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The Misfortunes of Pride
by George Masologites, aka Hunter Kid/Drake
story c 8/30/1998

People always say, "I'm going to kill you."  It's just a figure of speech,
of course, and no one takes it seriously - all it really means is that your
opponent wants to hurt you.  But he wouldn't kill you, not usually.  That's
not going to be how _you_ die.  Of course not.  Killing is something that
happens to...those _other_ people.  Unfortunate people.  You feel sorry for
them, sure, but murder is something that you read about in the paper, that
you watch in movies.  Something involving lots of media runaround and
federal action and car chases and explosions and...well, the whole works.
But it's not something that'd happen to you.  No, when people say, "I'm
going to _kill_ you" in real life, it's just a figure of speech.

Right?

Or do the unfortunates who get murdered harbor this same belief?

--

    He said:  "Akane is my fiance," and a fierce glint entered his
blue-gray eyes.  And when he growled, "Lay a lip on her, and I'll _kill
you_," the glint changed into a burning fury of the soul.
    Of course, his opponent didn't take him seriously...

    "Where are we?"     
    The man looked around them at the heavily wooded forestland, then back
at the woman.  "Don't know."
    The woman sighed.  "Usually that way, isn't it?"
    "Yeah, usually," he agreed.  He was about thirty, had a thick black
beard, and it looked as if it had been some time since he'd bathed.  She
looked slightly better, but neither looked particularly well-to-do.
    Silence.
    She broke it, at length.  "I was thinking earlier, you know."    
    "Oh?"
    "To be honest, I've actually been thinking for a long time..."
    He sat down on a rock and rubbed his eyes in a tired fashion.  "You
want to go back."  It wasn't a question.  It probably should have been, but
it wasn't.
    She treated it as one.  "We should consider it."
    "Your call."  He shrugged.  "But I think you'd be making a mistake."
    "But-"
    "Please, don't argue.  We should be setting up camp, not arguing.  I
don't have the energy to argue.  I said it's your call, but I think it's a
bad idea."
    She argued anyway.

    She grinned, but there was an invisible menace behind that grin.  The
woman facing her was either too angry or too imperceptive to catch it.
"Then if I defeat you, you've got no problem, right?"
    The response came in another language, one which the first girl didn't
understand.  But it was clear that she agreed.
    The first girl's kick was only aimed to render unconscious, and it
wasn't until she had come to herself once again that she realized her
opponent was no longer breathing...

    "You don't look too good."
    She shrugged.  "Don't worry.  I don't feel too good either."
    "Well, you don't look it."
    "I know."
    After a moment, he decided to break the ice.  "So you want to go back."
    "Yeah."
    He licked his lips.  "Why?"
    She shrugged again.  "Don't know.  Guess I figure that we've done our
penance, you know?"
    "I still think it's a mistake."
    "Yeah.  You told me."
    He grunted.  "You know I'm right."
    "Nothing new.  Seems of late that you're always right.  Still, I'd like
to go back."
    "So do I, but you got to put it out of your mind."
    "I can't."
    "Force yourself to.  It'll drive you crazy if you don't."

    "It...it's _you_!"  She croaked, flabbergasted.
    He hung his head, ashamed.  "Y-yeah...it's me," he responded
regretfully.  "Look, I'm...sorry..."
    "You bastard."
    He said nothing, shedding only a few tears of disgrace.
    "You bastard!"
    Silence.
    "You _bastard_!"
    Still silence.
    She hated being ignored.  "I should _kill_ you," she hissed.
    Of course, he didn't really think she'd do it...

    He was looking at the flames' shadows dancing in the nighttime forest's
trees, when she said: "I still can't put it out of my mind."
    "Try harder," he responded.
    She sighed.  "Let's go back.  For real."
    He looked at her, the reflection of the fire dancing across his dark
eyes.  "You've never been this insistent before.  Why the sudden change?"
    "It's been almost fifteen years.  Isn't that long enough?"
    "Better fifteen years than life, and that's what we'd get if we went
back."
    She stared bleakly into the crackling flames.  "But it's not _fair_..."
    "More fair for us than them," he responded bitterly.

    "Coward, bring back my osage no onna or you'll pay!"  He flailed around
and snatched up his wooden sword.
    "I am _so_ tired of you," the other young man retorted, ired.  "Think
I'll just kill you and get it over with, what do you say?"
     "Do your worst, cur."
     They faced off.
     Of course, he never thought that his opponent was serious with his
threat...

     "You regret it, then?"
    He sighed.  "Of course I regret it.  Maybe not for them, but at least
for us."
    "But at least we're not dead..."
    He shook his head.  "They deserved death."
    She nodded solemnly.  "Yeah.  Yeah, well, we both thought so at the
time..."  She looked at him with her piercing stare.  "You...still think
so?  You think what we did was right?"
    "Morals aren't set in stone..." he said, lying back to stare at the
overcast night sky.  "I think we did what we had to to win the battle,
and...get together.  Is that so wrong?"
    "Modern society thinks so."
    There was a long pause.
    He let out a breath, and changed the subject.  "No stars tonight, it
seems."
    She glanced listlessly at the dark cloudbank overhead.  "Guess not."
    "Shame.  Means I won't get to make a wish tonight..."
    Her look was a half-interested one.  "Oh?  What would you have wished
for?"
    He gave her a sardonic grin.  "To never have met you, of course."  In
spite of his grin, it was clear that he was entirely serious.
    "Of course," she responded sadly, and it was clear she was just as
serious.  "And mine would have been to have never met you."

    "We're going to mail him off to the North Pole, so the little bugger
can find someone _else's_ house to destroy!"  The man said viciously.
    Without a word, the young man snatched the box and ran off.
    Later that day, city authorities found a dead and mangled body lying in
a vacant lot; seemed to be a dwarf of some sorts.  There was a knife
sticking brutally through it's skull...

    The man glanced over at the woman.  "If we had the chance to do it
again...what would you have done?"
    She shrugged.  "Don't know.  I don't really think about that, so
much...that would be torture."  She looked at him.  "What would _you_ have
done, since you've given it some thought?"
    He didn't respond right away, and they both sat on the blanket of pine
needles and fallen leaves that covered the forest floor; it was late in
autumn.  She breathed outward, and realized that she could see her breath
quite clearly, even in the flickering firelight.
    "I think I would have done the same thing," he responded quietly, at
length.  "I don't think we could have helped ourselves, either of us.  Do
you?"
    "Probably not."
    There was another silence, and one that she found comforting, and she
leaned back against an ancient oak and relaxed her tired muscles, from the
long day's walk.  Seemed like it was always a long day's walk., of late...
    He broke the silence suddenly, and his voice came out much sharper than
he must have intended for it to. "How about the other thing?"
    "You mean...?"
    "...yeah."
    She licked her lips.  "Rather not talk about that.  Not just now."

    She felt a hand tap her on the shoulder.
    "Yes?"  She asked, in her usual arrogant, condescending tones.  "What
is your business?"
    The response came in a soft, female growl.  "You paralyzed me, you bitch."
    She whirled around, her face full of fury.  "How dare you refer to me
in such a tone, you little pigtailed hussy!  Prepare to face the wrath of
the Black Rose!"
    "You tried to rape me," she snarled.  "Bitch."
    "I did nothing of the kind!"  The arrogant girl exclaimed, whipping at
the pigtailed one with a long, black ribbon.  "How dare you..."
    The other girl smiled.  "How dare I?  Easily, actually."
    With that, she jerked the ribbon out of the other girl's hand, snaked
it towards it's original owner, and calmly snapped her thin neck with it.

    "We really should talk about it."
    "You mean...it?"
    "Yeah, it.  The springs."
    "I don't regret it."
    There was a pause, then he agreed with her.  "I suppose, then, neither
do I."

    "Well, Ranma, here we are."
    Ranma looked around the mist-covered valley with a certain amount of
apprehension.  "Yeah."  He chuckled nervously.  "Is that supposed to make
me feel better, Akane?"
    Akane smiled at him, the same smile that had always made his heart
race.  "Mmm...maybe.  But we have to go through with this, Ranma; you know
we do.  We've done too much...if we're caught..."
    "I know."
    "I know you know."
    "Good."
    She looked towards the springs, barely visible from this end of the
cool, misty valley.  The bamboo, though, one could see if one concentrated.
    He nodded.  "Then let's do it."
    
    "Ranma."
    "What is it, Akane?"
    "Let's try and get some sleep, alright?  We've got a long day ahead of
us, tomorrow."
    Ranma nodded tiredly from where she was leaning against the old oak.
"Sure thing, Akane, sure thing..."
    And Akane's rare smile, she realized as she slipped off into sleep,
hadn't changed at all from how it was before the springs, so long ago...

END

Author's note:

This is probably my last fanfic.  Hope you enjoyed it.  If you've got any
comments for me on the story, feel free to email me at
guilds@mail.serve.com; I'd like to hear what readers think.

^_^

--
Drake
http://www.serve.com/guilds/ranma/
guilds@mail.serve.com