All comments strictly my opinion, and offered in good spirit.
Dead Butch part 1
A Ranma 1/2 fic by Michelle Thatcher
***
I know I wouldn't be the first to comment on it, but life
can be a real bitch sometimes.
Okay, not everyone has discovered this fact for themselves
yet. There are still some starry eyed sixteen-year olds out
starry-eyed sixteen-year-olds
there who believe their lives'll turn out exactly the way they
plan them. They'll meet a nice girl, they'll fight with her for
a while, they'll have some other friends to fight with too for a
couple more years, but eventually they'll marry the girl and
maybe not fight as much and be happy and definitely *not* get
themselves or their friends stuck as a girl or a duck or, god
forbid, a pig for the rest of their lives. They'll have a damn
house and some damn kids and a damn fairy tale life with their
family and their friends ... and the girl ... most definitely the
girl ... 'cause it's only fair, right? It's only fair after
everything they've done for her.
{OK, right here was where I was hooked. I don't know why, and I wish I
did, 'cause I'd like to be able to do that myself. :) It's clearly Ranma
himself... er, herself... but what's he upset about? Reading on...}
Of *course* there are stupid kids who still believe stuff
like that. 'Cause they don't know better, right? They don't
know that fair is the last thing life owes them. They don't know
that life *isn't* like a game or a song or a god damn fairy tale.
goddamn
I dunno. Some sick cosmic joke, maybe? Some philosophical
childhood? Maybe life knows that if they're happy for a while
they'll be more miserable later when they lose the fight and lose
the cure and lose their family and finally ... lose the girl.
{Uh oh. We are talking *personal* here...}
At least not forever.
least, not {?}
I mean, why let the bitch win? Why let her defeat you
completely? That one or the other one.
{"other one"? *piku* This is also very Ranma, though; down, perhaps, but
not out.}
I mean, so what. You're a girl now and you haven't even
*seen* your mother in eight years, except for that one time on
that Tokyo street when you just had to know if she was ... and
you *accidentally* let her see you for a moment, but she couldn't
remember. She looked at you like maybe she should know who you
were, but it'd been so long and ...
{ouch.}
And you said goodbye to your father six years ago, 'cause
you just knew you'd have cracked his stupid bald skull wide open
if you had to see that disgusting defeated look in his eyes
another minute.
{hmm. I guess Genma wasn't stuck in his cursed form with the others,
then... interesting.}
And the last time you saw A- -
- the last time you saw -
...
{Oh dear.}
Now I ain't saying it's easy. You make rules for yourself.
You tell yourself it's gonna get better. You don't let yourself
think about ... the things that it's too hard to think about. It
ain't easy. It's *life*
*life*.
So one day I was on a training trip. There's still nothing
like a little open space and the art to give a guy some peace of
mind. I mean, at the risk of sounding like some dumb greeting
card, even when you *are* all alone in the world and have someone
else's girl-type body and no hope of ever finding anything like
true love or even someone who'll *believe* you when you tell them
why you don't like guys *or* girls, there *are* still things in
the world that are good, or worth doing, or worth seeing, or
worth protecting.
{This fic really needs HTML so you can use bold or italic, I see. :) I
stumbled over the past tenses, though; up until now it's like Ranma is
making with the monologue, and that's fine, but when he starts into
telling the story, I can't tell whether he's telling it to me afterwards
(which would require past tense) or we're along for the ride (present
tense) or Ranma doesn't give a damn about tense... I'll assume present
tense is what you had in mind but that some past tense crept in, but I'm
prepared to be mistaken. :)}
So anyway, one day there I was in the mountains and I just
So anyway, here I am
found this mostly clean lake and decided to maybe spend a couple
find {...} decide
days here and then outta nowhere, there's Ryouga.
then, outta
I see Ryouga now and again, usually on the road. So, I go
over and pick the little porker up by the bandana. "Hey,
Ryouga," I say "You want some curry?"
say.
I mean, when your life's like mine, you just get that
feeling sometimes. It's usually right too, so I look around, but
right, too,
I can't see anything but trees and rocks and stuff. Not exactly
comforting, but there's not a whole lot I can do about it. So P-
chan and I finish eating and I ask him if he wants to join me for
a swim.
Now, I know what you're thinking. Somebody watching, so
what does the stupid chick do? She takes her clothes off. Well,
whatever. Even after all this time I still don't really care who
sees 'em. I mean, I don't really even think of 'em as real. But
if I flash 'em around a little, maybe whoever's out there'll get
brave or distracted or stupid. If he ain't interested in that
sorta thing, maybe he'll get bored and go away. At least this
way, though, I'll be getting something useful done instead of
just sitting by my cook fire and getting smellier. I leave the
{or maybe} campfire
food where it is, pick up my companion, and wade off into the
lake.
The feeling's gone by the time we get back. So's what's
left of the food. But the really weird thing is that now all my
dishes and the pans I carry with me have been washed and dried
and stacked neatly. Mystery solved, then. Just some poor honest
shy martial artist type
{It's Konatsu, isn't it?}
who didn't know what else to do about
getting a meal for the night. I don't begrudge the poor slob his
dinner. I mean, I been in that position before myself. Without
thinking any more about it, I put out my bed roll, make room for
bedroll,
the pig, and turn in.
***
Now, I know that sleep is important for relaxing the body
and resting the spirit and yada yada yada. I got the concept.
I've never really been very big on sleep, though.
{Really? In the manga, he seemed to be an enthusiastic sleeper...
certainly a very sound sleeper. :) But he might not admit it, of
course.}
Once upon a
time that was because there was always something important to be
doing. There was training or fighting or food. You know. Back
when life was like a martial arts flick, not some damn movie of
the week.
These days, though, there are other reasons.
I remember what dreams are supposed to be like. I remember
what they were like when the things at the surface of my
sub-conscious were friendlier. These days I'm more reluctant
subconscious
than ever to lay down for a night's sleep. Most of the time I
don't even remember my dreams, but I know I have them. Don't
take a rocket scientist. There's the dreams where you jump
upright at 2:00 am with sweaty palms and rapid heartbeat.
There's the dreams that just make you bone weary from scalp to
toenail. There's the dreams that you know were happy dreams,
because it's a genuine shock to wake up and get depressed all
over again when you remember where you are and what's happened to
you. There's the ones where you wake up and your mouth tastes
like blood and your throat is so raw that you're surprised the
neighbors haven't complained. And, my personal favorite, the
ones you think you almost remember for about five seconds after
you wake up but even after every image has disappeared from your
groggy waking mind, you're somehow still afraid you're going to
spend the rest of the morning bawling like a baby.
{Ouch. I identify strongly with some of those categories, and hope never
to identify strongly with the others... so this packs a wallop.}
This particular morning, it was just a rather dull depressed
it's just {up 'til now, it's been present tense...}
confusion. It took me a moment to figure out where I was. Rock
It takes me a moment to figure out where I am.
in the small of my back, check. Wind on my face, check.
Commence opening of eyes. Weird pink light in that suspiciously
east-like direction, check. Something warm under left arm.
Initiate visual confirmation procedure. Seems to be a small
black pig, sir. Ryouga. Check.
Right. The training trip, the lake, the mysterious hungry
person.
And yes, I was still female. The day was 60% shot already.
yes, I'm still female. The day is 60% shot already.
So there I was with the prospect of another 24 hours of
So here I am
living to do.
Goody.
I sit up, rub my eyes, and look around. It was really a
It's really
pretty nice morning. Clear and cool. Nice breeze. Breakfast
swimming around in that lake somewhere. I talk myself into
getting up. Piggy's still sleeping, so I leave the bed roll
where it is, strip, and wander out into the water.
I try to keep my eyes open enough to notice if Ryouga woke
up, but when I come back to start a fire for all these obliging
fish, he's gone. Truth to tell, that depresses me a little more.
Not much I can do about it now, though. If I thought it'd help
help,
I'd go look for him, but from past experience, there's really no
point. Dammit.
Around the lake and over a rise and down a canyon I find
what looks like it might be a small restaurant. Weird place for
one, but I ain't complaining. The thing about places like this
is that if they're as isolated as this one there's usually a
reason and it's usually not 'cause the real estate's cheap if you
cheap, if
know what I mean. That might be a problem considerin'...
{First thing that springs to mind is a folktale featuring ogres...}
Well, let me put it this way. If I'm lucky, they won't mind
someone wandering by *just* for lunch. And if I'm even *more*
lucky, they'll be the kind of establishment that's used to
catering to a more ... diverse clientele. And then there's the
other problem. Assuming that legally I have any identity at all,
which is actually pretty doubtful, until I figure out how to get
some kind of convincing picture id, it's gonna be pretty tough to
ID,
convince *anybody* that I really am over twenty-one. I mean, I
ain't exactly a debutante, but even after all this time,
<*piku* again. I wonder how long?}
I don't
look a day over fifteen and three quarters. Damn spring. Not
bad enough I get an involuntary sex change barely outta the
puberty gate, I also apparently get to look like I belong in the
cast of Sailor Moon for the rest of my life. Ain't that swell?
{That's one word for it. :) }
Anyway, my suspicions are more or less confirmed when I get
close enough to see the sign above the entrance. 'Sexy Kunoichi
Tea Shop' in cheesy neon.
{It IS Konatsu! Well, probably. :) Hmm, he'd be a bit older, just like
Ranma... I surmise that the point of divergence of this tale is before
v35 of the manga, then. Wonder what went wrong...}
Still... I mean, putting aside the
whole 'I'm really tired of foraging and want a meal' thing, the
real honest truth is that the thought of getting a look at some
nice kunoichi ... staff is not entirely without appeal. I mean,
I'm not secure enough in my bloody sexuality or whatever you want
to call it to go searching for a girlfriend or anything, but
frankly, I get something out of just looking sometimes if ya
sometimes, if
really wanna know.
Well, it's worth a shot, right? If it don't work out, I can
always point myself towards town for a few supplies instead. I
square my shoulders and head towards the entrance.
{Rats. What a place to stop. :) }
****************************
Any comments and questions are really really welcome. This is very
different from any story I've written in the past so I'm very interested in
finding out what people think. :)
I think I want you to write more of this. No, I'm sure I want you to
write more of this. :) What most appeals to me about it is the way the
voice rings so true: it's Ranma, battered a bit by life, somewhat
embittered, but still optimistic underneath.
Another thing is the polished economy of the text, the way words are
laden with a freight of meaning; some of that comes from context, of
course, but it's still an amazing amount of story packed into a mere 15K.
I usually try to snip more when sending C&C, but it hurt to snip... sorry. :)
Thanks for reading!
Thanks for writing and sharing!
Vince Seifert Fanfic Analyst FFIRC Frog
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Ideas are worth their weight in gold.