Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction ❯ The Crow: Okami no Kage ❯ Reunioun ( Chapter 2 )

Author's Notes: Once again, I don't own Ranma 1/2 or the Crow...so all you lawyers can just stop harassing me! Also, the rewrite in this chapter is monor. The only thing I changed was Ryoga's conversation at the end with the "Skull Cowboy", to give a better sense of bone-face's personality.

The Crow: Okami no Kage
By Esor

Chapter 2: Reunion

Thick, heavy rain pounded down upon the nearly empty streets. Most people had enough common sense to stay inside this night, safe and comfortable within their homes. But Ukyo Kounji wasn't listening to her common sense as she ran at full speed through the dark, wet city. Common sense told her that she was wasting her time. Common sense told her that the man known as Ryoga Hibiki was dead and buried. He had been so for just about a year now. Common sense told her that the bright column of light that even now slowly began to fade from view could not possibly be one of Ryoga's Shi Shi Houkoudan attacks. Yet she continued on towards the Tendo Dojo, clinging to the newly sparked embers of hope burning within her heart.

*****

His energy spent, Ryoga sagged to his knees at the center of the smoking crater caused by his own despair. The roof directly above him was gone now, allowing a few scant raindrops from the gradually dissipating storm to fall upon his back. Slowly, he pushed himself to his feet and stumbled through the grim husk of what was once a home in a daze, too emotionally exhausted to feel much of anything. The strange crow that had accompanied Ryoga since his frantic climb from the grave landed atop the outer wall of the Tendo home as the lost boy hauled himself over and leaned wearily against the stone. The memories Ryoga somehow absorbed from the deserted building whirled and danced in his mind, weaving an incomplete tapestry of the life he once led here in Nerima. The Saotome and Tendo families had been central to that life, yet a myriad other nameless faces that he couldn't place still drifted through his memory unanchored. He closed his eyes, sagging against the cold, slick stone, unaware of the softly approaching footsteps.

"R...Ryoga...?" A voice called out tentatively, causing Ryoga's eyes to snap open.

A girl about his own age, clad only in a rain soaked black t-shirt and jeans, stood before him. She swept a few strands of long, wet, auburn hair away from her face, as her large turquoise eyes, brimming with pain and loss, gazed at Ryoga. The girl's voice, tinged with a desperate hope, stirred something deep within Ryoga. A flood of emotions suddenly swept over him, bringing new images from his forgotten past.

Ukyo watched, her heartbeat pounding like a drum in her ears as a pair of hazel eyes focused on her face through thick, soggy, jet black bangs. She curled her arms about her shoulders, fearful that the familiar figure might vanish from sight like a phantom if she dared to approach. Touches of confusion danced clearly across the partially obscured face before her, and for a moment, the harsh sting of doubt threatened to crush Ukyo's heart. Then, a voice she thought would never be heard again emerged from hesitantly moving lips.

"Ukyo?" Ryoga asked, struggling with the murky memories of a cheerful, spatula-wielding young woman.

"It's you...it really is you..." Ukyo whispered, tears filling her eyes. With a strangled sob, she threw herself on Ryoga, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. She pressed her soft cheek to his, crying tears of relief and happiness,

Ukyo stalked angrily along the downtown Tokyo street, scanning her surroundings intently. Where could that jackass Ryoga be? They were only days away from the mixed doubles anything-goes martial arts tournament, and he had the nerve to get lost! Ukyo rounded another corner and paused in her mental diatribe as she glanced impatiently at her watch. She, Ranma, and Akane had been combing the city for Ryoga all night. If she was lucky, maybe the others had already found the jackass and brought him back to Ucchan's, where she could proceed to chain him to a chair.

"...of the victims ID'ed as Ranma Saotome and Akane Tendo..." A small snippet of conversation reached Ukyo's ears as she approached an alleyway behind a local nightclub.

Slowing her pace as she continued towards the alley, Ukyo's heart filled with dread as she glanced at the ambulance and pair of police cars parked a few feet away. Two stretchers stood next to the left wall of the alley, covered by bloodstained white sheets cast in the telltale shape of a human body. Her blood turned to ice within her veins as she listened to a pair of uniformed officers talking.

"They were both students at Furinkan High School over in the Nerima ward." One of the officers said.

"Damn shame." The other replied, shaking his head. "What about the other one?"

"Don't know yet. We're going to run his fingerprints through the computer..." The first officer looked off to the right, with Ukyo reluctantly following his gaze.

A figure lay there slumped against the wall, with it's arms sprawled, twisted and broken, at it's sides. It's sleeveless yellow shirt and dark green pants were spattered with wet, crimson blood. Dull, glassy, hazel eyes stared blankly at her from their place set beneath a shattered skull.

Ukyo's mouth ran dry and her hands trembled as she gazed at the dead face of her friend. The police officers struggled to restrain her as she lunged forward, barely even aware of her own movements as a tortured scream ripped its way through her throat.

"RYOGA!!"

The pair of teenagers swiftly pulled away from each other in shock. Ukyo shivered and stumbled backward out into the street as the same gut wrenching pain and fear from that day coursed through her body anew. The memory had been so real, so vivid, more than any of the nightmares which plagued her sleep for months afterward. Ryoga could only stand there against the wall in silent horror, the image of his own blank, lifeless face burned into his mind. Ukyo's memory was now his memory, complete with the chaotic emotions now surging within him.

From her place in the street, Ukyo breathed deeply, staring at Ryoga with wide, confused eyes. "What was th..." Ukyo began, only to be cut off by the glaring headlights of an approaching car, its tires sliding across the slick asphalt as the driver desperately applied the brake.

Ryoga moved without thinking, diving forward to force Ukyo out of the path of the skidding vehicle. Ukyo fell to the ground, unable to do anything save watch as several thousand pounds of metal struck the form of her newly returned friend full on. The car continued forward as Ryoga tumbled over the hood and across the roof, feeling his bones break, muscles tear, and organs rupture. With a sickening thud, his body hit the ground while the car finally swerved to a stop.

The driver of the car, a man of late middle age, rushed to her side, frantically muttering apologies as he helped Ukyo stand. The sharp, stabbing pain in her ankle meant that it was most likely twisted in the fall, but Ukyo didn't care about that. Fresh tears pooled at the corners of her eyes, which were locked on Ryoga's limp figure. What cruel turn of fate would bring her friend back from the dead, only to take him away moments later? When a coarse, loud caw momentarily caught Ukyo's attention, she glanced over her shoulder to see a large black crow land on the man's car. The bird cawed once again, but this time the sound was joined by a low, painful groan as Ryoga slowly climbed to his feet. He stared down at his body, running a hand across his chest in wonder. He wasn't hurt. In fact, it was almost as if he hadn't been hit at all. The same thoughts raced through both Ukyo and Ryoga's minds. How could it be possible that he didn't have a scratch on him? True, the Lost Boy had always been strong, but this was different, HE was different.

"Ryoga..." Ukyo whispered quietly. "...what are you?"

Finding himself without an answer, uncertainty and doubt raged within Ryoga's mind. After a final, frightened glance into Ukyo's confused eyes, Ryoga fled, ignoring the okinomiyaki chef's desperate pleas for him to stay.

*****

Ryoga had no idea how long, or how far, he ran. He raced blindly through the night, driven by the need to get away, to escape the horrible nightmare he found himself trapped in. Without even turning to look, Ryoga knew that the dull, rhythmic flapping sound above his left shoulder could only come from one source. Oddly enough, he found the presence of the strange crow slightly comforting. The bird, after all, had been by his side since those first, terrifying moments after he climbed out of his own grave. A glass bottle, carelessly discarded on the sidewalk, finally ended Ryoga's frantic dash through the streets of Tokyo. Crying out in surprise, Ryoga tumbled, slamming quite ungraciously into the cold pavement face first.

"Man, you are one hard person to catch up with..." A voice rang out in the darkness as Ryoga lay there, sprawled on the ground.

"Who's there?" Ryoga called, his eyes following the sound to where a rather tall, and quite thin, figure stood, nearly completely cloaked in shadows. "Who are you?"

"Some people call me a Skull Cowboy..." The figure said cryptically, slowly approaching Ryoga. "Some call me the Gangster of Death..." As the mysterious man stepped closer, Ryoga gasped. Clad in a dark blue suit and broad, old styled preacher's hat, stood a walking, talking stark white skeleton. "Some people call me Maurice..."

Ryoga could only stare in stunned silence as the ghastly, skinless skull grinned morbidly at him.

"It's a joke, guy." The self proclaimed Skull Cowboy said after a few moments. "Like the old song 'Some people call me a space cowboy...', you know?" After a few more moments, he sighed, wearily running a bony hand across his face. "You newly risen types have no sense of humor. Looks like we'll just have to get down to business, then."

"Wh...what are you talking about?" Ryoga asked, shakily reclaiming his voice.

The black, empty sockets where the Skull Cowboy's eyes should have been stared at Ryoga for a second, as if sizing him up. "Hmm. Sorry about this, friend, but you're gonna need to remember all of it before you start..."

"I don't under..." Ryoga began, trailing off when the Skull Cowboy delivered a curt nod to the crow watching the exchange from atop a nearby trash can.

A dim overhead streetlight shone down on the dank alleyway, driving back the encroaching shadows. A chill prevailed in the silent air, but Ryoga didn't feel it. His attention was focused upon the grisly, scene before him. Directly beneath the bright circle of artificial light two bodies lay still, unmoving, dead. Akane, eyes closed and clad in her familiar blue dress, held a serene, peaceful expression on her face. She seemed almost as if she were simply sleeping, but the pool of crimson liquid surrounding her head betrayed the truth. Across Akane's body lay Ranma's limp form, his arms wrapped protectively around her waist. Ranma's red Chinese shirt hung from his bruised and battered frame in tatters, with three large bullet wounds blossoming like bloody flowers on the young martial artist's back, revealing the cause of his death.

A quintet of menacing shadows approached, drawing Ryoga's attention from the bodies of his friends. As they closed around him in a tight half circle, he fixed a hateful glare on each of the five figures in turn. The first, a short, squinty eyed young man no older than Ryoga himself, wiped a trail of blood from his face and turned away. To the youth's left an overly handsome man with long dark hair gathered into a ponytail rolled his eyes, seeming bored. On the other side of the half circle stood a blonde haired American, looking down at Ryoga with an arrogant, uncaring smirk planted on his lips. Beside the bishonen a bald man, slightly older than the others, with a wicked looking scar on the side of his face grinned cruelly at Ryoga. His sadistic smile showed how much he enjoyed inflicting each once of pain, from the broken elbows to the shattered jaw, on the younger martial artist.

It was the one standing in the middle at which Ryoga directed the most hatred, however. The one now standing triumphantly over him, brushing back a few locks of short cropped black hair while gazing down with icy blue eyes. The one who held a sleek silver pistol in his right hand, on which was tattooed green dragon that spiraled all the way up his bared forearm. The one who moments before, killed Ryoga's friends. "Nothing personal." The man said, leveling the same gun that finished Ranma at the lost boy. "Looks like you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

The gunshot echoed through the vaults of Ryoga's memory, drowning out the sound of his own scream as forgotten rage and pain tore it's way through his body.

"You've probably realized this already, Mr. Hibiki, but you are currently dead as the proverbial doornail." The Skull Cowboy said with a tinge of humor as Ryoga's howl of fury ebbed away. "Well...deader, actually."

Ryoga simply stared down at the stark gray sidewalk, fighting back the tears threatening to spill forth from his eyes. "Then why am I still here?" He asked quietly.

"The so called powers that be have this little thing about karmic balance, you see..." The Cowboy continued, oblivious to Ryoga's plight. "...and just leaving your soul to wander around that big tourist trap in the sky with so much sorrow, pain, and whatnot just throws everything outta whack. That's why they sent the crow, here, to bring you back. As your link to the other world, it makes you practically immortal for the time being. And you don't even have to worry 'bout that nasty little Jusenkyo curse of yours anymore, since it doesn't seem to work on dead people for some reason." Bony shoulders shrugged slightly beneath the suit. "Mazel tov, pallie, you've been given a second chance."

"A second chance?" Ryoga spat. "A second chance at what!? I can't save Ranma and Akane after they're dead and buried!"

"Too true, too true. They've both moved on, beyond your reach...for now." The Skull Cowboy stood slowly, looming over Ryoga before turning to walk away into the night. "But there is still something you can do." The shadows swiftly enveloped skeleton, leaving only his hollow voice to be carried on the wind. "You can finally set the wrong things right..."