Hilo everyone! I had this idea stewing in my head for a while and thought that I should at least try it. I noticed that there was only one other RankaxOC, but the OC was female and that went against his promise. Anyway, hope you like it, please review.
"I got kicked out of ballet class because I pulled a groin muscle. It wasn't mine." -- Rita Rudner
The only noises were the buzzes from the lamp posts as their light cut through the dark, the few early risers driving their cars to get to work or just the opposite; going home; and last remnants of music in the all night bars. The soft snow was falling and flowing with the chilly breeze to land on everything, creating a white blanket. The ground was slippery and there were areas where there was a thin sheet of ice that cracked beneath my heavy brown leather boots. When I took a deep lungful of the scent, the only word I could think of to describe it was "white," and when I exhaled through my mouth, I could see the vapor of my breath swirl around and then thin out and distribute itself with the rest of the frozen air. Everything seemed peaceful, and it was as if, for those few minutes of complete silence, time itself, like everything around me, had frozen. I stood still, taking in that little piece of wishful fantasy, breathing slowly to make sure that I didn't crack it, like the frozen puddle being stepped, on with my loud and careless inhales and exhales. Unfortunately, the rarely viewed atmosphere was short-lived.
Two scrawny men were trying to rob and possibly rape a young red-headed woman that looked slightly drunk in an alley. I carefully walked behind one of them and kicked him behind the knees so he fell and then I kicked him down on his front. His partner, just realizing what had happened, turned and lunged toward me. It was easy to see coming so I merely stepped to the side and stuck out my leg, tripping him; he was drunk too because I could smell the strong and very aged sake. His head hit the wall and he fell to the filthy floor littered with trash and slicked with snow and garbage slime. The first guy was trying to get up, but I didn't see him. He sprinted, grabbed the woman's purse from her arms and took off out of the alley, leaving behind his unconscious friend.
I turned to the woman and asked, "Are you alright, miss?" She wore a long flowing purple skirt that went down to her red flats. To keep warm all she had was a tan trench coat that didn't look very warm at all, but she wasn't shivering. All the booze must have numbed her senses quite a bit.
"I could have handled it!" She yelled… except… the tone of the voice was way too low to be a woman's.
With another long look, I realized that it was indeed a 'man in drag.' A cross dresser. He probably came from that bar I walked by earlier. "Sorry," I said. "Do you need a ride somewhere?" I didn't really care that he was a cross dresser as long as he wasn't a prostitute trying to get something out of me or a burglar, but he seemed too tipsy to be the latter, and too angry to be the first.
"No," he said, walking past me. "I'm just fine. I don't need your help." His voice slurred, but it was clear enough. He tripped and stumbled so much on the way out of the alley that I knew I would feel guilty if I just let him walk home alone.
"Hey," I said, quickly catching up to him in a little more than a few long strides out of the alley. "Come on." I took hold of his elbow and he twisted around and gave me a hard glare with his light brown eyes, but then he lost his balance for a bit. "You're tired, you just got robbed and you're drunk off your ass tonight. I don't want to get in your skirt, okay? All I'm offering is a place for you to rest and sober up."
"I've t'geh home… daughter," he slurred and tried walking away again swaying heavily from side to side as he struggled to take his steps.
I understood perfectly even though he slurred that sentence so much. All I needed to hear was 'daughter' and I knew I couldn't let him walk home. I grabbed his shoulder and got in front of him, staring at him in his droopy eyes. "That's why you need to let me take you home. If something happened to you I'm absolutely positive that your daughter will be very sad. So let me drive you…?"
The cross dresser slumped into my chest, passed out.
"Oh, great," I bit out, holding him up from under his armpits. He probably wouldn't wake up for a while and in the mean time, since his purse was stolen, I had no clue where he lived. "Well, nothing much else to do, but take him home with me," I murmured. I pulled him on to my back and held him by his legs, making sure that his skirt covered as much as it could. He wrapped his arms around my neck and nuzzled into my crocheted black and gray striped scarf. He slurred and murmured some incoherent words that I didn't even try to decipher.
I went to the nearest payphone and called the police to report the robbery and that the guy was unconscious in the alleyway. If they got the man to squeal out his friend, they could probably get the purse back in no time flat, although I couldn't guarantee that everything would be there. I made sure to say my address slowly so that they could just return the purse to my house. Hopefully before the man on my back woke up so I could drive him home and not have for him to get to know me. I lived in a nearby apartment and was about to do some early morning shopping so it was a fairly short walk. However, the man was heavy, I lived on the top floor and there wasn't an elevator. I had to adjust the man on my back every other floor so he wouldn't slide off. He occasionally giggled and said more words that I couldn't quite understand. No one was awake (it was around 4:30 in the morning) so I didn't get any weird or awkward stares like I'm sure I would have gotten if it was only a few hours later.
I sighed in relief when I got to my door. "Finally," I murmured. I struggled to get my keys out of my pocket and I unlocked my door and went inside. It was very cold because there wasn't any central heating for the apartment complex and it was in the coldest parts of winter. I sat down on the matted floor and carefully set him down too, having him lean on my shoulder. I unlaced my boots and took them off, along with his shoes, and placed them at the edge in a neat line.
I picked the man up under the knees and across the back of the shoulders and set him down under the kotatsu (1) so he could warm up a bit and until I could figure out what to do with him. I noticed that the hem of his skirt was dirty, probably because of all his tripping, and I noticed a bit of dried vomit on the collar of his trench. That wasn't much of a surprise considering how drunk he was and how loosely he hung on to his purse. He curled deeper under the kotatsu and wrapped the futon around his shoulders, sighing deeply as he did. "Ha… hi," he murmured.
I got a pillow out of my room and gently lifted his head to tuck it under. I figured that he could sleep there until either he woke up or until the police came with his purse. I swept a tendril of his wavy red hair out of his face and noticed how pretty he was. If he wanted to, I bet he could probably model, but I don't know of any industries who would allow regular time cross dressers unless it was a one time thing, I thought. Oh well. Too bad though.
Hilo again. How did you like it, if you liked it at all? I would like to know if I should try and continue this. I'm not abandoning my other stories, I just had this chapter typed up for a while and wanted to know what you readers thought. I'll try and update if you do like it. Admittedly, I have not read the entire manga series and I most likely missed quite a few episodes of the anime since I don't remember too much of Ryoji, or maybe they didn't show too much of him anyway. Please review. Anon reviews are welcome.
(1) A low wooden table with a heating source underneath. There are two kinds, but in this case it's an electric kotatsu with the heater built into the table. During cold weather or season a futon or a heavy blanket is put in and then taken out to be a normal table during warmer seasons.
"The scientific theory I like best is that the rings of Saturn are composed entirely of lost airline luggage." -- Mark Russell