[Fanfiction][Drama, Romance] Fragile Clay: To Shape a Vessel (Part 1)
Kaoru Shimitsu
The heart long desires comforts touch
It guides thy actions, master of compassion
Hence yearnings guide thee overmuch
In absence of thy true loves satisfaction.
But what love be thine truly then?
Or what words so supple then defined this thing?
For it evades thine mortal ken
With as much substance as a departing dream.
Yet first gaze upon the bloom
Reveals thine folly and then thy mortal flaws.
Love sought then is love found too soon,
For from thy seeking is the evasions cause.
Pain is fleeting, truth comes to light;
Heart intemperate and thus deceiving tool.
For love's illusion then takes flight,
And thusly you have been made into the fool.
Weep not for shadows passed this way,
Look toward the dawn, and ready thine embrace.
Wipe clear the clouds of faulty grace
And prepare thy self for true love's divine face.
Fragile Clay: To Shape a Vessel
A Ranma Fanfiction Story
By: Kaoru Shimitsu
Based upon "The Fragile Clay" Universe
The air was crisp, scented lightly of after rain. The sky was a cool
blue pastel; poignant and pure. The feel of moisture hung heavily in
the air, reminder of the rain that came before. I waited in the
courtyard with my bag slung over my shoulder, standing beneath one of
various trees at Furenkin.
"Hiroshi!" She called. Turning, I saw her running towards me, Her
long chestnut hair bobbing lightly up and down with the rhythm of her
gait. She paused a few feet from me, a smile on her face. "You
waited for moi?"
I laughed lightly, rubbing the back of my head, "You're my
girlfriend, right? Why wouldn't I wait?" She is Suzuhara Mihoko, a
year three student at Furenkin. Slightly older than me, but I can't
complain too much. She's got legs to die for, as Daisuke would say.
She likes Gymnastics, not the rhythmic kind like Kodachi. She also
likes baseball. High spirited and energetic, it's fun to be around
her. She's also my girlfriend.
Her arm hooked mine as we began to walk, she leans near me
possessively, making me feel wanted. "Well, you're always wandering
off with Daisuke somewhere. It's nice, thanks Hiroshi-kun," She
smiles up at me, though I looked away red faced.
Waving my hand in midair, I grin lopsidedly, "It's nothing. So, no
practice today?" I know by her expression that something is troubling
her, her eyebrows furrow as she looks up at me.
"Of course not, Hiroshi-kun. I took the day off today, all the girls
know," She cocks her head sideways, "What, have you forgotten?" She is
cute, with a slightly upturned nose, delicate aristocratic cheekbones
and jaw line, with big brown eyes.
I stared for a long moment, recalling Sayuri's pool party a couple
months back. The enticing bikini that Mihoko had worn really showed
off her assets, a nice red and black number with a material that
looked slick and as if it should slide off of those pert round-
I chuckled lightly, shaking my head, "Of course I haven't forgotten
that we've been dating for three months," I think again in my head, it
was about the right time, though I wasn't sure that I remembered the
exact date. It doesn't matter, her smile lights up, affirming my
suspicions.
She's speechless a moment, a strange expression in her eyes. I
suppose she expected the usual rigmarole the other guys give when
their memories fail them. "Oh. Uhm, so... what were we going to do
tonight, then?"
I opened my mouth to respond when the wall next to us flashed briefly
out of the corner of my eye. Turning to look, I had only a moment to
yell before exploding rock collided with the soft parts of my face.
Somehow, the world was spinning and tilting, even though I could feel
ground against my back. I laughed lightly as I heard the
nonsensically typical reason for my concussion.
"Come back here, Ranma, and take your punishment!" The rasping voice
of Hibiki Ryouga belted out. I saw a blur pass me by as arms draped
around my chest, pulling me free of the rubble as I chuckled some
more. It was all so funny and regular. I think my nose was bleeding.
"Hiroshi-kun! Are you alright?" Mihoko's voice echoed like she was in
a well, making my head hurt.
Staring up at the blotchy, amorphous blob of my girlfriend's face, I
gave a halfhearted smile. "I'm fine, I think. Though can we get off
the merry-go-round?"
"Hit your head?" She sighed, her head shaking as she kisses my
forhead, "Guess they're back from China, huh?"
My vision started improving after a few minutes, "Yes and probably,
no telling with Ryouga."
The sun was suddenly blocked by an imposing figure wielding a
bokken. "So, the fiend Saotome has once more decided to curse the
shores of Tokyo with his malodious sorcery," The bokken is thrust at
Mihoko's face, "You there, maiden. Is the injury of your paramour a
result of Saotome's demonic hatred for the peasantry?"
Mihoko scowls, opening her mouth to speak before Tatewake Kunou
begins to answer his own question.
"Witness, heavens! That I, your humble servant, Tatewake Kunou will
bring punishment down upon the dark sorcerer for his disdain for the
common plebian masses! LET JUSTICE BE SWIFT AND SURE!" Kunou wasted no
time as he began rushing toward the Dojo.
Somewhere in the distance, I heard a faint, "...where am I *now*! Damn
you Ranma!..."
Mihoko helped me up, though I leaned on her heavily before I felt her
tense. I squeezed my right hand and her face turned crimson.
"Hiroshi, let go of my boob."
Staring down at my hand I squeeze again. I'm sure there was a stupid
grin on my face at the time as I thought, *Woah, they're really soft.*
The next moment, The world was full of Stars.
* * * *
Allow me to introduce myself. You see, my name is Miramoto Hiroshi.
I am sixteen, and go to Furenkin High School. I'm a generally average
student, and I have to confess that I sleep in classes occasionally.
Of course, some of you might've seen me around Furenkin. Usually
Daisuke or myself end up in some tough spots due to our mutual
acquaintance, a one Saotome Ranma. He means well, it's just his life
is crazy out of control most of the time.
My girlfriend, Mihoko, started dating me back in spring during
break. I guess she felt I was a charming public speaker, not that I
go out of my way to be in the spotlight. Really, I was tutoring her
in our English literature class and things kind of got heated between
the two of us.
My mom and dad are a little more atypical. I guess you could say
they're a good pair, they make a great team. Mom is the gung ho one,
and dad is a lot more reserved and patient. If not for mom, dad
would've been stuck in Japan rather than travelling the world.
For that matter, my sis probably wouldn't have met her late husband,
Connor, if my dad hadn't summered in Dublin one year. It's funny how
so many things seem to connect out of circumstance, ne?
Daisuke? He's my closest and dearest friend. A total egghead though,
not that I hold it against him. He and I have the same sort of tastes
in girls, we quip about it all the time, even though he's too scared
to really ask one out. Not that I can blame him with his home life
being what it is.
Nerima, where all of us live, is usually a pretty quiet place. Well,
up until about half a year ago when the Saotome's moved in. Since
then, there hasn't been a single night where some sort of insanity
hasn't happened.
I'm sure you've heard the stories. Crazed martial artists come
calling at all hours of the day, wacky races and contests with even
more bizarre forms of martial arts. We're a resilient people,
Nerimans. We've taken it all in stride, and it's kind of just part of
who we are nowadays.
Of course, it's been really quiet for a couple of weeks. Ranma and
the whole crew went to someplace in China to save Akane. Again.
But that's their story. This one's more about Mihoko and I.
Speaking of which... let's get back to that.
Where was I? Oh, right.
When I came to, Mihoko was holding an icepack to my face. I felt
sore all over, and I doubt it was entirely from the exploding wall
which Ryouga had launched at me unintentionally.
"I'm sorry, Hiroshi-kun! I over reacted." She gave a supportive
smile, trying to convey her apology to me.
"Nnngh, I'm confused, Miho-chan. I mean, you and I have made out
before, and I've copped a feel before, so why hit me?" My head still
had a loud hum, like the emergency alert system they play on the
television for tsunami warnings.
She scowled at me, crossing her arms beneath the offending bosom.
"Not in public we don't! Besides, I did apologize. Just be more
careful next time!" She looks at me sidelong, sort of a glare as I
shift on the couch, looking around. I was back at home, in the living
room.
"Well, I'd appreciate it if next time you warned me or something?
It's not like I haven't had a concussion before, but I'd prefer my
brain remain in some semblance of working order at least till I'm out
of my teen years," I pause as I notice that tension in her shoulders
again, sighing winsomely I grin. "I'm sorry for groping you in
public, Miho-chan. It will not happen again."
I lower my head to bow, and promptly fall off the couch and onto said
appendage. I'm not really sure how I did it, either. "Ow," I
vocalized with great profundity.
She pulled me back up onto the couch, though the room kept moving.
"Be still, you baka! Or I'm going to give you some permanent brain
damage to that fool head of yours!" She said it in the most endearing
manner, though. That kind of way that you say you're angry but that
you really found it funny?
"Yeah, how did I end up on my head again?" I said. Or I think it was
me, but it came from the left.
My mom came in with a tray of tea. She was dressed in western
clothing, some jungle green cargo Capri pants and a black tankini with
Alfred E. Newman on the front of it. Her hair tied up in pigtails on
either side of her head as she smiled at the two of us. On my side of
things, I saw three of her.
Mom has always looked young for her age, just like dad. She looked
like she could be my older sister, not my mother. She had a habit of
acting her apparent age, rather than her actual age.
"Hiro-kun, you've got to stop injuring yourself whenever your
girlfriend is around. It's bad luck, and I'd imagine rather painful,
dear," She set the tray on the coffee table, putting her hands on her
hips. She smiled at Mihoko, nodding informally at her. "Hello,
Mihoko-chan."
Mihoko stood and bowed formally, as she had every time she'd met my
mother, "Hello again, Miramoto-sama."
Mom scrunched her nose again, holding up a finger in mid air before
wagging it at Mihoko, "For the last time, Mihoko-chan. Call me Yui."
My girlfriend bowed again, deeper this time, "Sumimasen, Miramoto-
sama... I just don't think it's appropriate," She kept her bow for a
moment before standing again, being sure not to look up at my mother.
Mom heaved an exasperated sigh, throwing her hands up, "I don't get
your taste, Hiro-kun. I really don't go for the traditional sort.
I've got some great girlfriends that you could-"
"MOM!" I yelled, groaning as my fingers tangled in my short russet
hair, my head a series of taiko drums. "Seriously, Mihoko is RIGHT
THERE!" I pointed, as if mom couldn't see her to begin with.
Mom looked at her again, as if seeing her for the first time. "Well,
yes. I've noticed that. Just standing like a scarecrow in my living
room." Mom smiled again at Mihoko, putting a hand on her shoulder.
Mihoko stiffens and looks like she's about to cry.
"Oh, don't be such a baby. Would you like some tea, dear?" She kept
her hand there a moment, her smile seeming a little facile. She was
probably thinking whether she should be nicer since we'd been dating
three months.
"H-hai!" Mihoko said it pretty hastily, leaning down to fetch the tea
to free herself from my mom's arm. Sometimes I forget that mom can be
kinda scary, even when she's not trying to be.
My girlfriend pours the tea and hands it to me. It's bitter with the
taste of medicine, the heat hits my stomach and diffuses, warming my
body throughout. I taste the faint aftertaste of raspberries. I
mouth my pleasure at the flavor as I sink into the couch, savoring the
warming sensation.
Mihoko holds her own cup as she watches me, her eyes as big as a
mouse that's just seen an owl. She turns her head almost woodenly to
my mother.
She tilts her head sideways in a coy expression. "Don't be silly,
why would I poison my own baby boy? Drink up, dear."
Mihoko nods numbly before carefully sipping her tea, her eyes widen
as she looks down into the cup, "It's good," She says, half shocked.
She tosses hot tea all over my lap when mother claps suddenly, "I'm
so pleased you like it!" My mother says in as formal a tone as she can
muster.
I screamed bloody murder as one of my favorite body parts got seared
by the tea. I grabbed one of the coverings for the couch to wipe off
and then froze about as solid as Mihoko was. Despite the pain in my
groin, I look at my mother, who has merely a displeased expression on
her face.
I let go of the cloth, and almost instantly my mother produces a hand
cloth of her own. For a moment, I think she's going to take care of
it herself and I open my mouth to protest the embarrassment before she
hands me the cloth. "You should be more careful, Mihoko-chan.
Hiroshi is my only son you know."
My girlfriend was still stuck in the same pose as when she threw the
cup. If I listened hard enough, I could have probably heard her heart
beating. I dabbed at my groin, my back to my girlfriend and mother,
my other hand occupied with my own cup of tea. I winced periodically...
at least it wasn't boiling hot.
"H-hai! Gomen Nasai!" Mihoko squeeked out, shaking a bit as she bowed
formally to my mother yet again.
Mom just stared at her for a long moment, one arm hanging down lazily
while the other was on one hip. She gave me a half lidded, worried
expression and sighed. "Dinner will be on at seven, Hiro-kun. If
Mihoko-chan is staying, she is welcome join us."
Mihoko seemed to deflate in relief, "Domou, Miramo-"
"Provided she can call me by my name, that is. If she wants to call
your dad Miramoto-sama, that's his business, but she's been dating you
for three months now and I'd appreciate it if she at least considered
my wishes. I mean, how am I supposed to be friends with her if she's
so up tight all the time, Hiro-kun?" Mom made a pouty face. It would
be strange on a woman her age, except... well, she doesn't look her age,
after all.
"I'd love to be friends with her," She turns to look at Mihoko again
raising her voice, "OI! YOU HEAR THAT IN THERE?" She yells, one hand
cupped to her mouth to amplify it.
I give my mother a flat look, "Mom, Mihoko isn't deaf and she isn't
hearing impaired." I sip my tea a bit more as my mom rubs her head in
consternation.
"I- I'm not Yui-sama." My girlfriend looks as pale as bleach, her
hands like vice-grips on the fabric of her school skirt. She looked
ready for a heart attack.
Mom stared at her for about a minute and a half. I counted. She had
this expression on her face, like Mihoko had just grown a mushroom
right in the middle of her forehead. A huge purple polka dotted one.
Then mom laughed rather raucously, patting Mihoko on the shoulder
with her hand again. "Okay, that'll have to do," She turned her eyes
to me, she wore the look of the stern disciplinarian on her face. "Do
not be late for dinner."
Her eyes turned back to Mihoko, "Enjoy your night, dear," And then
mom turned and left, her house slippers soundless as she departed.
I finished my tea, setting the cup down as my head began to clear.
"You know, you don't have to be stark raving terrified of my mom.
She's really nice if you give her a chance."
My girlfriend turned to me slowly, her face some mixture of
astonished and angry, "Your mother was Shinobi! And daughter of a clan
leader! How can I *NOT* be terrified of her!"
"You know, when I told you that, I thought we'd agreed you wouldn't
go around yelling it?" I sighed, rubbing the back of my head a bit.
"Look, I don't know, Mihoko. She WAS, I mean, emphasis on WAS. Mom's
side doesn't exactly come to the dinner parties."
Mihoko makes a fervent searching gesture with both her hands, "She's
still-!"
"My mom?" I supply in interruption, giving Mihoko a stern look.
"Yeah. She's my mom. She's retired, for the most part."
She nods, making an offering gesture with one hand. "See! It's that
for the MOST part that makes me want to- to- run away whenever she
starts being all nice and chummy with me, Hiroshi!" She paces back and
forth a moment, trying to use up the nervous energy.
I looked at her with a pleading expression, tangling my fingers
together as I leaned forward, my elbows resting atop my knees as I
spoke, "Mihoko, if you aren't comfortable with Mom, maybe we should
take things a bit slower. I mean, she's my mom. You're going to have
to get used to her eventually."
She stopped pacing, turning to look at me, she opened her mouth to
speak before shutting it quickly, biting her lip as she apparently
reconsidered what she was going to say. "You're right. I'm being
silly, I've met her several times now and each time I act like a
jellyfish," She puts a hand to her forehead.
"I just don't understand her, Hiroshi. I mean, I thought I would,
because you told me so much about her before. But she doesn't make
sense to me. Why does she snub tradition like that? I mean, it's not
appropriate for me to call her by her first name," She looks down at
the tea before she steps around the coffee table, sliding onto the
couch next to me and putting her hands on mine.
"Mom is Mom. It's just who she is. She makes it pretty obvious that
her and tradition don't always get along, but if she were being mean
to you, you'd know it Miho-chan," My voice took on a tender tone, I
turned to look at Mihoko's face, smiling to encourage her.
She shook her head, seeming to miss my encouragement. "I guess it'll
take a lot of getting used to," She leaned into me, her hair smelled
faintly like saffron rice and cedar. I draped an arm around her and
squeezed her lightly.
"Well, we should get going," I paused, amending my sentiment, "Urr,
after I change pants."
The night was young yet, and we had some celebrating to do.