"Exams, exams, and more exams." Takahashi grumbled, pushing away from her work station and the huge book she had been reading.
Nanami smirked, looking up from her check list, "You've been studying that for over two months, Yani. Shouldn't you be ready to ace that final?"
Rubbing her eyes, the aforementioned student sighed bitterly, "I like to hope so.." her tone laced with doubt.
Setting her clip board down, the older nurse clucked her tongue, "Is something the matter?"
"No.." Yani sighed again, "No, it's nothing. Just burned out I guess." she grumbled, standing up, "I've got rounds."
"Right." Nanami allowed the topic to fall, retrieving her clip board. "Remember, it's Thursday."
Yani blinked, "Uh.. so?"
Rolling her eyes, the older nurse berated the younger one, "Thursday night, every week. Patient 10? We need another tissue sample." Of course, patients weren't referred to by such numbers. Patient 10 was a nickname the nurses had given that particular individual. Ten, as in from a scale of One to Ten, he was at the top.
Yani sighed again. How could she forget about that of all things? It had been routine ever since she began working the shift. Every Thursday, with out fail, they collected a tissue and muscle sample of Patient 10. The doctors had been rather clear on those instructions, and she couldn't blame them either. "Yay! Statue here I come!" she giggled forcibly, in obvious fake enthusiasm.
Nanami frowned, "That’s not very nice. How would you feel if you were in his shoes.."
"Nothing. Being in a coma negates conscious thought, remember?" Yani drawled as she walked away. She didn't really mind having to collect the samples, in fact she often enjoyed it, much to her secret delight. She just wasn't in the mood for the extra work.
***
The room was small, white walls littered with various machines, small status images giving a pale light to the room as it displayed the room's single patients vital statistics. The various beeps of the rooms only decor provided the only interruption to the area's oppressive silence.
Lying unconscious, Ranma Saotome slept. Unaware of the world around.
Slowly, a red shimmering mist began to appear, hugging the floor. One by one the machines began to flicker, until eventually shutting down entirely. No alarms were raised by the event, allowing for no interruption as the mist slowly congregated next to the bed. Billowing unto itself as it slowly took form.
As the mist finished flowing into the form, a man emerged. Unkempt blood red hair framed the face of a pale man. Eyes a eerie yellow, he was dressed with brown khakis, a white button up shirt, and a disheveled jacket.
"You need a shave, boy." he grumbled, looking over the patient with a critical glare. It was true, two years of no shaving had giving the young man a scruffy looking beard. Rounding the bed, he grabbed the boys medical chart. Thumbing through the charts, he eventually shrugged and tossed it away. "I think you've slept long enough."
***
Yani gave the patient a idle glance, quickly checking the machines to make sure everything was in working order.
"Oh!" a man's voice spoke up from behind, startling her.
Whipping around, reflexively bringing one hand up to her chest to calm her rapidly beating heart, Yani scowled at just who she saw, "Damn it! Yochiro! You scared me to death!"
Yochiro chuckled nervously, idly pushing the thin wire framed glasses up the bridge of his nose, "Sorry, sorry! Didn't mean too."
Waving him off, Yani turned to the patient again, checking the wires running across her body, "Just don't do it again."
"Right." he nodded with a grin, allowing a tepid silence to descend upon them.
Yani didn't feel it at first, but sparing a glance at the man, she groaned internally. He was doing it again. Just standing there, staring at her. Probably undressing her with his eyes again. Ugh, Yochiro was such a pervert. Unable to take the ogling anymore, she snapped, "Don't you have anything better to do then stare?"
"Nope!"
Oh how she hated that man.
***
His head felt weird. Like his brain had been smothered in feathers. Slow, lethargic to an absurd degree. This might be a normal occurrence for other people, but it wasn't for him. "Uggh.." he coughed, trying to speak. His voice felt raw, like a piece of sun dried fish that had been left outside to rot for far too long.
"Oh he of lost flesh. Traveling the dreams of waken mind, tortured through eternities gate. Sleep, he did. His awakening would be a grand affair, but alas, ruined it was by the dazed." an annoyingly regal voice intoned.
"Shhu gggup" Ranma grumbled.
The man snorted, "That’s no way to talk to your savior, son."
Eyes cracking open, he hissed mentally at the pain. Just what the hell had happened to him? Where the hell was he? Last he remembered he was eating some of.. no wait, that’s not right. Uggh.. fire? What the hell.. "Where.. who?" he eyed the man. He seemed familiar, but try as he might, he couldn't call any knowledge of just who this strange guy was to the fore. More importantly, the room was completely alien to him.
The man bowed extravagantly, "Tichondrius, at your service."
Ranma blinked, eyes widening in shock as remembrance kicked in.
***
She frowned, watching through the Well. It had taken much of her doing to even track him down this far. What could he be planning? Why would he be using him? What could tempt him to break the Peace their Father had declared on the subject?
***
"Lets cut the formalities, shall we?" Tichondrius coughed into his hand, "I'm afraid time is against me for this meeting, so I'll be blunt. It's been two years since your unfortunate incident, an incident where you would have died and spent the rest of eternity wallowing in the pits of hell, no doubt wishing for madness to rob you of your individuality, unaware that the entities who control the pits of suffering make sure this never happens."
"Two.. two years?" Ranma breathed, unbelieving. Two years of his life, gone just like that? What the hell?
Tichondrius snorted, "What were you expecting? Me to just return you to life, and teach you as I go?" he chuckled, "Really, that would be the atypical demon's Modus Operendi. Not mine, however."
"Then.. where have I been?"
"In a dream. Training. Learning. Practicing. Understanding." the demon in disguise said evenly, "You can't remember it just yet, I'd wager it would take a few weeks, or a few months, before you remember in full what happened. And that’s exactly what you have."
Ranma sighed, laying his head back down and closing his eyes, "What is it I gotta do.. boss..." he was mildly appalled by his choice of words, but for some reason, calling him boss just.. felt right.
Tichondrius shrugged, "First you need to recover. Spend a little while examining the things you once prized in this world, and coming to grips with what you remember. You'll find things have changed, mostly on your part, and certain factors of your old life are.. undesirable for our agreement." he eyed the boy a moment, before shrugging, "In time, I'll come to you directly. Otherwise, enjoy your life."
Ranma sighed internally. In exchange for the souls of his mother and fiancée, he's eternally bound himself to some megalomaniacal demon, become nothing more then a pawn for his no doubt despicable designs. Is it worth it? Is it... right?
"One more thing, Ranma." The demon in human guise warned.
"What?"
"While you were asleep this entire time, you'll find your body to be in the same physical condition as it was. Aside from some loss in flexibility, which I'm sure you'll correct post haste, you'll find the fact you retain muscle conditioning a hot topic when the doctors start asking questions tomorrow."
Ranma blinked, then drawled, "Great.. give me a migraine already and go away. Geesh.."
"Heh. You'll get more then that before I'm done with you." the demon intoned cryptically, before dispersing into red mist, quickly evaporating entirely.
"Great... just great.." he drawled, eyes flashing to the door as he heard the lock clicking open. "Yep.. just perfect."
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(Posted Mon, 28 Jun 2004 05:58)
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