"You must realize, of course, that my sister Sofia is a very complex child." I said into the telephone. Shouted, to be more exact. For some reason I always spoke on the phone as though the wires had been disconnected, as though I were trying to be heard across the street through an open window. 9, I took a look at my younger sibling, who sat on her knees with her pale hands in the lap of her faded blue dress (which was getting to be awfully small on her). Her gaze was fixated on the world outside the large, glass window in which she faced. Obviously toning out every word that passed through her ears. Her long, curly orange hair lightly touched the floor. If you hadn't known her as long as I did, you would think she was some sort of life-sized doll. Being cute, of course, is not enough. Although heaven known she could charm the legs off a table. But you have to have something more than your looks, which sadly, Sofia did not have.
She was quiet. Either sitting on a chair or on the floor. Reading, or staring off into space as usual. With the same look on her face. An expression that supported my theory that she was waiting... waiting for something. But what?
"So many-sided!" my words hammered on. "Bright as a button in school, but never shows any sign of creativity. Except when she sings... which, isn't often." I sighed. Glancing at her once again as she stirred slightly in place. Her head turned to me, with her greenish-brown eyes questioning me over the top of large glasses. Not giving off emotion of any kind. She was my friend and I hers. We were, in fact, best friends, as is so often in the case between only children. And as with most childhood friendships, there was one dominate member, one submissive. There was no doubt in this case who played the "leading role". Me, Ryoga Hibiki, with my black hair, muscles, and easy-to-recognize bandana. Second was Sofia Hibiki, with her soft curls, creamy skin and seldom words to her name.
Untidy and full of energy, my personality and my person flamed hotly beside her cool apathy. My temper flared, my joys exploded. I grinned and hooted my way through childhood. Dragging and pushing Sofia along as I raced from one adventure to the next. I was compact, sturdy, coordinated and extremely healthy. Sofia got a lot of colds. Whenever I start talking about Sofia and me, I always feels like I'm right back there, a kid again. When we would ski, there was me, standing atop a large hill--letting out a yell just for the heck of it. Then there was Sofia, gasping and clawing up the snowy mountain complaining about how tired and cold she was.
But I guess I really loved Sofia anyway, slowpoke though she was. I had a few other friends who were way more interesting then she was. But it's a funny thing-- she was nearly always my first choice for someone to play with.
That was a small woodlot to the east of the lush, green town we used to live in before entering elementary school. We called it The Grove. It had little natural paths in it, and there were open spaces under the trees like rooms or houses or castles, or whatever you wanted them to be that day. The grove of trees was on the edge of a cliff overhanging some big rocks, and at high tide the lake down there was never still, even though it was flat oil calm. So it could be a spooky kind of place to play in, too. I loved to go there when it was foggy and play spy. We never told our Mother and Father about going to The Grove when the mist was thick. Sofia hardly ever wanted to go on those foggy days. She was afraid of falling off the cliff onto rocks, sure she would drown in the churned-up water, nervous about the ghostly shapes in the thick gray-white air. But she always went. I used to Blackmail her. "If you don't go, I'll tell Mom about the time you pretended to be sick and stayed home from school because you didn't have your homework done and were scared of Sensei." Or I would just plain order her around. "I'm going, Sofie, so get a move on and hurry!" She'd come padding out of the house in her adorable yellow raincoat, so that she wouldn't get a cold in the wet wind, and off we'd go-- me, fast and complain about her slowness, and her slow and complaining about my speed.
But she'd be there and we'd play together and have fun. I'd be the spy, and she'd be the poor agonized prisoner of war, tied up to a tree by a bunch of Nazis. Sometimes I'd leave her tethered good and long, so she'd look really scared instead of pretend scared, while I prowled and killed Nazis and search for weapons. Or we'd play Ghost, and I'd be the ghost-- floating along the edge of the cliff and shrieking in my special death shriek that I saved for ghost games. It started out low like a groan and then rose to a wail, ending in a scream so thin and high that it almost scared me. Sometimes, if she was especially wet and tired, Sofia would start to cry, and that really made me upset. But you have to have a victim, and this was something she was extra good at. No point in wasting my shriek on someone who wasn't afraid of ghosts. No fun to have Nazis tie up someone who was big and strong and brave, particularly when Nazis weren't actually there and you had to think them up and pretend the whole thing.
One time when there was a bunch of us kids instead of just us two, I forgot all about her being tied to the tree and nearly got home before I raced back the whole half mile to untie her. She never said a word. It was snowing, and there were big fat snowflakes on those long white lashes of hers, and her eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of her head. I said I was really sorry, and next week I even bought her a couple of manga books out of my own allowance money, when she was home sick with bronchitis. She never told on me, and I don't know why. She sat up against her pillow and colored in her coloring book or read her manga. Or more often she would just lay there on the bed, her hands lying limp on the quilt, with that patient, quiet, waiting look of hers.
Sofia's voice was so soft and quiet that no one could ever hear her unless they were almost sitting on her lap; so it was no wonder she never had a large range of companions. I was the only one she had, and I was pretty much the only person who really wanted her around. She wasn't a movie star. She didn't cook, didn't draw as well as the average Japanese female, wasn't social, got scared too easily, cried way too much, and was always waiting.
Waiting for someone to accept her. Luckily, I did.
She was quiet. Either sitting on a chair or on the floor. Reading, or staring off into space as usual. With the same look on her face. An expression that supported my theory that she was waiting... waiting for something. But what?
"So many-sided!" my words hammered on. "Bright as a button in school, but never shows any sign of creativity. Except when she sings... which, isn't often." I sighed. Glancing at her once again as she stirred slightly in place. Her head turned to me, with her greenish-brown eyes questioning me over the top of large glasses. Not giving off emotion of any kind. She was my friend and I hers. We were, in fact, best friends, as is so often in the case between only children. And as with most childhood friendships, there was one dominate member, one submissive. There was no doubt in this case who played the "leading role". Me, Ryoga Hibiki, with my black hair, muscles, and easy-to-recognize bandana. Second was Sofia Hibiki, with her soft curls, creamy skin and seldom words to her name.
Untidy and full of energy, my personality and my person flamed hotly beside her cool apathy. My temper flared, my joys exploded. I grinned and hooted my way through childhood. Dragging and pushing Sofia along as I raced from one adventure to the next. I was compact, sturdy, coordinated and extremely healthy. Sofia got a lot of colds. Whenever I start talking about Sofia and me, I always feels like I'm right back there, a kid again. When we would ski, there was me, standing atop a large hill--letting out a yell just for the heck of it. Then there was Sofia, gasping and clawing up the snowy mountain complaining about how tired and cold she was.
But I guess I really loved Sofia anyway, slowpoke though she was. I had a few other friends who were way more interesting then she was. But it's a funny thing-- she was nearly always my first choice for someone to play with.
That was a small woodlot to the east of the lush, green town we used to live in before entering elementary school. We called it The Grove. It had little natural paths in it, and there were open spaces under the trees like rooms or houses or castles, or whatever you wanted them to be that day. The grove of trees was on the edge of a cliff overhanging some big rocks, and at high tide the lake down there was never still, even though it was flat oil calm. So it could be a spooky kind of place to play in, too. I loved to go there when it was foggy and play spy. We never told our Mother and Father about going to The Grove when the mist was thick. Sofia hardly ever wanted to go on those foggy days. She was afraid of falling off the cliff onto rocks, sure she would drown in the churned-up water, nervous about the ghostly shapes in the thick gray-white air. But she always went. I used to Blackmail her. "If you don't go, I'll tell Mom about the time you pretended to be sick and stayed home from school because you didn't have your homework done and were scared of Sensei." Or I would just plain order her around. "I'm going, Sofie, so get a move on and hurry!" She'd come padding out of the house in her adorable yellow raincoat, so that she wouldn't get a cold in the wet wind, and off we'd go-- me, fast and complain about her slowness, and her slow and complaining about my speed.
But she'd be there and we'd play together and have fun. I'd be the spy, and she'd be the poor agonized prisoner of war, tied up to a tree by a bunch of Nazis. Sometimes I'd leave her tethered good and long, so she'd look really scared instead of pretend scared, while I prowled and killed Nazis and search for weapons. Or we'd play Ghost, and I'd be the ghost-- floating along the edge of the cliff and shrieking in my special death shriek that I saved for ghost games. It started out low like a groan and then rose to a wail, ending in a scream so thin and high that it almost scared me. Sometimes, if she was especially wet and tired, Sofia would start to cry, and that really made me upset. But you have to have a victim, and this was something she was extra good at. No point in wasting my shriek on someone who wasn't afraid of ghosts. No fun to have Nazis tie up someone who was big and strong and brave, particularly when Nazis weren't actually there and you had to think them up and pretend the whole thing.
One time when there was a bunch of us kids instead of just us two, I forgot all about her being tied to the tree and nearly got home before I raced back the whole half mile to untie her. She never said a word. It was snowing, and there were big fat snowflakes on those long white lashes of hers, and her eyes looked like they were going to pop right out of her head. I said I was really sorry, and next week I even bought her a couple of manga books out of my own allowance money, when she was home sick with bronchitis. She never told on me, and I don't know why. She sat up against her pillow and colored in her coloring book or read her manga. Or more often she would just lay there on the bed, her hands lying limp on the quilt, with that patient, quiet, waiting look of hers.
Sofia's voice was so soft and quiet that no one could ever hear her unless they were almost sitting on her lap; so it was no wonder she never had a large range of companions. I was the only one she had, and I was pretty much the only person who really wanted her around. She wasn't a movie star. She didn't cook, didn't draw as well as the average Japanese female, wasn't social, got scared too easily, cried way too much, and was always waiting.
Waiting for someone to accept her. Luckily, I did.
The english lyrics to the second OVA ending for Ranma 1/2: link by DoCo.
--
Shampoo:
Up in blue sky silly blimp go by,
where it come from where it going,
ziggy-zaggy it fly high!
Today is Sunday,
past one-thirty,
why you no come by?
Maybe you late but I no can wait...
Now I cry...
Kasumi:
Pretty red bricks,
bridge that spans the tide.
Draw the picture see the face
of the one I want by my side!
There you are all dressed in black
but I can't see your eyes.
Can it be your dressed that way for me?
Why are you so shy?
Beep-beep! Beep-beep!
Ranko:
This pager's drivin' me crazy!
Just so! You know!
If some dark stranger asked me I might go...
And so...
Don't blame me when your lonely!
We're sailing out to see the ship and me.
Lalala, lala, lala, lalalaa~!
Lalala, lala-la-la-la-la-la, laa~!
Repeat x3.
--
Shampoo:
Up in blue sky silly blimp go by,
where it come from where it going,
ziggy-zaggy it fly high!
Today is Sunday,
past one-thirty,
why you no come by?
Maybe you late but I no can wait...
Now I cry...
Kasumi:
Pretty red bricks,
bridge that spans the tide.
Draw the picture see the face
of the one I want by my side!
There you are all dressed in black
but I can't see your eyes.
Can it be your dressed that way for me?
Why are you so shy?
Beep-beep! Beep-beep!
Ranko:
This pager's drivin' me crazy!
Just so! You know!
If some dark stranger asked me I might go...
And so...
Don't blame me when your lonely!
We're sailing out to see the ship and me.
Lalala, lala, lala, lalalaa~!
Lalala, lala-la-la-la-la-la, laa~!
Repeat x3.
Enable Listen: link
--
My heart is ready to beat,
I can feel the wind underneath my feet.
I'm gonna jump over the moon,
Hands in the air waving up
like a balloon!
I'm free as a bird,
lost in the stars
and waving down to earth.
Don't know where I'm gonna land,
but you gotta wobble before you stand!
I'm soaring~!
All alone and on my own,
I'm soaring~!
And I know my heart will lead me home.
Just look in my eyes,
can't you see I'm not the same today?
I can see farther now.
I stepped up, and I'm making
my own way!
Don't know where I'm gonna land,
but you gotta wobble before you stand!
I'm soaring~!
All alone and on my own,
I'm soaring~!
And I know my heart will lead me home.
--
My heart is ready to beat,
I can feel the wind underneath my feet.
I'm gonna jump over the moon,
Hands in the air waving up
like a balloon!
I'm free as a bird,
lost in the stars
and waving down to earth.
Don't know where I'm gonna land,
but you gotta wobble before you stand!
I'm soaring~!
All alone and on my own,
I'm soaring~!
And I know my heart will lead me home.
Just look in my eyes,
can't you see I'm not the same today?
I can see farther now.
I stepped up, and I'm making
my own way!
Don't know where I'm gonna land,
but you gotta wobble before you stand!
I'm soaring~!
All alone and on my own,
I'm soaring~!
And I know my heart will lead me home.
The english lyrics to the second opening for the OVA's of Ranma 1/2: link by DoCo.
--
You may touch me in dreams but they don't stay.
(Today you don't have much to say.)
How am I gonna face the light of day?
(What have I done now?)
Things completely unspoken,
thinking it's for the best,
Then I look into your eyes,
and it gets tight in my chest,
Hear the river tells of our goodbye.
(It's late and they all wait for me!)
Sayonara whispers on the breeze.
(I'll get in trouble!)
Let me know what in your heart,
that a good place to start.
All I need is a small song,
and I give my heart to you.
You and me have still got,
so much we need to say!
Friendship's not enough,
Why can't we seize the day?
Dontcha' know I got no idea
from this point on?
So far to go
until we both agree,
You and me.
--
You may touch me in dreams but they don't stay.
(Today you don't have much to say.)
How am I gonna face the light of day?
(What have I done now?)
Things completely unspoken,
thinking it's for the best,
Then I look into your eyes,
and it gets tight in my chest,
Hear the river tells of our goodbye.
(It's late and they all wait for me!)
Sayonara whispers on the breeze.
(I'll get in trouble!)
Let me know what in your heart,
that a good place to start.
All I need is a small song,
and I give my heart to you.
You and me have still got,
so much we need to say!
Friendship's not enough,
Why can't we seize the day?
Dontcha' know I got no idea
from this point on?
So far to go
until we both agree,
You and me.
Yappa paa yappa paa, don't know what to do
My heart is not a game-Its mah-jong to you
Yappa paa Yappa paa, feel just like a shrew
Who needs boys?
Don't you dare
make me wild like you
Before you, boys got on their knees
Ranma, Ranma, its me you always tease
Since the day I ran into you
Ranma, Ranma you
stole my heart and you
don't you dare go and
make me wild like you
Somebody tell me why it's so hard
To say those three words: "I Love You"
If I let myself give into you
I'll become just as...
wild as you
Before you come in like a breeze
Won't you stop and ring the bell, please?
Before you make my heart a home
Why not let me love you on my own?
I'd be better off without you
But just tonight, it's alright
Until tomorrow, all right
Everytime your eyes turn to me
Ranma, Ranma,
You make me feel dizzy
Someday we may be more than friends
Ranma, Ranma you've
gone and though it's true
Can't you see that you've
made me wild like you?
<3333
My heart is not a game-Its mah-jong to you
Yappa paa Yappa paa, feel just like a shrew
Who needs boys?
Don't you dare
make me wild like you
Before you, boys got on their knees
Ranma, Ranma, its me you always tease
Since the day I ran into you
Ranma, Ranma you
stole my heart and you
don't you dare go and
make me wild like you
Somebody tell me why it's so hard
To say those three words: "I Love You"
If I let myself give into you
I'll become just as...
wild as you
Before you come in like a breeze
Won't you stop and ring the bell, please?
Before you make my heart a home
Why not let me love you on my own?
I'd be better off without you
But just tonight, it's alright
Until tomorrow, all right
Everytime your eyes turn to me
Ranma, Ranma,
You make me feel dizzy
Someday we may be more than friends
Ranma, Ranma you've
gone and though it's true
Can't you see that you've
made me wild like you?
<3333