Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ Know this, Saotome ❯ It Begins ( Prologue )

Jen Tai Yaung AKA ToMboy-Inu-Rae: Hi! I don't own Ranma

I apologize for anything I might have put down wrong, tell me, and I shall fix!

This has been *REVISED*.

Know this, Saotome

It Begins

~

Tears flowed freely and splattered to the ground.

Ranma looked back at his mother, reaching out to her. He saw her tears and wanted to go and hug her. He didn't want her to be sad.

Yesterday he had found out that his father, Genma, had decided to take him on a training trip to train in martial arts. At first, he was bouncing off the walls in excitement. Finally he was going to be able to be the best! It was his dream to be as good as his father, maybe even better.

But then Genma dropped the bomb. Nodoka wasn't coming with them. His perfect world shattered, and no one picked up the pieces. And to add on top of that, they wouldn't be able to see her for several years at the least. His mother had been the center of his life, even coming before martial arts. He didn't have many friends, and she was the closest thing to him.

Ranma thought Genma had loved him, and he wouldn't do anything that would hurt him, but that changed.

So here he was, being carried in his father's arms and crying over his shoulder, not wanting to leave.

Nodoka waved and tried to smile through her tears.

`Ranma's doing this to become a man. I'll see him again.' she reassured herself. But it strained to stay in place as her son returned the gesture of good bye.

~

Ranma sat by the campfire staring at its depths. The flames rose up, reaching for the endless sky. The firewood curled up and smoked, releasing fumes.

It was like him, he decided. Right now he was the wood, being used to become a great martial artist, which represented the flames. He snorted. As powerful as a fire could be, it could be put out by its weakness. Water. Sometimes he thought this was all a waste. What good did being beaten up by your father do you if it only made you feel weaker?

Ranma snorted again and tossed a few twigs into the glowing embers. His eyes watched them burn and curl up while ignoring the bitter cold. It was near winter once more and all he had to keep warm was the tent, the clothes on his back, and a thin blanket.

This time his father had stopped in the middle of a thick forest, laced with early frost. The cold ground froze his toes, but if he complained, Genma would have gone on and insulted him, calling him weak and shameful. Then he would have followed up with his "how a martial artist's life is filled with peril" speech.

*Some people aren't meant to be fathers, I guess.*

Genma had gone off somewhere and had left him to fend for his own, but he was used to it. His parent did this numerous times, and Ranma knew how to defend himself from any attackers. Well, at least *human* attackers.

His ears picked up no signs of movement; all the animals in this particular area must have strayed away from the odd newcomer lurking in the dirt clearing.

He unconsciously moved closer to the provided warmth and let the light flicker across his body wordlessly. Two packs rested next to him, one slightly larger than the other. The bigger one was opened, and when one looked inside you could see that several bottles of sake, stolen food items, toiletries, better insulated bed supplies, and training manuals marked in red ink.

Although the 10-year-old could have easily snatched the thicker of the two blankets and curled up with it, he didn't bother. The thought was tempting, but it wouldn't do him any good as Genma would find out and start reprimanding him with his martial arts skills. Ranma sighed and brought his knees up to his chest.

This was his so called life; Get woken up by Genma, sparring that led to bruising, endless taunts while he lay down exhausted, fights ending with his mother's "wants", a kata or two, a measly meal of rice, and some more training. Maybe they'd pack up and move on until Genma decided to eat again, another meal of rice, more training, rice and other stolen goods for dinner, and bed.

Ranma sometimes wondered if he'd be better off on his own, or even dead. But he was held by honor, always honor. And if not that, lies and constant deception. Everything was planned out for him, his freedom, possibly future spouse, and where he would go next. Nothing in his life was his own. But if he'd ran off, he doubted that he'd find anyone willing to let him stay, and even then he'd still be relying on something to keep him alive.

The pony-tailed martial artist scowled. He was partly to blame, as he couldn't do much about it. *I bet if I weren't a kid, then I could go and find mom…and maybe Ucchan…"

At the thought of his one time friend, he growled. He remembered that day like it was yesterday:

~*Flashback*~

Genma took Chibi-Ranma into his lap. "Now son… now is the time to make the most important decision in your life. Which do you like better, Ukyo or okonomiyaki?"

Chibi-Ranma sat there, thinking. He turned to his parent and answered, "Umm…Okonomiyaki!" Genma nodded. "Then it's settled; okonomiyaki it is!"

~

Chibi-Ranma cocked his head innocently at Genma when he was placed on the Kounji's yattai. "Papa, what are we doin' with Ucchan's yattai? Ucchan needs to make okonomiyaki with it." Genma stalled for a moment. "Uh, um…it was a… uh - gift! Yeah, a gift!" He chuckled nervously and walked around to the front of the yattai.

Meanwhile, Ukyo was searching for Chibi-Ranma. "Ranchan! Ranchan where are -" He gasped as he caught sight of the two Saotomes. Chibi-Ranma lit up. "Hey Ucchan!" Genma jumped up and took hold of the handles on the yattai and started running down the road.

Ukyo's eyes widened in realization. He started running after them. "Wait! Ranchan!" As the yattai sped up, Ukyo ran for all he was worth, trying to catch up. Tears streamed down his face as he shouted, "Wait! You were supposed to take me with you!" His foot slipped on a stray pebble and he fell to the ground, scratching his knees. He cried out in pain.

"Bye Ucchan!" Ukyo's head snapped up. The okonomiyaki chef-in-training looked after the two, watching as Chibi-Ranma waved to him while they disappeared over the next hill. It became quiet. Then, sobs of anguish punctured the dense tension. Sobs of a heartbroken girl mistaken for a boy. "Ranchan…why did you leave me?"

~*End Flashback*~

The fat bastard tricked him, just like he'd done with everyone else. The merchants, the fishermen, and the restaurant owners. All of them.

Ranma fumed for a moment at his fix, clenching his small hands into fists. His nails dug into his skin, but not hard enough to draw blood. Something inside him kept himself from doing so. Genma _was_ his father after all, and he had taught him the Anything-Goes Martial Arts.

However, if his parent asked for anything later on, he would most likely not have to pay up for it; he was already doing his share by serving as a convenient punching bag and bargaining chip.

Abruptly, a loud snap ruptured the eerie silence that had come over the forest in the past few undisturbed moments…

Ranma's head shot up and he whipped his head around at the noise. It was then that he realized that it had only been a log cracking from being consumed by the campfire. The fire was dwindling down to its last embers, glowing unearthly as it created a dim aura over the clearing.

Ranma yawned. It _was_ getting late. The young martial artist rubbed his eyes tiredly, head drooping to one side. He stretched out his limbs not unlike an exhausted kitten. Not that he wanted to be like one, that is. He dropped over to one side, leaning on the packs being too tired to set up the tent or pull out his blanket for comfort.

Soon, small snores emitted from the small boy, as he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The wind picked up, whistling as it blew its unguided and chilling melody across the vast scenery. Several trees started moving with the breeze that was quickly becoming a gale. The roots and the trunks creaked and groaned, being stretched to their limits. The remaining leaves left on the allegedly desolate branches, not to mention twigs, strained to come loose of their hold to the foliage.

Clouds cloaked the sky, obscuring the view of a bright crescent moon. It seemed that all attention was focused on the bare clearing, bare except for the campsite, and the boy named Ranma.

The wind swiftly moved from its position above to encircle the fire, blowing stray leaves and dust away. The pile of smoldering ash grew once more into a fire, climbing higher and higher with each passing second, and then…

As if the red flames were a solid cloak, they dropped suddenly as they revealed an object.

Silence fell as if an imaginary audience was watching in awe.

If one looked closely, it would appear that the object was the spirit of Ranma, as they looked almost the same. The translucent boy suspended over the ashes had several gold streaks running through his mop of messy hair and through his ponytail. He wore the same tattered gi, but on his hands were black fingerless gloves trimmed with gold that ran up his forearms, stopping an inch before the elbows.

On top of his head was a pair of cat ears (A/N: No, I'm not trying to copy off of Inuyasha, but I don't own that either.) a bit too big for it to have fit "correctly" with the rest of him. One was colored gold, and the other was jet black.

Slowly, the wind cleared the pile of ash away from where the campfire used to be, and the neko-boy was lowered to the ground, his feet making no mark on the frozen ground. As soon as the boy had been set down completely, his eyes snapped open instantly. Hissing quietly, he lowered himself to all fours and curled his hands into paws. His eyes glinted ferally as he checked out his surroundings cautiously.

His ears swiveled wildly, catching any movement made in the silence. Something coughed.

At once they stopped and held fast on one point. The boy slowly turned his head to that direction and focused his attention on the martial artist before him. Sharp senses tracked the living object's slow breathing, trying to determine whether this being was an enemy or prey. If the neko-boy had had a tail, it would have been lashing from side to side.

Ranma groaned and rolled over in his sleep, facing his look-alike, if he had been awake, "dead in the eye" so to speak. The neko-boy's hissing grew louder and he opened his mouth, revealing sharp canines where normal human teeth should have been. His curled hands shifted, ready to bring out his "claws" if attacked.

He padded forward, pausing when Ranma reached up to scratch his ear. The boy crept up and leaned in, trying to determine what he was examining. He arched his neck as he got in closer to his discovery and twitch his nose.

Closer…closer…

"Atchoo!" The pony-tailed martial artist sneezed and banged heads with the neko-boy, knocking the two of them in opposite directions. The translucent boy fell back with a feline yelp and disintegrated into a dust, disappearing into Ranma's body.

Ranma, on the other hand, jumped up into a ready position to spring. After a few moments of silence, Ranma deducted that no one was there to attack, and he opened his eyes. Looking to both sides he scratched his head.

"I thought someone hit me…oh well."

He fell back to his knees and was about to lie down to sleep when he suddenly took notice of the cold. His breath came out in a translucent cloud, very much like his visitor that had just appeared, but of course, he didn't know that.

Pulling his gi tighter around himself he fished through his backpack and pulled out the thin blanket he owned. The boy wrapped it around himself and promptly fell back to sleep.

~

A/N: I just want to take note that the next chapter will not have too much to do with the original Ranma

~

"Reowl!" The neko-boy's face came in contact with the ground at 65MPH, the rest of him shortly joining afterwards with hands splayed out in typical Takahashi-warding. "…Rrroww…ite…" He brought his hands out of the gestures and curled them into paws once again. With a snarl he wrenched his head out of the ground and fell onto his back.

He spat out some grass and rolled over onto his side, eyes narrowing. If he were able to talk, he would have said, "Where in the world am I?" (This phrase is also commonly used by the Hibiki family as well.) He was on a cliff overlooking a vast landscape filled with plateaus and deep canyons grooved in all throughout it. A river split in the middle of the formations and stretched out to places unknown, and in the remoteness beyond, there was an ocean or lake of some sort.

The neko-boy hissed. Water wasn't too fun too play with, and he knew that from some kind of previous experience.

Backing away from that thought the neko-boy shook his head as if trying to clear it, ears flopping with the movements.

He turned away from the cliff edge and spotted a dense forest, similar to the one he was just in. His ear twitched as he picked up a noise coming from deep within. In an instant he was up on his feet and heading silently towards the forest.

He padded along quietly until he was bordering the edge of the foliage. Slowly he started to prowl among the leaves, carefully inching his way through the vegetation. Suddenly the noise faltered, and he jerked to a stop. Quickly spotting a tree, he leapt up and scaled the trunk stealthily.

Dark eyes peered through the leaves, darting from one spot to the next like lightning. Any form of life that may have been present just then would be uncovered, as a loud kiai rang through the hushed forest, scattering beings from the area.

A sound of rustling leaves rang through the air shortly afterwards.

The limb the neko-boy had been resting on waved up and down as the momentum moving it had almost bent it to the point of snapping the branch.

~

A pebble flew and bounced off of a tree trunk, courtesy of a martial artist's foot. It was ignored as the girl slid down into a quick leg sweep and dodged an imaginary punch.

She flipped backwards and landed softly on her feet, shifting her stance as she landed. Holding her position she opened her slate-blue eyes and looked around at the clearing.

The dirt was full of scuff marks and a tree trunk near the edge had a slight imprint in it from being kicked repeatedly. Her green hair was pulled up in a messy ponytail somewhere between a girl's high pony tail and a boy's low one.

She was wearing black pants and a grey gi top, and was wearing a katana slung over her back.

Her and her belongings were covered in dust and sweat as she had been going at training for over an hour straight. For a moment she paused and panted, trying to catch her breath.

Using her sleeve she wiped off her glistening forehead and shaded her eyes against the morning sun. It was hot that day, and she had noticed when she started training, as the amount of perspiration increased greatly. The temperature usually didn't reach such high temperatures in the Mind, but she shrugged it off as another odd mystery of the Mind.

She then brought her hands up in front of her and bowed to her former "opponent". Although she had already worked out for a long time, she decided to see how long she'd last and moved onto her weapons training.

A hand reached back and slid the katana out of its place behind her and held it in front of her. The usually sharp edge had been dulled for safety reasons, now becoming more like a sakabatou (sp?) rather than a weapon. Constant use showed in the nicks of the blade and the worn down handle, but it was still handled from day in to day out.

Grasping the handle with two hands the girl made no hesitation as she slid into another kata, this time slicing through the air with her weapon. As she worked her way into a rhythm, she closed her eyes once again and tried to lose herself into the well learned patterns practiced repeatedly.

It wasn't a particularly hard kata, as she went through it every morning for her sensei, but something kept her from loosing all focus of the outside world.

*Something's not right here…* She slashed upwards with her katana, moving back as she did so. The girl twisted herself in the opposite direction, bringing the weapon horizontal to her face. She struck forward with it next, noticing a change in her surroundings. The blade lashed too far out and the martial artist stumbled forward, trying to regain her footing.

Sensing something enter within 30 feet of her she halted her motions abruptly. Her eyes snapped open and she held the katana in a ready position by her side, calling out, "Who's there?!"

A twig snapped, telling her that her stalker's previous hiding spot was abandoned.

Grey-blue orbs narrowing, she let her katana drop to her side in a harmless mode so that it barely managed to scrape the ground with its tip.

She turned slowly, keeping her senses alert for movement. Her muscles tensed as she picked up something faint around her.

Around her, the trees started rustling, but it was too fast to tell where the intruder was exactly. "Come out, come out wherever you are…" she muttered to herself.

A pause, and then…

She jerked her head to the left in time to see a bright object hurl past where her face had just been a moment ago. The girl blinked, and reached up to touch her face. There was no mark or outside injury, although the object had come so close to grazing her skin that she could feel the heat it had emitted.

She quickly looked up and followed its path, her eyes widening. That…*thing*, or whatever it was had torn a tree to shreds and taken down another tree. Had she not moved, her brains would have been minced and splattered all over to the ground.

The martial artist shuddered and shook her head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking of gross images, especially of her inner organs. As she was occupied with this small distraction, her stalker took advantage of it, eyes gleaming predatorily in the shadows.

He shifted his body and coiled himself for the kill.

"…Reeowl!" A head snapped upwards at the noise. Her attacker sprang up and leapt for the girl. The female martial artist flipped backwards and turned her head to face him, bringing up her katana in defense. She gasped as he sprouted claws of some kind and reached for her neck.

"No!"

~

~Hey, how's that for a cliffhanger, huh?

-R&R!

-Jen Tai Yaung