(So this is how it ends,) Cure Spark thought. She lay, battered and defeated in the rubble which was once her happy hometown. Would the sun ever rise again in that black sky? Spark struggled to rise to her hands and knees. Her companions were scattered around her; their bodies crumpled and dwarfed by the ruins of what used to be moderately-sized skyscrapers. The sight made Spark's face twist in frustration and her jaw clench as hot tears flowed down her cheeks.
"I won't let this be the end!" she said to no one in particular while she pulled herself up to her feet with the help of a nearby chunk of concrete. "I have to protect Earth, even... even if..." Spark said, then in a softer voice, continued, "...it costs my life."
Cure Spark had only taken one step from the concrete boulder, when she heard a familiar voice.
"You've done enough, child." Cure Spark turned with wide eyes to see her grandmother, walking tall down the middle of a rubble filled street.
"Obaachan! What are you doing here?" Spark said, limping and stumbling towards the elderly woman. She grasped Cure Spark's arms to stabilize her, and Spark noted how surprisingly strong her grip was.
"Thank you for your hard work, Kana. You can rest now," her grandmother said gently, but Spark shook her head frantically.
"No, no obaachan! I can't! It isn't over yet. I can't give up!"
Her grandmother gave her a warm smile. "I'm not asking you to give up, Kana. I'm simply saying that you can rest now. You don't have to fight anymore."
"But how is that not giving up?" said Spark, astonished at the words her grandmother spoke.
"Because I will take over."
Cure Spark's mouth sagged open, and she was not sure she heard correctly.
"What? You'll take over? What are you taking over?"
Spark's grandmother released one of her arms and brushed the sweat- and blood-matted hair out of her granddaughter's face. "You have a long life ahead of you. The future is waiting, so you must grow up and live."
Fear and apprehension filled Cure Spark as she listened to her grandmother, comprehension dawning on her, and more tears forcing themselves from her eyes. "Obaachan, what are you saying?"
Her grandmother gave her a warm smile and released her other arm, then stepped away from Spark. She closed her eyes and said, "Pretty Cure Monogatari."
Immense power erupted from below Spark's grandmother's feet, sending pink and purple tendrils of energy flailing all around. Spark's uniform flapped violently, and she was forced to lean into the wind produced by the transformation. Spark's grandmother serenely sat with her legs under her, unmoving as layer after layer of light enveloped her body, solidifying into kimono. All in all, Spark counted twelve layers. Spark's grandmother opened her eyes and drew the kanji for "finish" on a piece of parchment, then set her brush down gently.
"Now the sun sets on this winter day
no longer to stop the dew from becoming frost
on my red sleeves.
Cure Murasaki."
Cure Spark watched the transformation with rapt attention and astonishment. Cure Murasaki rose and turned towards her granddaughter with bright, alert eyes, full of power. She looked younger somehow; not a youth, but not her full 77 years.
"Granddaughter, I have helped repulse the advances of evil three times in my life; this will be the fourth."
Cure Spark could not believe this. "You're a Cure?"
"Yes. The destiny of a Cure is to protect the Earth and you have played your part well. However, your story is only beginning while mine is ending, so it is fitting that I take this final burden from you."
"Obaachan!" Cure Spark shouted.
"Granddaughter, when I first moved into your house a year ago, it was to be closer to the hospital where my cancer could be treated. You know this. The doctors were hopeful about my treatments..." Cure Murasaki paused and looked Spark directly in the eyes with a compassionate smile. "Dear Kana. The cancer is spreading. I would not have much longer even if I did not choose this path. Let me put what I have left to good use then, to protect the Earth one last time."
Cure Spark was overcome with emotion at this news. She grasped desperately at Murasaki's kimono and buried her face in it, sobbing. "No, no! Don't go!"
Cure Murasaki places her hands gently on her granddaughter's shaking shoulders and drew her into an embrace. "This is an opponent more powerful than yourselves, but I have the strength left at least to stop it."
Cure Spark pleaded incomprehensibly with her grandmother not to go, but Murasaki just smoothed her hair again. "Granddaughter, I thought you would have more composure than this," she gently chided and raised one hand to create a faintly purple, transparent barrier around Cure Spark, separating the two, then took a step back. Cure Spark pressed futilely on the barrier with open palms, but it did not budge, and she could only stare, wide eyes gushing tears down her pale cheeks.
"When you get home, please look between the futons in the lower left cabinet in my room." Cure Murasaki placed one of her hands against the barrier, opposite of Spark's.
"Sayonara, Kana."
"Obaachan… I love you."
Kana knelt down on the tatami, opened the cabinet, suck her hand in between the folded futon and felt around. Her hand brushed up against something and she pulled the item out, revealing it to be a letter and a small, wrapped package. Kana opened the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of paper, on which was written a letter, addressed to her, in her grandmother's elegant script.
Kana,
You are truly amazing. Being a Cure takes many qualities; caring, strength, loyalty, determination, friendship and love, to name a few. In all the years I've known you, you have never failed to display these traits, and I pray you can keep it up.
Even though this evil has been turned back, there may be more hardships in store for you. Do not lose hope, Kana. A Cure must stand as a beacon of light when darkness falls. There is no doubt in my mind that you and your friends can overcome anything that gets in your way.
Inside the package is something I would like you to have. For years, this served as my henshin item, allowing me to protect the Earth and those I love. It is yours now. Though I do not know if it will provide you with additional power, please look at it when you need strength and remember me. I will be thinking of you.
Please do not count this as a loss, Kana. I did not have long to live and would much prefer my life to end defending you and your friends than to fade away in a hospital bed. Live your life, Kana, and enjoy it.
I love you,
Love,
Grandmother.
Kana placed the letter on the tatami next to her and wiped her eyes once more. With the tears cleared, she picked up the crisply wrapped, rectangular package. The wrapping was so perfect she almost could not bring herself to open it, but she did, taking the utmost care not to rip any of the paper. Kana slid a plain, white, paperboard box out of the wrapping and set the paper down. Taking the box in one hand, she gently lifted the lid and, seeing the contents, raised the back of her hand to her mouth and shut her eyes tightly as more tears began to flow. Inside the box was the black lacquered comb her grandmother always wore in her grey hair. The back of the comb was adorned by a red ink drawing of wisteria, and nearly microscopic cracks spiderwebbed across the lacquer, denoting its great age. Kana clutched the comb gingerly to her chest and bent over double, weeping at the memory of her grandmother.
"Come on, Kana, we're going to miss the train!"
"I'm coming, I'm coming! Just a minute!" Kana held out her hand and the vendor deposited the few coins which were her change into it. Having received the money, Kana pocketed the coins, turned and ran up the steps of the train station, carrying five sticks of odango, one for herself and each of her friends. Kana's commune bounced at her hip as she climbed the last steps to reach her friends; her shirt blew in the summer breeze and the sun glinted off the black lacquer comb stuck in the back of her hair, just above her ponytail.