Ryoga Hibiki had, in his fury at Akane's sob-story, forgotten one extremely important detail.
Ranma Saotome was a member of a small, extremely unusual group of people. A group that numbered only three still living, and one of them had been in a coma for twenty years.
Ranma had killed a god. When said like that, it sounds simple. Like something J. Random Psychopath would do before lunch. Put it into practise in the real world, however, and things become somewhat more complex, not to mention extremely hair-raising.
For the first time in his life, Ryoga Hibiki found his headlong charge halted dead. Not by any form of violence, simply by an extended palm against his chest. Ice-cold blue eyes met his gaze, and with a dull thud Ranma's battle aura came up, shrouding the area in it's glow.
"Ryoga." Ranma snarled. "You ain't got the vaguest clue about hell. You want hell? I'll show you hell."
A dense red blot of ki - not Ranma's usual light confidence-ki, this was the heavy, dark ki of anger - erupted from the palm of Ranma's hand, ploughing Ryoga away from the infuriated aquatranssexual.
It was the single heaviest blow Ryoga had ever felt. He could hear ribs cracking, even before his back met the JGSDF infantry fighting vehicle that had been unfortunate enough to be behind him. That blow was enough to send his breath blasting out of him and dim his vision; through the tears that had come to his eyes from the impact he could see Ranma stalking towards him.
"Hell?" Ranma asked, his voice quiet and very controlled. "You don't know shit, Hibiki. You're just the same as those three fucking bitches. Always blamin' me for all the shit you're goin' through even while you're hidin' in a dark corner an' bein' just as fucked up as the rest of us. You want hell? Try bein' betrayed by someone you thought you could trust. Try spendin' ten years bein' tortured on the road by my fuckbrained father. Try puttin' up with morons like you jumpin' outta nowhere just ta attack you. Try livin' like I was. What happened, that backstabbin' lesbian creep whine on about how I wised up to her screwin' me over, huh?"
Ryoga carefully peeled himself off the side of the halfway overturned, very bent and buried in a grassy slope armoured vehicle, shaking the cobwebs out of his head. He locked eyes with Ranma, and....
Hey, tis me first post here. I wasn't sure how to tag it with Ranma's swear-like-drain outbreak, but with broken ribs at the very least I figured dark was probably appropriate.
Sorry, I don't have an email addy right now, me ISP's gone all wonky.
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(Posted Mon, 26 Apr 2004 04:22)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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