Disclaimer: I don't own this series or any other series. I am just floating an idea. I am making no money, nor plan to, off this venture. If you think of suing me over this, then grow up.
Any of you familiar with my first Ranma story know this one from the possibility file. A few of you thought that this was an idea to be incorporated into Ranma: Take 2. This was meant as a separate story idea.
There are new story ideas at the end of this chapter. I might be able to make them work, as I am beginning to hit some writer's blocks. Let me know what you think of it in your review. If you want to try them, e-mail me and I'll help as best as I can, either as a proofreader, or to help with writer's blocks.
So, here I am.
I am slowly making my way to my mother's house, making my way to my future, my destiny, if such things can be said.
I know the others are no doubt trying to catch me, perhaps even stop me, fearing at what I may be trying to do, fearing at what may happen by my appearance alone. By now, those of the Nerima Wrecking Crew are roof-hopping or driving here to block me from my destination, from introducing my battered, broken, cursed self to her.
But I have to do this. I have twenty-four hours to get to know the woman who hasn't seen me in almost twelve years, a woman who many have doubts about because she reasoned the my father was the person who could teach me to be a man among men.
What a laugh, I must remember to ask her about that.
I know what the others are thinking, what they will think about this. I know they think I am simply doing this because I wish for it to end, that I can see no future for myself trapped forever in this chair; that I should have hope that one day an item or technique will arrive and I will regain the use of my legs. They will berate me with talk that I should always have hope.
In a way, I guess they could be right. I mean, this action alone would seem to indicate that I seek out death. But the same could be said about the battles I have fought and the fights I tend to be drawn into. But this action is not entirely for that purpose. I am not actively seeking my death at the hands of my own mother, though I will not lie and say that a part of me wishes for it.
But that is only a part of me, not the entirety of me. I do wish to live, to experience more joy from this life. I do wish to see and do more things that I have no ability to dream of or grasp right now; more thanks to my lack of education my father has thrust upon me.
My father, what I can say about the idiot would fill a small book. While his methods are harsh, I did know that he cared about me in some small way. But I am not foolhardy enough to believe that that is enough to define him. Like my feelings for death, those feelings are only a part of him, and sadly not the defining part. Of course maybe now and from what I have seen lately, who is to say.
I see them outside the window, happy couples, children playing together before school; lives I could have led, could have had had my destiny for this life not chased me so. I won't lie and say I wish I had never had such an interesting life, it did make things fun. But I will not lie also and say that I wish that it wasn't, as there were times that such simple things would have been great to enjoy.
I never did get to grow up like a normal child, never did get to play at school, learn the basics of human interaction (a sad failing also given to me by my father but returned for the price of my legs). Instead, the art was my school, my friend, my teacher, my everything.
So what do I seek by doing this, what do I wish to gain from meeting a woman who by all definitions, would be a danger?
I guess I expect guidance. The truth is that while I have been in this chair, I have done more thinking about my future than I have done in the last few years. The truth is I know I still have a place in the art. I can still crank out new moves faster than even Khu Lon could. My mind is still as sharp as ever and given time, I undoubtedly could come up with new ways that would take what I know and make me appear to be Akane by comparison.
But that is not what I want right now, if ever. What I want now is to know my place, know what I have available to me. The art is my life, but like my feelings for death, it is no longer the whole of me. I need to know if there is anything beyond what I can do if all I am is this fighter, a master of the art. I need to know if beyond this if I can grow to master the art of the mind, like Nabiki has made strides in, or Khu Lon has, between the two I have never encountered a sharper wit.
But will my mother ask for my life? The truth is I don't know, while it is also the truth that there is a part of my mind that both hopes for and wishes against such an event. I know she loves me, misses me, and desperately wishes to see me.
Maybe that is why I am really doing this: I am tired of others suffering because I refuse to stand up and make my own path, my own destiny. I failed the others because I could never hurt them by telling them that I had to choose one, by letting them continue to fight over me as a possession rather than as a soul. I cannot let my own mother suffer and not know her own son before something else happens. It would only be a matter of time before Kuno would show up and try once again to "fully vanquish the foul sorcerer Saotome who holds his true loves from him" or his sister to try and abduct me and take out a foolhardy sense of vengeance against the others, resulting in no less than two deaths between them in any scenario I run in my head. For all I know, Taro could return and strike to try and change his name, or Ryoga could forget again and attack.
Too many enemies, too many people wanting a piece of me one way or another, to not start making decisions.
This one is the easiest by far. I know I have to settle things with her first, I know I need to heal my family, even if I can only do this by my death. My parents will not follow me into the void soon after. I will make my mother promise to live, to continue and maybe have another child, one safe from the horrors I have seen. Hell, with technology and the power this woman seems to yield (I do have a sneaking suspicion that her family is by all means well off from what I have seen her spend on the other Tendo girls and their cousin Ranko), I could very well end up cloned and born again. Hell, she may even know of a way to fix my paralysis. But for the curse, I think I'll keep it, this incident has taught me not to worry about such trivial things. If the others can't accept that, well then it is their loss, but hopefully not the end of our friendship.
But those things involve hope and daydreams. I can't allow myself to fall for such things right now. I won't ask such things of her, I have no right to, even as her son. If she offers, I will accept her help. I will not make myself appear bull-headed to her. If my mother wishes for me to live and offers a way to walk and run again, who am I to tell her no? If she wishes for me to do nothing more than live and be her son (I sure as hell will not become both a manly man and a proper woman) I can and will accept.
But for now, I wish nothing more than to spend the day and get to know this woman, get to know her so that if nothing else, it will be one less regret for me to carry on to the other side. Besides, I plan to visit a few Kamis over there and "talk" about the reasons for my interesting life.
As the cab slows down, I can see her outside the main gate, looking at hope towards me. What will she do when she sees what I am now, what I have become, what I have done, and what I am, is beyond my capabilities to judge now? All I can do is plead my case, and hope that her love will truly set me free, one way or another.
This may very well be the last chapter for this story. I am hesitant to expand, because I can hardly force myself to keep it so dark, as I wish to make it a lighter story and give Ranma hope. It has been suggested I end it at the letters, let people expand in their minds about how it should go. I have read stories to this effect, where the author let the reader decide it was who Ranma married and got pregnant or who snuck into his room and had their way with him.
So I'll make this promise. Let me know what you think. Should I continue this and how so, or should I leave it now, letting you each decide how it should play out in your minds. If you wish, right your own ending and send it to me. If I like it, you can either make it a new story post (one shot or continuation is up to you), I just ask that you let me see how you plan to start it and what might be the path it follows.
When I first started this, I was upset about the sheer amount of "Ranma got injured and totally abandoned" stories out there. I am glad at the positive reviews I got at this aspect of it. Now however, I am beginning to fail at how to take it further, as my mind is daydreaming too much about new stories, trying to distract me from finishing my old ones first.
So for now, the future of "Broken" is up to you. It may continue from my line, or it may explode into multiple AU by multiple authors.
Either way, I thank you for listening to my rant, for taking the time and effort to read and review my stories. They have helped me feel better about my talents, as I hope they have made you enjoy these little thoughts of mine.
See you in other stories, if not this one.