Warning! This is a dark fic! By this I mean that two out of three
prereaders found the story unsettling and/or disturbing, and that I myself
consider this to be an unsettling part of the story. I am also keeping the
lemon warning - even though nothing truly explicit happens in part two, the
story deals with adult issues. Please DO NOT read this if you are underage
or if mature themes disturb you, or if you think you cannot handle a dark
story. This is your only warning.
The Price of Passion, Part Two
by Yoiko
"A-Akane?"
"Oh, no," Akane moaned, rolling herself off of Ryoga and scrubbing at her
tears. "Oh, no, no, no..."
"I'm... I..." Ryoga paused and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry," he finally
managed, his voice cracking. Akane made a noise that was half-laugh,
half-sob.
"Not half as sorry as I am." Ryoga's eyes widened, and Akane turned away
from the soul-deep hurt there. Numbly, she started to get dressed, dimly
aware that Ryoga was pulling his pants on and searching in vain for his
shirt.
"Downstairs," she said quietly, and led him to the ground floor, both of
them shaken and silent.
"Well, well," a familiar voice said coldly as they neared the bottom of the
steps, and Akane and Ryoga both froze in shock. "It's about time you two
came downstairs."
"R-Ranma," Ryoga said, his eyes wide with fear as he noticed the manic
gleam in his rival's eyes. "It's not what you think-"
"Don't you even speak to me," Ranma snarled through clenched teeth, shaking
in fury. "After what you've done, you goddamned bast-"
"Ranma!" Akane interrupted. "It wasn't Ryoga's fault."
"Not his fault! How can you say that? He RAPED you!" Akane reeled in
shock at the word 'rape' as Ranma brandished the canister of Passion Spice,
waving it right under her nose. "He gave you this!"
"That's a lie!" Ryoga shouted. "Akane, you know how it- you can't possibly
believe-"
"No...that's wrong," Akane said, pushing the canister away from her with a
grimace. "Ryoga's a nice guy, he wouldn't-"
"A nice guy?" Ranma's eyes widened, and with a half-crazed smile, he
crossed to the other side of the grill, coming back a moment later with a
full glass of water. "You wanna see how nice a guy he is?"
"No!" Ryoga gasped, stepping behind Akane. Ranma darted forward, flung the
cold water over him and then clamped a hand around the horrified piglet's
rib cage, holding him up in front of Akane.
"There's your Nice Guy!" he snarled, shaking P-Chan, who squirmed
uselessly. Ranma didn't even feel it when two of P-Chan's ribs snapped
under the pressure, but he heard the piglet's pained whimper.
"Rapist," he spat. "Serve you right if I get a vet-" his threat was cut
off by a cry of concern as Akane slumped to the floor in a dead faint.
"Akane!" Ranma fell to his knees, still holding his helpless enemy in an
iron grip. P-Chan frantically tried to squirm free, and Ranma squeezed
again, making the broken ends of his ribs scrape each other. In a desperate
effort to stop the pain, the little piglet lashed out with his teeth, hoping
to startle Ranma into dropping him. Suddenly P-Chan was flying, thrown
toward the wall with devastating force. His front legs took the brunt of
the impact, but it wasn't enough to protect his head from a stunning blow.
P-Chan tumbled to the floor, jarring the agonizing pain in his ribs. He
staggered up on wobbling legs, trying to pull himself away as the darkness
surrounded him, trying to force his limbs to coordinate and run... The last
thing he saw was Ranma reaching down toward him, a grim smile on his face.
*****
Akane woke up feeling odd, and had to focus a moment to remember what it
was that had her out of sorts. She closed her eyes again and groaned as the
memory returned. Ryoga's wide eyes, his voice whispering, "I don't know
what to do... you'll never forgive me," then his hands, his sweet mouth, his
body...
"Oh, God," she whispered, and slowly sat up, wondering how she had come to
be back in her own room. Ranma had accused Ryoga of raping her... did that
mean Ryoga had known there was Passion Spice in the food? Was that why he
hadn't eaten much? And then... he was... P-Chan... Another wave of
dizziness swept over her, and she grimaced at the bile that rose in her
throat. If Ryoga was the kind of person who would take advantage of her
trust that way... then who was to say that he wasn't the one who put the
Spice in the food? He had accused Ukyo, she remembered now. But what if
all his protests had been a game, and one he'd known he would win? She had
been well and truly drugged... had it been part of his sick plan to have her
beg him? She cringed with shame, her cheeks flaming. She had done a lot
more than just beg.
A new thought struck her, and fresh horror welled up with overpowering
nausea, and she ran for the bathroom. What if she were pregnant? Sobbing,
she stripped off her soiled clothing and scrubbed herself, trying to wipe
away the memory of Ryoga's hands, his mouth... she scrubbed till her skin
was raw and stinging, and stepped into the scalding bath with a hiss of
pain. Shivering miserably, she settled down into the steaming water,
hugging herself against a chill that no amount of heat could thaw. What if
she were pregnant?
*****
Ryoga struggled to wake up. A deep breath brought stabbing pain back to
life in his side, and after several minutes he managed to squint one eye
open. His left arm was curled in front of him, and he gasped in horror as
he noted that the canister of Passion Spice lay right beside him. In an
effort to crawl away from the incriminating canister, he tried to move his
right arm, and the hot flash of agony that shot up the protesting limb made
him cry out hoarsely. He closed his eye again, and made no further effort
to sort out how his limbs were arranged. A chilly breeze blew over his
naked, twisted body, ruffling his hair like the touch of a lover. He
shivered, and his ribs protested the torment, provoking another hoarse
whimper.
"Hey, what's - look at this!" a deep voice exclaimed. Ryoga almost wept
with relief that it wasn't Ranma's voice. "Looks like he's been run over or
somethin'!"
"Looks like he needs a doctor," the second voice said.
"What's this here?" said a third voice. "Passion Spice?" Ryoga heard the
sound of the canister opening, and he opened his eyes with a gasp, looking
up in time to see three tough-looking men, one of whom dipped a finger into
the Spice and licked it off.
"Hm," he commented, and Ryoga noted absently that the man had evidently
been in more than one fight in his life - his nose had obviously been broken
and healed before, probably more than once, and his knuckles were scarred.
"C'mon, don't be messing with that stuff, Koji. The kid looks like he's
been hurt," the shortest of the three said.
"Got a pretty little face, though," Koji replied, and Ryoga's eyes flew
wide as a pair of big, hard hands started touching him familiarly.
"No!" Ryoga opened his mouth to bellow, but the hands pushed against his
ribs, and all that came out was a tiny, agonized whisper of sound.
"Man, what the hell are you doing?" the third man said, reaching down to
grab his crooked-nosed friend by the shoulder.
"Taking him with us. You want to go upstairs, right, Pretty Boy?" Koji
swept the lost boy up over his shoulder, and Ryoga mercifully passed out. A
dark laugh was the last thing he heard, and his last conscious thought was
that Ranma had set him up.
*****
Akane spent the next few days in a welter of anxiety, while her thoughts
traveled in circles. She couldn't tell Dr. Tofu what had happened... and
what if she went to buy a pregnancy test, and someone recognized her? And
what would she do if she turned out to be pregnant? And even if she
wasn't... what should she do? She couldn't marry Ranma now... and that was
assuming he even wanted to marry her. She couldn't bear it if he made her
shame public...
And what about Ranma? He was her fiance, and she had expected that her
first time would be with him. And Ryoga... she had known about his crush on
her, and she had secretly enjoyed it. She'd felt guilty for not just
confronting him about it at the start, but it had been so flattering to have
someone adore her that way. But now... the thought of what they had done
together brought a twinge of remembered pleasure to go with the guilt, but
knowing that he had orchestrated it made her sick with shame and anger. The
roiling emotions and twisted echo of desire nauseated her... and then she
was back to worrying over the possibility of pregnancy again.
She mechanically went through the motions of an average day, but all of it,
classes and exams and family dinners, faded into a haze of unreality, and
she found that she couldn't meet anyone's eyes, least of all Ranma's. She
felt as though she was looking at her life through a distorted lens... and
at night she wept for what she had lost, for her sense of self and the easy
joy in her own life that she had taken for granted.
What if she were pregnant?
*****
Ryoga gasped as he climbed the last flight of stairs, almost ignoring the
white-hot agony of his ribs in his panic. He had finally escaped from Koji
and his friends... he brushed at his mouth, spitting out the last of the
Spice, and forced open the door that led out onto the roof, wondering just
how many floors this building had, anyway. It had seemed like an awfully
long climb...
"Nowhere left to run... now come back and play," Koji said, and Ryoga
turned to see the three men starting up the flight of stairs. His face
twisted with revulsion. If they touched him, he'd be lost... Stifling a
whimper of pain, Ryoga staggered up the last step and slammed the metal door
shut. They were right, there was nowhere left to run... He wouldn't be
able to hold the door shut against the three of them for very long, either.
A single tear traced down his cheek as he made his inevitable decision, and
he ran to the edge of the roof and over, his wide-open eyes taking in the
sight of the street far below him.
He had never really known Hell until now.
*****
Ukyo stood for a long time, staring at the Tendos' front door. This wasn't
going to be easy... but she owed Ran-chan - she owed Ranma an apology and an
explanation. And she had to speak to Akane, as well. Taking a deep breath,
she knocked.
"Yes? Oh, hello!" Kasumi said, and Ukyo took encouragement from the fact
that the eldest Tendo sister was smiling at her.
"I need to talk to Ranma. Is he here?" she asked, fidgeting nervously with
the ends of her hair - she had left her combat spatula back at the
restaurant, but her hands felt empty, and she missed its comforting weight
strapped to her back.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, but you've missed him," Kasumi said.
"Kasumi? Who is it?" Akane's voice asked from inside the house, and then
Akane herself peered around her older sister. The almost-smile faded from
her face, and her expression closed up. "Oh. You're too late, he's gone
already."
"Gone?"
"Ranma left on a training trip," Kasumi explained, smiling apologetically
as Akane started to stalk away.
"Wait! Akane, I want to talk to you!" Ukyo cried.
"Well, I don't want to talk to you," Akane snapped, then turned on her heel
and climbed the stairs, her posture stiff with anger.
"I'm so sorry, but you seem to have come at a bad time," Kasumi said.
"No, I'm sorry. I'll try again later," Ukyo answered glumly. "Do you know
when Ranma will be back?"
"According to his note... never," Kasumi said, her eyes deep with
sympathetic regret. "I'm so sorry that you missed him."
"I see," Ukyo said. "Well... thank you." She turned and started to walk
away, stunned. Ranma was gone for good.
"Goodbye," Kasumi called, and Ukyo waved numbly. Her thoughts churned as
she made her way to the Nekohanten to talk to Cologne - surely the two of
them could put their heads together and find a way to put things to
rights...
Long-lashed eyes widened incredulously as she approached the restaurant.
An "Out of Business" sign had been hastily nailed onto the front door, and
other than that the place appeared to be deserted. A long moment passed
while it all sank in - Cologne's willingness to cooperate, Ranma's
disappearance, the Nekohanten hurriedly closed down. Ukyo's face slowly
reddened, and her fists clenched in impotent fury, aching for the solid,
heavy handle of her combat spatula.
"That old WITCH!" she howled. Her outburst attracted some attention from
passersby, and Ukyo belatedly calmed herself and started walking. After the
people who had witnessed her little outburst had moved on, Ukyo retraced her
steps to the Nekohanten and snuck down the side alley.
The door presented no challenge at all to a person with her abilities - one
solid kick tore it half off the hinges. Ukyo entered the kitchen
cautiously - there was no telling what kinds of traps Cologne might have
left behind. That crafty old crone had played Ukyo like a fiddle... and
she, sucker that she was, had fallen right into the Amazons' plans. Not
only were Ranma and Akane split up, but the only one with dirty hands in the
matter was Ukyo.
"How could I have been so blind?" she muttered to herself. A pitiful
squawk caught her attention, and Ukyo turned to see a white duck closed up
in a wooden cage in a dark corner of the room.
"They left you here to starve to death?" Ukyo asked, horrified. The duck
watched quietly as she knelt and unfastened the cage, then it waddled out
and looked at her. "This is probably my fault too, you know," Ukyo sighed.
"Well, at least you're better off free than you would be on a dinner plate.
Go on, duck. You can count yourself lucky. I have to figure out what to
do..." The duck quacked encouragingly, and Ukyo shrugged. "Talking to a
duck. Now I know I've really lost it..." She sighed again, and sat on the
wood floor, and slowly related the whole hurtful tale, from Ranma and
Akane's date to finding the Nekohanten abandoned. "It's all my fault," she
said, her throat tight with unshed tears, "and now I've got to find some way
to fix things..." Ukyo leaned heavily against the wall, her head hanging in
shame and defeat, and sobbed quietly, unaware that the curiously attentive
duck was still watching her.
*****
"He's coming around," a deep voice said, and Ryoga winced, straining to get
away from the grating tones. Everything hurt, and he couldn't move.
Someone pulled his eyelids apart, and he whimpered at the lancing pain in
his head as a light seemed to pierce through him. He tried to turn away as
the procedure was repeated with his other eye.
"No concussion. It's amazing..." someone mumbled.
"Where...?" he gasped.
"Just take it easy, kid, you're in the hospital."
"I'm not dead?"
"What'd you say?"
"He asked if he's dead," a female voice answered. "You're not dead, young
man. Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." There was a vaguely oniony
taste in the back of his throat, and he tried to lift an arm to brush aside
the plastic mask covering his mouth and nose, but his limbs wouldn't
respond.
"Just relax, kid," the man's voice said. "Just breathe nice and easy."
"The world... is a dark and lonely..." Ryoga mumbled, and then he knew no
more.
*****
Ukyo's heart skipped a beat as she saw the letter in her mailbox, addressed
in a familiar scrawl. Several rubber bands attached the letter to an
unmarked videotape, and she snapped half of them in her haste to get to the
letter. Her search of the Nekohanten had done absolutely no good - there
hadn't been so much as a scrap of a clue to lead her to Ranma. But now...
if he was contacting her, there was still hope. Somehow, everything just
had to work out!
"Ukyo," the letter began, and her heart sank. Not "Ucchan" or even "Dear
Ukyo," but just "Ukyo."
"Ukyo, by the time you read this I'll be long gone. I'm not coming back to
Nerima and I never want to see you again. There's a videotape there, it's
for Ryoga. Don't look at it. Just give it to him. I'm sure you'll know
where to find him..." The rest of it blurred in her vision, and she sank
down onto the ground, sobbing, the letter crumpled in one hand.
*****
"...Son, wake up, now," a familiar deep voice was saying, and Ryoga moaned.
His eyes felt gummy as though they'd been glued shut, but he forced them to
open and focused blearily on his father's face.
"Dad?"
"Oh, thank goodness you're all right!" his mother said, and Ryoga blinked,
mustering up a faint smile. His ribs were the least of his problems now -
his right leg and arm were covered in plaster casts, and everything hurt.
His mother brushed his long bangs out of his eyes, and his head throbbed
fiercely under the stiffness of more bandages. He could only imagine what
he looked like.
"Son... tell us what happened," his father said solemnly.
"What?"
"We know that some of your injuries..." His father was obviously
uncomfortable, and Ryoga was puzzled.
"What about my injuries?"
"Dear, there's plenty of time to go into that later," his mother said, and
patted Ryoga's cheek lightly. "We're just so glad you're all right, Ryoga."
"Thanks, Mom..." Ryoga whispered, his throat tightening. "I'm glad to see
you both." It suddenly occurred to him that they didn't know... they must
never know...
"Hello?" There was a soft knock at the door. "May I come in?"
"Well, hello, Miss," Mr. Hibiki said.
"I'm here to see Ryoga, is this the right room?"
"What are you doing here?" Ryoga snapped.
"Now, now, Son, show some manners," his mother reproved, and Ryoga glared
at Ukyo as she crossed to the foot of the bed.
"I... uh, got a letter," Ukyo said, trying not to react visibly to the
sight of Ryoga battered and broken in a hospital bed. This was what her
actions had brought... "From Ranma."
"Oh, isn't that your little friend, dear?" Mrs. Hibiki asked, oblivious to
the fact that Ryoga had gone suddenly pale at the mention of Ranma's name.
Mr. Hibiki noticed, though, and frowned.
"Did this letter concern my son in some way?" he asked, still frowning. He
wondered if Ranma had something to do with his son's injuries... perhaps
that explained the strange reaction to his name.
"Sort of... he sent me this tape, and the letter said to bring it to
Ryoga."
"Hm. Well, no harm in that," Mr. Hibiki said, and took the tape from her.
"Videotape, huh? Well, we have a player here..."
"If you'll excuse me, I should go now," Ukyo said, and hurried out of the
room, hoping to get to the restroom before anyone saw her crying. Somehow,
some way, she would have to make it right... In the letter, Ranma had
accused her of working with Ryoga, and had insisted that she do this one
thing for him. Her heart broke, knowing that he never wanted to see her
again. The worst part of all was that she had done it to herself.
*****
"No, please..." a husky voice rasped from the TV monitor. Ryoga gaped in
horror as he realized what the videotape was.
"Ryoga, what-?" His mother's hand rose to cover her mouth as the image
focused, revealing Ryoga grimacing in pain and unmistakable passion.
"Turn it off!" Ryoga shouted, but his father stood frozen as the camera
angle widened to show his son writhing in the arms of the three men. Ryoga
turned white as a sheet, then very dark as the blood rushed to his face in a
heated blush. Both his parents turned to face him, and he drew a sharp,
panicked breath as he saw the censure in his father's expression.
"Dad, it's not what it looks-"
"It looks," Mr. Hibiki gritted out through clenched teeth, "like you..."
He paused a moment, his fists clenching furiously. "It looks like you had
sex with three MEN and enjoyed it!"
"But it wasn't-" Ryoga protested. The video screen behind them showed the
obscene mockery of pleasure in which Ryoga had unwillingly participated.
"No son of mine..." Mr. Hibiki began. "No. I have no son." He turned his
back then, and Ryoga glanced helplessly at his mother. She looked from her
son to her husband, and after a long pause she silently turned. They left
without another word, and the impassioned moans from the TV almost blocked
the sound of their footsteps as they walked away.
With a wild, anguished cry, Ryoga dragged himself out of the bed, staggered
across the room, and slammed his left hand through the TV screen. The
searing pain was nothing compared to the loss of his family as he destroyed
the unit, ripped out the videotape and mutilated it beyond recognition. He
was oblivious to the orderlies crowding into the room until one of them
stabbed a needle into him, and he fell into a faint, and there was nothing
but agony and blackness.
*****
He woke slowly, numbness smothering him. He forced himself to take a deep
breath and shook his head, feeling as though it were stuffed with cotton.
His limbs were numb, too. He remembered that his right arm was in a cast,
but the left one... the left arm wasn't moving as he willed it to. Taking
in another deep breath, he forced his eyelids apart. His left arm was
restrained, the hand swathed in fresh white bandages, and there were bands
across his body preventing movement. He would have whimpered, but no sound
would come out. His breathing quickened and became more shallow as he
struggled futilely to get out of the restraints.
"Don't bother, you're not going anywhere," a voice said softly, and Ryoga
looked up to see a nurse watching over him. Her icy blue eyes offered
little comfort, and he bristled under the impartial gaze, tugging
experimentally at his bonds.
"How is he?" an all-too-familiar voice asked, and he turned to glare
poisonously at Ukyo as she stepped into the room. "Don't be that way,
Ryoga. I think I have a solution to your problems."
"What could you possibly know about my problems?" Ryoga snarled.
"Well, I heard about what happened with your family..." Ukyo said. "And
since I feel responsible for the whole mess with Ranma and Akane..."
"You ARE responsible!"
"Don't get over-excited," the nurse interrupted, "or I'll have to give you
another shot." With a pointed look at each of them, she made a quick
notation in Ryoga's chart and then left.
"You are responsible," Ryoga insisted in a quieter tone of voice. "I
didn't have anything to do with it."
"I know, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Ukyo
admitted. "Look, I'm admitting that I'm to blame-"
"Damn right."
"And I'm TRYING to make it right, ya jackass!"
"Who are you calling a jackass?"
"You don't want to get over-excited,"Ukyo reminded him, and Ryoga glared at
her, then turned away with a huff, straining against the bands that held
him.
"Anyway, since you lost your own family..."
"WHAT?!"
"You know, it says here that you're not eating," Ukyo commented, flipping
through his chart casually.
"How dare you?!"
"Is that why they've got that IV set up? You look like you're losing
weight."
"What the hell has that got to do with anything?"
"So, it's true. You're not eating."
"That's none of your business!"
"Just proves you really need some mothering."
"Get out of here now, or I'll call the nurse," Ryoga snarled.
"Suit yourself," Ukyo said, "but the more you make a jackass out of
yourself, the more convinced I am that you need my help."
"Get out, NOW!" Ryoga cried. "I don't want your help - I want my life
back!"
"What's going on in here?" a nurse asked, stepping into the room, and Ukyo
took advantage of the opportunity to leave, ignoring the sound of Ryoga
yelling after her. His family had officially disowned him, but she hadn't
had the heart to tell him about it while he was still in his sick bed...
even if he had been acting like a jackass.
No, the poor kid didn't need to hear about the parents that didn't want
him. What he needed... was a family. "Someone to take care of him..." she
mused to herself as she stepped onto the elevator. Jackass or not, she just
had to help Ryoga. It was the least she could do.
*****
Ranma stood on the port side of the ship, breathing deeply of the clean
salt spray as the vessel carved her way through the swelling waves. The sky
above was cloudless, and he had a perfect view of the stars in all their
glory. Looking out over the prow, there was nothing but the vastness of sea
and sky, extending to a horizon hidden in the dark of night. Dark and dark
and more dark. It almost made him feel as directionless as Ryoga...
He frowned, disturbed by the queasy mix of guilt and lingering fury that
still bubbled up when he thought of Ryoga. Ryoga had been the closest thing
to a best friend he'd ever had... but he had... what Ryoga had done...
And Ukyo had helped him do it, damn her. He had thought, of all of them,
she'd be the last person to do something like that. He didn't know whether
Ryoga was dead or alive, and he wasn't sure he cared... no, that wasn't
true, and it was stupid to lie to himself under the cold, clear sky. He
cared, even though he shouldn't. He even cared enough about Ukyo to leave
town before he did something to hurt her, too. He was drenched with shame
for what he had done to Ryoga... yet the fury was still there, and it
chilled him to the bone.
A vision of Akane came unbidden to his mind's eye, and his heart twisted
with grief. He hadn't wanted to leave her... but she had been so disgusted
with his loss of control, she hadn't even spoken to him or looked at him for
days...
He brushed salty wetness from his cheeks, which could have been sea spray
but wasn't, and faced into the wind again as the ship carried him inexorably
forward into the encompassing darkness.
... to be continued...
Author's Notes:
The characters in this story are not mine (they are the creation and
property of Rumiko Takahashi, and are used here without permission), and
neither is the idea of "Passion Spice." My apologies to whoever thought up
"Passion Spice." I don't have a name to attach to the idea, but if you let
me know who you are, I'll be happy to give you proper credit.
Many thanks to Gary, Tzigane, and Jamie for all your help and suggestions,
and to all the readers who responded to the original fic "The Price of
Passion," for your encouragement and your comments. ^_^