I wrote this one pretty quickly. It was just an idea that struck me and I 
had to get it off of my chest.

	Joseph Ashira Kohle

     
                                         Last Moments
                                      A Ranma � fanfic
                                       by Joseph Kohle

All character of Ranma � are the right and property of Rumiko
Takahashi.
The author uses them without her permission.
This work is not intended for sale. It is a fanfiction written for those
who enjoy the Ranma series.


     Slowly his steps carried him across the worn stone path,  twisting
among the flowering cherry trees, winding through the garden of stone
markers. How many people had come this way before? Climbing past
these silent testaments to human impermanence, loved ones by their
side for comfort, or like him alone and grief-stricken. The stones said
many, too many.
     And now he was one more added to that number, one more who
was slowly climbing to make his last respects, to fix what had never
been fixed, to say what had never been said. He knew it would ease his
tortured heart just as acid relieved a burn. There were no doubts about
the futility of his actions, the emptiness of his intentions, but he was
going through with this despite all of that. Humans have always been
good at doing what was right after the last moment had passed.
     He had not gone to the entombment. To see her buried in the earth
was too final for him, too painful. He had not wanted to let go, to
admit that she was really gone. His friends had tried to convince him to
go, but he had just locked himself in his room, refusing to listen. The
viewing had been bad enough.
     Rigidly he had sat through the comments, his face calm and
composed. It had taken all of his strength not to cry, not to break down
during that time, but then he had approached the casket to look at her
one last time, to say his farewells. 
     They had laid her in dark oak coffin, half of the lid open to reveal
her angelic face illuminated by a soft white light, her upper body
wrapped in the white, funeral kimono. She had looked so perfect, so
beautiful, so peaceful. 
     Everything had stopped for him when he had seen her face, eyes
closed, modeled into cold perfection by the morticians to become a
human doll. He tried to say the words, to find them. He wanted to tell
her that he loved her, that he always had, that he always would, but
nothing came. Finally he just leaned over her silent body and gently
kissed her forehead, the cold skin stiff beneath his lips.
     Something had broken inside of him, opening a floodgate of
emotion. Tears stung his eyes as a sob wracked through his chest.
Spinning he had rushed from the viewing, but his father had grabbed
him by the arm as he ran and pulled him back. "You will stay." 
     He had lashed out, striking his father's face. "It's all your fault! I
should've been here. I should've been here, not training. I hate you! I
hate you!" turning he had escaped out the door and returned to the
Tendo Dojo and his room, where he had curled up and cried for his
loss. 
     A week had passed since the funeral, a week in which he had stayed
in his room, crying, refusing to speak to anyone. Her death had been
the worst blow in his life. He had not even been here when she died. He
had been in the mountains, training with his father. They had tried to
find them, but the illness had come without warning and with such
ferocity that she had died in a few days. There had been nothing anyone
could do, and now he was unable to say good-bye, to tell her what he
had needed to tell her.
     For that he could never forgive his father. He knew it wasn't fair.
How was he supposed to know what was going to happen? That she
would die while he was gone? No one, but he still blamed his father, for
taking him away from her.
     There had been so many things that he had wanted to say, so many
things he had wanted to do with her. How he wanted to tell her he
loved her whenever she smiled at him. That when she touched his hand
he only wanted to hug her and tell her he was sorry, explain everything,
make everything right between them. Most of all he had just wanted to
be truthful to her, just once.
     They had only had such a short time together, but she had been
someone he wanted in his life, needed in it. He had just been so scared
to tell her, to let her know the truth. Now she would never know.
     A small breeze brushed past him, swirling cherry blossoms in a
delicate ballet, a lively dance mocking the heavy weight in his heart.
Why did they make cemeteries so beautiful? Why the flowering trees
and immaculate lawns burgeoning with fresh life and vitality, when they
only masked the grim face of death.
     It was a mockery of his emotions, the hollow emptiness in his
stomach the tears brimming in his eyes. She shouldn't be here. No one
should be here. This should be a dark, desolate place, like his grief.
God he missed her so much. He wanted her back. He would do
anything to have the chance again, to make everything right. A single
tear leaked from his eye and he continued his slow procession to her
final resting place.
     The stone marker was in the rear of the cemetery, a small cherry
tree growing beside it. The blossoms swirled around the gravestone,
resting on the smooth stone, mingling with the flowers and wreaths
placed next to stone and on the grave itself.
     Dropping his eyes, he knelt on the soft grass and laid a single white
chrysanthemum on the ground. Tears began to sting his eyes and slowly
roll down his cheeks only to fall into the grass below. As he cried his
chest tightened up, the grief of a lifetime overwhelming him. Leaning
forward he rested his head on the cool stone and began to sob.     
There is a saying that first impressions are forever, but that is not true.
Overtime that impression can be changed and you can be seen in a
different light. Last moments are forever. Last words are forever.
Death is forever. Anything left unfinished, unsaid will always remain so.
Those regrets last forever and never leave. 
     This is why he cried next to the stone marker because he had not
told her how he felt, because he had not gained the courage to go to
her just once. Dr. Tofu had told him her last words when he had
returned. He had said she had been delirious and had not said a word
for several hours, when her eyes opened and she called out, "Where is
Ranma? Where is he?"
     He had been in the mountains training with his father not by her
side, holding her hand. He cried for this, he cried for all the losses in his
life, his heart breaking and his grief carrying him away. 
     Through blurred vision he read the inscription on the stone.. 

                                      Here Lies
                                 Saotome Nodoka
                           Beloved Mother of Ranma
                            Beloved Wife of Genma
                               She will be Missed

     "I'm sorry, Okaasan. Forgive me, please forgive me. I'm not Ranko,
I'm your son." But last moments are final.