Subject: [FFML] [REFUGE][r.5]Lost Days Lamenting Lost Days Parts 6-7 by asheschan
From: "David A. Tatum" <desaix@sysnet.net>
Date: 7/21/2001, 2:41 PM
To: "FFML" <ffml@anifics.com>

To reply, post publically or e-mail the author at <slayerette0@yahoo.com>
Enjoy!

The FFML Refugee List

Disclaimer:  Don't own Ranma.  Other people do. 
Whatever.

Note: C&C is appreciated . . . but you need to have
read the previous chapters to know what's going on.
Grammar help would be most helpful, especially if you
spot an odd typo or little nonsensical thing.  There
always seems to be something I've missed...

Previous chapters can be found at fanfiction.net under
author name ashes2ashes.

----

Lost Days Lamenting Lost Days
Part 6

Ukyou sipped her soda idly and settled back against
her couch.  The stars had not yet faded from the early
morning sky, leaving her living room illuminated only
by the small TV in the middle of the room.  Ukyou
usually tried to catch the morning news before the
breakfast rush.  It always helped to calm her nerves,
even if it was always bad news.  The kitchen segment
was good for a couple of laughs.  The silly fool, how
could you have food and not fighting?  The two went
hand and hand.  It was so very . . . wrong.

The television flashed as the anchorman appeared on
the screen.

"Today, authorities arrested the long sought after
Doppelganger killer.  Police received an anonymous tip
late last night, and found the suspect unconscious and
tied to a lamp post.  We should have more on this
breaking story at noon.  In other news--"

"It's nice to know there are still people like Ranma
honey out there."  She took a bite of her experimental
American okonomiyaki and grimaced.  Putting potato
chips, cheese, and a couple of other gajin foods
together had sounded like a good idea on paper.  But
in reality, it was a small flat heart attack on a
plate.

With a deep sigh, she picked up her half eaten
breakfast, turned off the television (that damn
cooking show was on again), and walked to the
restaurant area.  The freshly mopped and scrubbed
counter top and floor welcomed her with a wave of
lemon.  She might have overdone it a bit with the
cleaner . . .

She wrinkled her nose and went to prepare the
restaurant for the morning rush.

She envied the other kids at school.  Most of them
would be still asleep, in their nice warm beds . . .
like Akane . . .  It wasn't fair.  Where did her damn
childhood go?

She shook her head.  It wasn't good to dwell on the
past.  She did that for ten years and look what it got
her, an empty restaurant.  Granted, things could be
worse.  She wasn't on the streets or anything.  Hell
would freeze over before she let that happen to
herself.

What was she even doing here?  Ranma loved Akane,
proving that love was blind . . . and deaf . . . and
apparently no longer has any feeling from the neck
down.  She had no reason to be here, save her
restaurant.  Maybe she could move . . .

Nah, she had come to know people here.  Some of them
were very scary people but still . . . normal was so
boring.  If all the crazy people just disappeared from
Nerima, it just wouldn't be home anymore. 

She paused.

Well she could always do without Happy.  But wishing
for something never made it true.

---

Somewhere in a remote location in Japan . . .

"What a haul!"  The ancient pervert known as Happosai
laughed to himself as he trudged through and abandoned
wheat field.  The night sky was pitch black and void
of stars, save for one lone ball of light that
twinkled in the distance.

It had been nearly two months since he'd been back to
Nerima.  Oh!  How the pretty ladies must miss him!

"Don't worry sweetums I'm coming back!  Nothing can
stop me!  Nothing can keep me away from the pretty
ladies!"

Unnoticed by Happosai, the distant star moved.

"Ah my pretties."  He swung his bag of underwear
playfully.  "Akane here I c--

Happosai blinked as a bright light illuminated his
face.

"What the--"  He felt his body being ripped to pieces
and seized by some kind of beam.  A blinding flash of
light illuminated the area for a brief second.  The
star in the sky vanished.  A large bundle of underwear
fell to the ground in the empty field.

Happosai, the lecherous pervert that had tormented
thousands of women throughout history, was never seen
again.

And no one cared.

---

"If wishes were fishes."  Ukyou laughed to herself and
started up the grill.  Wishing was a nice pass time
for long haired princess in towers but it never got
anything done.  Besides, she had things to do before
she could make major life decisions.  Like explain to
Ryouga that the girl he was in love with was in love
with someone else, his mortal enemy no less,  and that
he was going to have to move on with his life, like it
or not.

Gee, life sure was fun.

She had to break it to him lightly.  Maybe she could
take him shopping?  The boy could use more than one
pair of clothes.  Didn't he ever get tired of yellow? 
And that headband . . . it did NOT match everything,
despite what he may think.  The mountain man hair
style was not working either.

Perfect!  She'd take him to the mall, have lunch, get
a haircut, and then crumble his hopes and dreams into
dust.

Ukyou wrinkled her nose.

"Well I guess you can't have everything."  She paused
and stared out the window at the rising sun.  It was a
good plan but it had one tiny snag . . .

She had to FIND him first.

---

The sun rose slowly over the mountains, bathing the
forest clearing in a soft-orange light.  Shadows
slithered from nooks and crannies like reptiles.

Ryouga went through the graceful movements of a simple
kata.  Sweat dripped off his body like rain.  His bad
leg burned as he executed a slow sidekick.

Focus.

Punch.  Kick.  Sweep.  Breath.

His muscles wouldn't do what he wanted them too.  Just
a few months ago, he could have preformed the kata
with ease, not even breaking a sweat.  Now he felt
like he was in a strangers body.  His muscles felt
alien and weak.

HE HATED TO FEEL WEAK!

"Baksai tenketsu!"  A boulder exploded into tiny
shards before his eyes.  At least some things still
worked.  He slid to his knees, breathing heavily.

"I'm never going to be able to defeat Ranma now."  But
that's what everyone expected wasn't it?  It was the
way the universe worked.  Ranma was best, and Ryouga
was allowed to be second best sometimes.  We couldn't
let Ryouga win.  Oh no.  Then Ranma wouldn't be the
best and the whole damn world would explode.

"I've got a sense of direction now and what can I do
with it?  I can find Ranma but I can't beat him, Akane
wouldn't be impressed by something it was already
supposed to have, and he still had this damn curse . .
."  Ryouga froze and looked up suddenly.  Why hadn't
he thought of it before?!

He ran and grabbed his bag.

"Ranma Saotome!"  He raised his fists in the air. 
"I'm going to Junsekyou!  AND I'M NOT BRINGING YOU
BACK ANY DAMN WATER EITHER!!!"

Five minutes later . . . 

Ryouga stopped and frowned.

"Uh . . . how do I get to Junsekyou anyway?"

---

The sun had already set by the time Ryouga set foot in
Nerima again.

His plan was simple; sneak into Akane's house as
P-chan, steal Genma's map, and get out.  He wasn't too
happy about having to steal.  But there was probably
plenty of things Genma had gotten away with that he
needed punishing for.  And all Ranma had to do was ask
Cologne for one.  Or Shampoo.  He might even have the
stupid map memorized.  Besides, he wasn't going to
keep the map forever.  He was just borrowing it . . .
for a very long time.

He walked under a bridge, casting his body into
shadow.  A fog rolled off the water, obscuring the
path..  Discarded beer bottles littered the ground
like urban flowers.  A hobo must have been by here. 
Ryouga glanced over his shoulder.  Whoever it had been
was long gone.

He shifted the weight of his backpack on his
shoulders.  Something glittered on the surface of the
water for a moment.  Dismissing it as the moonlight,
he continued on.

The light flickered briefly again.  It looked almost
like thin hands reaching from the depths of the water
. . . thin . . . human hands

"Shit."  He rushed forward.  The mud next to the bank
squished underneath his shoes.  Careful not to slip,
he peered over into the murky depths.  The mist
cleared for a moment, revealing a slightly decayed
human body caked in slime.  The current slowly turned
the body on its side, exposing its lifeless brown
eyes.

Ryouga stepped back and blinked in shock.  When he
opened them again the body was gone.  The water flowed
serenely on as if nothing had ever been there . . .

He wiped his brow with the back of his hand and took a
cautious step backward.  Mist clung to the ground in a
death grip.  All was still save for the soft sound of
running water.  He could hear his own heart thumping
loudly in his ears.  Thump . . .  Thump . . . Thump .
. .

He backed up to the concrete of the bridge.  There was
a strange needling feeling in his brain.  His world
inverted and ripped apart.

He grabbed the edge of the wall tightly.  His fingers
left indentations in the concrete surface.

"Ah hell, not again."

bUrnINg bReAD . . . A rEd rIGht hANd . . . 5232 . . . 
nEvEr tRusT tHe rEd oNly tHe bLuE . . .THerE wAs aN
oLd MAn oN tHe BRiDge . . . yOu Can oNly bE pUshEd sO
fAr BeForE yOu hAve noThing leFt . . .

Ryouga's released the wall slowly.  A large piece of
concrete fell from his hand and onto the rocky ground.
 He cradled his head in his hands as the sense of
vertigo slowly receded.

"I don't care," he muttered softy into his hands. 
"This isn't my problem.  I don't care."

His head raised and he tried to compose himself. 
Shifting his bag on his shoulders he turned and headed
away from the bridge.

"Let someone else help.  I've got my own problems. 
Besides, I'm not very nice guy.  In fact, I'm a jerk! 
Yeah!"

He turned and began to walk back to the bridge.

"No I don't care at all."  His voice sounded lame even
to his own ears.  He scowled at the ground.  Damn
conscious . . . where did he get one anyway?

He slowly made it to the top and indeed, there was an
old man standing on the edge of the bridge, looking
down to the depths  below.  What was left of his hair
was gray.  His cloths were disheveled as if they had
been slept in.  Tears streamed down his wrinkled face.

Ryouga stopped.  He waited for the man to notice him
for a few moments.  He shifted his weight from foot to
foot.  When it became evident that the man was
oblivious to the outside world, Ryouga decided to try
a different tactic.

"So um . . . what ja doing?"  He winced.  He's trying
to kill himself you moron!  What do you think he was
trying to do?  Knit himself a sweater?!

The man turned and gazed at Ryouga.  Their eyes met
for a breath moment.  Age clashed with youth as the
bandanna clad boy held the eye contact.  The old man's
brown orbs seemed depthless.

"Please, leave an old man to his final business.  I
have nothing left to live for."

Ryouga rubbed the back of his head nervously and
approached the man.

"Ah come on old man, you have lots to live for."  Just
a long as he didn't ask for suggestions he'd be ok.

"Like what?"

DAMN!

"Uh um..things and uh stuff um...lots of stuff!"  He
laughed nervously.  He tried a lame attempt at a
smile, only to succeed in a kind of half grimace.  He
was more likely to scare the man into jumping than
actually saving him.

The man raised a single gray eyebrow.  He looked
slightly amused.

"You're not very good at this are you?"

"I'm trying!  You um...uh...err...uh..DAMN IT!" 
Ryouga shook his head violently.  "I can't take all
this stress!"

The old man's eyes widened.  This kid didn't seem to
mentally stable.  Poor kid . . . to be so young and so
mentally insane.  Probably was on drugs too.  He did
look kind of wild.

Ryouga continued to clutch his head, in the middle of
a mini panic attack.

'I've got to think of something!  Think you idiot! 
Think!  He's an old guy, he's probably done a lot in
his life.  Not like you.  He's probably got a wife and
kids and a home.  Not like you.  You don't have a
home.  No girlfriend either and I don't want to have
any kids yet..but that's beside the point.  No purpose
in life . . . Unless this is my purpose in life . . .
then I'm totally screwed.  ARGH!  I'M SUCH A LOSER!. .
.   And I'm supposed to grief counsel someone?!'

"FINE!  I'M KILLING MYSELF TOO!"  He jumped up on the
ledge, landing next to the man, almost knocking the
old guy off in the process.  

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!  GET OFF OF HERE!"  The old
man's blood pressure rose five or six notches higher
than it should have been.  Not that it mattered, if
Ryouga accidentally knocked him off the bridge he
wouldn't have to worry about it anymore.  But it was
the principal of the thing!

"What?"  Ryouga looked back at him innocently.  His
fangs made it rather hard to pull off that expression
correctly.  "I don't see your name on this ledge."

"You better get off or I'll jump!"  The man leaned
forward for emphasis.

Ryouga shrugged and looked over the edge himself.  It
seemed miles down to the bottom.  If he didn't have
his curse he could probably survive the jump . . . But
hey, what are ya gonna do?

"Ah ok.  I'm going first though."  He bent his knees
and prepared to jump--

"NO YOU CAN'T!"  The old man waved his hands in front
of his face.  Ryouga stopped and slowly turned towards
him.

"Hmm?"

"Listen kid, you've got a lot to live for.  Don't do
this."  He old man stepped toward him and put a
reassuring hand on his shoulder.  Ryouga's eyes
clouded over with real pain.

"What DO I have to live for?"  He actually wanted to
hear this one . . .

"Your young, your alive.  There's many things you
still haven't done, still experienced.  You need to go
out there and embrace life!"  The man made a grand
gesture with his hands, indicating the wide world full
of possibilities.  Just more things that can screw you
over, in Ryouga's opinion, but he kept his thoughts to
himself.

Ryouga grinned again.

"Maybe you should take your own advice eh?"

The old man blinked rapidly.  He had just . . . how
did he . . .

"You planned this didn't you."

Ryouga blinked, copying the man's former expression.

"Yeah . . . I uh . . . planned it!  Heh."  He rubbed
the back of his neck nervously.  "How about we get off
this ledge ok?"

The man laughed and Ryouga took his hand.  He helped
the man off the ledge.  Youth and vigor seemed to
return to the man's limbs as Ryouga watched.

"Kid I have to thank you . . . I almost . . .  Never
mind, I believe I owe you a meal for talking me down
from suicide. . . Mr?"

Ryouga bowed.

"Hibiki."

The man put a hand across his shoulders in a friendly
gesture and began to lead him away.  They faced toward
the commercial district.

"Hibiki is it?  Can I ask you one question?"  He
looked at his younger companion with eyes of steel.

"Yes?"

"Are you on drugs?"

Ryouga fall face first onto the ground.

----

Lost Days Lamenting Lost Days
Part7

The spicy aroma of his soup wafted up through the air
toward Ryouga's senses.  He wasn't sure what kind it
was.  The taste reminded him of his potluck concoction
he'd often make on his travels.

He swirled the contents for a moment, watching the odd
colored vegetables fall from his spoon.

"Are you going to eat that or just pick at it? the old
man sitting across from him asked.  Ryouga glanced up
at his host.  The man looked back at him with sad
brown eyes.

He seemed like a nice enough guy.  In gratitude for
saving his life, he had offered Ryouga a free meal in
his restaurant.  It was a quaint little restaurant,
with yellow and white booths, fresh flowers, and
glistening counter tops.  The building was old but
well taken care of.  It had a home-like feel to it. 
Or at least Ryouga thought it did, he wasn't exactly
sure what home was supposed to feel like.

"So what's your name anyway?" Ryouga took another sip
of his soup.  It was a good place to start as any.  He
had never been good at the art of conversation.

"A blunt one now are we?"  The old man chuckled but
the laughter did not reach his eyes.  "The name's
Kenji Benkeru.  It's a pleasure to meet you."

The old man bowed slightly from his seat.  

Ryouga nodded his head in return.  "Heh, I used to
have an uncle named Kenj."  He frowned slightly as he
bit down on something hard and crunchy.  What the hell
was he eating anyway?

"Really?  Where is he now?"

"We think the Bermuda Triangle.  Mom told him not to
buy that boat but he wouldn't listen.  Kept raving
about something called a G.P.S. device.  He said it
would solve all his problems."  Ryouga's frowned
deepened.  "Heh, I guess it did."

Mr. Benkeru shook his head and laughed.  Such an odd
kid . . . still you don't find many people now a days
that would go out of their way to help a stranger.

"Would you like some bread Mr. Hibiki?"  He stood up
and walked behind the counter.

"Just Ryouga, and no thank you."

"Come on, it's Mr. Benkeru's famous bread!  It's this
store's bread and better so to speak."  Mr. Benkeru
stooped behind the counter and procured a loaf of
bread.

Ryouga started to choke on a vegetable.  He was in a
BREAD store of all places.  It was like his vision . .
. Hell everything had been about his hallucinations
lately.  It wouldn't have been so bad going crazy if
he'd been having visions of lottery numbers. 

"This . . . is a bread store?  None of the bread is
burning right?"

The old man looked over his shoulder.  "Um . . . no it
isn't.  Should it be?"

"Uh . .. "  Ryouga put a hand behind his head and
laughed nervously.  The old guy probably thought he
was on drugs again.  Why was he even here?  Free food?
 He wasn't Ranma, food wasn't the driving force in his
life.  So why?  He didn't even know this man.  You
live a long time; you get old and die.  It was the
consequences for living so long.  He couldn't help
this man.  He didn't WANT to help this man.

Mr. Benkeru walked around the counter again slowly,
using the side of the counter to balance himself. 
Carefully he sat himself down again across from
Ryouga.  His face twitched with pain, but was quickly
covered up.

Ryouga averted his eyes.  No, there was nothing else
he could do.  He already stuck his neck out for
someone, and personal experience told him, when you
stick your neck out for strangers you usually get it
chopped off.  The last time he helped someone he got
ran over by a SEMI of all things.  He probably should
have just let the old man die, he's going to go soon
anyways.

He felt a twinge of guilt.  No, he couldn't have done
that.

"Here just take a piece, it's free.  Bread's nothing
to fight over."  Mr. Benkeru sat a loaf of bread in
front of his guest.

Ryouga began to choke again.

"Are you ok kid?"  The old man's voice was laced with
concern. . . concern for a person he didn't even know
. . .

"Yeah . . "  Ryouga coughed and took a sip of his
water.  "I'm ok."

"No offense kid, but you look like you've been through
Hiroshima and back."  He leaned back and took a sip of
his coffee mug.  Ryouga, idly noted the words 'I love
you grandpa' on the front of the coffee mug.

"Oh, I always look like this."  He touched the slender
scar beneath his eyelid.  "Well, mostly like this."

A conversation lapsed into uncomfortable silence.  The
old man must have been too polite to ask him how he
got the scar, or he just didn't care.  Ryouga's eyes
trailed along the contents of the room.  He stopped on
a family photo sitting behind the counter.  The
picture had been taken several years before.  Mr.
Benkeru's face looked slightly younger.  An older
women sat beside him with aging gray hair and a smile
upon her face.  A oddly familiar young girl no older
than thirteen sat in front of them with long blond
hair.

Wait . . .  He squinted his eyes.  He had seen her
before.  It was that prost-- er girl from the other
day.  Younger perhaps, and less dark and dreary but it
still had to be her.  What was he supposed to do now?

"You should have let me die you know."  The old man
stirred his coffee quietly.  "It would have been
easier for everyone concerned."

Ryouga blinked in confusion.  First he thanked him for
saving him, now he WANTED to die?

"I could have at least died honorably, instead of
being reduced to a slobbering diaper wearing piece of
filth that can't even take care of himself."  The old
man's face twisted up into an expression of torment
than relaxed as if he knew the expression was useless.

"Excuse me Mr., not to sound rude or anything but what
the hell is going on?  First you thank me for saving
you, now you wished I hadn't?"  Ryouga was more than
out of his depth here, he was drowning in a sea of
depth.  

"Oh I forget sometimes."  He waved his hand
dismissively in the air.  "I'll forget about for a few
hours, or days and then It'll all come rushing back
like a forgotten nightmare."

Ryouga was saved from having to reply by a brick that
came crashing through the window.  He casually caught
it before it hit his face.  Looking through the
shattered window, he could see six hooded forms armed
with baseball bats and clubs in one hand and torches
in the other.  Another brick landed on the table,
barely missing Ryouga's now cold soup by inches.

"I'm not paying you bastards a damn cent!"  Mr.
Benkeru stood slowly and waved his fist defiantly in
the air.  The hooded figures sneered at the old man's
protest.  Seemly ignored, Ryouga quietly made his way
to a side door.

One of the hooded figures stepped forward.  The
torchlight eerily highlighted the shadows of his
cloak, creating an almost demonic visage.  "The Red
Right Hand demands payment."  The hooded figure's
voice lowered.  "The master's wishes shall be
fulfilled."

Mr. Benkeru reached for a knife on the counter top.

"What are you going to do with that old man?  Butter
me to death?"

Mr. Benkeru ran at the hooded figure.  The hooded man
sidestepped his lunge and picked the old man up by the
collar.  Without hesitation, he slammed him into the
concrete.  A blinding flash of pain overwhelmed his
senses the old man's senses as he crumbled to the
ground.  With a desperate struggle, he lifted his
head.  The hooded figure stood over him, patting his
baseball bat in his hand.

"You will be an example.  No one shall oppose the Red
Right Hand.  No one--erk."  Erk?  Mr. Benkeru's eyes
widened in surprise as the hooded figures body
crumbled to the ground a few feet from him.

"I probably should have something witty to say right
now."  Ryouga shrugged behind the fallen figures body.
 "Oh well screw it."  

He ducked as another cult member swung at him.  He
caught the wrist of the next on mid-swing and disarmed
him.  A quick thrust with the stolen weapon to the
guy's stomach downed him.

The other's regrouped, forming a circle around him. 
Ryouga noticed mild skill in a few as they switched
their stances.  Not really feeling like a drawn out
battle, Ryouga jumped into the fray, knocking out two
before he hit the ground.  He felt his ribs twinge
slightly as he hit the ground but ignored it.  A
figure to his right pulled out a pair of nun-chucks. 
Grinning maliciously he whipped him out and flashed a
few flips and strikes.  Ryouga would have laughed if
it hadn't been a very Ranma thing to do.  Idly, he
pulled off a bandanna and aimed it at the man's
nun-chucks.  It caught up in the chains and sent the
nun chucks into their owners face, effectively
knocking him out.

Ryouga looked over his shoulder and saw the last one
retreating into the darkness of the night.   

"Uh, hey old man are you dead?"  He stooped over the
old man's prone body.

"Ugh, I'm not young anymore.  I need alcohol."  Mr.
Benkeru groaned and struggled to stand up.  Ryouga put
one of the man's hands over his shoulder and helped
him up.  

"I can take care of myself."  The old man shrugged the
hand off angrily.  He paused for a moment and laughed
at his own absurdity.  "Ah hell, thanks kid  . . for
what it's worth.  That should keep them away for at
least a week or  two . . ."

"Um . . . I've got to go."  Ryouga picked up his pack
that he had brought out with him from the side of the
curb.  "I've got places I need to be."  Places? 
Bullshi--  "Ya going to be ok?"

Mr. Benkeru walked to his door and leaned on the door
frame.  "No.  No, I won't.  But I don't have any of
choice do I?"  He turned and paused, looking over his
shoulder.  "Take some advise from me kid, don't waste
your youth.  And most importantly don't be too much of
an asshole to apologize to the people you care about. 
You might never get a second chance."  He closed the
door and turned off the lights, leaving Ryouga
standing alone on the dark street.

Stepping over the fallen bodies, he walked over to a
phone booth and called the police.  He'd have the
number memorized at this rate.  Assured that the
police would be there soon--not that it mattered,
those guys weren't getting up anytime soon, he turned
toward his destination.

The sun had began to rise, sending cascades of orange
and pink across the horizon.  A new day was dawning. .
. Come to think of it when was the last time he'd
gotten any sleep?  Oh well, plenty of time to sleep
when your dead.

"Let no man say Ryouga Hibiki was an asshole."  He
began to head back to Ucchan's.

----


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