Five years later…
The city of Townsville!
One wouldn't think that Townsville could boost such an impressive population. It was no secret that the city had long been bombarded by every sort of attack imaginable. Monsters, bank robbers, evil mutated villains, freak forces of nature, aliens… you name it, Townsville had it.
But Townsville had something else, too. She was their poster child. She was their hero.
And, that cold January night, she was slowly trudging her way through a dark cemetery, flowers in her hands.
She had been one of the Powerpuff Girls. People would still sometimes get nostalgic for those days. Nostalgia didn't change anything, however. One of the girls was dead, and one had run off. But they still had their mascot. Her face appeared on Townsville billboards. She would always be called upon to give speeches at opening ceremonies, special events, and the like. And she still fought crime.
She attended Townsville University… she was a history major, of all things. It probably didn't matter. She'd be working for the city government for the rest of her life.
A cold wind cut at her, and she shivered from underneath her coat.
It had been a couple of years ago when she had started working as a secretary in the courthouse. A job that the mayor was willing to let her leave from any time there was an emergency. Ms. Bellum was the mayor now. The former mayor, after all those years, died just a couple of days after Blossom had. Some people called it ironic. Some people called it strangely touching. The remaining Powerpuff Girl called it maddeningly tragic.
She had told Ms. Bellum that she couldn't possibly keep fighting crime along with a job. She was at that age, after all. She needed a job. Ms. Bellum had been understanding and hired her to work for the city government. She got paid to do her secretarial duties, she got paid to give speeches, she even got paid to save the day.
Everyone in Townsville adored her. She was friendly, polite, well-spoken… and she was tough on crime.
Some people were even starting to forget that, once upon a time, she had been accompanied by two sisters. Two sisters who were fading out of everyone's memories.
The young woman stopped in front of a simple tombstone, adorned with a few American flags and stuffed animals from admirers. Most people were forgetting, but some remembered the calculating, analytical hero, Blossom Utonium.
Her sister stared at the tombstone for awhile, before pulling a loose strand of hair away from her green eyes and finally speaking.
"I can't believe it's been five years."
The headstone gave no answer. Buttercup continued her reverent silence.
Five years ago, it had been Buttercup who had to tell the Professor what had happened. Bubbles had screamed and screamed and screamed before finally tearing off into the air. Buttercup was too dazed to make much of that. She figured that Bubbles would come back once she had calmed down a bit.
She hadn't seen her since.
Buttercup told the Professor the truth, every last detail that she knew. A story that the rest of Townsville didn't know, and would likely never know.
The story printed in the papers, the story told at Blossom's funeral, was that the monster that day had given her a fatal injury, and she had died before reaching the hospital.
Maybe, someday, Buttercup would tell them the truth.
But for now, they didn't know.
They didn't even know what Buttercup had done, after the funeral and before the burial.
Buttercup asked for one last time alone with her sister. It had been a closet-casket funeral. She had looked too ghastly for the coffin to be open. Buttercup didn't even want to see her body again. But she had to. She couldn't avoid looking at her when she opened the coffin up… and placed Mojo in with her.
What else could she have done with his body?
No one noticed. No one suspected, of course. Most of Townsville assumed Mojo had died long before then.
During the burial, Buttercup had been fuming the entire time. Most everyone probably assumed she was angry that Blossom had died. How could they have known that Buttercup had placed the body of her sister's murderer in with her? And yet, it wasn't that simple. Blossom wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for Mojo, but Mojo wouldn't have died if it hadn't been for Blossom.
After all the well-wishers of town had left, and only Buttercup and the Professor were left at the grave, Buttercup's scowl had softened into sadness. It wasn't necessarily accepting, but she still felt a sort of peace… as much peace as she could feel, given the situation, that is.
As for Bubbles… who knew? Buttercup only hoped that Bubbles was finding peace as well, wherever she was.
She had tried communicating with her. It was only until after the funeral that Bubbles finally answered. I'm safe, Buttercup, don't worry about me. I need time alone. I can't stay in Townsville. It's too hard for me. And I don't know if I'll ever be ready to come back. I'm going to create a new life for myself, somewhere where I hopefully won't mess up again.
Bubbles, it's not your fault—
Yes, it is! If I had gotten to that monster sooner it wouldn't have hurt Blossom. And if I hadn't insisted to you that we take Blossom to Mojo before going to the hospital, he wouldn't have killed her, and she might have lived. I'll be alright, Buttercup. Tell the Professor I'm sorry. Tell him I love him, and I love you too.
Buttercup would, on occasion, send a thought to Bubbles, such as on their birthday or Christmas, but Bubbles never answered. Buttercup could only guess at what Bubbles was doing, or where she was. Probably some tiny village in a remote country, where no one would be on the lookout for the lost Powerpuff Girl. She could speak any language, after all. She could 'hide' anywhere. Not like anyone could force her to come back if she was found, anyway.
So it was just Buttercup left in Townsville. Twenty years old, the toast of the city, a fairly bright college student, still living with her father. Buttercup knew that she had to stay with the Professor, and probably always would. Blossom's death alone had crushed him. Bubbles's disappearance only reinforced his grief. He spent all his time at home in the lab, pouring his soul into his experiments, and probably would have become a total recluse if not for Buttercup's care.
For her part, Buttercup tried to keep a bright, cheerful attitude in the house. She'd joke with the Professor, go on outings with him, and, most importantly, give him a hug at least once a day. She never cried in front of him. She never apologized to him that she was the sole remaining Powerpuff Girl—it should have been Blossom, who he always identified with most, or Bubbles, who had been the sweetest and most loveable. But no, the remaining girl was Buttercup—the one who had always been a bit detached from her father; the snarling, sarcastic daughter.
But now she was all he had left.
She didn't cry much anymore. Like Blossom, she hated crying. But when she did cry, she made sure that no one was around.
She could feel herself tearing up right then, looking at Blossom's grave.
"It's so hard, without you," she said. Being the only one left, she still had to be Buttercup. The whole town expected her to be Buttercup. But she also had to be Bubbles, and Blossom, and even Mojo if she wanted absolute perfection. All four of them were needed.
But Buttercup couldn't be a true, perfect blend of herself, Bubbles, Blossom, and Mojo.
Perfection always eluded her.
And it probably always would.
"I think I know why the experiment split," said Buttercup. "Professor wanted us to be perfect… but I don't think perfection exists, not even by science. That's why…" She gulped, leaving the rest unsaid.
Buttercup placed the sprig of flowers on the grave, knowing fully well that the frost would kill them by morning.
"I miss you," she said softly.
A tear fell from her face and onto the flower, freezing there.
Sniffing back further tears, Buttercup flew away, leaving her crystallized tear frozen on the small, dying blossom.
THE END.