Hi there! Thanks for pre-reading for me. In this one, I'm looking specifically for these things:
- length (too long? too short?)
- style (does the journal writing seem at all like Ryoga wrote it? Style/inflection?)
- characterization (did I bastardize them too much without explaination?)
I really hope you like it, and apologize for the lack of indentation. Hey, what're ya gonna do?
I can't figger 'em out. So, here we go!
Note: Words connected by hyphens indicate words crossed out on the physical paper (e.g., --this-is-a-spelling-error-- )
Three months ago, a group of students from the Chie no Hikari Academy, while on a trip to Shinobazu Pond, came across an old leather-bound journal jammed deep into the trunk of an old tree. The flimsy pages and worn leather were wrapped tightly in a yellow and black bandanna, and the thick bark and persisting structure surrounding the gash had protected the bundle from the elements. Somehow, word of its discovery reached Nerima.
Today, it arrives wrapped in brown paper in the hands of Kuonji Ukyo. Her trembling hands, spotted with age, tear away the paper. She runs her fingertips softly over the cloth, then pulls it away. Wincing at the painful crackles that arise as the cover is lifted, she sees the first section of writing on the back of the cover in gold ink. She settles a pair of reading glasses on her nose to examine this small, delicate print.
I found this in a little shop downtown, and thought maybe it could help you keep track of all the interesting places you end up. Best wishes, and happy birthday. Tendo Akane.
Ukyo smiles briefly. Thoughtfulness from Akane; unexpected at times, but not as unusual a gesture as one might imagine. Her tired eyes begin to scan down the lines of text, penned with large, clumsy strokes.
October
Akane gave me this journal several months ago. I kept myself from writing in it because she gave it to me, and I was afraid that I would mess it up, like I mess up most things. The thought of me writing something worthless in this, or misspelling words or having to tear out pages because I wrote something stupid was more than I could take. I still feel this way. I have spent two hours thinking out this alone, because I didn't want to mess up. I checked all of my words; I said them out loud three times each to make sure that they were all right.
For these reasons, I resolve only to write important things in this journal. I will write about her, because someday, when I finally get the courage to tell her what I feel, how much I love her and want to be honest with her, I can just give her this book when my tongue fails me, as I know it will. If I never steel myself that far, then I suppose journal is for my memory only.
To whoever is reading this: please don't take anything I say in here lightly. Don't laugh or I will probably hurt you, no matter who you are. Maybe I'll hit you, and then you'll be sorry. If I can't, then I'll just be sad, and if you're decent, you'll join me. Either way, I will be hurting ten times more than you because you'll have uncovered something only for me and Akane.
That's all I have to say tonight. I need to get things clear in my head first. Writing down my thoughts is new to me. It will take time.
December
Last night I got lost again. I had managed to stay near the Tendo residence for over two weeks, when finally, as it had to, it ended. Sometimes, when I've been away from her for a long time, it actually starts to fade a bit. If I don't look at the photo I have of her in my wallet, it fades even more. Last March, I hadn't seen her for two months, and I actually forgot what color her wallpaper was. I forgot , even though I've spent so many hours staring at the pattern rimming the top, trying not to fall asleep just because I'm next to her and I don't want to have it end too early. Even as a pig, I know who she is, and how much I love her. I always hated it when the wallpaper faded from that dark gray green color to pale yellow, because I knew that it meant the sun was coming up, and soon she'd be awake and moving and I'd be on the floor.
(The following page was found in poor condition. Some areas were scratched over savagely with ink, though a few words were still legible through the strokes. Jagged edges and heavy wrinkle marks betrayed that it had been torn out and crumpled. However, it had also been meticulously smoothed and lined up with the remnants still in the book, then attached with cellophane tape.)
-I-can't-have-her!--Why-can't-I-just-say-that?--She's-never-going-to-come-with-me-because-she's-in-love-with-somebody-else.--Why can't I just---
The minute I see her, things stir up again, even if I spent all of that quiet time on the road convincing myself that there's no possible way that we can be together? She's got a fiancé, and I'm only her friend. But that can't be! She didn't give Ranma a birthday present, but she gave me this journal, plus a box of cookies, which are still sitting in my pack, looking just like they did when I received them. Ranma would joke about her inability to cook, but I tried them anyway. Sure, it turned my stomach, but I ate them for her. I tried one right in front of her, and I forced a smile, and after I swallowed it, tarry and bitter as it was, I said, "They're good. Thank you, Akane." And she smiled at me, and then I was almost able to tell her. I got so close, but then some idiots came running in, making me angry and making me fight. Why can't they just go away? Why can't she just see that I love her? I don't mind her faults because there's so much goodness in her that it makes up for them. I could cook for us, and then she could lead me places. Together, we would be so happy that our tempers would probably go away. And what else is there after that?
The only thing I'm still afraid of is the pig. She'll hate me if I tell her that. She'll call me "pervert." (I don't know how Ranma can stand her calling him that. I would die.) The only thing I can think to do is to tell her about the curse after I tell her how much I love her. Maybe she'll forgive me. The first thing I have to do is find my way back to Nerima. I'm going to tell her when I get there. I have to. Time is running out. Genma and Soun are pushing them, really pushing them to get married.
April
I was walking by the apricot and plum groves in Korakuen, when something finally came together in my head. So now, I'm sitting on a stepping stone, and I'm sure that people are looking at me. But that doesn't matter right now. I finally realized something that I've been reaching for ever since I knew I loved Akane, but never been able to reach until a few hours ago.
I'd better put the story in here now so I don't forget a bit of it. I was walking by the lake yesterday near the big, drooping cherry tree when I saw a little boy sitting by the water's edge. His mother was nearby, socializing with a few other women. I was bored, so I watched him sailing his paper boat. It was floating along nicely until a few blossoms from the tree were carried over by a breeze and knocked into the sail. Immediately, it began to weave and finally, it flipped over onto its side. The boy could have easily stepped in and retrieved it (it was barely up to his ankles near the shore side), but instead he scowled and began throwing stones at the pathetic ship. His mother came over then, and led him away by the hand, but I couldn't take my eyes off of the boat, now pinned underwater by the heap of rocks.
The boy quickly grew angry with something that had once brought him joy because it didn't do what he had wanted it to do, and he became discouraged. As I watched the waves lap at the white underwater blur, I began to think about Akane. Eventually, the boat was fully disintegrated, but I continued to think about it until now, when I figured out the link.
Can it be that I am starting to resent her? I admit, I have been feeling this way recently. I haven't been back for nearly four months, and for the first time in a long while, I watched spring come to Tokyo. Last year, I was in Paris at this time; the year before that, I was near Cairo. The blossoms are beautiful, but at the moment, they don't remind me of Akane... and I'm glad. I still love her, don't I?
If I'm not driven by my love for Akane, then what will drive me? If I can't lull myself to sleep with thoughts of her and her hair and her scent, then will I ever be able to sleep again? I am so endlessly confused! When I go one way, I suddenly feel the pull to go back to where I was. Good god, I feel weak. I've felt weak for a long time now. Wasn't love supposed to make people feel stronger to face living? It's not working for me. I thought it was figured out a moment ago, but I think I've lost it again. I'm trying to recall that great realization I had come to with that boy and his boat, but it seems so much smaller now than it did before. God, this is miserable. I want to be with Akane now.
(The next page is filled with a colored pencil sketch of a face. It is undoubtedly Akane, but the picture's details are inaccurate. The hair is short and dark, the facial shape is correct, but the features are, as Ukyo recalls, closer to perfect than life had dictated. The face staring out of the book is smiling gently with soft pink petal-perfect lips. The eyes glow with an adoring halo rather than their usual spunky fire. The artist had taken the care to add tiny distinguishing flaws, such as the scar she carried on her chin from a long-forgotten bicycling accident. In spite of such additions, this beautiful, dainty work of art differs from the original model.)
June (early)
I'm home. It feels just like home. I'm in the Tendo Dojo right now, and I have to write how everything is, so that if I'm ever someplace else and I start to forget her or to think that what I'm feeling isn't real, I'll remember this. At three o'clock this morning, I got out of bed, climbed onto the counter and ran the sink until it got hot. While she was fresh in my mind, I went out back by the koi pond and by my flashlight, drew a picture of her just as she looks every day. When I get a chance, I'll go back and fix it up so that she's just right. Maybe I can find something to color it in with.
Wouldn't you know it! When I arrived, I got splashed before I even got through the front gate. I nudged my things behind a trash can, and then trotted in. Akane saw me quickly; she picked me up, swung me around, and hugged me. She was so happy. For the rest of the night, I felt fantastic. She fed me dinner and when she watched a movie, I curled up beside her and she put her arm around me. I don't know where Ranma was, but he wasn't there, and that was enough for me. She went to sleep, and I stayed awake for a long time, just listening to her breathe and watching her eyelids twitch when she was dreaming. She smiled a little bit in her sleep a few times, and it was beautiful and innocent.
I fell asleep eventually, but before I did, I had a thought. Maybe, if Akane does end up marrying Ranma, she still won't be happy. Her honor would keep her tied to his side, and her fears of mortality wouldn't let her take more drastic measures. If that happened, maybe somehow I could be some silent partner anyway. I could get somebody (maybe the old ghoul?) to make me invisible. The Amazons have potions and spells for everything! Or I could try astral projection, like those men in India I saw levitating and lying on beds of nails. That way, I could keep her safe but not having her feel the pain of knowing she was cheating on Ranma. But she really would be. She'd be with me, and I'd care about her. I wouldn't take her for granted. She'd love me more than him. It could be like that Phantom of the Opera, but instead of teaching her to sing, I could just watch her quietly, sleeping like she is now. Maybe on bold nights, I could even just reach out - not with hoof, but with hand - and touch her hair. Maybe I could reach through and give her beautiful dreams.
That would be enough for me. Just giving her a little bit of anonymous love makes me a happy pig, and it would make me an even happier man.
June (late)
I can't take it anymore! She was holding Ranma's hand today! They were walking down the street like that! I can't stand it! I swear, I'm starting to hate her. Why is it that when I love, I hate? I love Akane. I hate that I love her. It's the heaviest load anyone ever had to carry, to love somebody who so obviously loves someone else. I don't belong with her, no matter how much I will ever love her. Oh, god, she is life and energy and peace, and I'm nothing but a storm and a mess.
I heard a rumor today that they're going to consent to marry soon. From what I saw, it's true. Oh, god, I have to get away from her. I don't want to hurt her. I don't want to poison her with my presence anymore, and I'm too damn scared to say anything real, anyway. It's so confusing, because I want Akane body heart and soul, and I want nothing more than to keep her safe... but the best way to keep her and her powerful beautiful unconditional kindness intact is to keep her away from horrible bad poisonous people like me. It's like if I had hands that turn grass brown and rotten just with touch, and there was a perfect flower and I wanted nothing more in the world (not food, not money, not power) nothing more than to touch the petals. Any sign of affection could bring comfort, only if things didn't happen like they'd happened in the past. But I know she only wants me as a friend and things are destined to so the same way, so I'd be wise just to run now.
Oh, god, why? She started it unknowingly. Why couldn't she just leave me alone? I was much less miserable before I knew that she was warm and her hands were soft. Why couldn't she just leave me alone? Why?
Would I have been happier without that moment? Even now, that moment where she picked me up as a piglet and kissed my bruises is one of my only good memories, especially with a female. Ranma always tricking me with those dresses and different hairstyles; all I know is that women hurt me and make me look dumb with my bleeding nose and make me cry and lie to myself and do things I know are stupid and that I don't want to do. I can't stop them!
All I want and all I ever wanted was to be happy and make other people happy in any small ways that I can. I do it by getting cats down out of trees for little kids and by bringing presents to my favorite people from the places I go and trying to fight for people who have been harmed. How many times have I cried out in the name of Akane, a girl who is mistreated by her fiance in so many ways? He calls her names, makes her cry. How am I repaid? She unknowingly visits hell on my head, making me cry and lie and break things and feel dirty and I can't stop that either.
I'm leaving. I'm leaving, and if I never return to Nerima, it'll be too soon.
November
I almost threw away this stupid journal today. I went back and read all that crap I wrote. It's messed up, all of it. Especially that part where I'm whining about how much I love Akane. That, and the part where I'm gushing about how great it is to be with her. What an idiot.
The worst part is that, even after I knew they were going to marry, I still carried a torch for her. The other worst part is that, although I haven't found myself in Nerima again, a piece of me (probably my heart - damn thing) wants to go back and see how they are.
I hated that cursed spring because it twisted my body, pulled me under and tried to drown me, and I hate people for the same reason. I can't be with them, but something inside me won't let me turn away from them forever. Why can't I at least hate them completely?
As for that whole brown-grass thing, who knows? Maybe it's worn out, and the only thing keeping me from going back and finding a loving, willing Akane is fear. I could test it out on somebody worthless, but... in truth, I don't want to hurt anyone. Besides, I bet the dull grass doesn't want me any more than the flower.
If it's said that goodness and the good people love us unconditionally, isn't it so that the Bad People do, too? Pawns are just as crucial for their side in winning, and even if it's not real love, won't I be given plenty of gifts to get me there anyway? It's looking nicer and nicer over there. It's very tempting take what I want. Very tempting.
December
Now that I think about it, Akane wouldn't have brushed me off outright, but she would have been unhappy and uncomfortable. I don't need that.
I think what's got me so clear is the night of omens. I'm someplace near Greece now. It was all late last night, and even though I usually wouldn't believe in this, I did see visions. It wasn't even because of the retsina I'd been drinking, either. It started I was lying on the sand, exhausted. I was stinking with sweaty grief, and looking up at the stars felt like sort of an inner sigh. Like I was melting myself into them one by one, joining them to shine and look down on everyone else.
When I looked at the moon, there was a silver face glowing down at me from the clouds the moon was hiding behind. It was a fox and it looked at me. It was bright and cold and very, very beautiful. It was looking down, but it never saw me, really. It was all alone, but I don't remember if it was contented or not. I stared at it for awhile, but then I got so scared, because I thought I was going crazy. I closed my eyes and let the wind whip at my face. It made my tears
(dripping from eyes to cheekbone to neck) trace freezing-cold lines, sobering me up a little. I cried, but only a drop here and there when I needed it.
When I opened them, the moon was at a different part of the sky, and the small silver face had darkened and grown into a wolf's gray head. The eyes were silvery blue, with a black nose set underneath. The whole effect, especially the cock of the eyes and the widely grinning mouth was chillingly evil. I can't remember ever seeing anything so devious.
At this point, I sat up and looked at the black water, nervous. I think that the first vision, so sharp and clear, was telling me that I would be alone forever. No surprises there. The second affected me much more deeply. I begged the ocean and the wolf that, if it was to be so, at least give me the gifts along with the suffering, If I have to be a lone wolf, then let me also be beautiful, cunning, quick, strong, independent. Let people worship and wonder about the magic in me. I saw a wolf once, just a silhouette loping along, and I was so eager to run alongside it. But before I could drop what I was doing and look closer, the wolf just grinned at me sickly and danced away. It's happening all over again.
I just wanted a little prize to go with all of the struggle. That leering mouth promised that this would never be. This was her cunning, and such an idea it was. Get somebody else (me) to take the pain of being always alone, and she could take all of the glamours.
Then, just before I passed out when the sun came up, I saw a blur of yellow light tinged with green around the edges bobbing slowly on the surface of the water. At the moment, this is the least understandable, but the most threatening. I see yellow as life and vibrancy, but green as some cancer (physical? spiritual?), robbing me of health and happiness. It's seeping in, and the entire group visions means death, loneliness. I am a square peg, and all I can see stretching out for miles, as far as the eye can see, is an entire shore of round holes. I don't know what it's all for, but it's all made me realize that I need to either take charge and find joy on my own, or just stop bothering and die. I'm going to try my best to do the former.
August
Well, that's it, then. It's been eight months, and I've tried to find happiness. I looked in art museums, and the suburbs, and in cafes, in homeless shelters, whorehouses, high-rises, on the rich French Riviera and in the poverty of Calcutta. I've served my community, robbed my community, tried cocaine, tried a root beer float, been led (literally) by the blind, been put in handcuffs, been an artist, a temporary parent, a vegetarian, and a religious guide; I've wrapped blankets around kids who've seen hell in their own homes and I've driven fifty-eight miles over the posted speed limit in a residential area. I still feel like an empty glass.
Nothing has brought me deep thrill. Everything has left me feeling like I need more. The myth was wrong; Hope did escape the box, and it was squelched. I'm going to die very soon. Nobody will miss me. If any of my old "friends" hears about it, I'll get that ten second "wow, I can't believe he's gone" afterthought, and then I'll die completely. Not even a memory. Akane will never hear about how I wanted her for so long. It's just as well.
I can't believe it, but I still love her. Not with as much fervor as before; this time it feels more solid and almost pure. I don't rush as much with this judgment. I think I really do love her this time. I looked back through everything I've written, and I realize that I've sloughed off both the false over-loving, and the false hatred. I love her as a person, as a woman, and as the best friend I've ever had. I received word that she and Ranma did, in fact, marry, and that's when I came to know true love - something that cannot be overcome by anything, even the ending of a dream. She is safe and happy and that makes me feel good. She is cared for.
Why couldn't she love me the way I love her? Because I am Ryoga Hibiki, and somewhere along the line, I was cursed. It's deep in my blood; I got it from my parents, my friends, but most of it from myself. That fox in the moon so long ago (and oh my god, what was in the wine that night?! Let's not forget that I had to get some kind beachcombers to drive me to a youth hostel because I was standing naked on an overturned garbage can swearing at the sky. Sometimes fun ain't so fun... ) said that I was the only one to save me, and the only one to love me, and she was right.
I don't know yet where I want to die, but I know where I want to leave this journal. In a long-ago fit of rage, I kicked a tree next to Ueno Hill, leaving quite an injury. It is next to Shinobazu Pond, a place endeared to me. I am recording the things about it that were special to me; this is my memorial, and is a testament to my life and present mindset. Shinobazu means "without patience," which is a problem I and many of my close friends have struggled with. The temple to the lute played by the goddess Benten is beautiful; the original Benten's Hall, I learned, was burnt down in an air raid, but replaced with an acceptable copy. The embankments were once lined with teahouses where lovers could watch the lotus plants in the pond. Over the ages, it has been a racecourse, a paddy field, and a place of meditation. The nearby Ueno Zoo is famous for its giant pandas (none of which can write, thankfully). There is a boating lake, and the south section retains those famous lotus plants from so long ago. Many changes, and yet it still remains well loved. This is what I had wanted to be.
So why do I have to die? Because I am only at a crossroad now. I am balanced very tenuously in the center. Soon, thought, I will have to choose whether to fall to the left or to the right, because something will topple me over. Either the path of depression, resentment, and anger towards humankind or the path that I walked with Akane (or without her, as is now clear); false hope, overblown dreams, and shining lies. No matter how well-meaning, all lies are dirty. The more I love someone, the more I seem to die and cry and lie and steal and the dirtier I feel. The more I know I am destined to remain alone forever and ever with no cunning, beauty, life, and certainly without that petite, kind-hearted girl I once knew in Nerima.
This is the last entry I will be making in this journal, and it shows me as a true man and how I want to be remembered. Not as a wrathful youth or a love-struck young pup. Not for my depression or my fighting skills. Certainly not as a cursed half-man. I have lived for an obsession, but I died for a love. Through it all, I have always been...
Ryoga Hibiki.
The rest of the pages were blank.
Ukyo slowly re-read the last paragraph, then closed the journal. What she found in the yellowed pages of the journal was a story of love that she had underestimated over the years.
Click here for the wishful thinking super sappy happy ending.
Click here for the realistic not-as-happy psuedo-poignant just-as-sappy bordering on unfinished ending.
