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The FFML Refugee List
I am Become...
Epilogue
Disclaimer: As always the paints are the property of Takahashi
Rumiko, Viz video, and this time, also Nobuhiro Watsuki, who owns
Ruroni Kenshin. The easel is mine, but that is all.
Notes: Please _please_ be certain to read the first part of this
story, "I am Become..." before you read this fic. Otherwise, it will
make little-to-no sense. You can find it here:
http://members.tripod.com/lwf58/fan_fiction/durandall/index.html
---------------------------
Ennui.
She sighed, drumming her fingers against the table, and watching her
sisters closely. Something had happened, though what it was, was
beyond her...
Ranma too had been touched, dancing through a kata effortlessly over
the koi pond, managing to avoid slipping in with a... a... relaxed look.
A peaceful expression.
She shook her head, glancing at her younger sister, staring at her
pigtailed fiancee raptly.
Shaking her head again, she turned back, watching as Ranma landed
from a series of tight flips, and swept a bow towards the house --
only to slip and fall in.
Frowning, Nabiki turned away, ignoring his now-higher pitched peals
of laughter at himself as he struggled out of the pond, echoed
quickly by her sisters.
"Hey, sis?"
The older sister looked over, a bemused smile playing across her face
as Ranma set about drying himself off before entering. "Yes, Nabiki?"
"What's going on?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, what happened? How did Ranma's father get hurt, and why is
Dad acting so weird lately, and... where the heck did the old
pervert go?"
Kasumi turned somber instantly, regarding her sister frankly. "There
was a fight. Saotome no Ojisan was injured, and... Grandfather
Happosai moved along." Shaking her head, she rose, softness slowly
seeping back into her eyes. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid I
have to help a friend with something." She turned towards the pair
of girls -- towards Ranma and Akane, speaking in low tones on the
back porch. "Ranma? Akane? Would you care to join me?"
A light in Ranma's eyes flickered briefly, one that she had not seen
in the pigtailed martial artist's face before. A light that spoke of
confidence, strength... of... tranquility. She blinked, thinking for
a moment that it was mirrored in her sisters' eyes, but then vanished.
Ranma nodded, pulling his shirt on while Akane whispered something
that caused him to glower at her sharply, and stick his tongue out.
She turned away, already knowing what happened next, and pushing the
image from her mind. "So," she addressed her father, not catching
the lack of ensuing violence that she had somehow expected, "Can you
tell me what's going on?"
The man shook his head, his eyes seeming distant. "I suppose, Nabiki,
that they've grown up a bit." He amended a moment later, smiling at
her, "I suppose we all did. Come, Nabiki, let's say hello to your
mother."
She sighed, hanging her head. He would be insistent, and fall apart,
and weep and wail, and... "Sure, Daddy. Let's go." Maybe if they
were to hurry, he would finish weeping before dinner.
***
Scattered pebbles flung,
Sweep wide across the pond, and
Come home far apart.
---------------------------
Author's Notes:
That haiku, I believe, summarizes things quite well.
I don't really know what prompted this, what was originally a spamfic
on, "What if we expand on the 'Kasumi is a closet-super-power
cliche,' and make her the battousai!" somehow turned into a treatise
on something entirely different.
*sigh*
I apologize, because this story is both a good and a bad thing.
Because of this story, my friend, Durandall... is gone.
Studying the yin and the yang within this story has allowed me to
finally lay one of my own ghosts to rest, and I suppose that I'm as
complete as someone with disassociative identity disorder _can_ be
now, but... I'll miss Durry.
So thanks to everyone who helped me along this road, as confusing as
it is, and to Durandall, my friend... goodbye.
Any questions or comments can be directed to me.