IN MEMORIAM

What would you do for the woman you loved?

-----

-----

Disclaimer:

Ranma 1/2 is not mine to do with as I please, et cetera

-----

-----

-EPILOGUE: GOODBYE-

This is the first time I've ever been here.

Mother's grave.

She's only been gone for two years now, and I still remember what she looks like, I can still picture her in my mind as if I'd seen her just yesterday. Her face, her hair, that pigtail she always wore, her sad expression. Always sad, except when she talked about the past, when she talked about father and everything they had shared before he...

...before he died.

There, I said it. I never wanted to say it, to believe it. Father died when I was only six. I don't know how he died. I remember he left on a journey to find something to heal mother's sickness, and he never came back. When mom recovered, she never spoke of it. I never learned how he died, or why she had been so sick. Somehow, though, I knew he was gone forever, but I could never say the words until now.

Mother started wearing a pigtail in her hair after that. I guess it was her way of remembering him. I wish I could, but I can barely remember anything. All I really know of my father are the stories mother told me about their younger days, stories that were sometimes too fantastic to believe.

I cherish those stories, they are the only link I have to my father. They were also the only times that I remember where my mother was truly happy, where she smiled a genuine smile.

Sometimes I wonder... after father died, if I was the only thing keeping mother alive. She just seemed so sad, so tired all the time, like this world was a burden that was crushing her, that she barely had the strength to make it through the day. And yet she struggled on, taking care of me, raising me, alone.

She died less than a month after I moved into my own apartment. It was sudden, unexpected. The doctors couldn't figure out why, only that she died peacefully in her sleep.

For two years afterwards I blamed myself. Before I moved out, we had some fight, I can't even remember what it was about, but I said some awful things to her. Then I left, and then she died. I never got to tell her I was sorry. I never got to say goodbye to my mother.

And I blamed myself, wondering if my leaving, the hateful things I had said, had finally been too much, had finally crushed her. For two years I believed that I had killed my mother.

She'd left me a note, a letter in a sealed envelope with only my name on it, as though she knew this was the end and wanted to give me one final message. I never opened it. I just couldn't. I've kept it for two years, unopened, locked away, terrified of what it would say. Somewhere deep inside I knew that in it she'd blame me for all of this, for father, for her... I knew because in my heart I knew I was responsible, that it was all my fault. I've always known.

For a moment I hear the wind howl, feel its touch as it whips around me, chilling me to the bone.

"The fall of night always comes in time," a voice says. "We fear its approach with every breath until it is upon us, and then we learn to cherish it and the dawn it hearkens."

I turn to see who had spoken. The young man who spoke looks like a Chinese peasant, out of place here. His eyes... they hold an emptiness that is agonizing. I know I never saw him here when I arrived.

"Who are you?" I almost demand. How is it that I feel such fear at his presence?

The young man smiles a faint, sad smile as it starts to rain. "I am nothingness. This endless twilight is my curse. The night will never fall for me."

"What does that mean?" I demand.

"It seeks words of hate and pain from the farmer cloaked in scarlet, because it feels nothing but sadness." He points at my coat, at the pocket containing mother's letter. Why did I bring it with me? "It will know better. Hurt, pain, sadness, they are petty things bound to this mortal world. The farmer in scarlet and her horse have found their place. They will walk together, cloaked in the light of day."

Then he turns and walks away from me, casually strolling as though the rains that were falling with increased ferocity were of no concern to him.

"Omi!" I hear Kazuya call. He'd agreed to wait by the car while I visited mother's grave. Now he comes bearing an umbrella. Without a word he snaps the umbrella open and covers me with it, offering the handle to me. "You didn't take an umbrella with you," he finally says.

I'd asked him to stay behind, but now I feel grateful. "I can't take your umbrella," I tell him, the mysterious visitor already forgotten. "You'll get soaked." This was always like him. Generous to me to a fault.

"I'll be fine," Kazuya says, unwavering in his desire to give me his umbrella. "It's not too far to the car."

"No," I say. Somehow, I don't want him to go. I wanted to be alone in this, alone in my grief, but now I don't. "Please, share it with me?"

He says nothing, only nodding slightly and moving a little closer. I lean against him and he puts his arm around me, loose, not possessive, but protective, comforting. I can feel where the rain had already soaked him while he was bringing me the umbrella, but I don't mind.

My hand finds its way into my coat pocket, and I feel the envelope containing mother's letter. Was this why I came here? I'd spent two years blaming myself, convinced that I had killed my mother, somehow that I had driven father away. Now I was here, and I... I needed to know.

I slip the letter out of my pocket. It's weird. I feel like I should be nervous, that my hands should be trembling, but they aren't. The envelope opens easily, and I take out my mother's letter, my mother's last message to me.

Dearest Omi,

I don't know where to begin, except to tell you that I love you, and I could never be more proud of you, of the woman you've become. There is so much I wish I could be there to see. I would have liked to be there to see you find your place in this world. I would have liked to be there in person when you walked down the aisle. I would have liked to meet my grandchildren face to face, but that isn't meant to be. I can't be there in body, but I will be in spirit.

Please don't be sad Omi. It's just my time, long deferred. For a time, an unworthy moment, I hated being here. I hated what your father had done to keep me here, and I'm sorry. During those times I wasn't the mother you needed.

My being here caused people hurt and suffering, and for that I can never be forgiven, but it also brought good to this world. It let me have you. I'll always cherish that. My being here allowed you to be brought into this world, and that makes it all worthwhile. Now that you've become the woman I knew you would be, my time has finally come. I'll finally see your father again.

You've made me proud. You've made your father proud. Life won't always be easy, but I know you will do fine. You have your father's strength, and you have Kazuya's love. Whatever problems you two have had, it isn't worth it. Hurt, pain, anger, none of these mean anything, and none last forever. Only love.

Goodbye,

Mother.

I want to cry as I finish reading the letter. I embrace Kazuya, pulling him close to me and just holding him, relying on his strength. With my arms around him, I can see the band of gold on one finger. I remember it now, the fight mother and I had had. Before she'd died Kazuya and I had had some fight, some awful stupid fight, and I'd said I wouldn't see him again. Mother had tried to tell me I was being foolish, and I hadn't listened. I'd been hurt and angry and I just lashed out, shouting at her, telling her that she didn't know anything because father had left her. I can't believe I said that...

She couldn't have known that Kazuya and I would make up after she died, that he'd propose to me... She couldn't have known that we'd be man and wife soon.

"I didn't mean it momma," I whisper. "Honest, I didn't. I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of it."

But she hadn't cared about what I had said to her. The awful things I had said hadn't mattered. Mother loved me, she wanted me to be happy, to make my own place in the world, to be loved.

I let go of Kazuya. He reaches up with one hand and gently wipes the tears away from my eyes. He says nothing, but I can see in his eyes the distress. I know he hates to see me cry, that he can't bear the thought of me being so sad, so I smile for him, just a little.

"Let's go home," I say.

Kazuya returns the smile and nods. Before we leave I take one last look at my mother's grave. I'm sorry, but it's okay, because it didn't mean anything. I can almost imagine her watching us from beyond, smiling at what she sees.

I lean against Kazuya and take his hand as we start walking together.

And to my mother and my father, I finally say goodbye.