Subject: [FFML] [Ranma 2096] Tapestry Torn: Mousse's Story (Not by me)
From: Chris Willmore <4cw6@qlink.queensu.ca>
Date: 3/16/1998, 5:10 PM
To: ffml@fanfic.com

There's been many requests for a Mousse story, but since he's not one of
my favourite characters, it was left unwritten.  'K'thardin' was kind enough
to fill the gap with what follows.

Many thanks to Lara Bartram and Jeff Hosmer for their help in editing
the 'fic.

As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated, and will be taken into 
account in the final draft of the tale.

-CW

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Created by Christopher Willmore.            /  \ \  /
           4cw6@qlink.queensu.ca           /   /  \/
Based on a story by Rumiko Takahashi and      /
Developed by C. Michael Schumacher           /   /
[Kensu: cschumac@waun.tdsnet.com]            \  /
R2096 pages: http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/   \/(Logo:Armakuni)

==========================================================================
                               TAPESTRY TORN
                               Mousse's Story
==========================================================================
                               by "K'thardin"
              Edited by L. Bartram, C. Willmore and J. Hosmer
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R2096 characters and situations used with permission - Takahashi's aren't.
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    After finishing a morning shower, the man paused to look in the mirror. 
The person staring back at him appeared in his mid-eighties, on the taller 
side of medium and well-muscled, and sported long hair and a thick beard
which were both completely gray.  The reflection also had an unusual gaze -
its eyes seemed to be filled with- <Sadness?  Regret?  Not that you don't
have much to be regretful for, Mousse,> he thought sarcastically.  <I'm not
getting any younger, either.>
    Quite the understatement.  Time would always take its toll, and the 
little aging he thought he'd cheated the clock out of had been repaid.  With
interest.  He was a lot slower now than five years ago, and getting slower
all the time.  His strength was also beginning to dwindle along with his 
speed.  He knew it was unlikely he would make it to ninety years of age.
    Mousse shook his head and sighed.
    <Death gets us all, eventually.>

    After a few moments of absent-minded adjustment of his robe and
daydreams of the past, Mousse found himself at a desk, looking at an opened
journal.  It was old, but unused.  For quite some time now he'd been
debating with himself whether it was worth his while to fill its pages...

    Strong arms reached around from behind and hugged him tightly.  He
smiled; she always made him smile.

    "Good morning."  His wife's voice was soft and somehow musical, like 
wind chimes.

    He turned and looked up at her smiling face.  It was a running joke
between the two that what the years took from him, they gave to her.
Anti-Bacterial-Liquid-Hand-Soap looked only about thirty-five, with her
green hair completely free of gray.  Only her eyes betrayed her true age,
which was about sixty-eight.  Among the Amazons, age made women wise, and it
was that depth of thought and feeling brought about by experience at living
that filled her gaze, not the frivolity of youth.  He reached up and grabbed
onto her hands while she bent down to kiss him.

    Her eyes locked onto the blank paper on the desk, and she broke off.

    "Write it, already!"  The firm tone of her voice caused him to look up
at her for a moment in surprise.  Normally, she never raised her voice at
him for anything.

    He sighed and turned back to contemplating the journal in front of
him.

    "If you feel it must be done, then do it."  A far gentler tone this
time.
    
    "I keep thinking that Shampoo will succeed soon, that I will be
there to help him if..."  <When,> he mentally corrected himself.  "She
succeeds."

    She said nothing and just continued to hold him.  She knew as well as
he did that it was unlikely.  <Dammit!  Well, if I can't be there, at least
I can help him by telling him what happened.  It is unlikely Shampoo will.>
He frowned at the thought.  She hated her Great-Grandmother, and yet she'd
almost turned into a double of Cologne.  He wished it were not so.  <Like a
lot of my life,> he thought wryly.

    Anti-Bacterial-Liquid-Hand-Soap hugged her husband tightly, then
disengaged herself and left their room, giving him the privacy she knew he
would need.

    Mousse sat still for a moment.  He gathered his thoughts, drew in his
breath, then finally picked up the pen and began to write.

                                * * * * *

    Let me explain something before I commit this story to paper.  I was
not there when it happened, but to this day, I wish to whatever gods or god
or whatever is up there I had been.  Who knows?  Maybe my presence could
have done something about it, given you a chance to defend yourself.
Something.  Probably not.  In any case that is now a moot point.  

    You were killed.  My friend, my rival, my enemy was dead, and nothing I 
could do, or can do, will change that fact.  Nor will it change what
happened after that.  You were truly the center of everything we did, all of
us those of us who loved you and those of us who fought you.

    Shampoo once told me that with her witch's sight she could see the 
tapestry still there, waiting for you.  Personally, I always thought you 
didn't need a witch's sight.  All you have to do is look around.  I think 
perhaps if you had lived, things might have turned out differently for all 
those involved, but like I said before there is not a damn thing I can do 
about it now.  Except tell what I know about it all.  

    That is the last duty I have as I near the end of my life; I owe you 
that at least.  I can only hope one day that it will be of some help to you 
when the time comes to restore the tapestry.  I suppose that is why Shampoo, 
the woman I love and always will, does what she does.  I hope she succeeds, 
but I'll be long gone before that becomes an issue.

    I remember the day clearly.  Kasumi came in the restaurant.  She
looked hollow, drained of life, almost as if she were the one death had
taken, and not you.

                                * * * * *

    Mousse paused for a moment as the memory overtook him.

    She walked up slowly and took Shampoo by the shoulders and said
quietly, "Ranma is dead.  H-he's dead Shampoo."

    He felt tears come to him unbidden.  <Damn.  After all this time, it
still hurts,> he thought.  He willed his eyes back into dryness and turned
his attention back to his writing.

                                * * * * *

    I watched as tears streamed down Kasumi's face when she said that you
had been killed.  I watched as the plate Shampoo held slid out of her hands
and crashed to the floor, destroying the dish while scattering the food over
the floor.  She bent down to clean up the mess, not seeming to understand
what was just said to her.  Kasumi slapped Shampoo.

    For my part, I could not believe what I had just heard.  Could not
think, could not speak, could not even breathe.  Ranma dead?!  Just like
that?!  Yes, just like that.  And then Kasumi, kind and loving Kasumi, had
slapped someone?! It was beyond belief.

    I then heard a voice from the corner of the room. "Oh well, there are
always other potential son-in-laws."  It had come from that old Bitch.  The
one who had taken my Shampoo away from me, had been molding her in her own
image; that of a soulless and unfeeling ghoul.

    I hated her for that, and I am sure you saw what she was doing to
Shampoo as well as I.

    She beat the Hell out of me on a regular basis too (you saw that a
lot), but it was only because I would not leave Shampoo.  A lot of good
that did her.

    But did you know what the old Ghoul did to me when I was younger?
Shampoo and I were just little kids and exchanged an innocent kiss.  That
old Bitch saw it and broke my head open with her staff, nearly killing
me.  My eyesight went bad after that.  She had taken my sight from me.  For
nothing more than kissing Shampoo when we were little kids.

    But you know something else?  I did not hate her for that.  I hated her
for what it did to Shampoo.  She was my friend and more at the time, and I
watched as she steeled her soul against me, trying to push me away so I
would not get hurt.

    I stayed with her whether she wanted it or not.

    There were other times.  I would help Shampoo with some task or test
that Cologne would set for her (whether she wanted it or not), or I would
try to curb her insane methods of training Shampoo.  Believe me, you don't
want to know some of the things she put Shampoo through.  Every time I
interfered, I paid a painful price, and as I was male, it was hardly frowned
upon.  Still I managed to curb some of it, as she had to take some time out 
for me, leaving less for Shampoo.  I paid for that too.

    I hated Cologne for all these things, but those words she spoke I knew
had hurt Shampoo worse than all the pain she had ever inflicted on me at
once.

    I hated her more in that instant than I had in my whole life.  My
weapons were retrieved from their hiding places, and though it would have
probably cost me my life, I was going to deal with her once and for all.

    I was not fast enough.  Shampoo had already beat me to it.  I watched
as her hands moved faster than I had ever seen them to reach out and grab
the old Bitch's eyes.  I moved then too.  I ran to Kasumi and pulled her out
of the Nekohanten before she saw anymore.

    I told her to go home and that I would take of everything here.

    She didn't even seem disgusted at what she had seen.  Almost
satisfied.  Gentle-hearted Kasumi, satisfied at such a scene of violence?!
It made no sense at the time.  In any case I had more to deal with at the 
time.  She nodded, turned and left.

    I came in just in time to see Shampoo finish devouring what was left
of Cologne's eyes then collapse on the floor holding herself.

    Oh yes, she did that, Ranma.

    I remember the revulsion I felt.  I felt my gorge rise then, but I
knew a lot of things had to be done and that now was no time for having any
reactions like that.  So I used a mental technique that my old master had
taught me.  It allowed me to wall my feelings away, so I could do what
needed done.

    I don't know why I did it.  To this day I do not know.  I tore off a
piece of cloth from my robe and walked over to the screaming form of
Cologne clutching at the empty sockets where her eyes used to be.  I
bandaged her eyes, stanching the flow of blood.  It was more mercy than she
had ever shown anyone in her life.

    I then took Shampoo's comatose form up to the bathroom.  I ran bath
water and undressed her; she did not resist.  In retrospect, that was the
first time I had ever seen her nude.  She continued not to resist as I
cleaned the food and blood off her body.  I dried her, dressed her, and led
her to her room where I put her down on her bed.  I had learned a few
things living here, and using a certain pressure point to put her to sleep
was no problem.

    Throughout this I had been dispassionate, due to what I had done to
myself.  My master had told me, however, that walling away your feelings
forever would eventually destroy you; no matter how much it hurt, you must
experience your grief.  Only then could one continue on.  I then walked out
of the restaurant to the empty lot behind it and let the wall around my
emotions collapse.  It all came at me at one time and I screamed the scream
of one who is going through the ultimate torture.  

    The fence surrounding the empty lot was a convenient target to vent all 
the anger, grief, despair, and revulsion I felt.  It did not last long.  I 
still needed to destroy something.  There was an old statue back there too.
I proceeded to hit with my fists.  It finally broke in half after repeated 
blows.

    That shocked me back to myself and I was aware of my surroundings again 
and of the pain of my bloodied knuckles.  I returned to the Nekohanten to 
bandage my wounds.  The old Ghoul (a very apt description) was nowhere in 
sight; I don't know if that was a good thing or not.

    I am sorry to say that that display of grief was not for you.  It was
for what your death had done to Shampoo and the knowledge I could do
nothing about it.  That was what really hurt, and at the time you know I
wanted you dead anyway.  I did grieve for you, only much later.

                                * * * * *

    A tear fell on the page that Mousse was currently writing on.  He
brushed it away and continued to write.

                                * * * * *

    The funeral was a few days later.  Everyone was there except one, who
was very conspicuous by her absence; oh, and Ryouga (lost again).  I
suppose Akane had her own demons to deal with.  As for Shampoo, she clung
to me throughout the funeral, almost not knowing where she was.  It would
be a long time before she recovered I knew.  I had changed her into her cat
form, as the police had been searching for her, for obvious reasons (I
know what few customers we had at the time must have told the authorities
what they had witnessed).  

    The old Ghoul was there too.  She was wearing sunglasses; the damage to 
her eye sockets had been healed by some of the magic she possessed.  It
could not replace her eyes, though, and that gave me some small
satisfaction.

    It was here that I grieved for you.  I realized that had things been
different, had a lot of things been different, you would have been a
friend.  A good friend.  I cried then, for you, and wished that I could have
known you as a friend instead of the enemy you were before.  I blame myself
for that for, at the time, I could not allow myself to forgive you the
circumstances of your "engagement" to Shampoo.  I was a fool, and I can
only ask you to forgive me for this.  I know I will never be able to
forgive myself.

    After the funeral, Kasumi asked if Shampoo and I would come to the
Tendo residence.  Something about a matter that needed to be discussed.

    I went. Shampoo had fallen asleep just before we got there so we had
put her in the guest room.

    Kasumi got right to the point.

                                * * * * *

    Mousse snapped the pen in anger when he remembered this.

         "You know it was Happosai that called forth that spirit?"
    It wasn't really a question, more of a statement.

         "Yes."  Nabiki had called the day after Kasumi had come, and had 
    given him the details

         "Can you tell me who gave him this?"  She handed him a
    scroll.

    Mousse opened a drawer, retrieved another pen, and continued to write.

                                * * * * *

    She showed me a scroll written in simple Kanji.  Really large, too.  
Also in a very distinct handwriting style.  One I had seen many a time.  I 
hadn't noticed I had crushed it in my grip.  That seemed all the
confirmation Kasumi needed.

    That Old Bitch had done more than I thought she had.  She had
destroyed a major portion of all our lives.  Worse, she had taken away
Shampoo's sanity.  And all for her damned plans for you and Shampoo.  And
now those plans would never come to fruition and worse.  The way you were
killed would ensure that Shampoo would never be happy with any other man.
She had finally made sure that I would never get Shampoo.  She had won.
Against me at least.

    I felt my rage build, but underneath I heard a small voice.  It was to
this voice I listened.  It counseled that there would be another time and
place to exact revenge.  Now I must take Shampoo away from all this.  No
matter what happens SHE is your primary concern.

    I asked if Shampoo could stay there for awhile so I could pack her and
my things.

    It was a couple of days later that I heard that Happosai had been
murdered and Akane had disappeared.  Happosai could rot in all the Hells
for all I cared, but I like many others went out looking for she that had
disappeared.

    I don't know if it was luck or fate, but I found Akane.  The funeral was 
a couple of days later.  My soul was ashes.

    I'm so sorry, Ranma! I wish I could have done something.

    I kind of wish Ryouga had been around.  You know he loved her and
might have been able to prevent this.  As it was, it was not going to be
very pretty when he finally returned.  Like I said before, not a damn thing
that can be done about that now, especially now.

    I left Japan, smuggling Shampoo out with me in her feline form.  The
Tendos had given me Happosai's possessions, knowing quite a number were of
the dangerous mystical kind.  I think they were hoping I would give them to
the Amazon elders so they would be safe.  I couldn't trust them with such
items so I kept them.

    We returned to Niichezu, Shampoo's home village.  To this day, I don't
really think of it as my home.  Some place like that where the rulers are
just like the old Ghoul could never be called a home of mine.  There she
told them what had happened.  What she had done, and that she wasn't even
close to being sorry.  For her crime she was cast out of the society she
had always known.  

    I knew this to be an injustice of the grossest sort.  So after I had 
seen to Shampoo, I pleaded my case before the Elders of the Amazons.  They 
listened and decided to disown her family as well.  Other than kill everyone 
there for their mistreatment of she who I loved, I could do no more.  I am 
glad they've practically disappeared.

    So she went to Jusenkyo.  I had really no choice but to follow.  It
was obvious why she had gone; after all I knew the legends as well as she
did.

    I was there as she tried with the first small animal that she found.
The body was yours but it still had the soul of whatever animal she had
used.  I watched as she went insane again and broke it's neck.  Disposing
of the body was easy.  I knew a little magic myself and I knew how to make
a substance that would burn something completely to ashes.

    She was mad for a good ten years.  During that time I took care of
her.  Bathed her.  Fed her.  Combed her hair.  I talked to her all the
time.  Usually I read to her from books that I obtained at the village.  I
stopped her from going to that spring when I could.  But I could not watch
her all the time, and she slipped by me occasionally, usually when I went
to the village to get supplies.

    One hundred twenty three times she got past me.  Believe me, you don't
forget things like that.  After a while, technology improved to the point
where force fields were possible.  I acquired a prototype from Nabiki and 
placed it on the spring.  Shampoo killed more animals, but I knew now that 
would be all she would be able to do.

    While at the village trading post I met a young woman.  She became my
confidant and friend, my only friend while I was there.  Her name was Anti-
Bacteria-Liquid-Hand-Soap.  To this day I wonder where the older
generation got these names.

    She once asked me why I take care of Shampoo.  Later she found out the
reason why I would not leave her when she became aware of the curse and
blessing of love that had struck her.  I'll explain later.

    At the end of the ten years I remember watching Shampoo's slow
deterioration and wondering, 'Is there anything I can really do?  There must
be something.  Damn,' I'd told myself, 'If only that old Ghoul had not given
Happosai that damned scroll!'

    I had not realized I had said it out loud until Shampoo grabbed me.  For
the first time in a long time I did not see madness in her eyes as she
asked, "What the Hell do you mean?"

    I could not deny her this answer, so I told her, even showed her the
scroll that was used.  I also gave her a scroll her Great-grandmother had
written her before she left.  She did not like what was on it, but it gave
her a new focus and purpose.  I have to admit, I did not like what I read on
it either.

    It basically said that because of what Shampoo was going to do that
she had doomed the Joketsukozu, the Tendos, the Saotomes, and all of
Japan.  I knew that was wrong.  It was what that old Ghoul had done to you
that would cause all of these awful happenings to come to pass.  What it did
for Shampoo, though, was give her a new strength and purpose.

    She demanded I retrain her, help her strengthen her body, help her
recover her fighting skills.

    I think that was the best time I had ever had with her.

    After about a year she had judged herself strong enough, and she went
to see the Witch of Jusenkyo, despite my vehement protests.  I have no idea
what she said to the Witch, but the Witch agreed to train Shampoo in the
arts of magic.

    She returned later that day and seemed very different for some
reason, but I did not question it.  She was no longer insane, and that was
good enough for me.  

    The next night, however, she came on to me, saying that when I accepted 
I would have to leave.  Leave her?!  I had never left her, and what she had 
just demanded of me hurt.  It hurt in a way that was impossible to describe.  
I declined, of course.  Despite the pain, I had to make sure she would be
all right.  She did the same the next night.  And the next.  And the next.
For fifteen nights she did this.  The combination of hurt and fierce desire
was torture more painful than any I had experienced before.

    The fifteenth night, I could no longer help myself.

                                * * * * *

         She was nearly nude, and just looked at him.  His hands reached
    out of their own volition and slowly brought her to himself.  Her
    head bent down and her lips met his.  They stayed that way for a time.

         Finally, he broke away and parted her nightgown, feeling her
    smooth skin under his fingertips.  By this time she had removed
    the shirt he was wearing, and was beginning to start on his
    pants.  He pulled back and admired her form.

         <She's a goddess given form,> he thought; her face, her hair,
    her limbs, her breasts...  He watched as her legs spread out before
    him and she moaned in anticipation as he continued to run his
    hands all over her body.  Finally they could hold no longer.

    Mousse shuddered and tried to block out the memory as he continued to
write.

                                * * * * *

    It was wonderful.

    I hated myself.

    At the end, I collapsed in her arms, my head on her breasts, and wished
that tomorrow would never come.  Like I said before there is not a damn
thing that could be done about it.  The Americans have a saying for
circumstances like this: "Ain't life a Bitch?"

    They have no idea how right they are.

    I left the next morning and began wandering the world like Ryouga
(well maybe not like him; I don't think anyone could wander like our old
friend).  I remember waking up and seeing her face, trying burn the
image in my head.  When I left, I left all of Happosai's belongings, knowing
she would probably need a few of them.  

    I also left my glasses.  A few years before I had gone completely blind, 
but I no longer needed them.  My old master had taught me a technique that 
used my ki as a set of eyes.  I saw much better with it anyway.

    As I walked away I realized she had just screwed me in more ways than
one.  Because of what she had done, I no longer loved her - I couldn't!  I
needed to just get away, get my center back.  Too much had been taken; I
really didn't have anything anymore.  Then I realized that only the things
of my old life were gone.  Considering what it consisted of, I found I did
not miss it.  It was time to begin a new life, and though I did not know it
at the time, a part of that new life had already begun even before the old
one had ended.

    I wandered through China, Mongolia, Thailand, Japan, probably a few
other countries in that area too as I was not really paying any attention to
where I was.  I learned all sorts of techniques in my travels, met a lot of
people, made a few friends, and one or two enemies.

    I found out during my travels that Ukyou and Ryouga were married and 
even had a child.  Only problem was she had never really gotten over your 
death and it drove her insane.  From what I understand she actually pulled
off an ultimate shi shi houkodan that destroyed a good portion of Nerima.
She gave herself up afterwards and was institutionalized.  I wish I could
have done something about that too.  I know Ryouga could never forgive
himself either.

    I even ran into Toma and Kirin a couple of times.  Seems Toma had
finally found himself a bride; a young woman who went by the name of Tendo
Kurumi (I am sure you recognize who that is), and they were out sight-
seeing in Japan.  It amused me to no end that he actually got one of the
Tendos for his wife (well sort of a Tendo).  Anyway, I tried to steer away
from them, but they saw me and cornered me near a coffee shop.  I really
did not want to spoil what appeared to be a honeymoon, but during the
conversation they asked how you and Akane were.  They were understandably
saddened when I told them and, after we parted, went directly to Nerima to
pay their respects.

    They're dead now.  They were killed when the Musk Dynasty, longtime 
enemies of the Joketsuzoku, attacked their floating island.  As I write
this, you are long since dead, as I will likely be when finally you read my
tale.  Nonetheless, take this advice from a man who will die to one he
thinks will not want to pass twice through the underworld - stay out of
Togenkyo.  The leader of the Musk is a crazed half-man, half-woman, and
knowing it was your own moukou takabisha that dried up the spring he pledged
his hopes of normality upon will not help your credit any in his (her?)
court.

    As for Kirin, I wandered through his mountain kingdom a few times
during my travels.  Somehow he had already found out about what happened
to you, and it was good to talk to him about it.  He's been a good friend to
me.  Though I haven't seen him in a decade and a half, I can only hope he is
doing all right too, as I seriously doubt I would survive the journey there
to find out.

    Still, during my travels I was looking for something; even I did not
know what at the time.  Fortunately, someone else did.  Hell, she was the
first one of us to realize it.  Anyway, she had been tracking me for
some time and had finally pinned me down outside of a small village in
Thailand.  She came up on my campsite during the night, where I had been
trying for a few days to master kachuu tenshin amagurikan (Oh, incidentally
I finally did master said technique while I was there).

                                * * * * *

    Mousse smiled, remembering the exchange he had between himself and a
certain green-haired amazon.

         "There you are!  Do you know how hard I have been looking
    for you!?"

         Mousse turned from his contemplation of the chestnuts in
    the fire.  He recognized the language that was shouted at him, and
    knew the owner of that melodic voice that he'd always liked to
    listen to instantly.

         "Anti, this is a surprise!  What are you doing here?"  She
    looked at him like he had just asked the dumbest question in the
    world.

         "Trying to find you!  You disappeared without a word to
    anyone!  Do you know how worried I was for you?"

         He looked at her for a moment then bowed his head, unable
    to bear the look of anguish in her eyes.  <She was my only friend
    back... there.  She deserved better than that.>  He raised his head
    and started to make an apology before he was interrupted by her
    headlong rush into his arms.

         "Dammit!  Don't say anything!"  She looked up at him and
    continued more softly, "You just scared me, but I understand.  I
    know why you left."

         He almost started to ask how she could know before she
    forestalled him by placing her fingers on his lips.

    "Don't. Believe me, you wouldn't want to know how anyway."

         It was then that he noticed a small scar across her
    cheekbone that wasn't there before, and now marred her otherwise
    perfect face.  It was very faint, you would have to be in the
    right light to see it, but he didn't see using light, and saw it
    very well.  What did she do?  What?

         He tried to give voice to the question, only to be stopped
    yet again.

         "Please, just don't ask."  She was actually pleading,
    "Please."  He looked into her eyes and found he could not deny
    her.  He was fairly certain how she knew what happened, but
    because it was she that had asked, he would never attempt to find
    out.  It was the closest he had come to actually hating Shampoo.

         "Now will you let me finish?" she asked; wisely he stayed
    silent.  "It pains me to see you like this, just wandering around
    without reason.  Looking for something and you don't know what.
    If you keep this up you'll wind up like the old martial arts
    mistress Cologne.  She gave up everything, even love, and she
    just became a soulless and unfeeling monster.  Shampoo is well on
    her way to becoming the same thing.  I don't want to see it
    happen to you too.  Please find your heart.  Don't become like
    them.  Don't waste your life like that."  She grasped him tightly
    and buried her face in his chest.  "I couldn't bear it," she said
    softly.

         Suddenly Mousse realized what had been growing between them
    for some time, and he knew exactly what needed to be done then.
    Drawing her close to him he spoke, the words being the wisest he
    had ever uttered.

         "I have already found my heart."  His tone made it absolutely
    clear what he meant.

    Mousse looked again and saw he had just written exactly word for 
word what Anti-Bacterial-Liquid-Hand-Soap had told him.  <You made sure 
I never forgot.  You have always loved me and made sure I knew it.  I 
wish I did not have to leave you alone.>

                                * * * * *

    Those words were some of the wisest I had ever heard.  She had always
been there for me as I took care of Shampoo, and now she had come to give
me exactly what I needed then.  What I know we both needed.

    She looked up at me and smiled in that most beautiful way and then she
did something strange.  Sometimes I wish I knew what prompted her to do what
she did right then, but you know what?  I don't really care.  She reached up
and touched my face tenderly with her right hand.  She threw a punch with
her left.  I did not even think, I just caught it, and she smiled again.
It took me a moment to realize what she had just done.  And without saying
it she had just shown me exactly how she felt:

    She loved me.

    I looked down into her glorious eyes and found that this woman, she
who had been my confidant and my best friend for over ten years, that I was
totally, hopelessly, unconditionally in love with her.

    I loved her.

    I gathered her into my arms and just held her close.  I laughed and I
cried and smiled and cried again.  She held me as all those feelings
worked their way out of me.  It took a long time.  Here was a woman that
loved me, that would never hurt me (Hell, she doesn't really even raise her
voice), that would always be there for me.  

    Contrary to Shampoo and Cologne that had been nothing but sorrow, she 
would be nothing but joy (and so she has).  Soon, all that ran its course to 
be replaced by a warm feeling that has never left, and as tears streamed
down my cheeks, I thanked whatever gods there were in heaven that had
decided to give me some small measure of happiness.

    She took me back to the village where we were married.  We lived on
the outskirts of the village and were very happy there for many years.  I
found out something here.  Home truly is where the heart is.  Anti was my
heart and wherever she was so was my home.

    Here is something else I try not to dwell on too much.  We had many
kids, she and I, and we took them to visit Shampoo often.  After all someone
had to keep an eye on her. I went alone a few times, however.  It was one of
those times I found someone else there besides the Witch and Shampoo.

    I remember cresting a hill, coming to Jusenkyo a different way for
some reason.  I saw a little girl there, about nine years of age picking
flowers.  I wondered why would there be a little girl there.  I walked up
to her and what I saw then was burned into my mind.  This girl was very
familiar, only a blind person could not see what was familiar about her,
and I was not that blind.

                                * * * * *

         "Hi," Mousse said.

         She looked up and smiled, "Hi!"

         "What are you doing?" he asked.
         "Picking flowers," she replied in such a sweet voice.
         "Oh," he said.  "Is your mother in?"
         "Yes!  She's in the cabin over there."  She pointed.  "Would
    you like me to show you?"
         <Such innocence,> he thought.  "No, I can find my own way."
         "O.K."  She extended her hand.  "My name is Akane.  What's
    yours?"
         Akane.  How fitting.  He smiled and took her hand.  "Mousse."
         Mousse let go and turned to leave.  He walked a little way
    and turned his head to give the illusion he was looking at a
    certain spot.
         "You can show yourself now.  I know you are there," he said
    to what appeared to be empty air.
         Mousse watched as the Witch of Jusenkyo materialized in
    front of him.
         "And so now you know.  What are you going to do about it?"
    she asked.
         Mousse thought about it for a moment.  "Nothing.  If she
    does not want me to know about her, I will not go against her
    wishes."  At this, it seemed she almost relaxed.  "I would
    appreciate it if you made sure Akane does not tell her mother she
    met me."
         "She won't," she said simply.

                                * * * * *

    It was quite obvious she was my daughter, but I decided not to
confront Shampoo about it.  I really did not want to force any issues
like that, not with her being so young in any case.  Perhaps when she was
older.  Probably not.  Some things are probably best left untold.

    I turned and set off towards the cabin.  That was the first and last
time I saw my daughter alive.

    About the time she would have been seventeen, I found out from the
Witch she had drowned in one of the many springs of Jusenkyo.  I destroyed
a lot of territory that day.

                                * * * * *

    Mousse broke another pen.  He simply reached in his desk drawer and
withdrew another one.

                                * * * * *

    We moved back to Japan after a few years and started up the Nekohanten
(Shampoo had sort of given it to me, although she still legally owned it)
again which had been closed for quite some time.  Cologne had been gone
from it for a while. I suppose she had finally gone off and died somewhere.
I cannot forgive her for what she has done, but for some reason I hope she
found some redemption.  Although with all she has done in her life, I
shudder to think what, if anything, could have been so great as to
redeem her.

    I really did not wish to go back, but there was really no choice
seeing as how most of the village had already left for the cities.  It's
what happens when you cannot adapt to changing times.  The first part of
the old Ghoul's prophecy had come to pass.

    Tofu's clinic was destroyed in a very strange explosion some time
later.  Kasumi was mortally wounded in the blast.  It was said Ryouga was
to blame.

    I visited him in prison.  I knew it was not he who did it.  He was
released a couple of weeks later when a similar blast destroyed another
building in Japan.  That building was the Tendo dojo, and it took a
victim as well: Nabiki.  I wonder about that sometimes, but there is nothing
I could do about that either.  The second part of that prophecy had come to
pass.

    Ukyou was killed in the insane asylum a few years later.

    Yes, I say killed.  Ryouga told me the story later as he came from
burying her on a hillside overlooking the ocean.  I am sure there is more
to it than even he knows, but that is not what matters.  Another of my
friends was dead and I couldn't do a thing about it.

    I went alone and visited the site.  I found a lonely grave with a
simple inscription on the marker.  Sumimasen.  It fit.

                                * * * * *

    <Why didn't you let me help you, Ryouga, my friend?> he asked as he
continued to write, occasionally wiping away tears.

                                * * * * *

    He died a few years ago.  I don't like to think about it much.

    Shampoo continued her research to try and bring your soul back from
the spring it was imprisoned in.  I, for my part, continued to live happily
with my family.  Still, even I can feel something is wrong.

    The tapestry of our lives was torn apart when its center, you, was
taken from us.  That tapestry remains, though so many are dead and gone,
others changed beyond belief.  As I said before, it still waits for you to
return to set right what has gone wrong.

    When you were killed, all the supporting pieces of the tapestry were
heavily damaged in some way.  We needed you.  The problem is that when
Shampoo does succeed, as there is no doubt she will one day, very few of us
will be around to support you as you do what you must.  Because just as we
needed you, you needed us.  Without the supporting pieces of the tapestry,
you will fail.  I only hope that whatever gods are in heaven will provide
you with others to help you so that you do not.

    I wish I could be there.  The story of my life.  To always never be
where I would most wish to be.  Some would argue to be where I was most
needed to be, which just happens to be in other places when all my friends
were either being killed or whatever else happened to them.

    Forgive me, Ranma, for I will be long gone when you finally appear
again.

    I will not be able to help you then, but if you find yourself reading
this one day, take heart and remember this: the world needs you to be
strong.  And try to find some happiness.  Don't become a soulless void like
a lot of people were after you died.  Take care my friend; I hope to see you
in the next world.  We'll all be waiting for you there.

                                * * * * *

    Mousse put the pen down and closed the book.  <Gods, that hurt to do,>
he thought.  He moved his chair and stood up. His wife heard him stir, and
knowing that what he had just written down was very painful for him, opened
the door and came into their room.  

    <Deity,> she thought as she looked at his face.  It was contorted from 
grief, his eyes were red-rimmed, and his hands looked as if they were
covered in ink.  She almost flew over to him to hold him, comfort him.  She
held him as he clutched her tightly and softly cried.

                                 * * * * *
                                 
               Thirty years later, the letter was delivered.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------
    

               'I know someday you'll have a beautiful life
         I know someday you'll be the sun in somebody else's sky
            But why?  Why? Why can't it be-can't it be mine?'
            
            
                                 "Black"
                         written by Eddie Vedder
                         
============================================================================
                            END TAPESTRY TORN
============================================================================


_________________________________________________________________
Christopher Willmore      http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/2096a.htm
Joel Mokyr's description of a successful inventor:
               "A crackpot hit the jackpot."
      http://www.geocities.com/Paris/Bistro/2653/index.htm