A/N: Hey there people! I have never posted for the X-Men fandom before, nor am I necessarily an avid X-Men fan. But I loved The Wolverine, and I loved the Logan/Mariko pairing. I was not satisfied with the ending since I first saw the film this summer, but it's not until now that I decided to make a resolution for them myself. This is also my first attempt at writing FF in a few years, so let me know how I did, with the factors I mentioned in mind. Thanks so much, and I hope you enjoy this two-shot.
Addendum
From above the clamor of snapping shutters and blinding flashes, Mariko Yashida beheld the sea of media before her. The time had come. The podium she grasped shaded her wavering knees from the prying eyes of reporters. Her knuckles were white, her eyes unusually wide. She was nervous, leaning toward the shrubbery of microphones in front of her. She steeled herself, determined not to stutter.
"I have called this press conference today for a singular purpose. For two years I have been the president of Yashida Industries, according to the dying wishes of my father.. May he rest in peace."
Murmurs of agreement arose from the crowd as many journalists looked on with piercing concentration, searching her purpose. It was unlike Mariko Yashida to hold a press conference. She had developed a reputation over time of being incredibly reclusive, with respect to her high-powered position. Her addressing of the public media was rare, suspect in the eyes of many. She looked down, reading from a script.
"It was my father's wish that his company should not only endure, but thrive with his passing, and the subsequent change of leadership because of it. I have been greatly honored to take his place in leadership of his company, according also to his written will. These two years, I have done as I have seen best for Yashida Industries while minding the threat posed by the Yakuza.."
"My father's greatest fear was that the assets of Yashida Industries would fall into the hands of the Yakuza. Now, it is no secret that the Yakuza was a major threat to my father's company at the time his death.. Nor is it any secret that his technologies greatly contributed to the seizure and persecution of most Yakuza affiliates in Tokyo."
At this there were snickers. Mariko smiled, gaining needed confidence.
"It is because this danger has been eliminated that I am now prepared to make a change for the well-being of this company.."
She breathed deeply, reigning in her heart and mind. She knew the wave was about to hit, and that it would be vain to try and explain herself.
"I am officially resigning as the president of Yashida Industries, effective immediately."
A sudden barrage gasps, clicks, flashes and questions washed over her. For twenty seconds she paused, until the clamor calmed just slightly. She spoke again, visibly shell-shocked.
"Taking my place will be a team of executives whom have earned my trust, and would have that of my father. They will do well to lead this company for the good of not only our customers, but that of Japan. I thank everyone who has helped me get to where I am, and I thank all in advance for continued support as I step away from this role, and leave it in more qualified hands."
As a moderator explained that no questions were being taken, Mariko grasped her papers, stepping back amidst increasingly desperate shouts demanding answers. She exited the room amidst her entourage, stepping into the sunlight of uptown Tokyo. As she made her way to a limousine that pulled up in perfect time, she dodged microphones and pleading questions. Her mind was swirling, a million miles away. The limousine door shut behind her, and she ignored the turbulent foliage of microphones and faces that rubbed against the glass as the limo accelerated.
(Page Break)
The Canadian night was unfriendly. It was dark, bitterly cold, windy, and always held the threat of wild animals. Not that Logan was really bothered by them. The elements were more problematic to him than predators. But more problematic than anything was the fact that not even in isolation could he escape the aloofness his powers came with. He didn't miss the very humane rate of healing he had dealt with in Japan two years prior to this night, but there was one thing he did miss.
Tonight he slept restlessly. He dreamed.
"Keep up, Logan!" Mariko shouted, peeking back over her shoulder.
He looked incredulously at her, though she couldn't see him. "You're forgetting I've been shot up a few times lately. Not to mention chopping trees all day."
Mariko smiled to herself as they dashed through the rain. It was starting to pour. Her heartbeat quickened as she remembered the sight of sinewy muscles, the likes of which she had never seen before, glistening under the afternoon sun. Her ears and cheeks burned red at the stares and judgments directed at her, when Logan had first followed her out of the house to help clear the road. But she could not hide her smile when she heard the murmurs about his fantastic muscles as he swung the ax, clearing the tree that had fallen across the road. Upon finishing, the old ladies who had stared judgmentally at her were all too eager to thank Logan for his help.
Helping, however, had worn Logan out, and although he had taken a couple of breathers, he was still quite fatigued. The rain was refreshing to the touch though. He had no problem soaking it in, unlike Mariko, who ran ahead of him with her jacket above her head. The sound of her laugh found his ears, and it made him dizzy. She glanced back behind her shoulder, finding his eyes. At this his heart skipped a beat. His gaze dropped to her feet as they danced down the road, turning into the path that led up to her house's front door. She slid it open, smiling. He watched her walk towards the kitchen.
"You have worked hard Logan. You should wash now."
Logan grunted, and walked to where the bathroom was. He slid the door open and looked down the hall, where he could hear the sounds of bowls clanking, water pouring, iron sharpening. When Mariko came into view, their eyes met. Her lips curved in a bashful grin. Her gaze faltered timidly before she looked back at him with a wavering sigh.
He saw love in her smiling eyes.
Logan sat forward suddenly, heart beating quickly. The wind gusted as he exhaled, wavering. It whistled through the trees and his shaggy hair. He looked out from his nook on the side of a mountain, troubled.
His dreams, for so long, had been occupied by Jean. She always visited him in them, haunting him. However, in the last couple of years, she had stolen out of memory gradually, and had now disappeared altogether. Memories of a short time in Japan had filled in. Mariko did not speak to him in dreams the way Jean had. All he dreamed of were memories with her. Some nights held only the smallest moments or thoughts.. Others seemed to contain a lifetime of memories.
He beheld the wintry night sky, sandblasted with stars, and groaned. Why did he still feel this way? He hadn't seen her, let alone communicated with her, in nearly two years. He kept tabs on how she had responded to taking her father's place atop Yashida Industries, and from all indications she seemed to be doing great. There was no reason to believe that she was experiencing the same thing towards him that he was towards her. How could she not be too busy for it? How could she be so troubled as he had been when the weight of a country rested upon her shoulders? How could the immense responsibility of her position allow her to even dream of a personal life? Even if she had the time, she probably had her pick of the world's men since taking over Yashida Industries. She likely had no memory of him anyway, and even if she did, it was probably of a brute bodyguard, a freak gaijin, a misplaced beast, who had come and gone.
These demons he could not fight with claws. His body was strong once again, yet his heart and mind could not seem to heal from the wounds they suffered since leaving the Land of the Rising Sun. Hard Canadian liquor couldn't drown his sorrows. He learned this with every passing trip into town. This place was getting old. He would find himself reining his mind in from across the Pacific every day now.
A special night with her surfaced in his memory. Their voices swirled inside his head.
He stood before her, baffled with the traditional Japanese garb he wore. Moving towards him, she chastised him halfheartedly, before beginning to help him.
"This isn't right. You need this tied.. like a true samurai."
He sighed. "Your grandfather called me a ronin.. A samurai without a master."
She fumbled with tying his garment, silently listening. He took in the sight: her hair a black waterfall falling from her head, so, so close to him. In from the rain, she now wore a patterned white robe, wispy and heavenly.
"He said I was destined to live forever, with no reason to live."
He recalled the tense air, her incredible nearness to him.
Her gaze and voice were low and wavering. "Was.. was he right?"
He paused, stuck on the question.
"...Yes."
She looked up with pleading eyes, electrifying and moist; he nearly sunk in them. Her voice was like cracking porcelain.
"..Still?"
A single tear leaked from Logan's eye. He quickly wiped it away as he looked upon the forested mountains.
He hadn't known at that moment how much Mariko really meant to him. Only two years of absence could reveal the deep impression the lovely Japanese lady had left on his hardened heart. Surely the pressure of constantly escaping death had been a catalyst to their bonding. It was not something he fully understood.
But in that moment, she was bare. Her heart was on the table. Time was no longer an object. He remembered that night, and the sound of her pounding heart above the rain. He knew that night would haunt him thereafter once all she wore was a desperate expression and courage. A spark was lit that night that the winds of time had fanned into a consuming fire.
And now she was mountains and oceans and miles away.
Facing west, he looked down, imagining the curvature of the earth, to see if he could stare as though he saw Japan somewhere far below through thousands of miles of earth and water. He saw nothing but cold, dusty stone.
Yet as he stared at the crevices below, a redness began to bleed from the impenetrable stone, and as he raised his gaze to take in the ocean of cedars all around him, there was nothing but a brilliant sea of scarlet trees. A great gust whistled through the mountain range, rolling through the trees like a hand through short, black hair; it sent up clouds of red powder, millions of snowflakes airborne once again, held in the light of a rising sun. As Logan turned to watch the red orb float up from behind the mountains, he raised a hand to shade his eyes. He was warmed.
Logan stood over the filled-in hole, off the coast of Nagasaki. "I was here when it happened.. It's how I met your grandfather."
He turned to her. "We hid in there."
She smiled pensively. "I heard the stories. My grandfather always said what happened here was proof that everything in the world eventually finds peace.. Eventually."
She sighed, looking down. "He said man can recover from anything."
She lifted her head to pin him with a piercing gaze. There was hope somewhere in it. "Maybe you, too."
(Page Break)
The door opened to the hardware store with a ring. Stepping in from the cold, blustery morning outside, Logan walked up to the clerk's counter, plopping atop it a large, black briefcase with a thud.
"Get your father," he told the young woman who was always there. She smiled.
"Jerry!"
From a back room emerged an older, bearded man. He walked up to the counter, eyeing Logan wearily. He grasped the case and opened it. Logan read his face. The man's eyebrows rose momentarily. He looked up to Logan.
"What do you want?" he asked dryly.
"What can you give me for it?"
The man coughed. "This ain't a pawn shop, man."
Logan grunted, displeased, and grabbed the case. "My apologies. I thought you would know value when ya saw it. Thought the financial red would smarten you up."
He turned to the door. The man sighed loudly, running a hand through his hair.
"You a soldier?" the man asked, eyeing the case. Logan turned around.
"Not anymore."
(Page Break)
As the limousine sped through Tokyo, Mariko sat in the back, watching the city pass her by. She turned her head toward Yukio, who sat further away, in a corner. She poured herself a drink and held Mariko's gaze as she took a long sip.
"What?" Yukio asked expectantly. Mariko shook her head.
"Why did you do it, shimai?"
Mariko held her silence with a shaky sigh. She looked out the window once again.
"What in the world are you going to do now? Sit at home?"
"Perhaps," Mariko responded.
"You know that the eyes of millions are on you, Mariko. There are expectations. Your last name is Yashida, after all. You will be expected to honor him still."
"Grandfather was a monster, Yukio. Maybe not always, but you were there. You know who he became. Why should I?"
Yukio slid down to sit at Mariko's side. She took Mariko's hand in hers.
"Shimai, the world must not know that. They cannot know it. It must be with you as though it were not true."
"I did what I could with the company! It is now in more capable hands. He would be glad."
"He did not want the company to leave the family!"
"He gave it to me because he thought he could obtain Logan's healing, Yukio. He thought he could take it right back from me. That Viper lady was right.."
Yukio was struck at the statement. "About what, shimai?"
Mariko wiped away a tear. "He gave it to me because he thought I was weak.."
"No, no Mariko.. He was wrong. You are strong. If you were weak, you would have quit long ago. You would not have bothered with his company. You would be dead already. No, you are not weak."
Mariko glanced wistfully at Yukio before turning again to the window. "I am not dead already because Logan was strong, Yukio."
Yukio dropped her gaze. "Do you know when you were strongest, Mariko?"
Mariko sniffed, producing a tissue and wiping her reddened face with it. "When?"
Yukio's jaw began to tremble at her own anguish. "When you kept your chin up after he walked up into that plane without a second glance."
Mariko let out a sob, hugging Yukio. She remembered how her sister had returned one night four months ago. She was shocked to see her. She was supposed to be with Logan.
"Do you know how he ditched me, Mariko?"
Mariko shook her head, unsure that she wanted to hear it.
"We were driving through British Columbia, up a mountain pass, before dawn. It was beautiful, shimai. But there were very few towns to stop at, and the car was running out of gas very quickly. He pulled over at a scenic overlook, and we got out. It was a beautiful sight. He leaned against the car and we waited for the sun to rise. It seemed like a strange thing for him to do, so I spoke up. I asked him, "Why did we stop?" He said, "I thought ya liked this sunrise kinda thing."
Yukio snickered and looked at Mariko. "I told him that I did, but that I liked a full tank even better." Mariko smiled.
"Then he started walking down the road that led down the mountain. I asked him where he was going. He said, "To get gas." I trusted his word. We needed some.. And I waited all day after that before I realized he was not coming back."
It pained Mariko to hear this. "Why? Why did he leave you?"
Yukio shook her head. "I don't know."
Mariko faced forward with a sick feeling. She always looked forward to hearing from Yukio about where she and Logan had been. She felt as though she was living vicariously through them, hearing about their dangerous adventures and worldly travels. It seemed as though Logan would never be able to have a normal life. His powers seemed to get him too much attention, most of it bad. It was always up to him, it seemed, to save somebody's day. She doubted he ever had a passing thought about her, though a torturous hope held on in her that maybe, just maybe, he might remember her, because he had remembered Jean for so long. Yet she felt she had to bury that hope too, along with all the others that had died, as her grandfather's will gradually crushed every simple dream she had growing up.
"Why'd ya resign, princess?"
Mariko jolted awake, breathing heavily, sitting up in bed. She looked around, eyes squinting in the darkness. She shivered in cold sweat. It was night.
"Logan?" she called quietly. Nothing. "Logan..!?"
An ocean breeze slipped in through a cracked door, whistling. Yukio laid awake, a few rooms away, and heard Mariko's calls. An anger boiled within her.
"Dammit Logan!" she hissed.
Mariko rose, and walked outside to the courtyard, leaving footprints in the raked sands. It began to rain. She approached the wall she once sought in a desperate attempt to finish her impending pain. The thought of escaping the waiting, the hopelessness, the pain- it was tempting once again. Her hands settled upon the stony wall like white butterflies. All she heard was the crashing of the waves upon the jagged rocks below her, the sound of rain striking stone all around her.
What was there left to do? What had she learned in her life? Yashida Industries was a leach that had sucked the life from her. Now it was gone. She had met a man she loved, yet could never hope to see again. What was left for her?
She crawled onto the wall and slowly stood, shaking like a willow tree in the gusts. The rain and wind whipped at her. A deep anguish flooded her. She was really doing this.
"You gonna make me rescue you again?"
Her breath caught. Time stood still, and she froze. Turning around, she found..
No one.
She cursed her cruel hope. A tear dripped from her eye, falling with a million raindrops into the sea below as she turned to face the black and green waters.
"Stay," she pleaded. He smiled wistfully.
"I can't, princess. I'm a soldier, and I've been hiding for too long.
"Why?" she croaked to herself. She sucked in one last breath, and let it escape slowly. Her body shivered. Suddenly she heard Yukio's voice screaming as she threw herself down, closing her eyes to her death below.
Flying through the air like a bolt of lightning, a body caught and ensnared her. Realizing this, she panicked, just before a giant crack resounded through the air, and she felt the impact of the form around her shattering against the rocks. She fell loose, into the freezing sea. She could stand to end her life quickly on the rocks, but not drowning. She quickly surfaced, and the spray of the sea and rain blinded her. She gasped for air, but water only filled in. Her body suffered an electrocution of coldness as she dropped down, losing strength. The arms of hypothermia took her. She couldn't keep herself afloat. She had meant to kill herself. She knew, in this moment, that she had succeeded, in a much more painful fashion.
Her mind stopped functioning, and she soon went numb to the coldness, feeling only a furnace that had ignited inside her lungs. She screamed for help with all she had left; but it escaped merely as bubbles from her blue lips, lost in the stormy sea.
Logan was sprawled on the jagged rocks, the breath knocked out of him. With all his willpower, he accelerated his healing. Yet it still was not quick enough, for he had watched his love roll right out of his arms, and into the churning waters. For a moment he saw her head surface, only to sink again. For what seemed like a lifetime, he sat up and crawled toward the waters that splashed against the rocks. His limbs felt heavy, his joints like rusted-out sockets. He could not hope to move as quickly as his heart, nor as quickly as his heart needed him too. Mariko was out there somewhere, drowning and freezing. His mind lurched forth more quickly than his body as he screamed her name.
Sliding into the water, he swam forth blindly, gaining strength. He fought the powerful waves, which washed him back against the rocks again, and again, and again. He fought the water, his claws of no help. It was as though his powers were mocking him. When he needed superhuman abilities the most, they were useless. With a feral scream, he leaped from the tallest rock he could, past the waves, into a deep blackness. Lightning flashed and thunder rolled as Yukio looked on from above in shock.
Submerged, Logan's body was shocked by the coldness, and he felt as though he was crawling through the depths, blind. He saw nothing but murky blackness. Suddenly, he felt bubbles rush up against his skin, and fly to the surface. He looked down, seeing more coming from below. He frantically dug through the water for what seemed like forever, the water getting colder, the tide calmer, the thunder duller. Then his fingertips touched something solid.
Hair. It swayed in the water, pulling between his fingers.
Mariko.
Adrenaline pumped through him like never before.
He grasped her shoulders and pulled her up to be face to face with him. He took her head and pressed his mouth to hers, pressing air into her mouth. Her lips were cold. A few bubbles escaped from her mouth, the last of her air. He then gave her the rest of the breath he had. Becoming lightheaded, he felt strength leaving his body as he pushed her upwards, holding onto her ankles. Choking, he kicked his legs with nothing but the strength of adrenaline and willpower. It was all he could do to get her to the surface. Of all the things he had done- of all the fights, the chases, the traumas within and without- this was the pinnacle of pain. Intangibles became peripheral in the cold jaws of death.
Mariko's body became heavy as it broke the surface. Logan soon broke it too, at this point merely floating up. With the last of his strength, he sucked air in lustfully, his lungs stinging as though they were filled with fire ants. It provided more adrenaline, and he sucked in more, unable to get enough. He kicked his legs slowly, just keeping his neck afloat. He saw Mariko's body sinking, and he grasped it. He kicked toward the jagged rocks. The tide soon washed them onto a broad stone, and he dragged Mariko up, out of the water. He looked at her bluing features.
She wasn't moving.
No, no, no, no..
"Mariko!" he screamed.
Sitting her upright, he began purging water from her roughly. It drained from her mouth in frightening amounts, making unnatural sounds as it came forth and drained into the tide that licked at their feet. Logan's mind was swirling. No, no, no, Mariko, NO!
Everything became white. A stinging sprayed across his back. Thunder boomed. He turned to see the tallest boulder shattered by lightning. He turned back to Mariko, putting his hand on her neck and chest.
No heartbeat.
"Mariko!" he screamed, eyes starting to moisten.
He inhaled and pushed his mouth to hers, trying to give some of the limitless life within him. Air filled her lungs, but soon leaked back out. He looked at her, cradling her head. "Mariko, Mariko, it's me, it's Logan, I'm back, wake up.." He felt her heart and neck again.
Nothing.
He screamed like a feral beast, and pressed with great force into her sternum. He heard a snap and felt it give. He continued to press in intervals, then coming back to give her breath. He cupped his hands over her chest again and pressed.
An extraordinary pain seared him. Such love, such adrenaline, such helplessness- it was shot through with electricity as lightning reached down and struck him. All went black.
Mariko's body jolted into consciousness. A great pain filled her. She felt so many things. An incredible coldness, the chilling sting of the wind, the splash of rain and sea, the crushing pain in her chest, the sensation of fire within her, and a burdensome weight that rested upon her legs. She bent her neck down with all her strength and looked to see a body, its flesh all burnt off, and the clothes that had been on it smoldering as ashes. It faced towards the sea, sprawled upon her legs, limp. She inhaled, and pain gripped her, yet her lungs demanded it. With every beat of her heart, a blade seemed to wrench through her heart. She wanted to scream, but could not.
A bright light from above found her. She closed her eyes. The wind chopped at her repeatedly. The weight upon her legs was lifted. Pain shot through her as she felt herself lifted by arms and placed into something. She floated upwards, unconscious.