CHAPTER NINE: THE GIRL AT NIOMON

Disclaimer: References to "The Chainsmokers," "Cold Play," "Chris Martin," and "Something Just Like This" are intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from the reference. All rights to "Something Just Like This" and its lyrics belong to The Chainsmokers and Cold Play.

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Graves.

Too many of them.

Centuries of seemingly infinite dead stretched out in every direction. The names too were endless, each now just an echo of a shadow lost in Time. The silence was deafening.

He found himself standing at Nishi Otani on the slopes of Mt. Otowa. The ancient structures of Kiyomizu-Dera loomed in front of him. Their long, forlorn shadows fell upward across the cemetery as the setting sun slipped toward the Western horizon. Angry streaks of blazing orange, red, and gold danced in between the shadows. The apocalyptic tableau seemed to be mocking the eternal, inescapable truth of pathetically ephemeral human frailty.

He sensed he was just a stone's throw away from being swallowed up by an abyss of madness. He knew he had to be careful and to think only about why he had come here in the first place. He was not entirely sure what he was looking for, but he somehow knew that he would know beyond any doubt when he had found it.

"Boo!"

Ranma bit down hard on a scream as he whirled in the direction of the voice that had managed to ambush him.

There she stood doubled over in uncontrollable laughter with one hand clutched at her abdomen. The other she braced against one of the stone markers to keep herself from falling over. He noted that she was wearing her familiar peach creme cardigan, dark indigo jeans, and white canvas sneakers.

"That's the fourth time that someone like me has managed to sneak up on someone like you," she said once she had regained some semblance of self-control. "You're really losing your edge."

"Not funny," he answered, doing his best to sound grouchy. He was not really though. He knew he had found what he was looking for, and that made him happy.

She knew too. The familiar, mischievous light gleamed again in those fiery, soul-piercing eyes.

He missed that look. Seeing it again brought him a wonderful sense of comfort — peace even — for the first time in a long time. He eagerly wanted to forget how much he had worried about never having the chance to see those eyes on him like that again. The scent of peach blossoms now filled in the air again too. Everything suddenly seemed a little brighter, even a little warmer too as they stood together in what little remained of the mid-Autumn sun.

"I'm glad you finally came to Kyoto. I was born here, you know," she said. A subtle, but unmistakable undertone of pride rang in her voice.

He knew, and of course he came. It was the right thing to do. Coming for her would always be the right thing to do.

"You must be hungry," she noted. "If not, I'm sure you will be soon."

She wanted to take him to Gion. She wanted to walk if that was okay with him. The trek would take under just half an hour, but it would give them time to talk.

He offered to call for a cab, adding that he had enough money now to do things like that.

She laughed as she declined. "Only if you feel you can't make it on your own 2 feet."

He replied to her deft challenge with a knowing smirk. He loved that she understood that about him. Knowing so made him happy.

She led three or four steps ahead of him with a stride quick and animated with a confident sense of purpose. Clearly, she had been here before.

Her movements reminded him of that first day at Himonya on the tree-lined path. This time, however, she had her hand in his. It was nice.

She began humming happily as they made their way between the traditional-appearing shops and homes along the streets of Ninenzaka and Sannenzaka. He had almost forgotten how beautiful her voice truly was, especially when she was singing. It had been so long. Even the most vivid recollections of his heart paled in comparison to the truth. A bone-chilled shudder traveled down his spine as he listened.

Soon, they came upon the ancient white and orange mass of Yasaka Jinja. As they crossed the street in front of the shrine gates, he asked her about the song. He knew she was waiting for him to do so. The melody sounded vaguely familiar, something either from Europe or America.

She nodded; he was right. The song was an old one written by Chris Martin and the British band Coldplay (1). It was one of her favorites.

The narrator recalls a time when it used to feel like he ruled the world; seas would rise merely at his word.

Now, however, he only sweeps streets that he used to own. He believed – took for granted even – that he once held all the keys, only to find the walls collapsing all around him as he realised that he was living in a castle built upon pillars of salt and sand.

Now the mob waits to receive his head on a silver plate. He finally understands that he was merely just a puppet all along dangling on a lonely string.

Now the bells of Jerusalem ring in the ears of his haunted mind. Choirs of Roman cavalry sing all around him. He beseeches them to be his mirror, his sword, and shield, missionaries marching forth in distant foreign fields in the name of his futile cause.

At the end of the Day, as he comes to the gates of Heaven and the queue of souls arriving for Judgment, somehow he knows that St. Peter will not be calling his name.

"That sounds terrible!" Ranma remarked in horror. To him, the whole thing sounded like a vision straight out of Hell.

She laughed. "Not at all! It's beautiful."

"How's falling from grace to be drawn and quartered by a mob 'beautiful'?!"

"Details, details," she said with a nonchalant wave of her hand. "The song is beautiful because of its lyrical candor. This narrator is just making an honest confession."

His eyes boggled with incredulity. "Some details are everything!"

She laughed again. "You're missing the point. Beauty is truth, and it's allowed to be discordant with reason. In fact, it precedes reason, and reason is what is obliged to catch up with beauty."

"But still…!"

"Oh, Ranma, Ranma," she chided with a rueful shake of her head. "Sometimes, a song is just a song, and it doesn't have to be anything more than that. The inability to concede these kinds of simple points is one of the great shortcomings of these Existentialists and precisely why they end up causing themselves whole lifetimes of angst. The worst part is that most of them never realise that all of that angst is all of their own making. It's as much a choice as any of the others that they extol as virtues. You do realise that even Sartre believed in love in the end, right?"

She had made him dizzy. He did not know what to say.

"Beauty is not really about pain. Beauty is about candor. It just so happens that pain is one of those things that has a tendency to make people candid."

"But not happy."

"Well, you have to start somewhere," she said, fixing him now with luminous, piercing eyes. The weight of her gaze was unnaturally heavy. He was on the verge of looking away when she started walking again and humming something else to herself.

This melody too was beautiful. It also sounded like one from America or Europe. This time, however, he was afraid to ask about the meaning. He did not want to ruin it.

She knew what he was thinking anyway. He knew when she laughed yet again before telling him.

It was another Chris Martin song, but this time a collaboration between Coldplay and an American band called The Chainsmokers.

This time the narrator talks of reading books of old legends and myths, all grand and beautiful. Knowing this leads him to lament over how he's just a normal mortal human being, nothing special or extraordinary, nothing anywhere near like ancient heroes like Achilles with his golden armor or Hercules and his God-given gifts. He is not like a modern comic book hero either; not self-restrained like Spiderman; trained and disciplined like Batman with his fists; or even Superman unfurling his large suit before he lifts off.

None of that matters though, at least not to the woman who loves him. Even if he were any or all of those things – someone with superhuman gifts, a superhero, or fairytale character – that is not what she is looking for. She is not even looking for someone to save her; she will do that for herself, thank you. All she wants is just someone who she can turn to; who she can kiss; and who can and will stand reliably beside her.

Something normal.

"Something very much like this," she whispered as she took his arm and leaned in close. The scent of peach blossoms filled in the air around him as he found himself blanketed with the comfort of her warmth.

So this was how "normal" felt.

It was indescribably beautiful.

The desolate memory of the graves at Nishi Otani in the shadow of Kiyomizu faded easily now into the darkness behind them.

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Despite being a landlocked city surrounded by mountains on three sides, the seafood in Kyoto tasted surprisingly good. She offered to race him for the final piece of nigiri between them, a rich piece with sea urchin piled generously high. He laughed without thinking, which elicited a smirk in reply.

"I'm serious," she said plainly. "Maybe you're the Heir to an ancient school of martial arts, but I'm going to win."

Now, he became intrigued. "You're that sure, huh."

She nodded. "Aren't you going to ask me how I know that?"

He shrugged. "Why?" he said gamely.

"Because I know you. I've seen you now through my trinity of eyes."

"Huh?"

The next moment, he saw her licking her lips in smug satisfaction. "That's the best uni I've had in a long time."

He blinked in stunned amazement at the now-empty platter in the middle of the table. He had not even seen her move. "H-How…?"

"Anything goes," she said with a nonchalant shrug as she dabbed demurely at the corners of her lips with her napkin.

"But…?"

He felt the warmth of her slender, dainty fingers on his chin. They were soft and gentle, but unyielding and unapologetic as they closed his gaping mouth for him.

"Try not to think too hard," she said coyly. "Have more faith in your own eyes, and accept the truth that you see: you lost."

"I, uh…."

She laughed again. "This is getting too serious. Let's go for a walk."

The moon loomed low now in the early evening sky as they re-emerged on the street. She told him that the indigenous North American peoples referred to this particular moon as the Hunter's Moon. This one appeared particularly large and had a uniquely vibrant orange-red hue. It meant that Winter would be coming again soon.

Leaves began to crunch underfoot as they turned onto Shijo-Dorii and began making their way under the ancient willow trees alongside the Shirokawa Canal. He found himself reminded of Naka-Meguro back home and the days of Spring and Summer in which he had first discovered how funny and witty, refreshingly cool and sophisticated, always unapologetically frank and candid, and yet surprisingly sensitive she was in her insights. Even though he had never been here before, he felt as if he had come home to an old friend after having been away for a very long time.

Eventually, they made their way back up towards Yasaka Jinja before turning off to the East back towards Mt. Otani.

"Where are we going?"

She smiled. "Well, you came here for a reason, right? We're going for the answer to that question you keep asking."

"Which one is that?"

"Why Icarus came to Kiyomizu-Dera, of course."

"Oh, right," he said. "Wait! Doesn't the temple close at sunset?"

"Yeah," she grinned back at him. "That's exactly why this is the best time to go."

"Wouldn't we be trespassing?"

"Come on!" she said, tugging impatiently at his hand. "Don't be such a prude. Anything Goes, right? We're just going after a bit of truth. Hardly anything wrong with that."

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He disagreed with Kasumi.

Even from Niomon, the main gate to the temple grounds, Kiyomizu-Dera felt every bit as grand and beautiful as Nabiki had drawn it.

He stood with her at the top of the steps beneath the two-story entrance. Two stone lions stood on either side of them. The lavish Heian era orange, white, and green livery of the grand structure jumped out at him. It looked more like a Shinto shrine itself rather than the gate of a great Buddhist temple.

By now, the air had turned from pleasantly cool to actually cold. Wind lashed at his face and whipped up leaves strewn along the ground into small, frenzied circles around them.

He reached out for her. She came and let him fold her in his arms. She felt incredibly soft and warm. He wondered if he was the one giving warmth to her or if the reality was actually the other way around.

"You've come such a long way to be here," she said as she affectionately stroked his cheek with the tips of her fingers. "I really am glad that you came, but you must be tired."

"I'm not," he said. "I'm just… finally happy."

"That's good," she replied. "That's very good. You can't make anyone else happy if you're not first happy with yourself."

He smiled. "Then ya must be happy too."

She nodded. "Yeah. I am. For the first time in a long time too. I believe again."

"Again…?" He was very confused now. "When did ya stop?"

She smiled again. "Doesn't matter. What does is that you're here. That's why I can believe in possibilities again, ones which are more magical and beyond all rational capacity to believe."

He suddenly felt very sleepy, but so comfortable and at peace. All he wanted to do was put his head down on her shoulder and rest.

"I know," she said, as if reading the thoughts directly out of his mind. She pressed her head tenderly against his shoulder, wrapped her arms around him, and reached up to stroke his hair. "Just rest. I'll be here when you wake up, and everything will be clear. I promise. It's the least I can do since you came all this way."

The last thing he remembered as he closed his eyes was the sight of her thick bangs dancing alluringly in the breeze, accentuating the flawless porcelain complexion of her delicate heart-shaped face and the fiery, soul-piercing luminescence of her bold, brown eyes.

Have more faith in your own eyes, and accept the truth that you see….

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He awoke to find himself lying on the ground with his head in her lap. They were still at Niomon, and she was still there as she had promised. Now, however, she appeared with long hair pinned up in a prim bun atop her head.

A chilled shudder tore through the very essence of his bones. He remembered the graves at Nishi Otani and understood now who was here with him and had been all along.

This was not Nabiki.

The two of them really did look alike though. It was also clear where her mischievous sense of humor came from.

"You've really been stirring up quite a hornet's nest in my home for some time now, Ranma-kun," the ghost chastised. There was an amused twinkle in her eyes, however, that that was undoubtedly there to put him at ease. "I thought I should see for myself just what all this fuss is about the rabble rouser that you are."

"I, uh…." He felt a red, embarrassed heat coursing through his now very flushed cheeks. He hastily scrambled out of the ghost's lap and into a cross-legged sit across from her. "Sorry about that," he said as he gave her a low bow. "I, well, I…."

"Relax!" the ghost said with a delighted laugh. "I won't bite you. I'm not that kind of undead spirit. It is good to finally meet you." The ghost gave him a pleasant, charming tilt of her head. "I can see very clearly why my three little sets of eyes love you as much as they do."

Three…?!

"Wait…! So ya mean….?"

She laughed even harder now. "Look, Ranma-kun. I admit that you actually can be quite the lady's man. I can even see why my youngest always feels compelled to hit you. Even you, however, aren't good enough to be every girl's type or loved in that way by everyone; you're just another normal boy in this sense. That's a good thing. Besides, aren't my Na-chan and little Akane enough on your plate as is?"

"Yes, about that, I'm really sorry."

She waved him off. "Don't be. You're just a boy who fell in love with a girl. I agree with Kasumi-chan; there's nothing wrong about that. What's not right is the assumptions that everyone else has made about whom you could or should be with. You, Na-chan, my little Akane, even my husband — everyone has suffered because of those assumptions. I'm sorry."

These things came from bad seeds planted long before he even came to Nerima. The fish had been rotten from the head for a long time. She took the blame and responsibility for that. She should have done better preparing her husband and daughters to go on living even after she was gone.

For these reasons, she had asked him to meet her here now. Everyone concerned still had choices that could be made and ways still to make things happen. She would tell him as her way of making amends.

"Brilliant as Na-chan is, she also still has no idea how wrong she is about things. Love is not an obstacle to an individual's destiny. You don't have to meet Na-chan at a place like Nishi Otani."

"How?" he asked the ghost.

"With my husband, it would be good if both you and Na-chan could be patient and give him a chance. He's just a boy who fell in love with a girl too, but he's a good person who's only ever wanted to do the right thing. It's just that sometimes the 'right thing' is not so easy to see. The answer for dealing with him is the words that he gave you at the beginning. He can't take those back anymore."

I have three daughters. Pick the one you want. If she agrees, she'll be your fiancée….

"For Nabiki and Akane?"

The ghost smiled again. "Blood," she told him.

"Huh?"

"The answer is written in your blood – for both Nabiki and Akane."

"I don't — "

"Time is short now, Ranma-kun. Remember what I've said, and trust your eyes and ears. You'll know just as you knew when you first came to Nishi Otani to look for me…."

Just then, the first rays of sunlight appeared over the horizon. The ghost appeared unspeakably beautiful as she stood and began to shimmer and fade in the light falling upon her.

"I believe again in possibilities because you came. For the same reasons that Kasumi-chan believes that you can convince my Na-chan that Icarus didn't actually crash and die alone in the Icarian Sea when he reached for the Sun."

Akiko Tendou turned and bowed once to him as the sun rose behind her.

Then she was gone.

All that remained were ashes interred in a stone marker at Nishi Otani bearing her name.

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