I decided that since I was posting a revision of Collapse, a posting of
the slightly revised version of this piece might be in order.
--
**********************************************************************
Stormwalker
<stormwalker@airmail.net> and
<stormer@utdallas.edu>
Computer Science student and Anime fanfic writer (sometimes, anyway)
Storm Warnings -
http://web2.airmail.net/a0011387/
"As a matter of fact, I do think I'm Batman, Miss Asagiri."
- Batman, "BGC/Batman : Darkest Knights" (draft)
**********************************************************************
Those who know me well know that I tend to become very attached to
characters that I write. The characters of Bubblegum Crisis are no
exception, and several times during the writing of Collapse I broke down
into tears... especially in the end, over poor Nene.
I wrote this story in an effort to purge some of that emotion, to get
it back out. It is not much, I fear, but it served its simple purpose,
and I hope that it was well written in the process... though I'll not be
upset if you think otherwise.
In a way, this is part of my revengefic... set long after the other
events have ended. In another, it can be considered an addendum to my
author's notes for Collapse... as an expression of how that story made
me feel. Either way, I hope that it has meaning to you. If not, feel
free to discard it... won't bother me at all.
Oh... btw. The title comes from a song in Bubblegum Crisis 3, so if the
translation isn't right, blame AnimEigo... not me. So there.
Anyway...
Stormwalker presents...
Wasurenaide
(Don't forget)
A short fanfiction by Douglas A. Reeves
Stormwalker sat at her desk, head in her hands, crying softly. The
room was silent, save for the soft hum of the computer, and dark, except
for the light from said machine's screen. Had anyone been there to read
them, the words on that screen would have spoken volumes.
Opening her eyes, she looked at herself... perhaps it was fitting that
the hot water had run out... a penance of sorts. Right now, she felt
that she deserved it. Certainly, the curse made the memories that much
stronger, and the torment that much worse.
Composing herself as best she could, she reached over and hit the play
button on her CD player, hoping the music would cheer her. It was a bad
choice. The first song... "Konya wa Hurricane". Priss. The late,
perhaps great Priss... who she had killed... who would never sing again,
because of her.
Her mind flew back to her promise... "I will not willfully destroy
you." Had she broken it? She did not know. She had left a memory...
but nothing more. If that was enough... she doubted it.
She had lived with the Knight Sabers, talked and walked, shared meals
with them, even shared a home with them for a time... and still, she had killed
them. How could she destroy something she knew to be real?
"Destroy". There was that word again... but what did it really mean?
If she were a conniver, she might be able to find a way around it... but
would it help? Probably not, she decided. She could run from truth,
but ever it would be on her heels. Better to face it.
Memories flooded into her mind... images, voices, conversations long
since gone. She would forever bear the mark of their entry into her
life... the curse would haunt her for all time. Appropriate, to her
mind.
It was then that a hand rested on her shoulder... a female hand. It
was not her beloved Starblaze, and yet it was oddly familiar. Slowly,
she turned around.
Her visitor seemed almost ethereal, but she recognized her
immediately as Nene. She bit her lip hard, drawing blood, and
lowered her head in shame. "Nene-chan... I am sorry," she sobbed.
"Don't be..." was the softly spoken resonse.
"What--?" she looked up, wondering how the one she had so tortured
could not be angry.
A sad smile graced the young one's face, and she answered in a
near-whisper. "We are dead... but not destroyed. You still treasure us in
your memory, after all."
"But what is memory?"
"For a writer... more than you might think."
"I suppose," onna-Stormwalker conceded, not really feeling any better.
"Trust me. Everyone must die, eventually... the tragedy is to be
forgotten," Nene answered, the words seeming odd from her. Still, she had
been changed more than any.
Onna-Stormwalker just nodded, the tears flowing more slowly now.
"I must be going," the ghostly figure sighed. "Will you promise me
one thing?"
"Anything."
"Don't forget," she whispered as she slowly faded into the air.
Onna-Stormwalker lowered her head and cried.
****
End.
