Hi all. Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own Ranma
1/2, Rumiko Takahashi and assorted companies do. I'm
sure not getting paid for this, so please don't sue
me, ok?

C&C is welcomed and appreciated, but flames are not.
If you're going to take the time to write an e-mail,
at least be constructive about your comments..that's
all I ask.

***

Twenty...she could have been twenty...
If only...

How does a parent deal with the knowledge that they
took away their child's life? 
How can they forgive themselves for making such a
horrible mistake, such a deadly mistake?

How can _I_ forgive myself?

It was such a simple wish...more of a prayer, really.
I wanted to be with my husband and my girls...I didn't
want to go, I never wanted to leave them. Three of
them had only started living, after all, and they
_all_ needed me.

And she _knew_ it. How could she have known, at that
age?
So young...
How could she understand the sacrifice she was making?
How much the world needed her? 

How much I need her now...

It's just not the same without her...god, I miss her
terribly and it's all my fault. I feared death and I
wanted to be with them, so she gave me a gift...a
beautiful gift...a gift that's been a curse for me in
the end. I wonder if this is my hell, purchased that
day with my selfish desires...

I wanted so much for her life.

I wanted her to learn to cook ever since she first
showed interest in it, when she was little. She tried
_so hard_ too, the concentration on her brow giving
her wrinkles before her time, her determination
winning over the balls of dough too large for her tiny
hands. How could I help but be pleased with the lumpy,
barely edible pieces of food she created? I ate every
one of them, and I would still...if she were still
here.

I see so much of her in Akane...and every time I
repeat my cooking lessons I almost cry. I can't do it
anymore-- not because Akane is hopeless, but because
it pains me too much to teach one of them again. I
only hope my notebook can help her cooking, because I
cannot.

And that just affirms that I did make a mistake in
staying. I can't even be the mother I wanted them to
have, so the sacrifice she made is all for naught. She
shouldn't have gone in vain, but she has. 

And it's all my fault.

I don't know how to be her. I can only be myself, and
that would give away my secret. Their father would
recognize me in a heartbeat if I acted as I really
am...we were _that_ close. But his withdrawal from the
family...god, how it hurt to watch what he was going
through. I couldn't comfort him like I wanted to, it
would have been too obvious. Most people wouldn't have
even conceived of the possibly, but with the
experiences he's had in his life and the bond that we
shared, he would have known. The only thing that I
could do was what I do best-- cook like I used to. It
made him happier for a time, at least...

But at what price?

I can't do anything to help them _permanently_ heal.
It's hell seeing them all hurting so much, and I being
so helpless...not being able to do a damn thing.
Again, a punishment, but one that is unavoidable and
worse...it penalizes them too. But I just can't do it.

How can a person act a part if they do not know the
character? 

I never knew her well enough. I have no idea how she'd
go about hugging them, rocking away their sorrows, or
kissing them, healing them with her touch. I cannot be
her and I cannot be me, so no personality shows at all
through her body. I take all that happens in stride,
nothing seems to phase me, the only evidence of _that_
deception being "my" trademark line. I heard her use
it once, you see, when she was younger. It's all I
could think of when the girl and the panda bounced in
the door. I was so surprised, and it's been used in
situations like that ever since. 

It seems as though that's all I've said this past
year.

And above all, she'll always be known as the person
that I've let shine through...the peaceful, unshakable
presence in their lives, no matter how many buildings
are crumbled, or hearts broken to pieces.

And that saddens me the most, I think.

I, and the rest of the world, will never know what
kind of person she would have really been.
I've robbed us all of her distinctive personality, her
trademark mannerisms, her individual thoughts and
feelings and words...all because I still wanted to
live.

And because I lack the ability to be her, I can only
let the essence of what I was shine through as her
identity-- a Japanese housewife.

I am Tendou Kimi-


"Kasumi!!!!", a cry sounded through the closed door.
 
She stopped writing and turned from her journal,
closing it discreetly as the person entered her haven.

"Yes, Akane?"

A hesitant voice greeted her, with eyes to match.
"Well...you've been your bedroom so long that dinner's
late...we were all worried when you didn't start it. I
offered to do it myself, but..." Akane sighed, her
voice betraying the anger and rejection she felt. "You
know how they hate my cooking..." 

A sob threatened to emerge from the older Tendou's
lips, but instead it formed into a plastic smile,
intended to hide the maternal instincts of sadness and
yearning welling in her heart. 

"Don't worry, Akane...I'll be right there."

***

Author's notes--

This is my take on why Kasumi is the way that she is.
(I'm not even going to _try_ to define how she is. Use
whatever words you like to describe her. ^_^) It was
influenced a lot by the OVA episode "Akane vs. Ranma!
_I'll_ be the one to inherit mother's recipes!" from
the "Like Water For Ranma" video, so if you haven't
seen that some things might not have made much sense.
Heck, some things might not have made much sense even
if you _did_ see it! ^_^ It's just a rough draft after
all so again, please let me know what you think.
Thanks for reading!!

===
"Listen up numskull. If Kasumi doesn't come back by dinnertime we're gonna have to eat Akane's _cooking_! Get it dimwit?? We eat that and man-oh-man we're all gonna wish we'd died at sea!!
*POW*  "Auh!"
"I _heard_ that."

-from the dubbed version of "Ranma 1/2 The Movie 2: Nihao My Concubine"
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