Hard to Say Goodbye
-----------------------------
*Ranma 1/2 characters are copywrited to the ingenius of Rumiko Takahashi
and co. I own nothing on these characters or their "unusual" situations.*
~Be warned, this will be a sadfic but as for a bitter ending...? I don't
know... ^_~
~I'm taking this from the manga, so no Sasuke in this one.~
Chapter 4: Breathe, Please Breathe.
The dawn slowly rose through the dusk of the night, waking the land
with light. The winter clouds, having choked the night sky, dissipated
away. But their threat remained. Today was going to be a clear day but
still the frost remained, ever so slowly melting under the sun.
"What a beauteous view I have gazed upon." Kuno turned away from the
window; he was going to miss the sunset and sunrise. The view had never
been that good from his old bedroom window. One more day in hospital and
then, the doctors had said, he would be free to go. But go to where? He had
no home and little money. The money Nabiki had given him was barely enough
to cover the funeral. He still remained surprised at her actions;
generosity had never been one of her strengths. Is she changing or merely
going through a phase of pity for him he hoped would not last?
The lack of anything to do frustrated him so. The doctors had warned
him off strenuous physical activity till tomorrow. He had received few
visits since Nabiki. People came but once they realised that he had no
money to give them - for food that they brought or places they recommended
he could stay or buy - their visits dried up quicker than the desert. He
remembered the look on their faces of those opportunists when they found
out his financial situation. Their fawning stopped and the respect for him
left existence. One of them even called him a "penniless freak" and said it
as if it had been on their mind for a while.
The facade cracked and his old life died. All those dinners his
family had been invited to, all those visitors that came round to his house
when he was younger and told his parents what cute children they had, were
based on greedy lies. Lie's intent on getting the money now in some
robber's corrupt hands.
How quickly guests left him, nowadays. "Too quickly..."
Was his perceived standing in this society founded by nothing more
than the Yen in the stolen safe? There was more to him and his family than
that. He was a warrior, fighting against injustice. Surely people could see
this and respect him for it? How could they not see his greatness? What was
clouding their vision? If only there was another Kuno here to help him
fight this battle of prejudice - now he was alone.
Why?
.....The day continued; the sun fell and rose much like the day
before, with clarity and a chill. Today was now the day he left the
hospital, and the day of the funeral. But still no clouds gathered.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
She stood there in black, her face paling against the stark dark
surrounding her. But no gasps of shock came to her as she glanced into the
mirror, looking like a ghost in a dress suit. Nabiki did not seem unnerved
by the white face staring back at her. Though, she did wonder why
Westerners dressed up in black for funerals... it was as if they were
wearing their souls on the outside, dark colours showing their dark,
grieving thoughts. And here she was now, wearing that colour of the night.
She had never cared for the two late Kuno's, what did she have to mourn...?
Blocking obvious thoughts that might make her lose her sacrosanct composure
at an important time, she turned away from the cruel mirror.
'Knock, knock.'
"Come in," Nabiki's steady voice spoke. She turned to see who would
want to talk to her with only a couple of hours till the funerals;
Western-style funerals at that. But then, it made perfect sense when you
thought of the late Principal Kuno and his odd obsession.
Another girl, also dressed in black, entered Nabiki's bedroom with
hesitancy. She stared at her thin, slight sister with her beautiful, wide
eyes, tainted with an uncommon sadness.
"Why so upset, Akane? You never liked the Kuno's, anyway," Nabiki
reported bluntly.
Akane looked a little shocked and disgusted at this comment and
stepped back slightly. "How... how could you say such a thing at a time
like this?"
Nabiki's stony demeanour set in, "Because it's the truth, that's
why." She brushed some invisible fluff off her shoulder and buttoned up the
last button on her smart, black jacket. Perfect, as always. She fixed her
eyes on her younger sister. "So, what did you want?"
"Um..." Akane searched her memory, Nabiki's words had knocked her
reasons far away. She just couldn't remember... But she knew it was
important.
"While you're thinking, I'll just get my winter coat." It was fairly
chilly out there, in the bleak midwinter. She wouldn't appear very
professional with a cold.
Akane watched as her elder sister put a long, black overcoat on; it
fitted loosely over the nearly 18-year-old. Too loosely. Nabiki had only
bought that coat a few weeks ago and now it was beginning to look a little
big on her. Akane now remembered what she'd wanted. It was just so hard to
approach her sister these days; Nabiki had been acting differently since...
since... the event. Akane couldn't single out anything, it was just a
feeling, a cold feeling...
"Nabiki?" she called out. "There's something I want to talk about
with you..."
"What is it?"
"Have... you eaten today?" Akane asked gingerly.
"Don't worry li'l sis, I'll grab something before we go," Nabiki
half-heartedly answered, not really listening as she sorted out today's
schedule in her head, double-checking times and places.
Not really convinced, Akane stepped forward and started to speak:
"You've hardly eaten anything or had a good night's sleep this past week
and a half... since, since..."
"...Since the fire?" Nabiki started to listen properly, her interest
bought and billed. "You know I've been busy. Trying to organise those
funerals for Kuno since he's useless with numbers."
"But you haven't visited Kuno since last week. Did anything happen?"
Nabiki froze for a few seconds, contemplating a stray thought, and
then melted back into calmness, unhappy with her sister's surprising
perceptiveness, "No, of course nothing happened." To tell the truth, she
hadn't really thought about it; there had been so much to sort out. She had
managed to convince the authorities that she was capable of taking care of
any paperwork. Just because that ungrateful jerk didn't appreciate.....
Oh. She couldn't possible care about what he thinks of her? She couldn't be
hurt that he had treated her hard work or him with such an arrogant,
dismissive attitude, even though he had kept the money in the end.
She was only trying to help him because she knew what it felt like
to try and find yourself when your whole life seems to be part of one big
practical joke... but for him to reject one of the few selfless things
she's done in her life shook her up. And she knew it had to be more than a
personal affront that made her feel on edge. She needed to know... but
first, she had funerals to attend. That came first, as her own personal
problems can always wait till later.
"Nabiki? Are you alright?" Akane asked, her face open with worry.
"Huh?" Nabiki blinked out of thought and came face to face with her
sister. "Yeah, of course I am." She patted her sister on the shoulder and
walked past her. "Now... I have some things to deal with."
"You will get something to eat, won't you?"
"I'll be leaving in ten minutes, OK? You guys can catch up." Nabiki
stepped out of her room and Akane listened sadly as her sisters soft
footsteps went down the stairs, till she couldn't hear them anymore.
"Oh, Nabiki," she whispered to the empty room, remembering her older
sister's faint, chthonic features and shadowed eyes. Why did she have to be
so stubborn and proud? "Please don't leave us like mom did... please."
Teardrops fell onto the carpet below.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
This suit did not feel right. The collar was too tight, the sleeves
too set in their place and the outfit was too confining and dark. Unlike
his flowing Japanese warrior outfits, which allowed freedom to move and
breathe as you battled your enemies. This was much like a school uniform
and held in about the same esteem, too. But it had only been honourable to
follow his father's wishes for a Western ceremony, yet he still felt unease
at this reluctant embrace with another culture so far from him.
At least his sister would not be totally offended with this
ceremony, black being the colour of her life and that damned gymnast outfit
she never seemed to take off. He hoped that mother would see his stance in
honour, in spite of the indignity suffered because of it, as admirable.
Perhaps, she might even forgive him for his recent emotional outlettings.
He had reasoned that that was the reason for Nabiki's sudden absence while
he was in hospital. She must have had her patience driven with such shows
of vulnerability, whilst struggling herself to keep her emotions in.
He had been so surprised by her mysterious generosity, it had
unnerved him to the point of scepticism. Her pity sorrowed him into shame.
He had to do better to hold up the family name.
And now here he was, free of the crutches from the hospital and of
the drugs that had weakened his mind with those voices, while strengthening
his body. Not that it had been an altogether unpleasant time in hospital.
The doctors and nurses had been quite impressed with his rapid recovery,
and so they should be. A mighty warrior like himself had to survive all
kinds of battles - a weak body would not do, it would not save lives...
A weak body like... like...
A passionless breeze swept across his unheated face, retrieving the
kendoist from his unwelcome, inner thoughts and into his perceived reality.
Why was it so cold? He knew it was winter but the frost seemed to
bite at him even more than it usually did. It must be this Western outfit,
thin and weak in wear. How he would love to be at home... practicing in
the underground hall or soaking in a hot bath, or even insulting his sister
and complaining about having pineapple for dinner for the fifth time in a
row. Life had been so reliable...
A smile appeared on his face
But it soon faded away....
Life was no longer the way he wanted it.....
'Crick'
What was that from behind him?
'Crack.'
He could hear footstep, cracking the hard ice on the ground into
jagged remains.
'Crick.'
Measured, controlled footsteps of one who felt in complete control.
'Crack.'
"Good morning, Nabiki," he greeted.
The sound of the footsteps stopped suddenly.
"Not bad, Kuno, not bad," came the reply. "Or was it just a lucky
guess?"
He turned round swiftly, enjoying freedom of movement, and faced
her. She looked much paler than when he last saw her. Maybe it was just the
harsh, brittle sunlight; he was not sure. "I did not expect anyone else to
arrive at the church, yet."
Nabiki stood firm on the stony path, facing Kuno and the old church
behind him. "I came to check up..." she spoke, stifling a rising yawn,
"...on the arrangements. Is everything in place?"
"I can handle everything from here, Nabiki. You have no more need to
worry."
"That's not what I asked," she replied with an edge of terseness.
His sudden glare made her step back a few inches. "You think I'm
incapable of managing? When my father disappeared to Hawaii, my sister and
I had to look after ourselves."
Nabiki had always wondered how they coped, she'd never considered...
"But how could - ?"
His stance became ever so slightly more angry. "Just because some
regarded my family as a mockery to be taken advantage of does not mean that
we are... were stupid," he corrected himself. Nabiki stood silently,
listening. "I merely view the world with a different perception to most.
Although recent events have changed my perception on certain things... and
certain people."
Kuno's eyes darkened as he recollected the harsh words of Mrs.
Okanoni and the pedestrians' cruel insults just before the car accident.
"Believe me, I am no longer as numb to criticism as I once was." This last
remark seemed less angry than before and Nabiki could see his face fighting
the want to slump into a resigned demeanour, although his eyes unknowingly
revealed hurt.
"Kuno, I -"
"I shall see you later, Miss Tendo." He backed away from her. "Thank
you for... for helping." He turned back towards the church and slowly
wandered to its entrance.
A second thank-you in less than a fortnight from Kuno would have
waylaid most people but Nabiki had grown used to this unpredictability, or
that's how it seemed. "I don't like being interrupted. Next time, let me
finish," suggested Nabiki in a warning voice, loud enough for him to hear.
"Hey. I might say something you want to hear, so try to respect me a little
more in the future."
He stopped for brief moment, sneezed from the cold, and then
continued on his short journey, leaving Nabiki slightly miffed with being
ignored. "...But there are bigger things to worry about," she whispered to
herself, her breath barely testing the frosty air.
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
'Crunch'
The frosty, prickly grass beneath their feet signalled the funeral
party's procession down to the burial site. A few had parted from the
proceedings after the prayers in the church. Some of them were the ones who
had "visited" Kuno in hospital, soon leaving. But they came to this, not
wanting to lose face and show the true reasons why they had ever befriended
the Kuno's.
A few did stay on, though, including the distraught members of St.
Bacchus' gymnastic team. At the front were the minister and Tatewaki Kuno,
his face hard and rigid, as it had been throughout the funerals so far.
Neither a smile nor a tear had graced his features. He did not want to
embarrass his mother by showing any undue emotion, though unwanted ones
were whispering at him from afar. They were to be ignored, no more. But
life was not that easy.
The two coffins followed behind him, carried by men Kuno did not
know. He preferred it that way. There was no-one he could think of he knew
that he would allow to touch his family's coffins. It was a saddening
thought to ponder on, so he did not.
Mingling in the quiet crowd behind the coffins, Nabiki strode
forward in muted confidence, deep in troubling thoughts... If she pricked
Kuno, would he bleed? She thought she had known the answer to that question
for over a week now. But seeing this seemingly strong, proud teenager keep
composed even as he saw the coffins of his only family, she was beginning
to doubt her analysis slightly. What worried her was that if she pricked
Kuno too much, the bleeding would never stop. This wasn't the time to think
like that but Nabiki couldn't help it. What else was she to think of?
Walking beside Nabiki was the unusually demure Akane, who'd stayed
out of Kuno's sight for the entire morning. Nabiki had told her to, not
asked but told her. Typical. But Akane's instincts had agreed with her
older sister's warning words. Something about Kuno was just not right. His
unpredictable, violent moods and that wild, unfocused look in his eyes when
he'd tried to attack Ranma had made her wonder if it was the real Kuno. She
knew that it must be hard for him to deal with life as an orphan but he
seemed to show no grief for what happened. What had happened to him, the
old, self-satisfied, egotistical Kuno? She still didn't like him but she
couldn't help feeling sorry for the new, more complex 'Blue Thunder'.
Kasumi stepped along with her sisters, seemingly oblivious as always
but actually keeping a close eye on Nabiki, who was showing more in her
frozen demeanour than she meant. Ever since the incident, Nabiki had been
working herself away, the light from her night lamp burning through the
edges of her bedroom door into the dark hallway. It wasn't healthy for her
younger sister to be so obsessed. Hopefully, Nabiki would return to normal
after the funeral, hopefully.
Secretly, Kasumi wished the same for herself. She wished she would
stop thinking of her mother, of her self-inflicted guilt for not seeing her
mother's condition in time, and how alike she was to "mommy." Too alike.
But most of all, Kasumi wished the memory of the last funeral she'd
attended wasn't so alive in her mind...
* * * * * * * * * * * * *
The two coffins sat beside their two graves. The crowd silently
gathered around the site; the minister ready to start the final ceremony.
The Bacchus' girls wept openly, standing on the side nearest to Kodachi.
Nabiki stood a couple of feet from Kuno, not too close, not too far away.
She eyed him carefully, watching for any reaction. Seeing that he held a
black rose close to him, almost hidden and not knowing what to think of
this, of anything at this moment, Nabiki looked away.
She saw that Akane had moved away from her and was standing with an
uncomfortable-looking Ranma, just out of Kuno's sight. Grinning inwardly,
Nabiki noticed that the two were tentatively holding each others' hands,
barely touching finger to finger. They probably didn't even realise it, or
were too aware of it to even spare a glance at each other; Ranma with his
head slightly to the side and Akane who was looking the other way. It
would've been cute if it wasn't for the timing...
......Then the minister started to speak, of unfortunate events, of things
gone by, of a religion that was only a minority in Japan, not realising the
most important person was not listening, was unable to...
One gravestone had Kuno's eyes locked on to it. He wanted to look at
the sky, at the crowd, at the ground beneath his feet but the compulsion
was too great, his eyes would not listen to his desperate requests.
[KODACHI KUNO, 16 YEARS] the gravestone said.
16 years... too short a life for anyone to live.
16 years... it should not have been this way.
16 years... only 16 years, oh my god, so young to die!
Suddenly the surroundings faded around Kuno and he could only see
the headstone of his late sister, glaring up at him. Everything began to
make sense and he felt with dread that he would not survive it, would not
want to... His eyes grew large with advent of sudden revelations, painfully
clear.
Oh, why did this have to happen at all, why?! What did he do to
deserve this??!
Kodachi Kodachi Kodachi Kodachi Kodachi, she died because of him.
His twisted little sister was dead because of him. She would have been
alive if it wasn't for him, for his incompetence, for his incompetence. He
killed her! She should still be alive!!
"Ohohohohohohohohoooh..!!!! Think you'd escaped me, older brother?"
An all too familiar voice cracked round Kuno's brain like a poisoned thorn.
"I may be dead but I'm not gone."
A ghost? To torture him for his inadequacy, one which stood, engraved
on a headstone before him? A failing to save his family written in stone,
an unredeemable sin?
"Only a ghost of your mind, my brother, of your soul. A stain you
will never lose." That horrible laugh started again, quiet but gaining
power and deafening. A shrill scream erupted from the laugh and ripped
through the kendoist. An exact recording of his sister's scream from that
fateful night and it played over and over and over in his mind. So
desperate, so vulnerable, so un-Kodachi, so chilling. Kuno's heart seemed
to depress further into him, hurting and bleeding into his soul. She had
called for help and he thought he could save her with ease, thought, in his
arrogance that he could save his wretched father, too... and he had been so
wrong, so foolish. "Your guilt will always be with you. And rightly so."
Kuno was his own worst enemy, not Saotome, and as hard as it was to
admit, as hard as it was to even think of it... he knew that Saotome would
have been able to save them in an instant. Anything worth living for,
breathing for, collapsed at this suggestion. The harsh light of reality
burned badly a ...Then the minister started to speak, of unfortunate
events, of things gone by, of a religion that was only a minority in Japan,
not realising the most important person was not listening, was unable to...
One gravestone had Kuno's eyes locked on to it. He wanted to look at
the sky, at the crowd, at the ground beneath his feet but the compulsion
was too great, his eyes would not listen to his desperate requests.
[KODACHI KUNO, 16 YEARS] the gravestone said.
16 years... too short a life for anyone to live.
16 years... it should not have been this way.
16 years... only 16 years, oh my god, so young to die!
Suddenly the surroundings faded around Kuno and he could only see
the headstone of his late sister, glaring up at him. Everything began to
make sense and he felt with dread that he would not survive it, would not
want to... His eyes grew large with advent of sudden revelations, painfully
clear.
Oh, why did this have to happen at all, why?! What did he do to
deserve this??!
Kodachi Kodachi Kodachi Kodachi Kodachi, she died because of him.
His twisted little sister was dead because of him. She would have been
alive if it wasn't for him, for his incompetence, for his incompetence. He
killed her! She should still be alive!!
"Ohohohohohohohohoooh..!!!! Think you'd escaped me, older brother?"
An all too familiar voice cracked round Kuno's brain like a poisoned thorn.
"I may be dead but I'm not gone."
A ghost? To torture him for his inadequacy, one which stood, engraved
on a headstone before him? A failing to save his family written in stone,
unredeemable?
"Only a ghost of your mind, my brother, of your soul. A stain you
will never lose." That horrible laugh started again, quiet but gaining
power and deafening. A shrill scream erupted from the laugh and ripped
through the kendoist. An exact recording of his sister's scream from that
fateful night and it played over and over and over in his mind. So
desperate, so vulnerable, so un-Kodachi, so chilling. Kuno's heart seemed
to depress further into him, hurting and bleeding into his soul. She had
called for help and he thought he could save her with ease, thought, in his
arrogance that he could save his wretched father, too... and he had been so
wrong, so foolish. "Your guilt will always be with you. And rightly so."
Kuno was his own worst enemy, not Saotome, and as hard as it was to
admit, as hard as it was to even think of it... he knew that Saotome would
have been able to save them in an instant. Anything worth living for,
breathing for, collapsed at this suggestion. The harsh light of reality
burned badly as he felt his stomach churn with queasiness and his throat
fill up with a bitter, sour taste.
Skin paling as blood fled his face, Kuno became aware of an
overpowering urgency to leave the funeral. Struggling against his fear of
mother's disapproval if he abandoned the funerals, another part tugged at
him, wanting to scream unless he escaped this crowd of people. He couldn't
take away the attention on his family - they deserved better. He.. had.. to
leave... but.. no! He had to go! Had to retreat, now! No choice, no choice
if he wanted to breathe!! All choked up, here! Cannot breathe, cannot
scream!!
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Cold, so cold. Standing uncomfortably, Nabiki shouted at herself for
wearing such thin shoes. The sun had begun to melt the ice and she had
stepped onto a once-frozen puddle of ice. Then it had cracked without
instant and the water had immediately soaked through the thin material of
her shoes, soaking her feet. She didn't need this! Now, she had to stand
through the funeral with freezing feet. Better get used to it, girl.
Nabiki tried to take her mind off it by looking around. Hmmm... the
over-done display of emotion by the Bacchus School girls, Akane and Ranma
still uneasily standing together, Kasumi appearing calm but slightly on
edge about something - Kasumi on edge? - and Kuno. Hang on, where's Kuno?
He was right here... No, can't see him anywhere.
Oh no. "I have a bad feeling about this," she whispered to herself.
What was she to do? Should she tell someone? Why did she feel so frightened
about it? He couldn't have snapped finally, could he? Oh no. How was she
going to tell someone without appearing worried or concerned?
Kasumi glanced at Nabiki - just to check she was okay in this cold
weather. Nabiki looked concerned about something, although she was trying
very badly to hide that fear. What could it be, she seemed to be looking
for someone..... "Oh dear! Nabiki, where's your friend Kuno gone to?!"
Kasumi covered her mouth in shock as she realised that she had said it out
loud.
The minister stopped speaking, the schoolgirls stopped their crying
and all eyes settled on Nabiki, who was rapidly losing her cool composure.
Hushed whispers gathered rapidly around the crowd. Nabiki didn't know what
to say, should she tell the truth or cover Kuno? What would be for the
best? Arrgh, why did he do this to her??! An alien sensation of indecision
cramped her and she heard her own voice speak, as if it were separate from
her mind: "He just disappeared! I don't know where he is, I don't know!!"
End of chapter 4...
Sorry! I hadn't thought it would take this long, I really hadn't! Blame
upheaval in my life, leaving me unable to concentrate. Please
give me some C&C on this rough, difficult to write anyway, draft of
chapter! Is there too much narrative, was it over the top? Do your worst!
Please? ^_^
~K-chan
k-chan@rocketmail.com