Aftermath:
A Story of Blended Clichés'
Original
One Shot
Juuban Part 0
Juuban Part 1
Juuban Part 2
Juuban Part 3
Juuban Part 4
Juuban Part 5
Juuban Part 6
Juuban Part 7
Juuban Part 8
Juuban Part 9
Juuban Part
10
Juuban Part
11
Juuban Part
12
Juuban Part
13
Juuban Part
14
Juuban Part
15
Juuban Part
16
Side Story:
Government Actions
Side
Story: Recruiting
University Part 1
University Part 2
University Part 3
University Part 4
University Part 5
University Part 6
University Part 7
University Part 8
University Part 9
University Part 10
University Part 11
University Part 12
University Part 13
University Part 14
and epilogue
Side Story: Girl Talk
Index |
Author needs help.
I am starting on this as a back story to
“Aftermath”(which was intended
as a one-shot) and I need some help with the Sailor Moon characters. I
have a general idea of the characters but no details.
I now have a fairly good outline written down on what direction I want
to take this story.
Once again all characters, situations and the Town Lake Bridge are not
mine. However, I had to rent the grammar and spelling errors this time.
____________________________________________
Juuban - part 0
An empty street.
It was night. It was raining. She was alone.
Still she walked on.
She was wet, depressed, angry and she was alone. Truly alone for the
first time in her life. Oh, she had been alone before - training trips
and whatever - but always secure in the knowledge that somebody would
be waiting for her at the end of the trip or adventure she got caught
up in.
She walked on, water spashing with each step.
Dark thoughts of her father -no, her ex-father - filtered into her
brain, the cold words that he had said still in her ears, the
disappointment that was etched upon his face and the anger in his eyes.
Damn him! She couldn’t even go to her mother, thanks to that
stupid
pledge. She thought about it though, going to her mother and confessing
everything, maybe death would be a release from this hell of her
so-called life. But she wasn’t ready to give up yet, she
always said
Ranma Sao- no, can’t say Saotome anymore, from now on its
Ranma, just
Ranma, and Ranma never loses, or in this case never gives up.
She walked on, with water filled shoes squishing.
Pop’s - no, - Genma trying to force Ranma into marrying Soun
to fulfill
the pact to join the schools and then disowning her in front of the
Tendo’s after she refused - wasn’t the worst of it.
She could deal with
those thoughts, after all it was just Genma and he was an idiot. A
dishonorable idiot at that.
She walked faster.
It was the memory of the reaction, or lack there of, that the
Tendo’s had that cut more deeply than anything:
Akane’s stunned look,
Nabiki’s cool indifference, Kasumi’s look of frozen
horror and Soun’s
crying about the future of his dojo. Not one of them lifting a finger
to help her or stopping Genma from doing what he did. They just stood
there, watching, letting her suffering increase tenfold and not one of
them coming forward to aid her or saying what was going on was wrong.
“You are no longer my child.”
She quickened her step at the memory of the words her father spoke.
“You are a stranger to me.”
She splashed through puddles, blindly, not heeding anything that might
be in her way.
“If you refused to uphold the family honor, then maybe you
should
go whore yourself like the honorless girl you now are.”
Tears now mingled with the rain that was flowing freely down her face,
so blinded was she that she didn’t see the street lamp until
she
collided with it sending her sprawling onto the wet pavement. She laid
there in the rain, weeping for all that she had lost - realizing she
never truly possessed what she thought.
They were like family.... but,
No one helped her. No one spoke for her. No one cared about her.
No one loved her.
Pushing herself into a sitting position, looking skyward she silently
cursed the rain that spattered on her face, matting her red hair where
it fell and stinging her eyes. The water coursing down her form,
soaking her, leaving her and as cold and miserable on the outside as
she felt on the inside. Maybe this was hell.
Maybe she should go to her mother.
No! She shook her head. No, she would not do that. She was stronger
than that. If they wouldn’t help her in her hour of need, in
spite of
the countless times she had helped them, than they were not worth being
with. They were the one’s without honor. They were the
one’s that did
nothing but use her for their own advantage without any regard for her
feelings or her dignity. They were the one’s who discarded
her like
some object or thing that has outlived it’s usefulness and
didn’t want
to be troubled with it anymore.
She was better off without them. She was better than them. She will
survive.
She had to believe she would.
She stood with that last thought, leaning against the lamp post and let
out a heavy sigh while wiping the remaining tears and rain from her
eyes. Readjusting the straps of her pack, she then wandered aimlessly
without any destination in mind or anyplace to go. Walking was all she
could do - walking was the only thing she could do.
So...
She walked on.
Trying to walk the pain that was in her heart out.
*********************************
Scenes from her life
>BANG<
Ranma jerked with a start from her sleep.
>RUMBLE, RUMBLE, RUMBLE<
[Damn! Every morning. I wish that damn
truck would take a different damn
route.] Ranma groused to herself as she unfolded herself from the space
beneath the bridge. Carefully stretching her stiff muscles she
shouldered her pack and made her way down the embankment toward the
river, carefully stepping over or around the other homeless residents
of the bridge that were still sleeping.
[Funny, I never used to notice people like this - until I became one of
them. Now they seem to be everywhere.] she thought to herself as she
stepped around a man sleeping on some cardboard, hugging a garbage bag
of his meager posessions as his slept. Long not noticing the smell
anymore she continued on her trek, [I wonder what they do in the winter
- I wonder what I’ll do in the winter.]
While it was true that Ranma spent a great deal of time on the road
with her father, traveling in hot or cold weather, they would usually
find a shrine or dojo to hold up in during the coldest months of the
year. Being only 16 and with no family, Ranma was finding it impossible
to find a job much less having any money for a place to stay.
“You’re
too young - go find someplace else to work!” they would say
or some
such nonsense. Yeah, right. Ranma was unsure as to what to do, but she
knew she would think of something. [Maybe I can find a dojo to take me
in.]
Upon reaching the water she set her pack beside her and removed a
plastic cup that she had found a few days ago and proceeded to rinse
the “night sweats’ off her clothed body. She felt
awaken and refreshed
as the cold water cascaded down her face and arms even as she shivered
at its touch. Using her hands to squeegee the excess water off of her,
she stood and stretched again. Reshouldering her pack, she gave a last
look at her “home” and climbed the embankment to
the street.
[Time to do some “grocery shopping”.] Her stomach
agreed with a rumble.
****************
It smelled bad; very, very bad.
Ranma knew she had to endure if she was going to eat.
Digging around looking for something that wasn’t too gross
looking she
rattled around in the dumpster in the alley behind an eatery. Finding a
half eaten sandwich, wrapped in the paper that it was served in was a
prize in itself. After brushing off some tea leaves, [when was the last
time I had tea?] she placed the valuable food into her
“grocery bag”, a
discarded green plastic bag she scrounged up, she proceeded to dig some
more until she found enough edible trash for breakfast.
Making her way to a nearby park, she instinctively hid as she spied a
uniformed man patrolling the street. The local truancy officer had been
making a real pest of himself the last few days and Ranma was in no
mood to deal with him. Just her luck, ending up in a part of Tokyo that
took education more seriously than where she came from. After she was
sure he was gone, she entered the park and selected from one of the
many empty benches. After settling into her seat she removed her pack,
she then opened her shopping bag, and then feasted.
Looking around for the first time today she noticed that the sky was
smoky and overcast, a leftover from the rains that plagued the
preceding days. Though it didn’t look like it would rain, the
overall
effect was that of a blanket had been placed over the city - covering
it protectively. A light haze obscured the nearby high rise shops that
lined the street opposite the park. Ranma sighed. Days like this were
made to go out in, where the morning air was sharp and still clean from
the past rains and the clouds shielded the sun that would ordinarily
beat down on you. A slight wind blew , ruffling her already ruffled
bangs as she finished eating.
[Such a nice day, I hope no one messes with me today.]
Since living on the streets, Ranma has discovered, much to her
displeasure, that some men felt it was alright to take "liberties" with
her. Copping a feel here (which earns a broken finger to the
perpetuator) to, in one instance, someone actually trying to make off
with her while she slept (which earned a beating for the perverted
bastard). That came about from the only time she tried to sleep on a
park bench, she has since discovered sleeping under the bridge was the
safest place.
Ranma was starting to form a very low opinion of men and life in
general. Rising from her "breakfast table", she grabbed her pack and
headed off.
Moving to a more isolated part of the park, she set about doing a slow
kata, losing herself in the rhythm of the movement, stretching her
being for the real exercise to come. Once she felt she was reasonably
warmed up, she moved into higher forms blending complex attack and
defensive moves into a seamless, fast and deadly dance.
The art was all she had left, and she would not lose it.
**********
Another mindless day, another morning work out had just finished.
Ranma was not sure how much time had pasted since she first started
living on the streets (or under them), the days just seem to run
together. She just seemed to be. She’d got into a routine,
everyday
doing the same thing. Get up, eat, work on improving her art, eat,
improve her art, eat, improve her art, eat (if she could find anything
not picked over by that time of day), then sleep.
The very thought that she had no idea of how much time has past, didn't
seem to bother her in the least. All of the days just seem to run
together in one big blur. If you do nothing worth remembering, than
what's the point of even bothering to keep track of time. Memories are
all that make up a person anyways and Ranma's recent memories haven't
been worth the effort of keeping up with or sorting out.
Her behavior had been changing while she had been living on the streets
as well, things that use to enrage and generally piss her off now just
barely registered. She was becoming use to the way she was being
treated. Recent evidence was when the latest salary man to make a good
grab from behind, and with his hands squeezed both of Ranma’s
breasts
together, instead of breaking the guys hands like she use to, she just
simply brushed him off. Of course being "brushed off" by Ranma still
meant the guy ended up on his rear, but he still came away intact. It
had all became too common place and ordinary for her, so routine that
she didn't get mad about it or really think about it anymore. Just
another ordinary day. She started taking to avoiding people in general
now. She found that usually prevented problems, and when problems did
arrive, she would ‘brush” them off as well.
Time to clean up before lunch.
Walking into the restroom of the park, making sure it was empty, she
stripped off all her clothing and washed the best she could with the
sink and the hand soap from the dispenser. After getting reasonably
clean, she redressed into some relatively clean cloths she had washed
the day before. Then taking the clothes she was wearing she washed them
in the sink and then using a small amount of ki dried them.
Learning to control her ki like that took some doing. She
didn’t want
her clothes to become stinky from improper drying but her training in
the past always emphasized power over control. To dry clothes properly
with ki you needed control over power, or you’ll end up with
smoking
rags instead of dry clothes.
She had to hurry, the lunch rush was about to begin if she was lucky
she could get something to eat from the top of the trash instead of
having to dig around for it.
************
Afternoons were for her ki training.
Ranma had to start almost from scratch. Her “Moko
Takabisha” was
nowhere near as powerful as it once was, just a dim reminder of her
past “glory”. After the events with Herb, her
ex-father, the Tendo’s
and topping it all off living like she had over the past few - however
long it’s been - has been a severe blow to her confidence.
She had to retrain herself to try to use a more neutral, more balanced
method of generating ki. She beat herself over and over the head until
she found a way. She found a way to tap into her very will to live. The
advantage was that it depended on no emotional base to focus on and as
long as she wanted to live she would generate the amount of ki she
needed.
Controlling it was somewhat daunting. Before all she had to do was
concentrate her confidence into a single point in her being then
sending it to where ever she needed it. Now using her will to live
alone she had to spread it over a wider area of her body, it was too
powerful to concentrate to a single point. Her first and only attempt
of doing so made her feel like she was tearing her body apart from the
inside. First she thought that maybe the technique was flawed, she
would have to find something other than her willpower to channel. Then
she thought maybe all she needed to do was “toughen
up”to withstand the
strain, later she laughed at that. Living like she was, if she
wasn’t
“toughened up’ by now she never would be.
************
After training, back to the ladies room in the park to clean up.
Then dinner at the local dumpster.
Then finding a good spot under "her" bridge.
************
Another day.
**************
Another day.
**************
Another day.
**************
Another day.
**************
Another day. Another alley. Another dumpster.
Ranma was digging more nosily and more aggressively than usual.
This time Ranma was pissed.
[How dare they!] Ranma fumed to herself, [Those pigs! Just because a
girl (Ranma had unconsciously over time taken to referring to herself
in a female tense) is out on the street alone doesn’t mean
she wants to
do.. to do..”THAT”. What the hell gave them the
right to think that.
And waving all that money at me, thinking that will get me to.. to...
those bastards! Thinking I’m some kind’a whore just
because I live
under a bridge! What the hell was wrong with them?!]
[they had money]
Ranma froze somewhat with that thought, slowing her hunt for dinner.
[No!] shaking her head, [They could take their money and shove it. I
wont do that, I can’t!]
[you’re already a ronin, a dishonorable ronin at that.
what’s alittle more dishonor?]
Pause.
[No! I can’t believe I’m thinking about this!]
Ranma’s hands closed
into fists, squishing used paper napkins and garbage between her
slender fingers, [I would rather die in the streets than do that.]
[if you don’t do anything, that’s exactly what will
happen.]
[...]
[would you rather die cold and hungry on the streets, or with a full
belly and warm in some bed somewhere? is keeping your
“honor” really
worth it?]
[...]
[well what are you going to do? - winter will not wait for you to
decide. Might as well do it now than have circumstances force you to do
it anyway. you’re going to have to do something.]
With that, out of nowhere, the last words of her father came back to
haunt her,
"...then maybe you should go whore yourself like the honorless girl you
now are.”
Ranma froze some more and felt a pang deep within, completely
forgetting about digging for her dinner.
[what’s alittle more dishonor?]
[No f@%*ing way!] Ranma fumed to herself [I can make it. I can do
anything I set out to do! I’m the best! I'm the best martial
artist
there is, the best that ever was - why I could... I could...]
[have you took a good look around you lately?]
She faltered.
Ranma looked around her like it was for the first time in her life. She
was prone atop of a small mound of filth, arms outstretched, raking
thru the smelly (very smelly) garbage culling out items that she deemed
editable. She recoiled from her prone position and into a sitting one,
looking at her hands - hands that could split concrete walls if she
wanted, hands now covered in filth. Her hands began to shake, the rest
of her soon followed.
[Oh God! I'm digging in someone's trash for food.] she though
despairingly, [I don't have a name, I don't a home, I don't have
anything - how did this become normal?
How did I get like this? What did I do to deserve this? How did I come
to this?]
Ranma's began to shake even more, tears threaten her eyes.
[No! I will not do this. I will not cry. I am a man. Men don't cry.
Only weak women or...] >sniffle< [...silly...]
>sniffle<[...girls cry] Taking a shuddering breath to try
and
clam herself, [Yeah, right. Like everything else my father told me,
that's was a lie too.]
Ranma, still shaking, began slowly pulling herself together. She sat
there, arms hugging her knees, fighting the emotional and moral turmoil
that was raging inside her. Ignoring the smell of the refuse that was
surrounding her, she tried to think.
[Damn it!] >bong< as she hit the inside of the dumpster,
[What am I going to do? Can't I get even one break?]
[the only breaks are the one’s you make]
[SHUT UP!]
Ranma so intent on her plight, didn’t notice when a small,
snow haired
lady in her mid-60’s come out of the rear of the building
carrying a
large clear plastic garbage bag and approached the dumpster.
*******************
Akiko Yonai had a rough dinner rush. Considering that her families
resturant was only open for lunch and dinner that was saying alot. Her
granddaughter was a big help in the evenings, but lately the dinner
crowd has been picking up at such a pace, it has been too much for the
young girl to handle and her son Yoshi was so swamped in the kitchen,
it was all he could do to keep up. The last waitress she hired only
lasted a few weeks. Sigh. She would have to hire someone else to help
out in the evenings. It was at this point she heard a loud
>bong<
from the dumpster, and thought [What in the world?]
Slowly approaching the dumpster, not noticing the pack beside it, she
peeked over the edge into it.
“May I help you young lady?”
“EEEEEEEP!”
Ranma jumped, bonking her head on the overhanging cover of the
dumpster, she then fell back into the smelly refuse. Gasping for air,
hands clasp tightly to her chest, desperately trying to keep her heart
from escaping the confines for her heaving chest.
“M... may I help you young lady?” Akiko repeated.
Ranma laid there, still panting, trying to catch her breath, trying to
find her center before stuttering out,
“I... I...”
Ranma then froze wide eyed, why did her voice seemed so alien to her?
Then it hit her, when was the last time she talked to anyone? Even with
the recent confrontation with the perverts, she had remain silent
through all of it, telegraphing her meaning with a shake of her head or
a gesture of her hands - many of them obscene. She didn’t
know what to
say or what to do. In a city with millions of people, she hardly had
spoken to anyone in almost - she didn’t even know how long.
It was at that moment her loneliness and hopelessness crushed her. For
the first time since she could remember, Ranma wept openly in front of
a stranger.
Akiko was also at a loss. Here was a strange girl no older that her
granddaughter, digging through her dumpster, going from wide eyed and
(to her) frightened to sobbing spoke volumes of the pain she endured.
What on earth could have happened to such a lovely young girl to reduce
her to such a state. Akiko’s maternal instints kicked in and
being the
grandmother type, she decided to help this poor girl anyway she could.
“Come on dear, let’s get you out of there and
cleaned up,
and get you something to eat while we’re at it.”
“B... but -”
“We can talk all about that later dear, after your taken care
of.
Now come along .” Akiko said with an commanding yet
compellingly
Kasumi-like manner while offering her hand to assist Ranma out of the
dumpster.
Ranma looked at the hand through eyes still filled with tears, and took
it.
****************
Pluto watched with deep red eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. It
wouldn’t do if she had to prematurely intervene again at this
stage. If
Ranma had even suspected that the last three years of his - no her life
had been manipulated before fully understanding the meaning behind the
manipulations, there could be unfortunate consequences. One of them
being Pluto's own death if Ranma’s ire was raised enough, and
the
mistrust in the people Ranma needed to give her trust to. She would
react very badly if she found out too soon that it was Pluto that
arranged for Genma to find the book of ‘Forbidden Training
Grounds’
that lead to Ranma getting cursed...
...to having her show up at the Cat Cafe’, just when Herb was
there and getting her curse locked...
...to making sure that the kettle would be out of reach, to keep her in
her cursed form...
...to allowing life on the street to break her, so she could be rebuilt
into what was needed.
Overall Pluto felt that she had been fairly successful, given how
limited her influence was in Ranma’s life.
That was the thing to consider...
...Ranma’s life had proven to be exceedingly difficult to
affect given
her unpredictable nature. Pluto could not be sure with any certainty
how things would play out in the end. Not hearing from any of her
future selves was disquieting.
Unfortunately, unforeseen and unpredictable events had lead to this
desperate plan to awaken this Senshi before her time. It
couldn’t be
helped. The First Enemy has gotten cleverer and almost escaped
Pluto’s
watchful eyes. Almost.
If the enemy were detected earlier, then Pluto could have arranged a
fatal accident for Ranma in his childhood ending this life, but as it
is now she would be reborn far too late to help in the coming fight.
Pluto’s only option was to do what she did, and thus bring
about a
whole new set of problems. She hopes Ranma would forgive her.
It all had to be handled carefully, the Yonai family matriarch was the
perfect person to help Ranma with her through life's difficulties, a
role model of sorts. Akiko’s granddaughter, Michiko will be
the perfect
person to get Ranma more comfortable with being a girl. Ranma had to
accept it, too much was at stake for her not to. A stable environment
to ground Ranma in while her old memories were slowly (very slowly)
being awakened would be a great boost in preparing her what was to come.
Pluto had to move slowly and carefully.
If Pluto moved too fast the consequences were...
... an unstoppable and dangerously insane Ranma, wiping out the entire
solar system.
_____________________________
Hope I got all my edits in this time.
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