Revenge: Part Four

Written by: Liz Donovan

December 24th, 1987. The sky was littered in snow flakes and filled with howling winds. The roads were bare and the streets white with snow. Very few people were out this night, the cold nearly unbearable, blanketing Nerima in silent whiteness. With the Christmas season upon the people now it wasn’t too much of a surprise for the coldness in the air and the lack of people on the streets. After all, it was the day before Christmas, and many people were snuggled up at home in the embrace of a loved one, drinking cocoa and exchanging presents. Some though were out at dinner parties celebrating the season and welcoming the turn of the new year.

Not many restaurants were open that night, but some were, and people seemed to flock to those that were open. Perhaps for an escape from the cold, or a haven to eat a meal and spend time with a loved one, or ever perhaps to share a few drinks with friends and party a little. Now the hour had grown late, and even the Christmas Eve open restaurants were closing so the employees could go home and wake anew for the Christmas day. One such restaurant that had just since closed was the Nekohanten, the drapes just pulled down and the Welcome Neko taken from the door.

The hour struck just past ten and a furious wind shook against the awning. Mousse stood in front of the counter, dressed in his long kimono with the purple and yellow diamonds on the front. His hair hung long behind him and he peered through his bottle thick glasses, smiling nervously. His hands were behind his back, clutching to something as he took a step forward.

She didn’t bother to look at him as she turned about after locking the door and pulling the drapes closed. She still had her apron and Draw-girl outfit on, but she was no longer parading her smiling face to attract customers. Her lips were down in a depression and her eyes pitted back and sunken in as she no longer smiled. Her face was pale and drawn thin and ghastly; the sparkle in her face extinguished. Her tresses of long lavender hair were tightly twisted up and pinned to her head in a bun making her features harder and more sharp as she seemed to be more of a worker than a Draw-girl.

Mousse didn’t care really how she looked. It wasn’t like he could see her that well anyhow. She had finished bolting the door and then turned towards him. She began walking his way, and he started to pull the thing behind his back in front to offer to her. She was so beautiful to him, and he loved her with his every breath. And to think she was his now! That they’d been wedded and made husband and wife. His eyes wavered in remembrance. She hadn’t resisted after he’d beat her. She’d even been best so easily! He knew once Saotome had gone that whatever hold he had on her would have left and she would finally succumb to him, and she had! He knew she loved him…she was just over worked.

"Shan-" he started and she walked past him, through the swinging doors to the back area. She left him there, blinking. "Shan’puu?!" he called after her, and stepped through the doors she just went through. She already was entering her room, and she slammed the door behind her, locking it. Blocking her husband out from her on the Eve of Christmas. He blinked a bit, and his hand tightened around the box in his hands. She loved him…he reminded himself. She loved him…

She paused inside her room, standing there, looking ahead of her. One hand rose and she gently placed it on her chest, and heaved in, painfully. She swallowed, and sighed her eyes half closing. She looked to the small window in her room seeing the flurries of snow dancing along outside her room, and she swallowed and exhaled, stepping forward into her room. She leaned against the bed a little, and bowed her head sadly, in remembrance. "Ranma…" she softly whispered, and then raised her head again, to look out at the flurrying snow billowing past.

She remembered the last and only Christmas she’d spent with Ranma. It’d been so impersonal, but she’d not complained because she knew once they married they’d get to share Christmas’s together until they died. If only she’d realized how short that amount of time would be. She lightly closed her eyes and let a few tears escape her eyes. She never cried over anyone but him. He was the only man she ever loved. He was the only man, that honestly beat her. Mousse had now, but she hadn’t been at her fullest power. She didn’t care then, she didn’t care any now. Ranma had beat her, as a girl, after she’d been training for months to enter the annual village competition. He’d beaten her so easily…he was so strong. She swallowed, and nodded, he was the only man for her. There was no other, and she would not be happy with someone else. When he died, half of her died. She opened her eyes, and walked over to her vanity mirror and stood in front of the table there, looking at her ghastly reflection there in the mirror.

And one should be all dead, when one is half dead…

She sat down at the mirror, looking at herself, and reached up, and her fingers found the box on her dresser. She glanced down at it, and her face seemed expressionless. She slid the box across the tabletop to her. It was black lacquer with a painted ocean scene in vibrant colors. On the lid were a few beautifully painted Chinese characters in red and gold. She gently moved her fingers to the hinges that locked and snapped the box shut, and flicked the catches open with a soft ping.

It was lined in dark red velvet and resting on the cushioned interior was a glittering seppuku knife. She drew her eyes along the blade, it glistened in the dull light of her room. She reached down, and lifted it out of the box holding it by the handle. She had failed her rights as an Amazon. She’s allowed herself to be beaten an married to an unworthy man. She’d lost the man she loved…and she never tried to stop him from falling. She pressed her eyes closed at the memory of Ranma’s fatal plight down the stairs.

And one should be all dead, when on is half dead…

She did it there, looking at herself in the mirror. Without a word edgewise and no remorse as she did. And the last thought that fluttered through her mind, before she fell and collapsed to the floor was the fleeting though…"Dear, will you ever understand?"

The next morning the snow was shimmering and blindingly white as the sun rose and bathed her room in light. Outside children could be heard playing excitedly. It was Christmas morning, and the world was awaking to the fresh fallen snow and a house full of presents. The air was nip and the steam from the houses wafted up silently. A rap on her door.

No answer.

Another one, and yet still no reply. The knob lightly shook, and discovered it was locked. A few words of concern through the door, then shake the knob again. Moments pasted into minutes and suddenly the door swung open and a form raced in. A glance to the bed insured she wasn’t there. A look to the intact window proved she didn’t escape to the night. A spot of red caught his eye, and he turned his head. Eyes widening as he followed the pool of blood to the source and-

"SHAN’PUU!!!" he screamed, jolting up in bed, heart pounding, breathing ragged and harsh. He blinked tears back in his head, and clutched his chest, covered in sweat and fear. He swallowed sickly and eyes looked about frantically in the blackness. "Lights!" he cried and the room illuminated in brightness. He threw the covers off him and swung his legs over the side of the bed, bending at the waist, elbows resting on knees. He bowed his head, resting it in his hands running his fingers through his hair, breathing sharply, trying to calm himself from the nightmare. "Shan’puu…" he muttered softly and swallowed the pain in his voice.

It was times like these he got up and went to work in the middle of the night. Nights after these nightmares that he sat up, unable to sleep, and worked mindlessly on his project. Eating nothing, only drinking coffee to sustain him. And he’d work that way for hours, and get lost in the parts and the machines, until sleep finally found him, leaving him too exhausted to dream, and he’d pass out, propped up against the machine. He raised his head a bit.

It was nights like these that kept his passion alive. Kept him working and plotting his revenge. Kept him from doing as she did. From being weak and taking his life, even if the means were justifiable. He’d prove to her, in life even after death, that he wasn’t some weak fool. That he could be a worthy man for her. That he…he…

He stood up and walked to the mirror. He pressed his palms to either side of it, slumping forward a bit, and looked at his reflection in it. His dark eyes seemed cold and pained bloodshot. His face was drained of color, as though he’d just re-relived that experience again. Finding her there…in a pool of blood, hair sprawled out and lifeless… He shivered at the thought and turned the water warm on, waiting for it to heat up. He touched his chin, and cheeks, rubbing his hand along the stubble on his face. He yawned, sleepily, and smacked his mouth a few times. Then he cupped some of the warm water in his hands and splashed his face, trying to awake himself.

He seemed to get himself awake and going, and he stumbled out of the bathroom, leaving the faucet running and the lights on. He walked into his illuminated room and stood in the center of it She’d done it. She took her life. He knew that her choice had been hard. That she’d struggled with it. He bowed his head a little. But she loved Ranma….not himself. Without Ranma, she had no reason to live. She’d failed herself, and her heart.

He walked over to his desk, and stood, looking down at it. He should have known she was unhappy. He should have known that she wasn’t in love with him. She never smiled. She would not lay with him, though they’d been married almost two years. She wouldn’t…He tightly closed his eyes, fists clenching. …she wouldn’t even smile at him. She loathed him that much. For living while Ranma perished. He’d been so blind! "Auuuuugh!" he cried, and slammed his fist into the wall, cracking the plaster in his anger. He seethed, breathing heavily. "I was so greedy! Ranma! It should’ve been me!" he growled and pressed his eyes closed tightly, not willing tears.

After a moments ringing silence, he exhaled, and dropped his hand from the now dented wall. He straightened up, and walked to his closet. He pulled the white issue lab coat out, and donned it, then without another through slipped on his pants, stepped into his shoes and exited his apartment. Shortly he was on his way down the streets, driving his black car, angry. He was unshaved, his hair tangled an d hanging unkempt. His clothes were dirty, his eyes red. He no longer cared. He had to get his mind of all this, lest he go mad!

The warm blackness of nighttime at night was pierced by a shrill cry. There was no movement in the darkness and it almost seemed as though perhaps the cry hadn’t been. The silence wrapped about it and kept it muffled, seclude and warm. Then it was pierced again with the cry. A voice seemed to groggily mutter, and thrash about. A slap, then a bang. Finally a click and…

"Hello?" Nabiki groggily murmured into the phone, rubbed her eyes, and squinting at the digital clock display. She fumbled about, and slipped her glasses on. It was 2am. "Hello?" she repeated, and then sighed and sat up in bed. "Who ever the Hell you are, quit calling me, or I’ll get a twenty-four hour tracking service on your ass so fas-"

"Nabiki?" she was cut off. Nabiki blinked as the caller knew her name. She shivered a bit, and swallowed, glancing out the window into the blackness of the night.

"Yes…?" she hesitantly answered.

"Nabiki, its me…" the voice said, unaffectionately. "…Miyoko."

Nabiki blinked and looked at her watch to confirm the time. All fear leave her and she cried out: "Miyoko, why on earth are you calling me at 2am?!" she sneered.

Miyoko muttered on the other line and answered. "We need you to bail us out of jail."

"JAIL? Why are you in jail?! Mitake’s with you?" she questioned, not moving to get up.

"Yeah, he’s here. So is Jiyu. Uh…I don’t have long….can you just come down to the station and pick us up?" she replied, obviously not liking it.

"Why should I bother? You got yourself there." Nabiki coldly answered. She loved her niece and nephew, but they were the worst trouble makers in the world. "A nigh tin jail might serve you good." She added, and shook her head. "Call me in the morning." And with that she hung up, rolled over, and went back to sleep.

"Bitch!" Miyoko screamed aloud as the phone clicked and Nabiki was off. "Dammit! I hate her! How hard is it to pick us up?! She practically owns the police station. Dammit! Dammit!" she turned and punched the wall, then winced a little. "Son of a -"

"Miyoko…" Mitake interrupted. She turned, then looked up at smiled at the officer who loomed down at her.

"Heh-heh…." She smiled sweetly, and the office grabbed her arm and started dragging her away. Mitake followed close behind. The officer dropped her off in front of a reception desk. There Jiyu sat on the counter, swinging his legs. Miyoko shook her arm free from him. "Let go of me, you creep…" she muttered. The officer laughed looking down at her, then turned and left. She attempted to fix her school jacket.

"No bail, huh?" Jiyu asked, indifferently.

"Nope. Mrs. Scrooge won’t ruin her beauty sleep to pick us up." Miyoko spitefully replied.

Mitake shrugs, putting his hands in his pockets. He seemed to be optimistic. "It can’t be that bad here." Jiyu cheerfully agreed.

"Its great, really! I’m here often!" he said gladly.

"A little too often, I’d say." A voice came approaching from behind. Jiyu turned and looked at a woman with black hair and green eyes wearing an officers uniform looking at him. She was about five foot six, tall, but she wasn’t beautiful. She blended in with the male cops and worked the reception.

"Kingyo-mawari!" Jiyu happily cried at her. Kingyo looked at Jiyu sternly, shook her head and broke into a smile.

"Jiyuchan, what’re you doing here again?" she asked, sitting down and looking at her clip board of names. "And get offa my counter…" she added. Jiyu hopped down and stood on his toes to look over the counter to see her.

"We got caught!" he muttered, upset.

"We?" she questioned, looking up to Miyoko and Mitake.

"Oh yeah! Kingyo-mawari, this is Miyo and Mita! My friends. Mita and Miyo, Kingyo-mawari! She’s a good friend of mine!" he nodded enthusiastically. Mitake smiled and waved and then shook Kingyo’s hand. Miyoko grabbed Jiyu by the shoulder, and pulled him close to her.

"You’ve been to jail before?!" she harshly whispered, staring at him. Jiyu, nodded and blinked up at her.

"I was born in jail, Miyo…" he stated. She released him, and blinked.

"Jiyuchan?" Kingyo called. He held Miyoko’s look a moment longer, then turned to look up to her.

"Hai?" he replied.

"Here for the night?" he nodded yes to her question. She threw him a pair of keys. "You got your old cell back." She muttered and then swiveled in her chair, and began typing on her computer console. Jiyu caught the keys and his eyes lit up.

"Thanks Kingyo-mawari!" he cried happily. "C’mon guys, I’ll show you my cell!" he grinned, and took off running through the station.

Miyoko and Mitake watched him, then looked at one another. Then they turned and took off after him, catching up quickly as he lead them to his childhood home.

* * *

She awoke in the nights blackness, alone, cold, fear lurking close. She was damp from dew, and she sat up, the sky shrouded in black ominous clouds. She shivered a bit, and looked about her. There were no streetlights. She didn’t know where she was. She whimpered a little to herself, blinking, trying to see better. She was icy. The winds blew and her dress offered such little warmth. She swallowed, afraid to move. Afraid to get to her feet, and make sounds. Scared that something might happened to her. That she might get hurt. That she’d be trapped. She looked up into the black sky, then about herself, lonely. She let long moments pass in the night. Her teeth chattered together, her hands tried to warm her shoulders. She drew her knees to her chest and sniffled a bit, unsure of what to do now. She’d never been out in the open like this, alone at night. She let more long moments pass, and finally she mustered the courage up and got to her feet. She could seem something now. Blackness against blackness. She was on a hill of wet grass. She remembered her picnic today, and her dance with the sun hat. He blanket couldn’t be too far away. She looked about herself. She turned a circle. But…which way? She shook her head. This park was huge. Only one way lead to the trail, the rest just lead deeper into the park. She swallowed. Might not she should just wait until morning came? She shivered more, and turned looking some. Could she survive that? She took a slow step down the hill. She’d come up the hill. Her things were below the hill…right? She remembered chasing the hat…that spiraling hat….it’d taken her so far away. This might not be the same hill. This could be another place entirely. What if it were the other way? She winced, and turned to walk back to where she’d been, perhaps see some lights at the summit. Her bare toes squished in the damp grass. The ground went slick. Her left foot lost its traction, and she fell to her knee, and tumbled backwards, her right foot twisting, then losing purchase as well as she cascaded down, sliding. She was on her back and rear, and turned sideways, and slid down the entire hill, and came to a rest at the bottom. She shivered, and wiped tears from her eyes. She was scared more now. She didn’t know where she was. She looked about, and moved to stand again. She nearly cried out as she took to her right foot. It has twisted in her fall, and she might have bruised it. She limped a bit, then smacked right into a tree. She clung to the bark, and raised her right foot some, getting off it. She sniffed more and shivered, one side completely wet now, and her ankle bruised. She glanced at the tree, then to behind her. She could almost make out more trees, and she swallowed. It was the forest. She’d gotten to the forest from the park! How could she have…how…she winced against and shivered. She knew it was futile to walk in this darkness, on her now bad ankle. What else worse could happen to her? She leaned against the tree and then saw a spot of light. Overhead the clouds were breaking up, and a single star poked through. She looked at it earnestly and swallowed. She watched it momentarily vanish behind another cloud, then that broke apart and more stars near it became visible. She stood there, leaning against the tree, and watched the clouds break up, lost in hopeful silence. Then the entire field lit up in silverness as the clouds moved and unveiled the moon. A rapid succession of light wan light spread out over the field, and the almost full moon looked down at her. She took a step away from the tree, tendering her right foot, and turned to face the moon. She closed her eyes, head tilted up, and she sighed grateful at least for this light. The wind tousled her black hair and billowed her white dress about her, drying her. She almost smiled, having a feeling of the soaring freedom of earlier. She tilted her head a little, and sighed. A thud of something heavy falling on the wet grass made her turn about. She swallowed, looking at a man, her hands going up to her mouth to cover her having been startled at his sudden appearance. Neither spoke, and the silence was powerful. The wind even momentarily died down, as the two strangers looked at one another. He stared at her hard, eyes wide, bewildered, and his deep voice then broke the silence.

"A…Akane?!"

To Be Continued…