The Obligatory Authors Notes:
If you're wondering where Part 1 is, don't worry. It was released a
while back under the subject line of:
[FFML][Songfic?][Ranma] Hmm... blame Jed for this one :)
So it's perfectly clear that this is the next part, as you can see.
No, actually, what it is, is that I hadn't planned on making this a
series (of sorts). But these stories almost write themselves, and Jed
(that's Jed Bidwell, sorry) keeps coming up with great songs to write to (as
well as some great writing for them - hell, he wrote most of this one),
so... well, you get the idea. :)
I'll be updating my website tomorrow with part one (along with a BUNCH
of other stuff, for you slavering authors out there), so you can find it
there then. If you want it sooner, email me and I'll send it to ya. :)
Let us know what you think! All C&C is VERY appreciated.
Brian Payne
sofaspud@sofaspud.org
http://www.sofaspud.org
Disclaimers follow the fic.
--------------------------
Two Parts of One
Part Two
Noise.
Light.
Heat.
All three were in abundance tonight. The night sky was invisible
against the floodlights bathing the coliseum in their harsh white glow.
Soon enough, they would dim, and the only lights would be those on the
stage.
Outside the coliseum crowds waited impatiently. Their voices lifted
high above the coliseum itself, drowning the surrounding city in a sea of
sound, an almost-visible presence that made ordinary speech impossible. The
long lines snaking through the turnstiles edged forward slowly, with
flustered clerks checking tickets as quickly as they could. The neon glow
of the marquee highlighted the people in line, glinting off their clothing
and faces randomly.
"Two Parts of One - TONIGHT!" read the marquee. As people watched, it
flashed in eye-dazzling patterns. The letters chased themselves around the
board frantically, then settled down, and the line edged forward again.
Akane whirled through another complex pattern, eyes closed, hair flying.
Strike, strike, spin, throw... the movements of her art were second nature
to her, and she reveled in their power.
She finished the routine and straightened, panting with the exertion.
Her eyes remained closed as she savored the rush. That time, it had been
perfect. No mistakes. Next time, she'd make it even better... faster...
stronger...
"Practicin' again, Akane?"
With a startled yelp, Akane dropped her sticks and jumped. Her chair
skittered away across the floor, and she nearly landed on her rump before
she caught her balance. "Dammit, Ranma! Why do you always sneak up on me
like that?" she scolded. Her sticks clattered against the tile floor,
adding a sharp counterpoint to her voice. One rolled to the doorway where
Ranma slouched, and he backed up as it spun towards his foot.
"You're fun to tease," he replied, smirking.
"Says you," Akane shot back, retrieving her practice sticks. She tucked
them into her belt, then eyed Ranma questioningly. "What do you want?"
Ukyo Kuonji was frustrated. No, beyond frustrated. She was edging
closer to Truly Pissed Off with every passing second. And it was all the
fault of that damn Ranma!
"He didn't even look at it," she groused to herself as she stomped down
the corridor. Her head was swinging left and right constantly as she
scanned her surroundings for the object of her anger. The backstage crew
wisely got out of her way, some staring after her with various looks -
amusement, hostility, or just plain apathy.
Ukyo didn't care. She didn't even notice their interest, and wouldn't
have cared if she had. She was tired, she was grumpy, and that damn Ranma
was nowhere to be found. "I spent a whole goddamn week on that arrangement,
and he didn't even look at it!"
Almost snarling now -- how dare he hide from her! -- she flung open the
door to the dressing room hallway and abruptly stopped short.
She rubbed her eyes.
Ok, her eyes were clear. So the scene she saw in front of her was, in
fact, what she was actually seeing.
No way.
I must be more tired than I thought, she thought dazedly. No way in
hell did I just see Ranchan kissing Akane. I think I'll go take a nap.
"I... I'll just go now," she murmured, stepping back and letting the
door swing closed behind her.
"What do you want?"
Ranma looked at the dark-haired drummer in front of him. Eyeing the
door to the backstage corridor, he edged a bit closer to her. The timing
would be tight... Ukyo couldn't be that far away - after all, she knew that
there weren't that many places he could hide and still make the performance.
And she damn well knew he wouldn't miss the performance.
"Well, I, um..." Dammit. He could sing in front of a crowd of
thousands, but couldn't form a simple sentence for the life of him, now.
Akane cocked her head at him. "Yes?"
"I... ah..." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the top of Ukyo's
head in the small inset window in the backstage door. No time!
Frantically, he lunged forward, sweeping Akane up in an embrace and ardently
kissing her, just as the door swung open.
Akane sat in her dressing room, idly tapping a drumstick against the
makeup counter in front of her chair. Her thoughts were swirling
inchoately, and Ranma featured prominently in most of them.
Tap, tap, tappity tap.
On the one hand, she wanted to kill him. No, that would be too easy.
She wanted to skin him and use it for her drums, THEN kill him.
Tap, tappity tap, tap tap.
On the other, she wanted him to kiss her again.
Tap, tap, tappity tap tap tap.
"Miss Tendo? Five minutes," came the call from outside her door.
"Thank you," she answered automatically, then resumed her tapping.
Maybe if she pretended it hadn't happened...? But would he take that as
an indication of her interest, or disinterest?
And which was it?
Mousse and Ryoga were idly chatting when a whirlwind vaguely resembling
Ranma Saotome blew by.
"Hi guys how's it hangin' great gotta go bye!" And he was gone, out of
sight around the corner towards his dressing room. A startled yelp rang
out, then a stagehand stumbled around the corner, spinning in place for a
moment before catching his balance.
"Watch where you're going!" he yelled, shaking a fist.
"What," Mousse asked, straightening his robes, "was that?"
"I dunno, Mousse," Ryoga answered, shrugging. "I just hope he cleans it
up quick. We're on in two."
Ranma took the stage, the heat of the floodlights baking him in their
harsh glare. The roar of the crowds rose and fell like a sonic tide,
chanting the names of their favorite members. A few even held up posters,
though the blinding lights hid the details.
He cradled the red Fender in his hands, fingers at the ready. Ranma
didn't have to turn to see the others bring their instruments to bear.
Ryoga would have his enormous obsidian bass ready, with Mousse holding his
backup guitar and preparing to shed his long white robe. The girls went
absolutely nuts over that...
Speaking of girls going absolutely nuts... he snuck a peek over his
shoulder and spotted Akane. She was looking at him with an unreadable
expression on her face. Ranma took that for anger, and shuddered. He was
in trouble.
Resolutely, he put all thoughts of everything else out of his mind.
There was no room for anything but the performance, the music that would
come pouring out of his band to the screaming masses below.
Ranma stuck his left hand down, three fingers pointing to the floor,
then two, then one... SHOWTIME!
The song began with Ranma's guitar ringing out into the stadium, the
amps blasting it over the sea of noise from the audience. His fingers deftly
pressed on the strings, his right hand picking out the lonely melody. A few
seconds in, Mousse strummed out a chord that signalled Akane's entrance. The
short-haired girl began tapping out a quick rhythm on her drumset, the
snares providing the cadence while re-enforcing the melody. The crowd began
to go nuts as they recognized one of Two Parts of One's most famous new
songs.
I took a walk around the world
to ease my troubled mind
I left my body lying somewhere
In the sands of time
Well I watched the world
Float to the dark side of the moon
I feel there's nothing I can do...
Yeah...
Ryoga and Mousse joined in, sending the music surging forward as the
pace jumped with the song. A deluge of delighted screams assaulted the stage
as the Chinese man's white robe fluttered to the edge of the stage. That
always was a crowd pleaser...
I watched the world float to
the dark side of the moon
After all I knew it had to be
Something to do with you
I really don't mind
What happens now and then
As long as you'll be my friend
At the end!
Ranma lost himself in the music as the chorus burst from his lips. The
sound seemed to envelop him with a life all its own as it shattered the air
around him, carrying him forward like a sonic train into the stratosphere.
If I go crazy then
Will you still call me Superman
If I'm alive well
Will you still be there holdin my hand
I'll keep you by my side
With my superhuman might
Kryptonite...
The sound faded slightly as Ranma brought himself out of the euphoria of
performance long enough to begin the next verse. He was in the zone; the
crowds, the lights, the heat, none of that mattered while he was onstage.
The band behind him, Akane, Ryoga, and Mousse, they all functioned as one
while in the grip of the awesome force of music.
You call me strong
You call me weak
But still your secrets
I will keep
You took for granted
All the times I never let you down
You stumbled in
And bumped your head
If not for me you'd be dead
I picked you up,
Put you back on solid ground!
Ranma felt the music as an almost-physical force slamming into his back
as the song picked up again for the next chorus. He ignored the sweat
pouring off his brow to soak the red blouse that was his stage trademark.
If I go crazy then
Will you still call me Superman?
If I'm alive then
Will you be there holdin' my hand?
I'll keep you by my side with my
Superhuman might!
Kryptonite...
The song continued to charge forward, its infectious energy filling both
him and the raving crowd before dying down to just him and Akane. He had to
admire that girl's brute strength for keeping up the frantic pace of the
drums for so long. He'd put her up against Lars Ulrich any day of the week,
though he would never admit it. Ranma shut his eyes, feeling the blood
scream through his veins as he began the chorus again. It would pick back
up for the finish soon enough.
If I go crazy then
Will you still call me Superman?
If I'm alive then
Will you be there... holdin my hand
I'll keep you by my side with
My superhuman... might
Kryptonite... YEEEAAAHHH!!!
If I go crazy then
Will you still call me Superman?!
If I'm alive then
Will you be there a-holdin' my hand?!
I'll keep you by my side
With my superhuman might!
Kryptonite!
Ryoga's bass provided a nearly subliminal chord beneath Mousse's rhythm
licks and Akane's hammering cadence as Ranma carried the song home. The
screaming fans assaulted his ears, even above the thundering music, some
even singing along with him as the band drew it to a close.
Whoa...oo..Whoa....
Whoa...oo...Whoa...
Whoa...oo...Whoa..
The final note rang out into the stadium, the final remnants of the song
already fading into memory as the cheering grew by leaps and bounds.
Ranma stood in the limelight, feeling pleasantly drained as the high
began to wane. He silently thanked his backup as chants of "Encore!" reached
his ears.
The thought that his band, Two Parts of One, was the first all-Asian
band to score big in the United States only made his resolve stronger.
Grinning like a maniac, Ranma signaled his band, and they swung into the
next piece.
-------------------------
Disclaimer:
Ranma 1/2 is the property of Rumiko Takahashi and others. No
infringement is intended or should be inferred.
"Kryptonite" is the property of Three Doors Down. No infringement is
intended or should be inferred.