Gah. I hate these stupid "talks" before stories. Feh.
******
The language in this is...not appropriate for most. What I�m going for,
here, is realism in the dialogue of the characters, so I�m having my
characters talk the way I remember most people at my public high school
talking. I�m interjecting crude insults and seemingly inappropriate
phrases, but it all goes to fit what I think of as a regular high school�s
routine dialogue. If it offends you, well, don�t read it, I guess. I�m
sorry if you�re that closed-minded to not read a story because of some
groupings of letters you term as "vulgar" or "indecent," but, hey, whatever
floats your boat, you know? It�s not my place to judge.
******
All the names, characters, and basic crap belong to someone besides me.
Just FYI, and all.
/////////////////////////////////
My day has sucked so far. I missed a point on a math exam, I lost
my reading glasses, I didn�t get to eat lunch because of some dumb ass
presentation in psychology that ran long, and I�m five minutes late for
hockey practice. Shit, I hate this.
I grab my stick and hobble out of the locker room as fast as I can.
These fucking goalie pads suck donkey balls in terms of movement capacity.
As I glide out on the ice the coach looks over from the passing
drill he�s running and scowls. "Saotome! Late! Ten laps around the ice!"
Fucking cock. I drop my stick and gloves, pop off my helmet, and
I�m off even before my equipment hits the ice.
I�m Ranma Saotome. Weird name for Edina, Minnesota - rich
Scandinavian land - I know, but that�s just the way things panned out, I
guess. My pop is Japanese; he came over here to America just before I was
born, so I�ve always been a U.S. citizen, though my dad wasn�t for a while.
My mom died giving birth to me, so I never knew her. Sucks, but shit
happens, you know? Ya just gotta deal with it.
Anyway, I go to Edina High School (big surprise), and I�m on the
hockey team (another shocker). I�m their star goalie; I�ve never let a puck
past me in my time in the net. Well, not in a real game, anyway. I�ve
already been offered full-ride scholarships at, like, every college with a
hockey team, and I�m only in tenth grade! I�m not trying to brag, really;
I�m just stating a fact. Besides, I don�t give a rat�s ass about any of
those stupid-ass sports schools, anyway. I�m trying to get into a good
liberal arts school, preferably close to home - Macalaster would be a dream
come true.
No one cares about that shit, though. Sorry.
Anyway, my dad works in some kind of appraisal firm, or some shit
like that. I don�t really know what he does, exactly, but he makes enough
money for me and my younger sister, Rei - Rei was born from a woman he
married when I was one. He needed someone in his life to help get over the
death of Mom, I guess, so he married quickly and had Rei when I was two.
They later divorced, which was probably good, since the lady died in a car
accident not three months after the divorce was finalized. If his wife had
died again, I don�t know what Pop would have done. Anyway, my sister, Rei,
is in the eighth grade, obviously, and she�s not the most emotionally stable
person you�d ever meet. Oh, she has her share of friends, but she�s really
shy, has low self-esteem, and she doesn�t really get approached by any
members of the opposite sex. Not that she�s not beautiful, because she is;
if I can say this about my sister, I think she�s one of the most beautiful
women I�ve ever seen. It�s just that her personality around strangers turns
off most of the guys in her grade.
Fuck, I�m rambling on about shit y�all don�t care about, again.
Sorry, man.
I�m not a typical jock, though I do play a lot of sports. I�m
really trying to get into a good liberal arts school, like I said, so that
sets me apart from the general "Football...beer...sex...repeat" stereotype
of high school jocks straight off. Further distancing myself from the
brainless drone model is the fact that my school record is impeccable. I�ve
never gotten a detention, never missed a day of school that wasn�t because
of a contagious virus, and I haven�t ever been so much as chastised for
disruptive behavior in class. My cumulative GPA is 4.0 on a 4.0 scale.
My police record is nonexistent, though that�s not to say that I
haven�t done anything illegal. I�m just smart enough not to get caught.
Have you ever actually stopped to think about the fact that
basically EVERYTHING in a construction site is unguarded? It�s amazing how
simple it is to, say, cut the wire fences surrounding a construction site
and steal shit? I think I�ve got enough shit to make a building myself!
Well, except for the heavy machinery, at least.
So that�s about it, really. I�m trying my ass off in school because
I want to get into a good college, I�m playing sports because I enjoy them,
my friends are�unique�and I�m basically your average high school student.
Fun, huh?
I skid to a stop on the ice next to my gear, finished with my laps,
and put it back on. I look over to the coach. "Yo! Coach! Done!"
He looks back and smiles ruefully, shaking his head as he looks at
his watch. Oh, like he�s really surprised I made ten laps around the ice in
less than two minutes. It�s not like I�ve never done it before. "Okay,
Saotome! Get in the net! I�ll have the third line warm you up."
I smirk as I glide over to the net and get my bearings. �Warm me
up,� he says. Right. Like I need warming up. I crouch and bring my leg
pads together as the third line drops out of the passing drill and
approaches me, their pucks gliding smoothly along with their sticks. "Bring
it on," I say, my smile hidden by my mask.
Predictable, really. I notice Jimmy winding up and sigh. He�s
always trying for the slap shot, high and right. I catch it in my glove
absently, waiting for Jeff to take his shot - low and to the right. Not
even a challenge.
I lazily stop all the pucks streaking toward the goal, thinking
about tonight. Shit; I have a shit load of homework to do.
Fuckin�...calculus, honors biology, psychology - GOD that presentation was
boring! I�m surprised I stayed awake! - English, and basically everything
else, too. Damn it.
That went quickly. I snap back to reality as I realize that
everyone�s skating over to the coach. I follow suit, not wanting more laps
around the ice. Laps aren�t hard, but they�re a nuisance at least.
"Okay, we�re gonna scrimmage today. We�ve got a big game against
Eden Prairie this weekend, so we�ve got to be ready! First line, third
line, you�re playing each other. Second line, split yourselves in two and
wait in the box; you�re replacements. Ranma, you�re with third line." I
smile. I�m always with the worst line when we scrimmage. "Bryan," the
coach continues, "you�re with first line. All right? Let�s go!"
�Well,� I think to myself as I position myself in the goal again,
�at least I�ve got a girlfriend.� I smile as I think of my girlfriend,
Helen, barely noticing the face-off happening almost directly in front of
me.
++++++
I drop my stuff in the trunk of my car. God, I�m glad I�m old for my grade.
I�m 16, so I�m old enough to have my driver�s license, which I am and always
will be eternally grateful for. I don�t have time for a job, which is
unfortunate, but my pop is rich enough to pay for my insurance and gas. My
car is an old Volkswagen Jetta that I found for an AMAZING price somewhere
up by Orno. My dad helped me buy that, too. I�m a little bitter about
being so dependent on my pop, but it�s no big deal, really. In a couple of
years, I�m gonna be going to college, and that�s good enough for me.
I jump in the driver�s seat and start the engine. The radio is
already on - I always listen to music - and I hear that my favorite radio
station, 93X, is right in the middle of one of my favorite songs: "Aenima"
by Tool. "Shit yeah," I say as I back out of the parking space and shift
into first.
It�s night already, since it�s the middle of December, but the time
is only 6:30 PM. "Tomorrow�s the last day of school before Christmas
vacation," I reassure myself quietly as I pull out onto Valley View Road. A
smile touches my face as I turn onto Tracy Ave. and continue on toward my
home.
"Every fucking time," the radio blasts, "every fucking day. Learn
to swim, see you down in Arizona Bay." Fucking, I love this band, man.
Good shit.
After a nice, short drive, I pull into my driveway and turn off the car.
Stepping outside, I smirk as the cold assaults my body, penetrating under
the jeans and sweatshirt I�m wearing. I love winter; I was raised in
Minnesota, so I�ve always loved winter. You have to if you live in
Minnesota. I mean, there are only two seasons - winter and road
construction. I quickly open my trunk and grab my backpack before closing
it and heading up to my house.
It�s a nice house, my family�s and mine. It�s not the biggest thing
in the world, but �tis no small house by any means. Two levels beside the
ground floor and a basement, not to mention an attic with more than enough
space to store everything we need to store. The house is a cream color, and
the shutters are a nice shade of green. I don�t know anything about colors
or matching or fashion or anything, but I like the way my home looks.
I step into the house via the garage entrance and yell, "I�m home!"
Shucking off my shoes, I make sure not to get any slush or snow on the tile
floor. Dad hates it when I do that.
I can hear the television on downstairs, but I don�t have time to
see who it is, let alone go downstairs and watch with them. I bound up the
stairs two at a time, right into the kitchen. Tossing my bag onto the
counter, I open the freezer and root around, trying to find a frozen pizza.
"Ranma!" I hear my sister yell.
"What�s up?" comes my reply. Yes! The pizza comes out of the
freezer and the door closes. Pizza is good.
My little sister walks into the room, her short, brown hair hanging
around her face like an oval picture frame. I swear, whoever marries her is
gonna be a lucky, lucky man. "Could you help me with my math? I really
don�t get something."
Popping the pizza into the oven, I smile, a small, affectionate
smile. "Sure, Rei. What don�t you get?" I grab the timer and set it
before following my sister up to her room.
Her room is pretty plain: a bed, a dresser, a computer, and a
television and VCR sitting on the desk in the corner. Other than the
closet, there�s nothing else in the room. To each his own, I guess. "We�re
doing triangle proofs, and I just don�t get how to do this stuff. I mean, I
understand the Pythagorean theorem, and all, but the rest of it just
confuses me." She sits down and looks at her book confusedly.
I chuckle and begin to explain.
After a number of minutes, the timer goes off and I smile
sheepishly. "Sorry, Rei, but that�s my dinner. Do you get this stuff now?"
"Not really, but you�ve helped a little. I guess I�ll just head
into school early tomorrow to ask for some help." My sister smiles sweetly
and bats her eyelashes at me. "Could you drive me to school when you go?"
I sigh and shake my head. The middle school and high school are
connected, but the high school starts about forty minutes earlier. "Rei,
you don�t even have to ask. Just be ready, okay? I can�t afford to wait."
I jack a hand over my shoulder in an informal parting gesture and I head
back downstairs to wolf down my pizza and clean up.
Okay. It�s time for homework. I crack out my calculus book and am
about to start when I hear my father�s voice behind me.
"I need to talk to you, Ranma," my pop says in Japanese. When he
raised my sister and I, he insisted that we know both English and Japanese,
for some reason, but I�m not complaining. It�ll just make me stand out that
much more when I�m applying to college, right?
"Yes, father?" I reply, using the most formal form of Japanese I
know.
His smile is affectionate as he sits down next to me. "Son, I need
to talk to you about�the future." His face drops a bit as he says this, but
he smiles again and continues before I can ask what is wrong. "Son, if
something ever happens to me, you need to know that there�s someone I have
asked to take care of you."
This is definitely a strange conversation. Pop never talks about
this kind of stuff. "Pop, nothing�s gonna happen to you, and you know it."
"Just listen, son," he says softly but forcefully. "If something
happens to me, I have arranged for you to go and live with one of my friends
in Japan. I know you love it here in America, Ranma, but there�s no one
else to take care of you, and you can�t legally take care of yourself."
I frown. I don�t want to leave America, true, but nothing is gonna
happen to pop. "It�s okay with me, Pop. I mean, I don�t really have a say
in it anyway; besides, nothing�s gonna happen to you."
My father smiles and his eyes glisten with unshed tears. "Ranma,
let�s both hope that is so." He reaches over and hugs me, and I awkwardly
return the embrace. Man, my dad�s acting weird. "Well," he says after a
couple of minutes, "I�ll let you get back to your homework." He quietly
leaves the room and heads upstairs, probably to bed.
"What was that about?" I whisper to myself, switching back to
English. I shrug it off and hunker down about my books. "Whatever. I�ve
got homework to do."
++++++
"Rei!" I shout. "Let�s go! I told you, I can�t be late!" She
always does this type of thing. I smile a bit, realizing that it�s just
another thing about my sister I find endearing.
She rounds the bend at the top of the stairs and practically leaps
down all of them. "Gomen nasai gozaimasu," she apologizes politely in
Japanese, bowing at the waist.
I snort playfully and grab a strap on her backpack, dragging her
outside with me. "No problem," I say, following her lead and speaking in
Japanese, "but we do have to move fairly quickly." When we reach the car, I
quickly open up the back door and throw my backpack in, my sister following
suit on the passenger side of the car. After a few moments, we are both
buckled in and on our way to school. "Aenima" is playing again, and I
chuckle. They must really like playing this song, or something. Not that I
mind, of course. I turn up the volume a bit and smile as Rei positively
glares at me. "What?" I shout over the music. "You don�t like music played
at the proper volume?"
"As long as it�s music, no," she says calmly after she turns the
radio off. "You know, you should really start listening to real music,
Ranma. That stuff will rot your brain."
I roll my eyes as we take a right turn. "Okay, whatever. Like your
stupid-ass boy band shit is any better. At least these people write their
own music." I mentally add a point to my own scorecard as Rei again shoots
hate beams at me. "Just kidding. I don�t mind your music all that much,
honestly. But you have to realize that I like everything, which includes
some stuff you really don�t like."
"I realize that, but that doesn�t mean that I have to like it." She
smirks as I concede the point to her. "But some of the stuff you listen to
isn�t all that bad, either, you know." I add yet another point to my mental
scorecard. I�m still up two to one, and that fact makes me smile.
As we turn onto Valley View Road, we see a mass of cars and busses
waiting at the intersection up by the schools. "Y�see," I say as I point at
the collection of metal and carbon dioxide, "this is why we have to leave
early." God, I�m up three to one, now. Go me! Before she can say the same
thing she does every time this happens - "Oh, shut the fuck up, Ranma; you
know damn well I know that, too!" - I remember about what Pop had been
talking with me, and I explain the conversation to Rei.
"Hmmm," she says as she stares out the window at the snow on the
ground. It really is a beautiful day. "I wonder what�s up with him?"
Looking back to me, she adds, "What do you think about leaving America,
Ranma? I mean, not that anything�s gonna happen to dad; he�s just a
financial analyst. But supposing something DID happen, how would you feel
about it?"
I consider that question for a moment before responding. "I
wouldn�t like it, true, but it wouldn�t be the end of the world. I mean, we
know Japanese, right? So we wouldn�t have to worry about a language
barrier. Dad�s been drilling traditional Japanese customs into our heads
since we were born, too, so we won�t have to worry about cultural
differences, either."
"But what about your friends?" asks Rei, frowning. "Wouldn�t you
hate to leave them behind? And what about Helen?"
I grimace. "I�d hate leaving both my friends and Helen behind, but
if it had to be done, I�d do it. We can�t live on our own, no matter what
we want, because the law bends for no man, and Pop doesn�t really have any
friends, so the only option is to go stay with his friend in Japan." I
glance over to my sister and smirk. "Nothing�s gonna happen, though,
right?" She nods. "Right. So all you and I have to do is worry about the
rest of today, and then it�s Christmas vacation!" I smile and let out a
yell of triumph.
Rei smiles and leans over to give me a hug. "Just so you know, I
love you."
I�m confused, but I hug her back anyway. "I love you, too, Rei.
What brought this on?"
"What? Can�t a girl love her brother?" she says with an innocent
expression on her face.
I chuckle and step on the gas as we finally get through the sea of
cars and onto school grounds. I pull into my parking spot, making sure that
my parking permit is easily visible, and hop out of the car. "See you
later, Rei!" I call as she grabs her stuff and walks toward her section of
the building. I reach into the back seat and grab my backpack, then lock my
car up and head towards school. I see my friend, Dan, walking up from his
own car, and I yell "Hey!" to him. He waves back and I jog to reach him.
"Yo. What�s up?"
Dan is tall; he is 6' 5" at the very least. He�s bulky, too. The
man is a beast. I can hardly believe that he�s a pacifist and that he
doesn�t really like sports all that much. Talk about a waste of good
potential. "How�s it going?" he says in greeting.
"Just fine and dandy," I reply with a nod to another friend of mine.
I open a door to the school and am immediately assaulted by warm air and the
dull roar of voices in the background. "What�ve you got to do today?"
Dan snorts and follows me into the building. "Nothing. Absolutely
nothing."
That surprises me. "Nothing?"
"Nothing," he responds again. "All my classes are just watching
movies today."
I scowl. "Man, you suck. I�ve got a bunch of in-class assignments
to do today."
He chuckles as we reach our lockers, which are incidentally right
next to each other. "Maybe you shouldn�t have signed up for so many hard
classes, then."
"Yeah, you say that now, but when I�m making millions of dollars and
have my PhD., don�t come whining to me about your poverty, okay?"
Dan just rolls his eyes and slams his locker. "Right. Whatever."
I chuckle and close my own locker, hefting the books I�ll need for
my first few classes. "You know Frank is gonna score us some nitric acid?"
I ask as we wind our way to the lunchroom, where our little group of friends
meets every morning.
"So what?"
"Well," I say, scanning to make sure that no teachers are near
enough to hear, "since sulfuric acid is pretty easy to come by, that means
we�ll be able to nitrate stuff."
"�So, what does that mean?" he asks as he hops onto a lunch table
next to Frank.
"Well, with a mixture of the two acids, we can nitrate certain
things, like I said. That means that they�ll be extremely�flammable would
be a good word. But that�s not why I�m excited about it. What I�m excited
about is the fact that we�ll be able to make nitroglycerin." I smirk as Dan
rolls his eyes.
"You�re looking to blow your fucking arm off, you know." He turns
to Frank. "You�re not actually gonna do this shit, are you?"
"Hell yeah!" he smiles. "This is gonna be the fucking shit! All we
need now is drugs and womens, and we�ll be set!" Frank turns to me. "I�ll
be over tomorrow with the shit, okay?"
I nod. I open my mouth to say something, but the warning bell
rings, cutting me off. Fucking bell. "See ya later," I say instead,
turning away and heading toward my first period class.
++++++
Free! I�m done for two whole weeks! Mega score. I say bye to
Aaron and head back to my car. I�m fucking out of here!
I start the engine and turn the radio on. "Rooster," I say with a
satisfied smile. "Alice in Chains is always good."
When I pull into my driveway, "The Memory Remains," by Metallica, is
playing. I hop out of the car and grab my backpack. "FREE!" I shout to the
heavens. Hell yeah. I�m gonna be able to goof off for two whole weeks.
Mega super score.
I whip out my house key and unlock the door. I�m SO home. I close
the door and take off my shoes. "Well, what should I do now? I could
always play some video games. Nah, not now. I know!" I head upstairs to
my own room and flop down on the bed. "Sleep!" Sleep is good. As I roll
over, though, I notice something on my pillow. "What the�?" I sit up and
look at my pillow. A letter is resting on it with my name on the envelope.
Strange. I pick it up and extract the piece of paper inside. What could
this be? I open the piece of paper. Hmm. It�s in Japanese. It must be
from my dad. My eyes begin to widen as I read it.
Ranma,
By now, I�m probably dead. I�m sorry. I know this wasn�t
expected, but it had to be. I�ve been involved with the yakuza - the
Japanese mafia, if you didn�t know - for
many years. When I came here to Minnesota, it was on an assignment for the
Yakuza. I was told to come here and handle overseas accounts, as well as to
make sure that they
didn�t have any trouble with local gangs and whatnot. I did my job, and I
did it well. After a couple of years, I became aware of a gang known as the
Latin Kings. They were
severely hampering the business of my associates, so they asked me to deal
with them. I personally coordinated several raids on Latin King hideouts
and safe houses, and in
doing so virtually destroyed Latin King business in the city of Minneapolis.
They learned of my name just recently, and they contacted me, saying that if
I wanted you and Rei
to be safe, I had to give myself up. They said that they had my house
watched 24 hours a day, and gave me pictures of you and your sister to prove
it. I wasn�t allowed to
even try to contact my business associates, lest they hurt you and your
sister. I had to go, Ranma. I had to. I could never hurt either of you
two. If I wanted you and your
sister to be safe, I had to go. It truly was the only way.
You and your sister will have to go to Japan to live with my
old friend, Soun Tendo. I spoke with him before, and he knows you�re
coming, but thinks I am
accompanying you. I wrote a letter for Soun, as well, explaining some
things to him. You will find it in the cupboard above the dishwasher along
with the plane tickets for you
and Rei.
Please don�t mention anything in this letter to him, save
that I am dead. You should burn this letter after you read it, too.
The plane tickets are for a flight tonight at midnight. You
need to be on that plane, son. Tell no one where you�re going or even when;
I have no illusion as to whether
or not these thugs would kidnap or kill you despite my sacrifice. All I
have done is bought you time, and I can only hope that you will be able to
make it to safety. Please do
not throw my sacrifice away, son. Take your sister and run. Run to Japan,
and never look back. I�m sorry; I know you wanted to go to college in the
States, but please do not
ever return. No amount of luck or skill can save you from an organization
such as the Latin Kings, not even the help of my business associates. What
happened to me is proof
of that.
Ranma, I know this is not something you wanted to happen,
and believe me, it is not something I wanted to happen, either. I love you,
Ranma. Tell Rei that I love her,
too, and that I�m sorry. Tell her I�m sorrier than she�ll ever
know.
I know you�ll do well, Ranma. I know you�ll honor your
family name.
Your loving father,
Genma Saotome
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. I�m crying? Yeah, I�m
crying. Damn it, Pop...
I crumple the piece of paper in my hands and hurl it across the
room. I can�t believe he would do this to me! I can�t believe he would!
He was a financial analyst, not some yakuza businessman!
I sit on my bed and put my head in my hands, tears leaking between
my fingers. Fuck you, Pop. Fuck you.
I hear the door downstairs slam and Rei�s voice. "I�m home!" she
yells. I quickly wipe my eyes and try to compose myself. Wait. What time
is it? I look at the clock. It�s already been a half an hour? Shit.
Walking across the room, I bend down to pick up the last thing my father
will ever write to me. "Don�t worry, Pop," I say as I flatten out the
letter. "I won�t let you down."
//////////////////////////////////
Tell me what you think, y�all. That�s all I ever ask, really.
A Depraved Sociopath with Psychotic Tendencies
Humanity: A Haiku
Tiny floating leaf
Calmly drifting on water
Under mushroom clouds
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