TEARS OF JOY
by rosch
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma 1/2 or the characters used therein. They are the property of their respective owners, and I do not make any claim to their ownership.
Chapter I
I can hear him crying. Ranma. The strong, determined, honour-bound martial artist is crying on the roof and it hurts so much to hear his pain. And I can't do anything but listen to him sob, and listen to him whimper, and listen to him pour out years of torment and sadness.
After all the fights, after all the battles, the invincible Ranma is broken. Each and every day of challenges, of being fought over like a trophy by his fiancées, and the countless, countless insults he takes from anybody and everybody, they have finally destroyed whatever was left of his hope and happiness.
Poor Ranma. I wish I could just comfort him, somehow. As if I could just hold in my arms and tell him it's okay, and that he doesn't have to be so lonely. Sometimes, when I see the masks of confusion and loneliness on his face, I try to reach out and let him know that someone here still cares about him.
That someone still cares about him enough to worry about him. To be and do the things that provide what little comfort I can give him. And here I am now, sitting on my bed unable to do anything. What can I do? This feeling of helplessness is more than I can bear, more than I can understand. I just... I just don't want him to hurt anymore.
But what can a girl like me do? Nothing, I can't do anything, but feel my tears roll down my cheeks, and hear my own quiet sobs in the darkness of my room. I'm crying because I don't know what to do. I'm crying because I don't do anything to comfort him. I'm crying because... because he suffers so much, and I just want to see him happy.
I stare at my own shadow on the floor, illuminated by the crescent moon in the night sky. There are little splotches of darkness from the tears I try so desperately not to shed. It reminds me so much of Ranma's life. Of the same patches of sorrow he must have.
The tears won't stop, not as long as he continues to suffer. Not as long as those deep-blue eyes still reflect his sadness. Not as long as those heavy broad shoulders continue to sag from the burden he carries. The one he carries all alone.
Oh each morning I pray that things will change. And each night I cry because things will never change. Each day is another day of torment for him, another day of anguish, another day of the endless days of loneliness.
The loneliness... I try so hard to think of a time, when the smile on his face is genuine, when the laugher comes from joy, rather than from despair. But, I can't. I can't think of any memory, and each time I try the sadness pains my heart, and the tears continue to fall... a tear for each day without a happy memory.
"Hey, don't cry..."
I'm a bit startled to hear his voice. I must've been so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't even notice his shadow from the window. Brushing the tears from my eyes, I look up to face him, not caring of how pitiful I look from my crying.
"I'm... I'm not crying."
He steps off the window and sits on my bed next to me. I can feel the warmth radiating from him and without realizing it I shuffle closer to him. Looking at his war-torn face, I can see the redness in his eyes, knowing that he too must've been crying long and hard.
"I'm sorry." He looks at me with eyes now apologetic. Those same blue eyes that hold nothing but honesty and sincerity, and that I've come to trust so much. "I don't want to make you sad, either."
Even when he's feeling his pain, he still cares about how I feel and he doesn't want to share his sorrow with me. How can he be so uncaringly selfish like that? How can he suffer so much, yet still care so much about those around him? As the thoughts race through my head, I can't feel anything but even more compassions and sadness for him, and I clutch his arm and bury my face into his chest.
I can feel him tense up at my sudden action, but slowly relax as he wraps his arms around me. I can hear his heart beating as I sob and cry into his worn Chinese shirt. I'm a bit surprised that he hasn't let go as he usually does, but I take comfort in this feeling of security. The feeling of being enveloped in strong, muscular, yet loving arms.
After what seems like an eternity has passed, I feel myself calming down, the torrent of thoughts of sadness slowly subsiding away. Then I look up at him again, at those now caring, compassionate eyes, and say what my heart is feeling, "thank you, Ranma."
"Anything for you," he gazes warmly at me, and smiles weakly, "Kasumi."
A/N: Could you guess who it was before the end? I have updated this chapter, fixed some spelling mistakes, and added a bit more writing.
Where I will be going form here, I really have no idea. This is my first attempt at writing an actual fanfiction, so please bear with me. Anyways, I will try to update as soon as I can, and all constructive criticism/thoughts are appreciated.
by rosch
Disclaimer: I do not own Ranma 1/2 or the characters used therein. They are the property of their respective owners, and I do not make any claim to their ownership.
Chapter I
I can hear him crying. Ranma. The strong, determined, honour-bound martial artist is crying on the roof and it hurts so much to hear his pain. And I can't do anything but listen to him sob, and listen to him whimper, and listen to him pour out years of torment and sadness.
After all the fights, after all the battles, the invincible Ranma is broken. Each and every day of challenges, of being fought over like a trophy by his fiancées, and the countless, countless insults he takes from anybody and everybody, they have finally destroyed whatever was left of his hope and happiness.
Poor Ranma. I wish I could just comfort him, somehow. As if I could just hold in my arms and tell him it's okay, and that he doesn't have to be so lonely. Sometimes, when I see the masks of confusion and loneliness on his face, I try to reach out and let him know that someone here still cares about him.
That someone still cares about him enough to worry about him. To be and do the things that provide what little comfort I can give him. And here I am now, sitting on my bed unable to do anything. What can I do? This feeling of helplessness is more than I can bear, more than I can understand. I just... I just don't want him to hurt anymore.
But what can a girl like me do? Nothing, I can't do anything, but feel my tears roll down my cheeks, and hear my own quiet sobs in the darkness of my room. I'm crying because I don't know what to do. I'm crying because I don't do anything to comfort him. I'm crying because... because he suffers so much, and I just want to see him happy.
I stare at my own shadow on the floor, illuminated by the crescent moon in the night sky. There are little splotches of darkness from the tears I try so desperately not to shed. It reminds me so much of Ranma's life. Of the same patches of sorrow he must have.
The tears won't stop, not as long as he continues to suffer. Not as long as those deep-blue eyes still reflect his sadness. Not as long as those heavy broad shoulders continue to sag from the burden he carries. The one he carries all alone.
Oh each morning I pray that things will change. And each night I cry because things will never change. Each day is another day of torment for him, another day of anguish, another day of the endless days of loneliness.
The loneliness... I try so hard to think of a time, when the smile on his face is genuine, when the laugher comes from joy, rather than from despair. But, I can't. I can't think of any memory, and each time I try the sadness pains my heart, and the tears continue to fall... a tear for each day without a happy memory.
"Hey, don't cry..."
I'm a bit startled to hear his voice. I must've been so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't even notice his shadow from the window. Brushing the tears from my eyes, I look up to face him, not caring of how pitiful I look from my crying.
"I'm... I'm not crying."
He steps off the window and sits on my bed next to me. I can feel the warmth radiating from him and without realizing it I shuffle closer to him. Looking at his war-torn face, I can see the redness in his eyes, knowing that he too must've been crying long and hard.
"I'm sorry." He looks at me with eyes now apologetic. Those same blue eyes that hold nothing but honesty and sincerity, and that I've come to trust so much. "I don't want to make you sad, either."
Even when he's feeling his pain, he still cares about how I feel and he doesn't want to share his sorrow with me. How can he be so uncaringly selfish like that? How can he suffer so much, yet still care so much about those around him? As the thoughts race through my head, I can't feel anything but even more compassions and sadness for him, and I clutch his arm and bury my face into his chest.
I can feel him tense up at my sudden action, but slowly relax as he wraps his arms around me. I can hear his heart beating as I sob and cry into his worn Chinese shirt. I'm a bit surprised that he hasn't let go as he usually does, but I take comfort in this feeling of security. The feeling of being enveloped in strong, muscular, yet loving arms.
After what seems like an eternity has passed, I feel myself calming down, the torrent of thoughts of sadness slowly subsiding away. Then I look up at him again, at those now caring, compassionate eyes, and say what my heart is feeling, "thank you, Ranma."
"Anything for you," he gazes warmly at me, and smiles weakly, "Kasumi."
A/N: Could you guess who it was before the end? I have updated this chapter, fixed some spelling mistakes, and added a bit more writing.
Where I will be going form here, I really have no idea. This is my first attempt at writing an actual fanfiction, so please bear with me. Anyways, I will try to update as soon as I can, and all constructive criticism/thoughts are appreciated.