Childhood Memories

Written by: Son Pan

The house was silent as a young boy wandered about. He held a small oiled umbrella in one hand, and in his other hands he held a soft plush toy. The house was dark, and outside the lightning flickered, warning the boy that it was raining. He walked to the window near the kitchen, pulled up at stool, and climbed up onto the stool. There he peered into the dark night, watching the hard rain as it pelted down and streaks across the windows. The wind howled and the sky was illuminated as lightning ached through the sky. Behind him, a noise caused him to turn around. A large brown dog sat on his haunches, looking up at the little boy. He smiled a widen grin, and hopped off The stool. He set the plush toy down and hugged the dog.

It looked at the raining outside world and barked. The boy decided he'd better let the dog outside, or lest he need clean up a mess later. Slowly he walked over to the dining room, and slid the door open, leading to the patio/deck. The dog padded onto the deck, and the boy followed, deciding he better make sure the dog didn't stray. He still clasped his umbrella in one hand, ever afraid of the rain, and the loud thunder that followed always.

Both his parents were out for the night, and he was home alone while the storm raged. The dog took to the grass, darting beneath the thick trees, keeping out of the rain. The boy opened his umbrella and followed the dog. The dog sniffed and moved about, and shortly the boy realized his house was out of sight. He looked around, and lightning flashed again. He recognized where he was, and went to get the dog, and to drag him back to the house.

The dog ran in front of him, and he chased after it. The dog, thinking this was play, ran faster, and the boy had to struggle to keep up. The rain continued pelting, making the ground wet, and the grass slippery. The dog circled a tree and yapped happily. The boy, in turn chased the dog around the tree, and laughed, his hair getting wet regardless of the umbrellas protection. The dog took off and the boy, stooped to catch his breath. At that moment, the wind decides to whip up, and it snagged his umbrella out of his hands. He cried out, as he watched it blow into the night sky. Standing there in the rain, his clothes now soaked, and the rain dripping off his nose, he chewed his lower lip, not willing to cry.

He turned and scolded the dog. Its tail fell between its legs and it bowed his head. The boy grabbed the dogs collar and began walking the direction home. He was lucky he knew his way around, even in the dark. He'd played out here many times during the day, and the terrain wasn't so different at night that he couldn't tell where he was going. The dog, realizing he was being lead back to the stuffy house, rebelled, pulled away.

Although the boy was strong for his age of 9, the dogs collar slipped from his hands, and he cried out. The dog, free, torn into the night, running happily through the rain. The boy sighed and then took off after it. He ran after it a long time, and came no where near catching it. The dog was a fast running, far faster than he. Still, the boy chased the pup.

The rain beat down more, and the boy began to get cold. He decided he'd head home when he spotted the dog poking his nose into an over turned trash can. He shouted, and the dog looked up. Then the boy charged the dog, and it ran off. He yelled and chased it back the way they'd come. The dog ran ahead, and the boy's feet suddenly slipped on the slick grass. He threw his arms out to brace himself, but he went skidding on his chest. He hit the side of a tree, and dazedly got up. He wiped his shirt off, not helping much. Angered now, he left the dog, and blindly stormed off towards his house.

He climbed a hill that lead towards his home, one he recognized to be just a few blocks from his house, although it was hidden a ways in the forest. He liked to come to the hill sometimes. He would sit there and imagine things. Below The hill was old burnt tree stumps, and he often thought he was the general of these 'men', they would listen to him as he belted out orders.

The boy reached the top of the hill, and began to descend the opposite side. The usually stable dirt and grass was not stable any longer and he fell, head over heels. His small body tumbled down the hill, and he cracks his head against a burnt tree stump at the bottom. His arms were tangled about him, and his brow was bleeding. The boy was unconscious.

He wasn't found until dusk of the next day. The rain had covered his small body in mud, and scatters the blood from his injured skull. He was a soft blue, nearly frozen in the cold as the rain had poured on into the day. The winds had thrown leaves and grass over him, trying to take his body back into the Earth from whence it came.

By all normal appearances, this little nine year old boy was dead, but as the medical people arrived, it was determined he still lived. With his head bleeding as it was, and the numb coldness of the icy rain, it surprised all. But he was a strong boy, trained to endure the hardships life threw at him. He did not give up. Even at his young age, he had pride and honor, and he struggled to live, knowing he had a full life ahead to plan.

Immediately he was rushed to the medical ward, wherein he was operated on. His arms were bandaged and his cuts and bruises treated. His body temperature rose to normal, but he still lacked a great amount of blood, and he'd suffered sever head trauma.

He had many surgeries at his parents willing expense. The doctors spoke softly, and said if he survived the ordeal, he would most likely be retarded or have sever mental problems. Even to the point of amnesia. However there was the chance that he would recover and turn out perfectly normal. This chance his parents hoped and prayed for, and they went on with the operations.

And he survived. He came out of the surgery, his head wrapped with a white cloth. His parents thanks the Gods that be that their little boy survived, never minding that he may not even be able to sit up, or talk again. As the weeks went by the boys injuries healed.

Much to the surprise of the doctors and nurses, he seemed to have very few mental difficulties. He could not recall the events of The night of his injury, or why or how he got in the forest. Just as well, everyone was very happy he recovered as well as he did. He remembered his training, his school, he remembered people, places, and ideas. Everyone was very happy, and the doctors got extra claims, that they had recovered this child to nearly perfect.

The boy left the hospital after he recovered. He returned to the happy boy he was again. He had no fears, as his parents thought he would. He didn't fear the rain, or lightning any more than he had before. His parents hovered over him like hawks now. They didn't let him out of their sight for a long time. They lead him places, and held his hand when they were out.

But as time worn on, as time has to, his parents became more lenient. By the time he was 11 they hardly ever held his hand, not that he allowed them to anymore. He was in his last years before entering Junior High. He was strong for his age and didn't want to be babysat by mommy and daddy.

And as the boy was constantly going off by himself now, he realized things weren't always as they had been. Having not remembered the incident where he nearly died, his parents did not talk about it, and so the boy did not relate these problems to that. At first he through nothing of it. He studied for entrance exams into Junior High, and his mind was always filled with knowledge that he was forever pondering. Often he found himself wandering into the wrong classroom. He would apologize profusely and then run to his real class.

And then as time passed, he entered the wrong classes, and apologizing he ran to his real class, but instead of going to his correct class he entered other wrong rooms. Often he tried three of four rooms before he found the correct classroom.

Then came the day he couldn't find his school. He knew The way. He KNEW he knew the way. But he couldn't find it. It was as if the school had moved, except he knew that it was still there, and HE was the one moving. He searched all of first hour until he came across the building.

The next day he was lost until midday. And soon, he found himself getting lost in his own home, from room to room. At night he began to cry, despite his manly appearance. Some reason he was always getting lost. Then the day came when he went to school, and didn't return for two days. Lost the entire time. And from then on, he carried a pack filled with supplies.

At one point he became lost in the woods for nearly a month. After a week time had no meaning, and his food ran out. He had to fend for himself and he nearly starved to death. When he finally arrived home again his parents worried about him terribly. His father after along time of thinking, gave him a case of head bands. He told his son to wear three of them, and drop them every mile when he got lost. Then they would know where to look for him.

And he used the headbands, and they often worked. And he was almost able to get around his local area without getting lost. He could get to school, around his house, and to a few stores nearby. His parents constantly worried about him.

By the time he was in Junior High he was considered handicapped in direction. He now got lost despite the efforts to correct it. The doctors said there was nothing to be done. He pouted, but decided that fate was cruel, and he would endure, regardless. He went to Junior High, and had guides lead him to his classes. He got to lunch fine by following the kids. He was not forgetful, mind you, just direction less.

Then, in his second year in Junior High, he made the worst mistake in his life. He challenged a new student in his school to fight. They were to meet in the lot behind his house. It was no secret that he had direction problems, and his rival knew this. The boy wandered for four days, furious at his rival for the things he'd done. When he finally arrived at his house, he found his opponent gone, unwilling to wait.

This enraged him and he asked those at his school where this boy had gone to. They answered "China. To train with his father." And he vowed to hunt down this boy, and finish the fight that he'd run out on. He made it to the ocean, and he swam the channel between Japan and China.

He never found the boy and his father, or so he thought. His travels took a drastic change when he visited a cursed training ground in China. He was destined to find this boy and his father, so he checked every training ground he could. Including the cursed.

He didn't know why the grounds where cursed, but he found out. A girl with fiery red hair and a huge panda bear had knocked him into one of the hundreds of springs at this cursed training place. He found out soon enough what the curse was; when he emerged from the spring not as a human teenager, but as a small black piglet.

The Jusenkyou Curse. All what drowned in the springs thousands of years ago cursed the spring. He had been pushed into the spring of a drowned pig, and so now he turned into a pig when doused with cold water. And with hot water, he returned human. After this irreversible curse was bestowed upon him, he returned to Japan, carefully. Traveling was far harder as a piglet. With rains, floods and puddles. Hot water was very hard to come by as well.

Then, he stumbled upon the school that his rival attended. A nice High School, he'd been gone that long. He was in Tokyo Japan, and there he challenged his Junior High rival. Ever since he has lived with his curse, secretly loving only his rivals unwilling fiancee. He is forever fighting with his rival, who claims he is the more powerful of the two. But the young direction less warrior knows this not to be true.

He is forever lost, living in a cruel world, where even luck has its drawn backs. Yet he strives to endure. He is proud and he has honor. And what ever life throws at him, he takes in stride. The good with the bad. He is eternally lost, yet he has found a place to call his home:

Nerimia.

He has found the one he loves:

Akane Tendou

And he discovered who he is, his real self:

Ryouga Hibiki, the Eternal Lost Boy

Authors Notes:

Alright, I realize now that Ryouga's diretionlessness is a heritary thing, passed down from generation to generations. However, when I wrote this story, I didn't know that, and I thought it'd be intersting to think of WHY Ryouga was the way he is. So, this could be...maybe in another dimention. Either way, I wrote it, and enjoyed it. You can decided. ^_^