Morning.
The air was chilly, as it was close to winter, but the light of the sun felt strangely warm. The wind in the trees rustled. A young girl opened tired, dull eyes as she gradually climbed back to the world of the waking and uncurled from her position on the ground.
Dizzy gingerly pushed her head up a little. The sight of trees met her eyes, and she rubbed the last bits of sleep from them.
She rolled over a bit onto her back, and bumped into Ranma's legs.
There was a startled instant, when frightened red eyes met stony blue ones, and when that instant had passed, the owner of the red eyes had scrambled quite a distance away from the owner of the blue ones.
Ranma looked down at her with a face that could have been called "bored"... if he wasn't who he was, and if it wasn't such an improper word to use at the moment.
Around them, bodies lied still. The rain had... washed them... Dizzy looked away.
Ranma waited silently. Slowly, Dizzy stood up.
"What are you going to do with me now?" she asked.
Ranma just shrugged. "You'll come back to the Vatican with me, for now, and then we'll see about the rest."
Silence.
"Why are you still here?"
"Because you are my responsibility now."
Silence.
Dizzy rubbed at one sore arm as she slowly walked down the path. Ranma followed, his white trenchcoat shifting in the breeze.
They reached the end of the path, and the entrance to the village came into view around the bend.
Dizzy recoiled at the terrible smell of ash that the breeze carried toward her.
Before her, the charred remains of houses stood in piles of wreckage, and the light of the sun shined clearly upon the scorched stone of a few tiny buildings; the rest, made of wood or other less durable materials, had all been burned away. Craters and cracks littered the poor road and open spaces between buildings.
The smell of burned flesh was very, very faintly present under the much stronger smell of burned wood.
Covering her face to ward away the stench, Dizzy turned toward Ranma.
Ranma scratched the back of his head as he surveyed the ruined landscape with that same "bored" look.
"You, you did this didn't you?" Dizzy choked out through new tears.
Ranma didn't seem to hear.
"It was you, wasn't it? You burned this village? You killed these people?"
"...No," Ranma replied at last.
"How?" Dizzy continued unheeding. "All these people... how could you? They were just trying to carry on with their lives!"
As the breeze pushed a swirl of ash and dust around him, Ranma turned to face the girl's accusing glare.
And suddenly he shrugged.
"What is that to us?" he asked. "You see to it."
Where she found the strength or courage to do so, she didn't know, but Dizzy screamed at him anyway. "WHAT KIND OF MONSTER ARE YOU!? HOW COULD YOU DO THIS!?"
She ran again, away from him, through the destroyed village. Everywhere around her, there was the sight of immolation and carnage. In the marketplace, there were burned down carts and stands. Smashed stonework and broken streets. There were no bodies outside. She didn't know why, but she could guess. The smell was overwhelming.
Shutting her eyes, she ran, stumbled and fell in the broken streets, and ran some more, out of the village and into the wooded hills that lied beyond.
Running and running and running.
She had been running the entire day, and at last, as the sun was setting, the lack of rest, of food, and of suitably warm clothing for the wintry day caught up with her. She collapsed at the foot of a tree and curled up into a small ball.
She couldn't hear them anymore. The faint sounds that only she could ever hear. The deep sound of Necron's growls in the back of her mind, or the whimsical notes of Ondine's song either. For so many years she couldn't even ignore them, couldn't quiet them. How they always fought inside her head, how they argued and bickered, keeping her awake at night and distracted during the day. Now... she felt so lonely without them. Without the assurance that she wasn't alone.
It was strange. And scary. And sad.
Now she really was alone.
She fell asleep with those thoughts in her head.
Morning.
A young girl woke to the sound of wind rustling through the branches of the trees around her, as she pushed herself up from the base of the tree under which she had spent the night.
Red eyes met blue ones, but this time there wasn't much of an effort to be frightened or surprised.
Ranma watched her with a "bored" expression as he stood there with his hands in his pockets.
Dizzy returned a weary look from where she sat.
(Posted Sat, 01 Jan 2005 06:43)
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