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"Autumn and Spring"
by Angus MacSpon

Based on "Ranma 1/2" created by Rumiko Takahashi.

C&C Welcome!

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- 1 -

After the funeral was over Ranma stood for a long time in the cemetery,
alone.  He could sense that the others want to stay with him, offer him
comfort, but for now the idea of company was unbearable.

It was some time before the last of them left, casting concerned glances
back at the man standing beside the grave.  But at last a silence fell.

It was a warm day.  The sky was cloudy, but he could tell that there was
no danger of rain; over the years he had developed a highly-tuned
weather sense.  He stared upward for a long time, dry-eyed, before
finally lowering his gaze to the grave itself.

[Forgive me,] he said soundlessly.  [I can't cry.  Not yet.  How could
I?  You're not gone.  You're still with me.]

He dropped effortlessly into a cross-legged position, without taking his
eyes from the grave.

[Not bad for an old man, eh?  I haven't lost it.  Not like oyaji did,
before the end.]

The day was very peaceful.  The lawn in the cemetery had been cut
recently, and the scent of new-mown grass still hung in the air.  He
inhaled deeply, smiling.

[The children miss you, Akane.  I think they worry about me, though.
They've grieved, they've put your tablet on the butsudan, and now they
want to get on with their lives.  And that's good.  They need to do
that.  But they think I need to carry on, too.  They don't understand
... they don't really understand that _you_ were my life.]

Far off, there was birdsong.  He listened for a few minutes, still
smiling.

[How can they understand why I don't cry?  To them, you're gone, and
they grieve.  But me ... I see you everywhere.  I feel your presence. I
hear your voice in the wind.  I hear you whisper to me at night, and
sometimes I can even feel you lying next to me.  So how can I grieve?
How can I cry?

[Sixty-six years together.  It's too short a time.  You'll be with me
forever.]

He sat for a long time, speaking to her.  His voice held no sadness, no
grief.  His smile never faded.  But at some point, he became aware that
his face was wet with tears.

The afternoon wore on, and the light began to fade at last.  Ranma
remained seated at the grave.  He felt no urge to move.  Where did he
have to go that was more important than staying with his wife?

Sooner or later, he realised, someone would come and make him leave. The
children, if nobody else.  They wouldn't let an old man sit in the
cemetery all night -- not, he thought sternly, that eighty-five was
_old_.

But all these thought were distant.  In the background.  Unimportant. He
was together with his wife, and that drowned out the rest.

[Oh, Akane ... why did you have to go first?  Women are supposed to live
longer than men ...]

He did not realise how firmly he had shut out the rest of the world,
until the hand on his shoulder startled him back to awareness.  Nobody
should have been able to get so close to him.  He had let his guard
down.  He felt a distant irritation.

He looked up.  To his surprise, it was not Seiji or Hisao, or any of the
grandchildren.  It was ... who?  Someone he didn't recognise, their face
invisible in the gathering darkness.

"Come on, Ranma-san," the someone said softly.  "You don't know it yet,
but it's bad for you to be here."

A woman, and one who apparently knew him.  Who?

"This is where I need to be," he said softly.

"No.  You're not the suicidal type, Ranma-san.  But you're trying to die
right now, whether you know it or not.  You need to come away."

"I'm not --"  Ranma broke off.  He thought about it for a few minutes.
The woman waited patiently.  "Is that what I'm doing?" he said at last.

"I'm afraid so," the woman said, nodding.  For a moment, her face caught
the light.  She was quite young; in her twenties at the most.  Not ...
who he had been beginning to think it was.

Ranma thought for a few minutes more.  At last he nodded.  "All right,"
he said.  Then, after a brief hesitation: "Who are you?"

The woman caught her breath.  "It's been ... a year or two since we saw
each other last," she said, in a voice that was not quite calm.  "You
may not remember.  Call me -- call me Pandora."

"Pa--?"  For a moment Ranma wrestled with the pronunciation.  "Odd
name," he said at last.  "Some ancient Greek legend, right?  Why not
just tell me your real name?"

Her laugh sounded nervous to Ranma.  "In good time," she said.  "Come
on, now.  It's getting cool."

Ranma got to his feet, ignoring her proffered hand.  His muscles had
stiffened badly in the hours he'd been sitting, but he was damned if he
was going to show any weakness to a stranger.  Even if she did seem to
know him.

"My flitter is out by the gate," the woman said.  If she was annoyed at
his refusal, she gave no sign of it.

They walked slowly toward the cemetery gate.  After a little Ranma said,
"You weren't at the funeral."

"No.  I've been away ... I didn't hear that Akane-san had died until
this morning.  I came as fast as I could."

Ranma shot her a glance.  "Sounds like you knew I'd be --"  He broke off
suddenly, embarrassed.

The woman laughed softly.  "Not exactly.  But I knew --"  Now it was her
turn to be embarrassed.  "I knew how much you loved her," she finished.
"I was pretty sure you'd be doing something stupid."

She was watching him out of the corner of her eye, he saw, as if she
expected a reaction to that.  Once, she'd have gotten one.  But half a
century of marriage to Akane had taught him to think before he opened
his mouth.

"Perhaps you're right," he said calmly.  They reached the gate.  "Which
one's yours?" he added, indicating the flitters parked there.

"The dark blue."  It was an older model, but in excellent condition. The
woman palmed the lock, and the driver's door hissed open.  She slid in.
Ranma watched her through the window as she cleared the vehicle's
security systems.  Her face was lit up by the glow of the instruments.
It did seem familiar, somehow.

The passenger door opened and Ranma climbed in.  Pandora already had the
engine running.  To his dismay, he saw that she meant to drive the
flitter herself.

"Doesn't the autopilot work?" he asked.

"I never liked those things."  She shot Ranma an amused glance.  "Don't
worry.  I've never had a crash yet."  As she spoke the flitter began to
move -- smoothly, he was relieved to find.  They climbed to a hundred
and fifty metres and headed south-east.

"Wait a moment," he said sharply.  "This isn't the way home.  Where are
you taking me?"

"Relax," she suggested.  "I'm taking you home -- to _my_ home.  Just for
a night or two.  You need to have a little time away from your family,
somewhere where you won't be constantly reminded of ... her.  Somewhere
different, where you can rest, and start to get a little perspective on
things."

"And do _I_ get a say in any of this?" he inquired, half-way between
amusement and indignation.

She smiled mirthlessly.  "Of course.  If you really want to go back to
your dojo, I'll take you now.  Just think about it for a moment, though.
Is that really where you want to be now?"  He started to answer but she
interrupted him, adding, "I know you don't have any particular reason to
trust me.  But ... trust me anyway.  You won't regret it."

"I'll go with you," he said at once.

She looked at him without speaking, and for a moment he thought he saw
the sparkle of tears in her eyes.  But it might have only been his
imagination.

The flitter drove on through the night.

                **********

Ranma woke up with a start as the flitter dropped down toward a landing
pad.  The low, steady hum of the vehicle's cooling system, keeping the
engine at operating temperature, had sent him off to sleep.  He frowned,
annoyed.

"Where are we?" he asked.

"That would be telling," Pandora said, grinning.  "About three hours'
drive from the cemetery, that's all I'm saying."

"Three _hours_?"  That could put them anywhere between Darwin and the
North Pole.  He glanced out the window.  All right; not the Pole, then.
"I ought to call the children, at least.  Let them know I'm all right."

"Already done."  The flitter touched down with barely a jar.  "I spoke
to them an hour ago.  They were ... a little puzzled, but I managed to
explain things."

"Hmm."  Ranma would have given a good deal to have heard that
explanation.

"Come on inside.  Would you like something to drink?  I'll get the guest
bedroom made up ..."  The woman climbed out of the flitter and started
toward the building nearby.  Ranma clambered out and hurried after her.
Guide-lights followed them as they went.

The rest was a blur.  She gave him something to drink -- hot and spicy;
he did not recognise the flavour but liked it -- and put him to bed
briskly.  As the lights went out he thought he heard her say "Sleep
well," but his eyes closed before he was really sure.

- End of Part 1 -

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Angus MacSpon                                                Allen Gainsford
http://shell.ihug.co.nz/~macspon            http://shell.ihug.co.nz/~macspon