoga, the eternal Lost Boy, as he happened to stumble onto their doorstep only minutes before leaving (this of course was at the insistence of Akane, who thought Ryoga needed the vacation). Thus our tale begins...

"C'mon, slowpokes!" screeched a harrassed Akane, reaching with her free hand to grab her remaining luggage, albeit very heavily. Dragging it along the ground, she left the struggling pair of martial artists to carry the rest of the suitcases, which were quite numerous. Ranma, gagging under the weight, hefted two up onto his hunched shoulders and took a tentative step towards the inn. He watched in guarded amazement and open jealousy as the Lost Boy picked up the remaining bags and carried them easily, overtaking Ranma immediately and whistling the whole time. Ranma's eyes narrowed to slits and he growled underneath his breath as Ryoga caught up with Akane and hefted her oversized load into his already full arms; Akane gave him a grateful smile that just incensed Ranma even further. 'Fine, let him play chivalrous male. I'll just beat him to a pulp later,' he thought.

As they settled in (the three girls getting a suite to themselves, Soun and Genma sharing, which left Ranma and Ryoga together), the mood lightened considerably as all the hard work was finished for the day; everyone was looking forward to a nice soak in the hot springs.

"Ah, boy, this is the life," said Genma contentedly as they submerged themselves into the hot pool. Ranma leaned back, resting his arms along the edge and closed his eyes, letting all the tension drain from his body. He opened them only when he heard a gentle splashing sound; Ryoga had entered the spring. Ranma eyed him unabashedly as Ryoga's lower half was sinking into the water.

"Yo, Ryoga," Ranma said, "on the way here I noticed a clearing in the woods not too far that'd make a great place to get some practice in. Would you wanna maybe go spar afterwards?"

"Sure, Ranma," said Ryoga, not noticing the wicked gleam in the other boy's eye. The Lost Boy dragged a towel over to him and soaked it in the springs, bringing it up to his head and wetting his hair. "Ahh, much better," he sighed, leaning back much like Ranma had a minute ago.

After the soak, the two martial artists headed off into the surrounding woods of the inn, Ranma leading (obviously) and Ryoga keeping a close watch on Ranma's back, so as not to lose him. As they entered the clearing Ranma had spoke of, they surveyed the space. Both near-masters of their respective Arts mentally noted the length and width of the ovaled clearing, making sure they'd have enough room to move about. As they both pronounced it satisfactory, they began to square off, sizing each other up.

Ranma made the first move, uncharacteristic for him. Ryoga dodged somewhat easily, not having the speed of the smaller boy. As Ranma's kick went flying past the fanged one, Ryoga swatted at him in mid-air, pelting the pigtailed boy unceremoniously to the ground. "Good try, Ranma," the Lost Boy grinned cockily.

This just proved to spur Ranma on, as he was already heated because of the luggage incident earlier. He picked himself up and launched a wave of attacks, this time his movements too fast for the Lost Boy to dodge; Ryoga took the last two kicks fully in the face. Blood spurted into the air above Ryoga as he fell heavily to the ground.

The fanged boy wobbled painfully into a sitting position, and forfeited the impromptu match. He looked up into Ranma's face, and watched it soften as the pigtailed martial artist looked at Ryoga's, covered in so much blood from the corners of his mouth. "Ranma, why...?" Ryoga trailed off, searching the other's face for the reason behind the vicious attack. "I thought it was just a friendly match," he continued, wiping blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.

Instantly ashamed at his actions, Ranma helped the fanged boy up. "I guess I just got carried away," Ranma said, not looking Ryoga in the eye. "Come on, let's just call it a night and go back to the inn." He looped an arm around the bandanna'd boy's back to help steady him.

Ryoga pushed Ranma away and unsteadily took a few steps back. "I don't need your help Ranma. And don't think I'm fool enough to believe you 'just got carried away.' I know hatred when I see it, believe me," his voice lowered to a near-whisper, "because I've been on the other end, too."

For a few minutes neither boy said anything, Ranma just looking hard into Ryoga's face, searching. Ryoga kept his gaze toward the ground, willing his mind not to recall all the fierce, hate-filled attacks on Ranma he had launched in the past. The directionless martial artist broke the silence first, saying "You know, we really should get back to the inn. It is getting awful late," he added as he surveyed the incoming gloom of the forest. Ranma nodded, and the two made it back relatively easily, Ryoga only having to be turned around twice. As they walked away from the clearing, however, they both heard a small sound come from the opposite end of it. Stopping, but unable to distinguish what it was, both boys wrote it off as a night creature wandering the forest and continued back.

Had either of the two boys actually taken the time to look back into the clearing as they headed out of it, they would have seen a rather odd sight; because standing in the middle of it was a man, not much older than the two martial artists, with long golden hair, and two glowing red orbs for eyes. He chuckled softly under his breath, watching them walk away.

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To Be Continued...