Posting to the FFML during my lunch break... yeesh. :) Am I
addicted, or what?
Well, I'm not quite sure what to say about this one. Jed Bidwell
and I were having a discussion a few days back over ICQ, got onto the
subject of music and Ranma, and after we were done, this was
percolating in my mind.
Gee, thanks, Jed. :)
Still, I have him to thank for kicking me back into gear. While
this is most definitely a one-shot, it's inspired a bit of an idea
(which'll probably never see light, as it's very vague, but that's
ok), and it's helped to revive my interest in writing, instead of just
reading and C&C'ing. :)
Apologies to Guns 'n' Roses, and the Ranma people. :) The song is
_Sweet Child o' Mine_.
BTW - I wrote this while listening to the song on infinite repeat,
and tried to match the pacing of the fic to the pacing of the song.
Did it work? :)
Brian Payne
sofaspud@sofaspud.org
http://www.sofaspud.org
-----------------------------------
The auditorium shook as the crowd roared enthusiastically. Down
behind the stage, under layers of concrete and steel, the sound was
muted, but still loud. Ryoga shook his head in amusement - he
would've thought the crowds would be tired of them by now.
A knock at the door caused him to look up.
"Five minutes, Mr. Hibiki."
"Right," Ryoga acknowledged. Sighing, he tucked his favorite pick
into his ever-present bandanna, then shrugged on the leather jacket
that had become his trademark. It would be hot on stage, under the
lights, but he was used to it by now. Besides, it wouldn't stay on
him long - it never did. Briefly, he wondered who had thought up the
idea of changing between acts.
Time to go, he thought as he exited the room and started the short
walk to the stage.
Ranma was waiting for him in the wings. Even dressed in tight
leather pants and a red tank-top, Ranma's ever-present smirk drew the
most attention.
"Ready, Ryoga?"
Ryoga snorted. "Of course. When have I not been?"
"Right, right. You're always ready." Ranma grinned. Safely
hidden in the shadows, he glanced out at the crowd as he pulled on his
fingerless gloves. "Full house tonight."
"It's always a full house. You know that."
Ranma frowned. "You don't sound happy about it."
Ryoga shrugged.
"What's up, Ryoga? Is something -"
"Hi, guys!" A chipper greeting sounded out behind them. Ranma
rolled his eyes as he broke off. Ryoga bit his lip to hide his smile.
"Hi, Ucchan," Ranma replied, turning.
"Ranchan, honey, I've got this great idea for a new drum pattern
for your opening song. Look, here," she said, shoving a
pencil-smeared piece of paper at him.
"Er... thanks, Ucchan, but it's a bit late to change right now.
Tell ya what - I'll go over it before our next show, 'kay?"
Ukyo beamed. "Great! You'll love it!" She turned to leave, then
looked over her shoulder with a private smile and a wink. "See you
after the show, Ranchan."
After she left, Ranma turned to one of the support columns and
began rhythmically banging his forehead against it. "I have got to
get a new girlfriend," he muttered.
Ryoga let the smile he'd been hiding escape. "Hey, you were the
one who said she was cute, remember? You should've known better than
to encourage a groupie."
Ranma groaned. "Don't remind me," he mumbled, still pounding his
forehead against the beam. "Besides, she's not a groupie."
"You might not want to bash your head so hard right before the
show, pal," Ryoga said with a grin.
"Ow," Ranma commented as he rubbed his forehead. "It's not as if
I can just dump her, though. She's... well, I dunno. Except for her
habit of trying to get involved in everything I do, she's great."
"Well, now isn't the time to think about it. We're on!"
Ranma tossed the paper over his shoulder and took a deep breath.
"Right. Let's do it!"
As they came out onto the stage, the crowd got even louder, if
that were possible. The other two members of the band nodded as they
emerged from the other wings. All were walking carefully amidst the
jumble of cables. The dimmed lights didn't help much, but they were
used to it - had to build up the crowd, after all.
Akane couldn't hold back her grin as she took her place behind the
drums. From the look of him, Ukyo had been bugging Ranma again. He
was professional enough not to let the crowd see it, but after a
couple of years on the road together, you got to where you could read
people pretty well, she thought, and he looked as if he'd been sucking
on a lemon. She couldn't wait until after the show - for some reason,
she loved needling Ranma about his groupie girlfriend.
Mousse paced sedately towards his place on stage, dressed in his
traditional white robes. The female portion of the crowd was in a
frenzy - most, if not all of them, knew what was coming. He
suppressed a grin. It wouldn't do for it to get out, but he secretly
got a kick out of the way they responded to his act. He was also very
glad that the rest of the band had forced him to get contacts, after
that debacle in Dallas. He found his place and turned to face the
crowd, hands hidden in his sleeves and an inscrutable half-smile
carefully plastered on his face.
Ryoga was grateful he would be facing the crowd for most of the
show, rather than the band. Even though Akane's stage outfit was the
most normal out of all of them - a pair of tight jeans and a loose
t-shirt - the sight of her was still enough to break his
concentration. To spare himself, he turned his attention towards the
crowd. As usual, everyone was screaming at the top of their lungs.
Signs held by people farther back in the crowd waved madly. Ryoga had
long since given up trying to figure out what they were supposed to
say - didn't the crowd realize that they were nearly impossible to see
with the glare of the stage lights shining right in his face?
Ranma reached his position at the front of the stage. One hand
came up to grip the mike stand, while the other hung down loosely.
Every band member was watching that hand closely, he knew, and they
would swing into action the moment he signaled.
Head bowed, Ranma waited. The crowd hushed expectantly. The
tension in the auditorium was like a gathering storm, waiting for
release. Ranma eyed the crowd carefully, then smiled to himself.
"Now," he murmured, so low the mike couldn't pick it up.
His lowered hand curled into a fist. One finger. Two fingers.
Three fingers. Fist.
Ryoga was the first one up. A pencil spot stabbed him like a bug
on a plate, making his eyes water, but he didn't need to see for this.
He grabbed his axe with one hand, spinning it like it was a living
extension of his own body, as his other hand swooped up and snagged
his pick from it's resting place. As his hand came back down, he
stopped the spin of the guitar. His pick hand stopped precisely over
the guitar, and immediately the high intro notes began wailing.
Mousse came in next. One moment he was standing perfectly still,
and the next his robes flew off, and for a moment he was totally
obscured by them. When they fluttered back down to the stage, the
roar of the crowd grew - especially the female contingent - and Mousse
allowed himself a small grin. His long black hair swirled over his
bare chest and torso, and disappeared against his black satin pants.
He loved driving the crowd nuts. He came in precisely on beat, the
deeper notes of his guitar meshing perfectly with Ryoga's higher ones.
Akane came in at nearly the same time as Mousse. Her sticks flew
up - the tech crew working frantically to keep a spot on them - and
glittered menacingly in the harsh lighting. She waited patiently,
eyes closed and hands extended, and was rewarded with a double slap
against her palms as both sticks landed. She continued their downward
motion without a pause, and the thudding of her drums joined the
harmony. She grinned to herself as she established the beat. This
was living!
Slowly, Ranma's head came up, and he began swaying to the beat.
His eyes, which had been closed, slowly opened and captured the crowd.
His face grew somber, and as the intro finished he began to sing.
She's got a smile that it seems to me
Reminds me of childhood memories
Where everything
Was as fresh as the bright blue sky
Now and then when I see her face
She takes me away to that
special place
And if I stared too long
I'd probably break down and cry
Ranma let the emotion of the song draw him in, and felt his body
responding. The music was working it's magic again, and he didn't
want to stop it.
Whoa, oh oh, sweet child o' mine
Whoa, oh oh oh, sweet love of mine
Ryoga swayed to the music as his hands manipulated the guitar.
Now that the music was playing, he could forget his problems, and just
live. He started edging his way across the stage. Part of playing
was the show, and he knew what the crowd loved to see... and there was
no thrill like that of playing before an ecstatic crowd.
She's got eyes of the bluest skies
As if they thought of rain
I hate to look into those eyes
And see an ounce of pain
Her hair reminds me
of a warm safe place
Where as a child I'd hide
And pray for the thunder
And the rain
To quietly pass me by
Whoa, oh oh, sweet child o' mine
Whoa, oh oh oh, sweet love of mine
Ranma grinned internally as the band carried the melody.
Externally, his face was sad, eyes closed and streaked by tears, and
he had to admit to himself that they were, to an extent, real. They
had to be - the fans would know if he faked it, and he didn't *want*
to fake it. Part of the joy was letting the music take control. But
his main emotion was something approaching joy. Had anyone told him
years ago that he'd be singing in front of a packed house, he'd have
told them to sell it somewhere else. But now...
He opened his eyes again as his cue came up. Now... now it was
time to let it loose.
Whoa, oh oh, sweet child o' mine
Whoa, oh oh oh, sweet love of mine
Whoa, oh oh oh, sweet child o' mine, ooooh, yeah
Whoo, sweet love of mine
He could feel the band getting into it too... to his left, Mousse
and Ryoga played back-to-back, eyes closed, faces shining, hands
strumming so fast that they became a blur and leaning against each
other for support. Behind and to his right, Akane thumped the drums,
hair flying as her head tossed back and forth to the beat. He felt
the climax of the song approaching, and embraced it. Ryoga's axe was
wailing like a banshee as he worked his magic, and Ranma took a deep
breath in preparation. Suddenly, the guitars dropped into the
background, and the whole band quieted. Not silent, but playing
softly. This was it. As Ranma began to sing, the band joined in with
background vocals.
Where do we go
Where do we go now
Where do we go
Oh, where do we go now
Where do we go
Sweet child
Where do we go now
Like the crest of a wave, Ranma could feel the music gathering and
breaking around him. The guitars came back in, the drums beat
incessantly, and he let all his emotion pour out into the words.
Where do we go
Where do we go now
Where do we go
Where do we go now
Where do we go
Where do we go now
Sweet child
Sweet child of mine
The last note stretched out, and Ranma savored it. As it
continued, the lights started to drop, and Ryoga and Akane drifted
their instruments out. Ranma trailed off, letting the last note
linger as long as he could, and Mousse was alone, playing his last
note so quietly it could barely be heard. As the lights finished
dropping, leaving only a lone, dim spot on each band member, they
became aware that the crowd had hushed. Heads bowed, the band waited.
They didn't wait long.
The crowd exploded, cheering assaulting their eardrums like a
thunderstorm. Ranma would almost have sworn that he saw the walls
shaking in response. Wiping tears from his face with one hand, Ranma
grabbed the mike as the other band members drifted offstage to change
(in two cases) or merely relax (in one case) for the next song.
"We'll be right back, folks!" he yelled into the mike, then
followed his band offstage.
-----------------------