A/N: Thank you all so much for reading my story. It keeps getting harder and harder to continue, but I'm determined to do it. I'm sorry it takes me so long to update, but my schedules kind of clearing up. This chapter has more to do with Soun Tendo. Read and enjoy.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own Ranma 1/2

Chapter 6: And the Sky Burns Red

"The sickness- the nausea-
The pitiless pain-
Have ceased, with the fever
That maddened my brain-
With the fever called "Living"
That burned in my brain."

- Edgar Allen Poe "For Annie"

To live another day in the excruciating agony and sorrow that he lived in would be a level worse then Hell itself. With each passing day, he becomes blinded by memories of his sweet wife, shot and bleeding to death before his very eyes. He could have easily blamed it on Akane.... but... Akane was not to blame. It was out of love for him that Akane had made her actions, and it was out of love for their daughter that his wife had made hers.

Everyday, without fail, she is before his heavy-lidded eyes. Every night, without fail, she haunts his dreams with the same sweet smile, the same delicate voice, the same overwhelming love and brightness that he missed most when he thought of her. When he suffers most, she is there beside him, a delicate hand on his trembling shoulder, a sweet reassurance whispered in his ear.

Had he not some semblance of sanity, he would have believed that she was still very much alive, standing next to him, keeping him alive from this dreaded disease. But now he lay on the dusty floor of some run down shack of a building, heaving vomit in a battered metal tin. His throat constantly burning from the stomach acid forced up through his lips, and his ratty clothes soaked with spattered blood as he coughs away his life and will.

It would be a mercy to die. If there was any kind of god watching over him, any pitying man that could see him, they would have shot him when his wife died in Akane's arms. But no, he was stuck in some shit hole just north of no where, rotting away with the other half-dozen men dying next to him. It would be a mercy to die. It would be a relief.

"Father?" The voice was delicate, sweet, worried. It was the voice of Kasumi, and she was there beside him, helping him back upon his dirty linens, and covering him lightly with a lovely colored blanket he had never seen before.

"I made it just for you, Daddy. It's just for you." Kasumi whispered, her voice choked with tears, and her eyes shining in the dim light.

"We're all hear daddy. Me, and Nabiki, and Akane. We're all safe." Soun's eyes drifted shut for several moments, his breath shallow and quick. He moaned, "Haruko..." (A/N: Since the series never gave Mrs. Tendo a name, I gave her one. I found it fitting.)

Kasumi's breath caught in her throat. She held off her tears valiantly and whispered, "Yes Daddy... Mommy's hear too. She's always hear with you." Soun opened his glassy eyes again and turned to his daughters, weakly stretching his arms to touch each of them in turn. First Kasumi, his eldest daughter. The daughter that would sit hours on end with him as he stared at his old Go board, willing the pieces to move like they had so many years before when he played with his dear old friend Soatome. Then there was Nabiki. Ah, Nabiki. His stone-faced little money provider, and family supporter. Without her diligent workings and sly mind, they would have been living on the streets far before this terrible ordeal ever occurred. Through her tough appearance and monotonous icy act, she was the most caring, loyal girl he had ever met.

Finally, there was Akane. Dear, sweet, strong Akane. Akane who had been through so much, and complained so little. The headstrong little girl who had emboldened their timid family the first years of their lives in America. Akane had kept all of them afloat - providing gaiety to those who were down, laughter to those who cried, love to those who were most alone, and courage to those who were before so unsure. How could he ever think of blaming Akane for Haruko's death? He saw so much of his late wife in Akane. So much...

"Akane... I could never blame you. Never. I " Hear Soun began to choke, the effort of speaking almost to great for him. But he wanted her to know...

Akane placed a gentle hand on her father's trembling shoulder, and Soun halted with the familiar feeling. So much like her. He wanted them all to know...

"Be strong. I want -" and hear he shuddered, coughing, his hand coming up bloody and slick. He held a placating palm toward his daughters who were in the middle of moving to his aide. He began again in a throaty, weak voice, "I want all of you to live in happiness. For your mother... and for me."

"But father - you'll be alright. You'll -" Nabiki interrupted Kasumi's frantic assurances with a sharp intake of breath. Soun sighed wearily.

"My only regret is that I won't be here to see my beautiful grandchildren; as I know they will be... with such wonderful mothers... " Kasumi took a shaky breath, and leaned on Akane for support. Akane held fast to her sister, her eyes shining magnificently with tears of anguish. Kasumi fell silent as her body racked with silent sobs. Nabiki wiped vigorously at the rivulets of salty tears trailing down her pale cheeks.

"Come on, Kasumi. We had better let him get his rest. Come on, let's go..." Akane lead her hysterical sister out of the shack, but not before touching her father's grimy face gently, whispering, "I'll always love you, Daddy." And smiling one of her magnificent smiles.

Before departing, Kasumi slumped to the floor, grasped her father's chilled hand, and kissed it, looking meaningfully into his eyes and letting out an anguished cry. Nabiki helped her to her feet, and waited until they had left the room - shutting the door softly and carefully, as if the slightest noise might shatter their last shred of composure. Nabiki turned to her father. She had to be strong. She had to give him hope, however false it may be.

"Daddy... you- you don't need to worry about us. We'll be all right, I'll make sure of it." Soun smiled languidly and nodded, too physically weak to do much else. He whispered, "I know", and touched the hand that lay on his bedding.

"And Daddy... don't die on us. It might be too much for Akane to handle. It would be too much for any of us to handle." Soun gave her one last lingering look, so full of meaning that Nabiki had to turn away at its implications. She knew now, and there was nothing she could do about it except to try and keep her sisters protected from such devastation.

"We love you so much daddy. Remember that." Soun watched as she staggered to the rotting door and left without another glance backward. Typical Nabiki. But he knew she would keep her word. Nabiki was reliable that way.

There was a rasping next to him, and one of the other men who occupied this death shack spoke humorously, "You know, those are some... some mighty fine kids you got there buddy. You're... pretty lucky." Soun was quiet a moment, his vision too blurred with tears for him to see clearly, and he smiled, letting the heavy rivulets spill from his eyes and soak his bedding beneath.

"I know."

The afternoon air was heavy with heat, dust, and silence. A silence that could rival the dead's - for anyone who was brave enough to leave there tiny shacks, was left heaving silent sobs behind some rotting shack or another at their own misfortune. They all knew - they would be here for a long time.

Akane sat motionlessly on the dusty floor outside of their new home, staring off into the great expanse of nothingness that surrounded them. She had left Kasumi to Nabiki, who had insisted that Akane stay inside their shack. She had promised innocently, but when she reached the hut, it was far too stuffy inside, so she decided to sit in the shade of its walls outside.

The same man from earlier - Ranma was his name? - occasionally passed by, eyeing her warily. But she knew he was looking after her. He was strange that way. Minutes ticked by so that she lost track of the time and was surprised at the sky abruptly changing colors as the sun set, until it was soaked with a beautiful red, as if the sky was bleeding, caught in a fire lit by the sun, and carried on to the clouds.

She was so fatigued and occupied by her own thoughts that she hardly noticed the man in the distance. He looked vaguely familiar, slouched and staggering, as if he was walking on sheer willpower and his body just followed along for the ride. He was so far away that it was hard to tell, but once she looked at him, really looked at him, she was at once aware that she new the man intimately. It was her father... and he was walking with something in his hand. The object gleamed in the last rays of the sun, and a knot the size of a melon formed in her stomach. Dread filled her every sense... because in his feeble hands, her father held his old samurai katana.

Before Akane could even finish putting this thought together, Soun began his ascent toward the guard's tower. He leapt with nimble feet and a grace she had not identified with her father since their lives in Japan had ended. He was upon the guards before they could blink... but they had a weapon more powerful, more dangerous than a sword - even more so than Soun's burning hate.

The guards hesitated for only a moment, shouting a warning to the old man to stop while he was ahead. They were young, and it was clear they had never killed a man before. Soun continued mercilessly, too consumed by the emotions that had tormented him for far to long. His warrior's cry was stopped short by a loud, cruel, blast. Soun landed on his feet for a moment, and then crumpled to the ground like a Marionette cut from its strings.

Akane froze mid step. Her heart was pounding in her ears, her brain screaming at her in disbelief. She started forward at a run, but was caught by the arm and dragged back. She pulled against the restraint, heedless to the person holding her, and screamed in such agony and such heart wrenching sadness that her captor nearly lost his composure.

She pulled and tugged, screaming, crying, cursing. She was going to kill them. How dare they do this? Not after all she had been through... not after...

And then it hit her. A rush of images crowded her mind, pushing and shoving one painful thought to the next. She screamed again, her cries revealing the most hideous inner pain that one could possibly imagine, her eyes wild, her face wrenched in suffering. She crumpled in exhaustion, still writhing madly on the sand-crusted floor, her hands digging through her hair, pulling and clawing until she had yanked black clumps of it out of her scalp. It was over. She was cured. She remembered everything... and it was tearing her apart.

"Stop it! Stop it Akane! You're hurting yourself! Dammit, I said stop!" Ranma grasped her frantic hands, pulling them down to her sides and hugged her shaking form from behind, trying desperately to stop her before she killed herself. Akane's eyes never left her father, fragile and broken in a heap of torn rags as the sandy cracks in the floor soaked up the syrupy blood that had formed out of his wound.

His noble sword hung limply from his pale hand, the engraved handle shining elegantly from the red sea it laid in. It was on that day that this man so immersed in misery finally felt relief at the expense of his life. Akane shook violently in Ranma's grasp, too weak to struggle any longer. She slipped free of his grasp - Ranma letting her go freely - and crawled over to her father's chilled corpse. The guards had stood there distance, and now they took their leave at Ranma's harsh command.

Akane knelt over his prone form and gently cupped his head in her trembling hands. She brought his face to her bosom and kissed his hand delicately. A tear dropped from her chin, the salty taste still lingering on her lips. She couldn't stop now, the tears were coming rapidly and uncontrollably. They mingled with his blood, and dampened his shirt. They were on their own. She had to be strong for all of them now...

She would work hard in their memory.