August 14 1999
"Here he is," a voice called, and a light flashed in his eyes. Quatre was pale with relief, the worried frown fading from his brow as Ryoga looked up at him, confused. "Why did you go so far away?" the young pilot asked, helping Ryoga pull himself up and leading him by the hand. "This is no night for going on a walk."
"I was trying to find the pantry," Ryoga mumbled, his cheeks coloring with shame now that he knew he was safe. He had promised to be no trouble, and he had already gotten lost, on the first day!
"You really do get lost, don't you?" Quatre gasped. Ryoga nodded miserably.
"It's been happening ever since I was little," he mumbled. "That's why I always kept my backpack with me. I never knew when I might have to break camp. I'd just find myself in Timbuktu or Paris or someplace, and not remember how I got there."
"Wow, that must've been really hard for you," Quatre said thoughtfully, leading him into the house. The other pilots had all returned to the cabin, and were waiting for them. Wufei glowered at Ryoga as he stepped into the welcoming warmth.
"I brought someone to see you," Wufei said solemnly. Quatre led Ryoga over to the fire and helped him get settled on the couch, where a wrinkled old crone was waiting.
"C-Cologne?' Ryoga gasped.
"Silly pig boy," the old crone answered. "My great-grandmother died a long time ago."
"Y-you're... you're Shampoo?" Ryoga cried. "What happened to you?"
"It's been a long time since we last saw each other," the withered old woman said. "You haven't changed at all, Ryoga."
"So you really do know him?" Wufei asked, his manner gentle and respectful as he addressed the elderly Amazon. She nodded in answer, then addressed Ryoga again.
"Ryoga, do you even know what year it is?" the old woman asked.
"And you speak so much better, too," Ryoga stuttered through chattering teeth.
"What year is it?" the old woman repeated.
"1998." Ryoga noticed everyone around him face faulting. "What did I say?"
"Ryoga, it's been more than 200 years since you vanished from Nerima."
"Wh- ...What?!?" Ryoga yelped. Shampoo nodded at him, and he suddenly heard the rushing sound of his pulse in his ears, and blackness reached up to cover him...
"He fainted!" Quatre cried as he and Duo jumped up to catch Ryoga before he could slump to the ground.
"He's feverish," Duo announced. "That little jaunt outside probably didn't help him any."
"He always did get lost so easily," Shampoo said, smiling a little fondly. "I often wondered how he managed to survive his wandering. Now I suspect that his talent for getting lost may have rescued him from the calamity that befell Nerima. I wonder, though, how he managed to get lost in time..." she mused. She jumped down from the couch to feel Ryoga's forehead, suddenly solemn as a thought occurred to her.
"Did he by any chance go anywhere near what used to be Nerima?" the old crone asked, her eyes widening in sudden fear.
"Yes, we drove right through it twice," Duo answered. "Why?"
"The plague," the old ghoul said. "There was a plague that swept through Nerima a few years after Ryoga disappeared. The Jusenkyo victims were among the first to die..."
"Even Ranma?" Duo asked. "He was supposed to be so strong."
"Ranma was the very first," the old ghoul said, her haunted eyes reflecting the horror of the memory. "The fever runs uncontrollably, but as soon as you put ice or water on a Jusenkyo-cursed patient-"
"They turn into a pig," Duo interrupted. "Or whatever."
"Yes. But a pig's body, for example, cannot withstand the rigors of the illness. Ryoga as a human might stand a chance of surviving, but if he turns into his cursed form... I'm afraid he'll die as the thing he hated most."
"Is that what happened to Ranma?"
"Ranma died as a woman," Shampoo said, her mouth tight as the remembered pain resurfaced. To this day, she blamed herself... though she hadn't even suspected her great-grandmother until after they had returned to China. Shampoo's position as the tribe's leader-to-be had been assured, once the Amazons were informed that both the man and woman who had brought dishonor to her had died horribly. "His wife followed him soon after, and his father, and his in-laws... and Mousse." Shampoo's husband, the man she had only begun to learn to love in the wake of Ranma and Akane's wedding... tears gathered in her wide eyes at the memory of beloved Mousse smiling at her, his body ravaged by the fever.
"I'm so sorry," Quatre said earnestly, his compassion showing on his sweet face. "But isn't there anything we can do for Ryoga? I don't want him to die!"
"I'm afraid his fate is sealed," the ancient Amazon replied. "The only way he can survive the plague is if he were somehow cured of his curse."
"Is he a danger to us?" Heero asked, ignoring the hurt look Duo shot him. He had to know. It was the kind of question a leader was supposed to ask.
"No, the plague is no threat to any of you, as long as you were vaccinated as children. It's part of the standard vaccines given these days." Heero frowned, vowing to pull up everyone's medical records as soon as possible. If one of them was going to be a victim of this disease, it was better to know now.
"Let's get him upstairs," Duo suggested.
"We can't carry him up the ladder," Quatre protested. "Why not let him stay on the couch? That way we can all keep an eye on him."
"I have to be returning to my tribe," Shampoo said. "If there were anything I could do... Poor Ryoga. I can't believe he skipped through two hundred years only to fall prey to the same disease that killed off all the others." Wufei escorted the ancient woman out of the house, posing a few carefully chosen questions as they left.
Duo gasped as Ryoga's eyelids slowly started to flutter open, so all eyes were on the Lost Boy when he woke back up. He glanced up at all his friends gathered around him, and his cheeks colored with embarrassment that he had once again created a stir. But something was different... there was a light overhead.
"Electric lights?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah," Duo answered with a grimace. "And TV, and cable, and central heating and computer access and all that stuff. But isn't it cooler with just the fires and lamps?" Quatre laughed. Ryoga nodded reluctantly, then found himself grinning. It would have been so much easier to just flip a switch when they first got to the house...
"Speaking of the computer, I'll be on it," Heero announced, his face totally devoid of expression. Duo glanced after him worriedly. He looked like he was going into battle.
"Hey, Ryoga, can you climb upstairs?" Duo asked. Better to have him do it now, while they were all there to help.
"I could probably..." Ryoga said. He sat up abruptly and then had to sink back down on the couch as another wave of dizziness assailed him. Determined, he sat back up again, slowly, and just as slowly rose to his feet. His friends walked with him, and Ryoga was appalled to realize how little strength he had. His legs were shaking with the effort by the time he climbed up the ladder and fell across the first bed. Duo climbed up after him and went to the upstairs bathroom, getting a wet washcloth. He left the door open in case Ryoga needed to see where it was.
"Here," he said, wiping Ryoga's flushed face with the cloth. The Lost Boy mumbled his thanks as his eyes closed again. Quatre clambered up the steps, carrying some printed pages.
"Heero did some research on the disease," the little blond said, his face mirroring his distress as he noticed that Ryoga had passed out again. "We've got to get him cooled off."
"I've got the medicine kit," Trowa announced, climbing the ladder one-handed. "We pretty much just have aspirin and cold medicine. Some thermometers... some bandages... ointment..."
"Ok, help me get his clothes off," Duo said. Quatre raised an eyebrow at him. "So we can get him cooled off?" The three boys started pulling at Ryoga's clothes, only to have them rip right along the seams Wufei had mended.
"Oh, shoot," Duo said. "I can't sew ‘em back, either."
"Now what?" said Quatre. The patient had noticed the change in temperature, and was curled up on his side shivering.
"Aspirin. You said we have aspirin?" Trowa quickly fished out the appropriate bottle, and Duo tried to wake Ryoga.
"Ryoga, you have to take this." Ryoga opened his eyes to see Duo and Quatre leaning over him, smiling. They helped him to sit up, and Duo handed him two pills. Trowa stepped out of the bathroom a moment later with a glass of water.
"It's cold," Ryoga mumbled.
"No, you're feverish," Quatre answered. "Please take the aspirin, Ryoga." Ryoga willingly swallowed the pills and drank the water, because he couldn't say no to Quatre. The little blond was smiling at him, and he found himself smiling back.
"Are you tired?" Duo asked. At Ryoga's nod, he continued, "We'll just leave you alone, then, so you can rest."
"I'm sorry to be so much trouble."
"You're no trouble, Ryoga," Duo said firmly.
"No trouble at all," Quatre echoed.
"Thanks," Ryoga mumbled, and fell into a fitful sleep. Duo, Quatre and Trowa watched over him all night, occasionally wiping his face and limbs with a cold, wet cloth or waking him up to take more aspirin. By morning, the fever had worsened, and Ryoga mumbled incoherently as he dreamed, and it became harder to wake him. He thrashed restlessly on the bed, alternately throwing off the sheet that covered him or huddling up in it shivering. His three friends were rubbing him down with cold washcloths when Heero climbed up the ladder and poked his head over the edge of the floor.
"Mission," the stern-faced pilot said simply, and started to climb back down again.
"Wait!" Duo cried. "What'll we do? He's burning up!" Heero paused and considered for a moment.
"If we had a tarp, we could cover him with it and put ice on it."
"We don't have a tarp," Quatre pointed out.
"We do have a mission, and it can't wait," Heero said, his face revealing none of the pain the statement invoked. Duo was looking at him as though he were heartless, but it hurt him just as much to think of leaving Ryoga to fend for himself in his condition.
"You two go on ahead, and we'll be right behind you," Quatre said with sudden decisiveness. "Duo, help me get him in the tub."
"We can't put cold water-" Duo began to protest, even as he helped drag the Lost Boy from his bed.
"No, but the tub is cold," Quatre answered. "And we can cover him with a damp towel."
"Don' wanna die..." Ryoga mumbled, then whimpered as his friends lowered him into the cold porcelain tub. His eyes opened blearily but didn't focus on either of them. Duo sniffled as he covered Ryoga's shivering body with a cold, damp towel and reluctantly followed Quatre down the ladder.
"What's going on?" a voice asked from behind them.
"Mission," Quatre answered, turning to see Wufei walking in. "And poor Ryoga-"
"Where is he?"
"In the tub, upstairs," Duo answered. "Where were you all night?"
"You go, I'll stay here and listen in," the Chinese pilot answered enigmatically. "Call if you need me."
"Come on," Quatre said, and ran out the door. Duo followed, relieved that at least Ryoga wouldn't be all alone.
Wufei watched them leave, then without a word climbed the ladder to the upstairs. The radio was hidden behind a panel in the wall, and he switched it on. He all but held his breath as he walked into the bathroom. Ryoga looked worse than he had expected; his cheeks were sunken in slightly, and he had dark circles under his eyes and a bluish tinge around his mouth. He was shivering violently, and started to cough just as Wufei entered the room, a dry, hacking cough.
"Only one way to tell if this'll work," Wufei muttered to himself, and with shaking hands he pulled out a flask of cold water, whispering a prayer for luck, and poured it out over the Lost Boy.
"Cold," Ryoga muttered, then his eyes opened blearily, and he stared down at himself in confusion. "No P-Chan?" he muttered, noticing that he was still human. "Must be a dream." And with that he slipped back into his uneasy, fevered sleep.
Wufei smiled at last, satisfied that his efforts had proved fruitful. He had no idea what he would have done if the Nannichuan had turned out to be a fake, but it wouldn't have been pleasant. He supposed he should be grateful for the soft spot the old woman claimed to have for Ryoga.
"It's no dream," he answered cheerfully, bending down to lift Ryoga out of the tub. The boy remained unconscious as Wufei carried him back to the bed and rolled him over onto his stomach, but started to wake when the pilot pulled his shorts off.
"Wh-?" Ryoga muttered, reaching dazedly for the covers as Wufei pulled them out of the way.
"I have to check your temperature," Wufei announced, quickly preparing a rectal thermometer and leaning across Ryoga's body as he started to try to get up. "This is the most accurate way."
"Wufei!" Ryoga cried, outraged as the pilot pried his buttocks apart and slid the thermometer in. "You leave me alone! Get off me!" A fit of coughing interrupted Ryoga's angry diatribe, and Wufei ignored the Lost Boy's furious, feeble struggles, resting one hand across the curve of Ryoga's buttocks to hold the thermometer in place as he calmly counted off the time until he could be sure he had an accurate reading.
"106.5," Wufei gasped. Ryoga pulled the covers around himself as soon as Wufei let him go, and curled up in a shivering, humiliated little ball on the bed. Wufei wordlessly went to the tub and started the cold water running in it, then climbed downstairs to get some ice. He made several trips while the tub filled, then crossed back over to where Ryoga huddled on the bed.
"Wufei..." Ryoga mumbled as the pilot picked him up. "No..." Wufei unceremoniously placed him in the tub, and Ryoga shot up with a loud gasp, floundering in the icy water. Wufei held him down in it, getting soaked himself as Ryoga thrashed in the frigid cold. As soon as the Lost Boy had his breath back, he screamed. The water was so cold it was painful, and he couldn't help but scream, his mouth filling with water as Wufei struggled to keep him down in the tub.
"Help! Someone help me! You're killing me!" Ryoga shrieked, sobbing in pain and cold and terror. His heart felt like it was trying to explode in his chest, and he screamed again and again, he screamed until his coughing stopped him, then coughed until he could scream again. It seemed an eternity, a torturous forever before Wufei pulled him out of the tub, and by then he no longer even had the strength to struggle. He hung weakly from Wufei's arms, his body racked with coughing, then flopped gracelessly onto the bed where Wufei put him.
Wufei got a towel and quickly dried his patient off, then took his temperature again, grunting in satisfaction. The ice bath hadn't been pleasant, but it had certainly been effective. He pulled the covers over Ryoga, frowning in concern as he noticed that the cough was getting worse. There was a danger of pneumonia with this disease, he knew at least that much from what Shampoo had told him. Pneumonia had killed Ranma.
Wufei glanced down at himself and noticed that he too was soaked to the skin. He quickly changed clothes, draping his sodden garments over the railing in hopes that they would dry soon. Ryoga was shivering violently under the covers, his teeth chattering. Wufei lay down behind him, pressing up against Ryoga's chilled body. Ryoga relaxed a little, scooting backward instinctively to take in more of Wufei's warmth.
"I know you hate me Wufei," he sighed, "I'm sorry to be so much trouble." Wufei stared at him in surprise. Ryoga thought he hated him?
"Where did you get that idea?" Wufei asked, but Ryoga was already long gone, sunk into a deep, drugged state of unconsciousness now that he had achieved a small measure of comfort. The radio softly transmitted the sounds of battle, and Wufei fell into a light sleep, listening to the harsh rattle of Ryoga's breathing and the sounds of his friends fighting.
During the course of the long day, Wufei got up every few hours to check Ryoga's temperature, force feeding him cough medicine and antibiotics when it was necessary. The antibiotics couldn't help Ryoga to fight the disease, but they might help stave off secondary infections. Twice Wufei had to repeat the ice-bath procedure, but Ryoga no longer had the energy to fight him. He merely lay in the tub shivering and whimpering from the cold, and turned his face away, silently refusing to even look at Wufei.
Wufei also listened to the radio, chafing at the thought that his friends needed him. The battle might have been over by now, had they had all five Gundams to fight. Several times Quatre or Duo wondered aloud how Ryoga was doing, and Wufei had to smile at Heero's terse reassurances that he was in good hands. Heero also took the opportunity to remind them that they did have a mission to attend to.
Sunset brought a glorious array of color to the western sky, and Wufei watched as the rosy glow slowly lit the house. Ryoga stirred uncomfortably, then opened his eyes and saw the pilot looking at him.
"You... leave me alone," he rasped, his voice hoarse from screaming. He slowly sat up, and tried to shake off Wufei's hands.
"Just where do you think you're going?" Wufei asked, irritated.
"Bathroom. Leave me alone."
"I'll walk you there."
"You keep your hands off of me!" Ryoga snapped.
"Look," Wufei growled, his eyes boring into Ryoga's. "I don't have time to go looking for you if you get lost, and you're in no condition to go wandering around. Either you let me help you, or I'll tie you to the bed and catheterize you."
"You wouldn't!" Ryoga gasped. Wufei's gaze never wavered, and after a long moment Ryoga's eyes dropped, his head lowering as his cheeks flushed. "Fine. Have it your way." He meekly let Wufei lead him to the bathroom, and tried not to let it bother him that the stern pilot watched him the whole time. Ryoga was shaking with fatigue by the time Wufei led him back to the bed, and found that he was forced to be grateful for a strong shoulder to lean on.
"Here, you might as well take your medicine while you're up," Wufei said. Ryoga glared at him mutinously for a moment, then took the medicine and tried to swallow it without tasting it. At least it was better than having Wufei cram pills down his throat.
End Part Five
Yoiko ^__^
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