Youkai
Author's Note: I looked for some information on Mrs. Tendo, but there doesn't seem to be much information. So I'm writing this from my head, making it up. It's more information and emotion than facts though...so I hope any inaccuracies can be forgiven, as I've only had access to a small amount of the Ranma manga and perhaps a season and a half of the animé.
This is a serious emotional fic and may be slightly OOC because of that. I apologize.
youkai
(n) ghost; apparition; phantom; spectre; demon; monster; goblin
- definition found on Jeffrey's Japanese/English Dictionary ()
Everything changed that day.
She smiled at me as I sat beside her. I waved and smiled back. I remember the trees whizzing by and the sky being blue. I remember my bottle of juice and screaming, thumping of a foot, the squealing of metal. My name being cried out.
First I was angry at my mother for leaving us. She'd left us all alone without her love and caring, left Kasumi to grow up too soon and Nabiki to stop feeling. She left me to be angry, so angry all the time. The anger consumed me as I struggled to keep down the frustrating emotions of knowing that there was nothing I could do to change the situation, that I had no control. I enjoyed it, I rejoiced in it, because it smothered me in strength and gave me power. It distracted me and let me feel something besides the all-consuming anguish that she had plunged me into.
I didn't realize what happened totally, and why, until I was about twelve. When I realized it was my fault, that I took away someone that everyone loved, that I took something wonderful away from my family. I realized that because of my clumsiness, my lack of control, she had left us, away from this world.
I remember when I realized what had really happened, and the monster took me over. That was the last time I remember enjoying anything, truly. No one knew and no one could see, not until it was too late and I was consumed and lost inside myself.
But it really was my fault, wasn't it? Something so seemingly inconsequential as dropping my bottle of juice ended everything and stole her away. Watching my father grieve, and the effects in my sisters drove home the importance of what I'd done and how horrible it was. I should have been thrown away in punishment for what I'd done. I should have been banished and expelled. Everyone forgave me, but I could never forgive myself.
God, that sounds so cliché. "I can't forgive myself for what I've done." But it's stopped being a cliché now and become a way of life. I must atone every day for what I did. I must spend every moment of my life trying to prove to myself that I'm not worthless. But I never will, because I truly am worthless. I have paid for her life with my own, and I am nothing but her ghost.
I was angry at her for something I'd done. Another monster joined the first. The guilt consumed me.
The only solace I have is in the art. The only confirmation of my worth in the world is how strong I am and how good I am. I work so hard at it. I was one of the best. I could fly around the dojo, break bricks in the yard with my bare hand. How many women do you know who can break bricks with only their hand and their skill? It was the one thing I had to comfort myself, my one personal merit, and I worked so hard to keep it and make sure I would never lose it, that I would only get better. I could look at the yard and my broken bricks as testament to the fact that I have talent. It was rewarding enough that I could bear the guilt that always comes along after I feel good about something I've done. The one solid anchor in a windstorm.
And then he came and he took it away, my one last sanctuary from the monsters, he took it away. Who cares if he protects me from everything else, if he takes away my one last stand against myself? I hate that about him, that he can do what I have been toiling towards and working for with no effort at all, that he can beat me at it while he reads a manga. He took away the one good thing about me. He infuriates me. Everything infuriates me.
Anger is safe and strong. Anger is survival. I don't go outside my comfort zone, emotionally. I hide in my anger and let the monster destroy everything around me. I can see him there, close and far away at the same time, but I can't touch him.
I remember everything they told me.
"Akane, it wasn't your fault. It was an accident."
"Akane, what's wrong with you? Why are you so angry? You used to be such a cheerful girl."
"Akane, it was fate that made the bottle go under the brake pedal, not you..."
It doesn't change the fact that I am the one who took her away, and so I am worth nothing. A life for a life, and mine is forfeit.
I am nothing but a ghost with a monster of anger to keep away anything good, and a monster of guilt to remind me who I am.
Author's Note: I looked for some information on Mrs. Tendo, but there doesn't seem to be much information. So I'm writing this from my head, making it up. It's more information and emotion than facts though...so I hope any inaccuracies can be forgiven, as I've only had access to a small amount of the Ranma manga and perhaps a season and a half of the animé.
This is a serious emotional fic and may be slightly OOC because of that. I apologize.
youkai
(n) ghost; apparition; phantom; spectre; demon; monster; goblin
- definition found on Jeffrey's Japanese/English Dictionary ()
Everything changed that day.
She smiled at me as I sat beside her. I waved and smiled back. I remember the trees whizzing by and the sky being blue. I remember my bottle of juice and screaming, thumping of a foot, the squealing of metal. My name being cried out.
First I was angry at my mother for leaving us. She'd left us all alone without her love and caring, left Kasumi to grow up too soon and Nabiki to stop feeling. She left me to be angry, so angry all the time. The anger consumed me as I struggled to keep down the frustrating emotions of knowing that there was nothing I could do to change the situation, that I had no control. I enjoyed it, I rejoiced in it, because it smothered me in strength and gave me power. It distracted me and let me feel something besides the all-consuming anguish that she had plunged me into.
I didn't realize what happened totally, and why, until I was about twelve. When I realized it was my fault, that I took away someone that everyone loved, that I took something wonderful away from my family. I realized that because of my clumsiness, my lack of control, she had left us, away from this world.
I remember when I realized what had really happened, and the monster took me over. That was the last time I remember enjoying anything, truly. No one knew and no one could see, not until it was too late and I was consumed and lost inside myself.
But it really was my fault, wasn't it? Something so seemingly inconsequential as dropping my bottle of juice ended everything and stole her away. Watching my father grieve, and the effects in my sisters drove home the importance of what I'd done and how horrible it was. I should have been thrown away in punishment for what I'd done. I should have been banished and expelled. Everyone forgave me, but I could never forgive myself.
God, that sounds so cliché. "I can't forgive myself for what I've done." But it's stopped being a cliché now and become a way of life. I must atone every day for what I did. I must spend every moment of my life trying to prove to myself that I'm not worthless. But I never will, because I truly am worthless. I have paid for her life with my own, and I am nothing but her ghost.
I was angry at her for something I'd done. Another monster joined the first. The guilt consumed me.
The only solace I have is in the art. The only confirmation of my worth in the world is how strong I am and how good I am. I work so hard at it. I was one of the best. I could fly around the dojo, break bricks in the yard with my bare hand. How many women do you know who can break bricks with only their hand and their skill? It was the one thing I had to comfort myself, my one personal merit, and I worked so hard to keep it and make sure I would never lose it, that I would only get better. I could look at the yard and my broken bricks as testament to the fact that I have talent. It was rewarding enough that I could bear the guilt that always comes along after I feel good about something I've done. The one solid anchor in a windstorm.
And then he came and he took it away, my one last sanctuary from the monsters, he took it away. Who cares if he protects me from everything else, if he takes away my one last stand against myself? I hate that about him, that he can do what I have been toiling towards and working for with no effort at all, that he can beat me at it while he reads a manga. He took away the one good thing about me. He infuriates me. Everything infuriates me.
Anger is safe and strong. Anger is survival. I don't go outside my comfort zone, emotionally. I hide in my anger and let the monster destroy everything around me. I can see him there, close and far away at the same time, but I can't touch him.
I remember everything they told me.
"Akane, it wasn't your fault. It was an accident."
"Akane, what's wrong with you? Why are you so angry? You used to be such a cheerful girl."
"Akane, it was fate that made the bottle go under the brake pedal, not you..."
It doesn't change the fact that I am the one who took her away, and so I am worth nothing. A life for a life, and mine is forfeit.
I am nothing but a ghost with a monster of anger to keep away anything good, and a monster of guilt to remind me who I am.