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Paraisthisiphobia - the fear of having a waking dream, or of
waking up in a world that's slightly different.

A Ranma 1/2 Fanfiction
by SeventhOne

***

[Start Section 01]

***

Somewhere, there was a sense of longing, of something missing,
and there were eyes, four pairs, and maybe more. They belonged
to beings who had long abandoned their humanity for existences
far more significant, and theirs was the control of Inevitability
and Fate, the Laws of Causation.

They were looking, in a sense, at something that shouldn't have
happened. There was a corpse of a young man, sitting next to a
tree and holding an enormously long sword. He was, as corpses
tended to go, dead. The four weren't happy about it. Not at all.

"He was to be the one who would die for the Fifth," said one in a
voice that was not a voice.

"I know," said another.

"The Law requires it, but he has died before his time. It should
not be this way."

"He was an anomaly, for I foresaw that he would have become
the Survivor," said the tall one.

"That is ludicrous, for Survivors cannot exist," said a voice,
vaguely female. "And it matters not, for he is dead. When have
we cared for the lives and deaths of these mortals?"

"When the Laws of Causation requires us to. He should not have
died."

"Our nature binds us from bringing him back from the Realm of
Death, for that is not our jurisdiction. It was part of the
Agreement that we would not interfere with the Seven."

"What," asked the female, "should we do, then?"

"We replace him."

"With who?"

"One we will take from a place we do not exist."

"I see," said the female.

"So be it then," said the tall one. "The Fifth awaits."

And the eyes closed.

***

"Orchids," whispered a girl.

The boy opened his eyes slowly, and stared at the ceiling in the
relative silence of the room. There was the snoring of his father
in the futon next to his own, but it was softer than usual. In
peace, he closed his eyes again and whispered the word: orchids.
He repeated it, hoping that by doing so, the waking world would
not rob him of his dream.

He'd had many, lately. Some were nightmares, and others were
lives he wished he could have lived. The most recent one had
involved a female version of himself coming to visit from an
alternate world . . .

"Orchids," he said, louder, talking to the room.

Most likely, calling her name wouldn't magically transport her
here, but he felt it was worth a try. Sometimes it worked in the
dreams, and he had to remind himself that this was real life. In
real life, strange things happened, but never so strange as to defy
imagination.

He stared at the circular tubing of the lights for a moment longer,
and then at his raised hand. Yes, he thought, strange things
happened.

The boy hated his dreams in general, even the nice ones. They
were always about himself, and he was always in a familiar
setting or living with familiar faces. There was always a
difference, major or minor, and the things he confronted were
always different, but somewhat similar to what he'd really faced.
He hated them because they were always so . . . satisfying.

Real life was never like that.

Sure, he had some moves that were more powerful than the
things he saw in the dreams. The dreams, though, had him doing
things he just couldn't imagine himself doing. Upon waking, he
forgot how to do them. Perhaps it was because he'd never known
how to do them in the first place. He wished he did. He wished
he could do all of those things . . .

He sat up.

"Damn. Don't know why I even bother."

***

Eyes searched, for they were everywhere, all the time. They
saw, and they sought, but those found were required where they
were by Causation. Fruitless searchings finally brought the eyes
to a bedroom in a place called Tokyo, and they drew the
attention of the four.

They manifested around the boy, who remained unaware of their
presence.

"Him?" asked one.

"But he is the very opposite of what we are," said the female.

"It matters not," said the tall one, "for uncertainty is specific to
that which exists immediately around him and not tightly bound
to other chains of Inevitability. The existence of a vortex of
Causation cannot interfere with the coming of the Fifth."

"But what of after the Fifth's rebirth?"

"Destroy him, for he is not a threat."

"Is he suitable?"

"In a place where he is different, he will be the same as the
Survivor was meant to be."

"You remember, though, that in creating contracts with mortals
not fated become one of ours, we must have their full and
absolute agreement."

"That is noted. We shall have his."

"The Skull will not contact him, then?"

"Don't refer to him," said the tall one. "He is insignificant, and
he has no power."

"His presence is disruptive, though. What have you come up
with to correct this, brother?"

"The twins have been awoken from their slumber, and the
mortal known as the Eater of Metal has been revived from
dormancy. Their tragedies have begun to play out."

"Then it is done."

"Are we agreed, then?"

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Yes."

"He shall go."

And the figures vanished, leaving a final word.

"Dream."

***

There was a tweaking of events in the past, and changes of
motive and action. These made no noticeable differences in the
present, at least on the surface. In the depths of the hearts of the
people surrounding the boy, however, secrets came into
existence that weren't there before . . .

***

In a village near Edo, a boy was raped by his elder sister, and a
child was conceived. Unable to accept the treatment given to
him by his family as a result of this, the boy left to live his life
elsewhere. The child was born and raised respectably, despite its
beginnings . . .

***

On a mountain in Japan, a voice told an old man to teach his
students of his ultimate technique. Thinking the voice to be that
of the kami in his drunken stupor, the old man smiled and
agreed. In the distance, two boys laughed . . .

***

A large boulder was placed before the fallen ruins of a cave
mouth in the middle of the Himalayas, blocking it from any
possible entrance or exit. In the cave, eyes cried tears of the pain
of betrayal until they could cry no more . . .

***

In the place known as Jusenkyo, a new spring appeared, and
someone was cursed almost immediately after. There was a
smile where there shouldn't have been one, and a promise of
secret revenge . . .

***

A young girl disappeared briefly while traveling through the
Qing-hai with her parents. When she returned, days later, she
was without memory, and possessed of a radically different
personality. For some reason, she appeared to have a fear of hot
water . . .

***

At a wedding in Minato-ku, a bride smiled a smile of no good
intention, but noticed by none. The relatives commented on how
well she seemed to know her husband's habits, despite having
been strangers with him until the engagement . . .

***

In a room in the area known as Nerima-ku, a man shared his
wife with his best friend in an act of sex, and forced his eldest
daughter, then three, to watch. The wife was pregnant shortly
after, and died in childbirth months later. The newborn survived.
Years passed, and the father trained the eldest to be in every way
a replacement for his beloved wife . . .

***

In an empty lot somewhere in Japan, tears welled out of a boy's
eyes as a fat man took his virginity from behind. In a tent across
the street, another boy slept soundly, oblivious of the acts of his
father . . .

***

It had begun with purpose, but it was for lust that she submitted
her purity to the ancient old man. The everyday dealings of her
restaurant forgotten, she tried not to remember who it was she
was sleeping with . . .

***

On a bench in the park, a young girl spoke to her best friend at
length about her fiancé, and how he'd proven his love for her
over and over, and how he was such an baka, and . . . and how
she couldn't find it within her heart to love anyone but the person
she was talking to. There was a kiss, and a touch, and something
began. When they left the park, they would never be the same
again . . .

***

Four figures saw . . .

[In a room in the area known as Nerima-ku . . . ]

Breakfast was completed without incident. Oblivious of the
behavior of the unnaturally subdued household, the boy went
about on his normal routine without interruption. He entirely
failed to notice the tired faces of his father and his host, and he
didn't see the preoccupied expressions of his fiancé and her
sisters.

The boy left for school, without the slightest inkling of the
changes in his past.

Four figures smiled as the boy passed a soothsayer on the way to
his destination, only to be stopped by the promise of wishes. His
fiancé, who would've normally urged him onwards, stood silent,
looking absently at the wall as if in thought. There was a brief
exchange, and when it ended, the boy held a medallion
containing the reality of his dreams. The soothsayer vanished
into shadows as the boy turned away, medallion pocketed.

On top of the building, four manifested.

"The contract has been created," said one of the four.

"How long before he signs it?" asked the female.

"He will do so only in his darkest hour," said the tall one, "for
such is foreordained in accordance with the qualities by which
Inevitability has selected him."

"The eldest of the Seven has dominion here. He has no words
against our dealings?"

"He cannot have any, for like the Three, we are an aspect of him,
as is Idea," said the tall one.

"We have, in addition, worked only within the limitations of the
contract we set up. We've done nothing wrong. The lesser ones
complete such contracts all the time."

"Then so it shall be."

***

[On a bench in the park . . . ]

>From the classroom window, the boy watched as his fiancé left
school grounds with her friends. She'd been doing that quite a lot
in the past few weeks, he noted. None of his business, of course,
but he did have a right to at least note of her activities. She was,
despite what many claimed, his fiancé, and he did care.

He wasn't following her because she'd told him not to follow
beforehand, and because he'd chosen to do as she said.
Apparently, her friends found his presence imposing and didn't
want him around wherever they were going. He wasn't willing
to sacrifice his hard-earned status as a "respectable male" for
something as silly as tailing his fiancé while she did her
shopping. Months of self-restraint would be put to waste.

Yawning a bit, he eyed the clock. Five more minutes before he
could leave. He'd finished sweeping early, but he figured it
couldn't hurt to wait awhile. He did like the slight bit of
appreciation his friends showed when he walked home with
them.

Glancing at the window once more, he sighed a bit.

"It's so quiet," he thought out loud.

"What is?"

The boy turned.

"Daisuke? Man, I must be losing my touch. Didn't notice you
there."

Daisuke grinned.

"Heh. I must've gained some amazing martial arts skills by
hanging around you."

The boy leaned against the windowsill and let himself relax a
bit.

"Yeah, whatever."

Daisuke took a spot next to the boy and stared up at the ceiling.

"What were you saying just now, Ranma?"

"I was saying that you can't just pick up martial arts by hanging
around people. It's not like the flu, ya' know?"

"Before that," said Daisuke.

"What?"

"You were talking about it being quiet."

"Oh. That. It's nuthin'."

Daisuke waited for the boy to elaborate, but nothing came.

"C'mon. I know you were thinking something," he prompted.

The boy appeared concentrate..

"Well . . . I was just thinking about how everybody I know seems
to go at what they do with less energy than before."

"Eh? What do you mean?"

The boy crossed his arms.

[In a village near Edo . . . ]

"You know, like the old pervert and his panty raids. He used to
be so enthusiastic about getting away and stuff. These days,
though, he doesn't try so hard, and he gets beaten up by those
girls a lot more."

"Ahh."

[It had begun with purpose . . . ]

"And I haven't seen so much of Ukyou lately, except in class."

Daisuke smiled.

"Finally getting the move on, eh Saotome?"

"Getting the move on?"

"You're all red, man."

The boy gave Daisuke the evil eye.

"It's not like that, and you know it."

Daisuke just laughed.

***

There wasn't much to it, really. Just a thin sliver of whiteness in
the dark. A sharp sliver, too, but then, it *was* a knife.

Nabiki held it to her forehead, and pressed down slightly. No
blood.

"Not sharp enough, obviously."

She lowered the blade and stared at the reflection of her eyes.
There was fear, there was hate, and there was despair. She jerked
the knife away from her and squeezed her eyes shut.

"He has to know."

***

Hiroshi and Daisuke parted with the boy at the corner next to the
little police station on San-Chome. He waved at them as they
went on their way, and they waved back before continuing down
the street. The boy watched them go. When they were out of
sight, he slung his bag across a shoulder, and turned idly to walk
in the direction of the Tendo's.

In the twilight, and looking up into the orange western sky past
the silhouettes of the buildings, the boy whistled a song he
remembered from somewhere. For just a moment, he wondered
where it was from. An anime, perhaps? A lullaby? Mentally
sighing, he realized that couldn't tell. Whistling was like too
many of his other habits -- unconscious and uncontrollable,
beyond the knowledge of his conscious mind.

He did enjoy it, though. He found that it was one of the things he
could lose himself in when he wasn't paying attention to what he
was doing . . . Whistling, he walked, letting his feet guide him
and closing his eyes. They took him past the little stores, all
beginning to close for the night, and they took him past the
houses of his classmates, already lit with the warmth of families.

The streetlights flickered on just before the boy pushed open the
wooden gates and stepped into the yard. He found himself
wondering exactly how long he'd spent walking . . .

"Late, are we?" asked Nabiki.

The boy blinked. Nabiki stood next to the front door, as if
waiting for him.

"School got out, what, two hours ago? What've you been up
to?"

The boy walked forward, intending to go into the house without
answering.

"None of them are home," said Nabiki. "You haven't answered
me yet."

The boy stopped just before the door, facing it.

"I was just out walking," he replied.

"Ahh. So you didn't spend half an hour talking to your friends in
that ice cream place, and then an hour whistling as you walked
home?"

The boy opened the door.

"I did," he said.

"You know how long I spent waiting for you?"

"No."

"About forty-five minutes."

"I didn't ask you to wait for me. Why isn't anyone home?"

Nabiki put a hand on her waist.

"I arranged for them to be out. I need to show you something."

***

In the shadows beyond the shadows, the four smiled.

"His darkest hour has begun."

***

Nabiki watched the rain through the hole the boy had made in
her wall. Near the edge of the floor, a distance away from where
she was sitting, a few raindrops fell into the impression of a
footprint in the dark wood.

"He broke it," she repeated to herself. "He broke it."

***

[End Section 01]

***


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