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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Ecartis --
-- File: ffmlwcitbs01.txt
-- Desc: ffmlwcitbs01.txt
White Clouds in the Blue Sky
Ranma 1/2 and its characters are the creation and
property of Rumiko Takahashi.
***
There had been dreams in the night, Ranma was sure. The
whispering had been trying to be heard, through the
dreams, or above the dreams.
He stared at the floor of his room. He was sitting on
the edge of his bed, having just woken up. He had
shivered while sleeping, which is why he had wakened.
A single, lone gasp because he had heard the whisper for
just a second, but why?
Why did he gasp in his sleep from a dream about a
whisper?
It was dark. He had never felt it for a long time since
his childhood, but there was a fear of the dark now in
his chest. It was painful. He wasn't supposed to be
afraid, because he was supposed to be a man. He had that
from before still, at least. Be a man. Don't be afraid.
When it was night though, it felt cold.
His fingers traced the scar on his chest. He felt it
through his fingertips, but not through the skin on his
chest.
He knew the second beast lived in the scar. It
slumbered, even though it didn't want to.
It was a cold beast. It felt nothing.
Whenever he felt strongly, the beast wanted to wake, and
devour him whole.
He wanted it to, but he couldn't let it, for someone had
said to him once, and he listened to her, "Don't die."
He couldn't die.
Ever.
***
Chapter One - Whispers
Missus Uremeshi knocked on his door to wake him up, but
he was already awake. He didn't sleep at all through the
night.
He sat up. It was time to eat, Missus Uremeshi had said
through the door.
He was then in the kitchen, sitting at the table with
Missus Uremeshi. She mentioned something about the
mister leaving for work early in the morning, so that's
why he wasn't with them.
The food was good, but Ranma felt he couldn't truly
taste it.
Taste had left him, along with so many warm things. He
couldn't be sure of everything he had lost. It was all
dust, covering and hiding everything under a shallow
layer.
He didn't mind though. It was better to lose everything
warm to the dusty wasteland than to the second beast.
The second beast would devour everything, leaving
nothing.
But the dust, even though he would never again feel
warm, his important things would be preserved, in a
manner. That way, he might be able to hear the whisper
too. To let the second beast have its way was to lose
the whisper. He couldn't lose it.
Missus Uremeshi asked him a question. He looked at her,
feeling confused.
"Ranma, are you okay?" she asked. Her face was cover in
concern. She reached out for his hand, but he withdrew
it suddenly.
"Yeah, I'm alright," he said, weakly, but trying to
sound strong.
She reached, and Ranma withdrew his hand away even
deeper into himself, but Missus Uremeshi instead grabbed
his empty soup and rice bowls. She looked as though she
wanted to say something, but felt Ranma didn't want to
hear what she had to say.
He did and didn't. He hated where he was, but felt
afraid at wherever he might go.
He didn't want to lose, so he kept his hand close to
him. He looked from Missus Uremeshi's eyes down to the
table, shame running through the whole of his body.
Instinctively, his fingers ran along the scar.
And he could feel the first beast waking up, and it was
already laughing, its mocking tone shaking the whole of
his spine.
The fucking coward! He wanted to come out! Right now!
The little boy! The coward who hated the first beast.
Ranma felt cold, through and through. He was shivering.
Standing up, suddenly, he turned away from Missus
Uremeshi, and walked out of the kitchen. She wouldn't
see the coward. Only the coward cried, and remembered,
and allowed the second beast to feast on all that was
warm.
In the backyard, his face soon dry, after some time
alone, Ranma looked at his sleeve, which was wet. He
couldn't leave until it was dry.
It was time to leave for school, he had heard Missus
Uremeshi say behind him. She packed a lunch for him,
which she hoped he'd eat this time, she mentioned.
The grass and garden were very green and colourful,
Ranma noticed, before leaving the yard to the house. And
the sky, its depth was still surprising. But he was
grey. He was losing his warm colours, and he wanted to,
but the whispering pleaded for him not to, so he had to
fight for them.
He couldn't hear the whispers, but he decided he
understood its message.
He left the house, his lunch and books in hand.
There was a feeling in his head though, as he was
walking to school.
It led his eyes from the ground towards a young man
leaning against the school gate.
Dry blood covered half the young man's head, and it had
dripped onto his shoulder, and then down both his front
and back.
He was kindly smiling at Ranma, who had decided to
ignore him by not looking at him.
"I sense you've decided something Ranma," said young
man. "That's good. I was getting worried that you'd just
give up."
Ranma stood for a moment in front of the young man, so
he could whisper, "Why don't you stay dead?"
"I have to pay you back, Ranma," said the young man. "I
owe you that much at least."
"Your glasses are bent," said Ranma, quietly. "And
you're all bloody."
"That's you who sees me like this," said the young man.
"It's because that's how you last saw me."
Ranma looked down at the ground again. "I don't want to
be helped." He just wanted to float.
The bloody young man faded away, and with it, so did the
sense Ranma had of knowing who the young man had been.
Who had that been? It was somebody who showed up before
it happened, Ranma was sure. He had known the guy's name
before too.
To float. That's what the second beast promised him,
when it was awake.
It would be eternal peace, being caressed by the waves
of peace. It was the feeling assured to him if he dared
allow the cold from his scar to awaken into the second
beast and then devour him, body and mind.
***
Spinning. His head wasn't feeling right, as though he
was looking down the side of a tall building all the way
to the bottom where people were so distant, seeming like
ants.
"Ranma," quietly said the girl from the day before. "The
teacher's looking at you."
"So?" said Ranma, after a moment. The teacher could do
all he wanted.
The time creature had settled atop his head, and was
pressing a great deal of its weight down onto Ranma.
The first beast, the time creature, and the second
beast. None truly existed but in his soul. They weren't
real, just like him.
There was the coward too though. He hated the coward,
who wandered through the mind, as though trying to live
in the dusty wasteland. All the coward did was cry from
sorrow and scream from rage, loudly and constantly. But
only the coward was still real.
He should've been staring ahead, but the weight of the
time creature was too great, so he stared at his desk.
"Ranma, he's coming this way," said the girl.
Ranma looked up to see the teacher staring down at him.
"So, Saotome. Are you here or not?"
Ranma shrugged. "Whatever," he said. Whatever was a good
word, as it had neither friendship nor hate contained
within it. It was an empty word, and suited the moment,
he felt. It matched himself, too.
Even standing outside the class, two buckets held in his
hands, it suited him. 'Whatever,' he thought.
Empty.
What exactly was he supposed to do now?
All that mattered were the words he couldn't hear, so he
didn't have to be at school, around people who were
alive.
He was too out of place, so he didn't belong. Not
anywhere. Not at the Uremeshi's. Only in the cold earth.
Cold earth. The words were suddenly a trigger, reminding
him of the pain in his head, which flashed for a brief
from the back of his eyes as though alive.
It was terrible agony, and he couldn't think, but only
scream.
***
Dying. Only enough strength to keep one eye open, and
even though he could see, he wasn't sure what it was
that was in front of him. It was too dark, and scarlet
dominated all the other colours.
The strength in his hand was fading. It was holding
something else, which was warm, and which squeezed
tightly.
Somebody's hand, he realised. Somebody whose lap his
head was resting upon. And this person was whispering,
ever so gently, so softly.
***
"Ranma," said the young man, whose head was bloody.
"Ranma, come back."
Opening his eyes, Ranma looked at the young man. He saw
he was in what was in the sick room, which had its
lights turned off.
"Thank goodness," said the young man. "I was really
worried there for a moment." He half smiled.
"I don't remember you," said Ranma, tiredly.
"You don't really remember anything," said the young
man. "But that's how it is, for now."
"I know you're dead though," said Ranma.
The young man said nothing.
A door opened, letting light into the dark room. It was
the girl who sat beside him. "You're awake!" She sighed.
"You scared us all! The teacher ended up bringing you
here." She then said, "Your parents are coming to get
you."
'No, they're not,' thought Ranma, sadly. He looked back
at the young man, who was smirking at him. "What's your
name?" he quietly asked.
"My name?" The girl stammered for a second, in the
background, as Ranma wasn't really listening to her,
"Um, it's Rei."
However the young man, whom Ranma had been asking,
didn't reply, but only continued to smirk as though
enjoying what he was watching.
Looking at Rei, really for the first time, Ranma noticed
her long hair, which reminded him of a certain day in a
different time, oh so very long ago. Before it all
happened. When the other life had truly started.
"Be careful, Ranma," said the young man, his face
suddenly covered in concern. "Don't go back there."
Heeding the words, Ranma quickly redirected his thoughts
to the young man.
The thoughts of the other time, he noticed, seemed to
make the scar grow even colder, which Ranma felt was the
second beast feeding.
No, he couldn't let that happen.
"How come you're here?" he asked the young man.
"I was given the chance to help you," replied the young
man, at the same time Rei said, totally flustered, "Ah,
I just wanted to, um, see how you were doing!"
At the end of her words, the young man started to laugh.
"You've got a fan, Ranma! Already!" He looked at the
girl. "She must be very kind, to worry about the new
weird kid from that place." He had emphasized the words
'that place', and then gave a sigh. "Anyhow, I'm not
allowed to tell you my name, Ranma. It's a rule. You
need to remember on your own, if you choose to want to."
He barked out a laugh. "God, do I ever hate mysteries."
He then faded away, leaving Ranma alone with the girl.
He also left some words for Ranma, before totally
disappearing, "It won't be easy, Ranma. If you go
through with it, I mean. It'll hurt, every step. More
an' more."
Somehow though, even when the boy was in the room, Ranma
already had felt alone with the girl, whose name was
Rei.
"Um, maybe I'm bothering you?" said the girl, who seemed
to expect no response from Ranma.
The darkness of the room before was changing, Ranma
noticed. Before, there had seemed to be something in it,
making it worth bearing. But now, whatever it had been
in the room, it was withdrawing. And what was taking its
place was a feeling like hot cooking oil spreading over
the bottom of a frying pan.
It was in his mind, this feeling. And with the creeping
of this sensation through his mentality did the first
beast roar with delight, as though preparing for the
fear to begin to emerge from the coward, who shivered in
the darkness from the cold and nightmares.
"No," said Ranma, to himself and to Rei.
"No," he said again, but now only to Rei.
He again said no, and not to anyone but perhaps the
world, because there seemed to be some comfort in it.
Where though, he didn't know. But, he was supposed to
find it, because there, he would hear the whispering.
Rei warmly but shyly smiled at Ranma, and then bowed,
saying a parting.
And, following a path towards the comfort, Ranma felt
pressed to say, before she left the room, "Thank you."
Yet, whatever comfort there was, it wasn't enough.
Rei had left the room, so now it left him alone.
The scar on his chest slowly grew cold, spreading
through his whole body, right to his bones.
And then, he shivered, having returned to where he
belonged from the brief moment of being where he could
never again be.
He closed his eyes, wondering if the first beast were
real, then would it be laughing manically?
***
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