Mark Gunther wrote:
Title: Every End, A New Beginning
Author: S. Mark Gunther
Part: 1/?
Summary: From batchelor to father; the ultimate reality trip.
Pairing: None yet.
Warnings: Language.
Disclaimer: This is Rumiko Takahashi's series. All I do is merely butcher
it. All praise should go to her and all shame should go to me.
Archive: To anyone who asks.
C&C welcome? ;)
I write, therefore I am.
I sing, therefore I am.
I desire, therefore I am.
To err is human. ^_^
I guess it's my fault that she left. As much as I'd like to think it
wasn't, as much as my friends here would love me to forget that it even
might have been, I still know it's my fault she left. And it's tough to deal
with. It's even tougher that I'm still here and thriving. It's tougher still
that she declaimed that she would never love anyone else again, especially
someone as silly and as childish as I.
declaimed -- proclaimed (?)
Normally people drive others away by being there too much. Overstepping
their boundaries. Becoming jealous. You know, the little things like that. I
drove her away by not supporting her when she needed someone to hold her.
For once in my life, I just couldn't bring myself to do it. And she
responded by leaving. She convinced that old monkey that it was time to go
and the biddy took the bait. And just like that, I was losing the one thing
I had always wanted.
Shampoo? Well, arguably he never had her to lose (unless I'm messing this up)
Oh, right. Before I forget:
These are just my opinions, and you can ignore them as you see fit.
Sometimes dreams merely die. Mine always seemed to crash and burn.
Meh. Bit melodramatic there, aintcha, duck-boy?
She did have the right idea, however. She left when she knew she was
licked. She left when it was all over. She left when her honor had been
extinguished. I, being the dishonorable bastard that I am, couldn't go back.
And I didn't want to. Not without her honor and not without my arm around
her. It was just too much to ask for her, the idea that she could love me in
time. Hell, she was going to have all she could deal with when she got back
home.
As far as I can tell, in terms of Mousse in the Amazon village, he never
had an honor to lose anyway. At least, not among the women, where it
would really matter.
And so I watched her leave. I watched her leave and she barely said
goodbye. The old crone even said more to me then she did. And for that, I
was able to give Cologne my highest respect again as a person. She at least
acknowledged that I was far too good for her great-granddaughter. Or far too
stupid. Whichever came first. She tried to make it sound stern and serious
but the smile in her eyes and the sad look on her face told me more then
ever. So it made it a lot easier to know I was going to stay here, alone,
nearly penniless and without any marketable skills. Nothing that is, except
my kitchen skills.
Repetition of 'skills' -- why not change the last to 'my abilities in a
kitchen', or the like?
The old biddy was setting me up for when she'd leave. She knew I
couldn't and wouldn't come back to the village so she made sure I had the
skills I would need to get a decent job here and start over. Her final words
rang in my ears as I walked back to the Nekohanten to pack my things:
"You're on your own now. Get a job, get over my great-granddaughter and make
something out of yourself."
Hm. I can't help but think that Mousse's subconcious mind is playing
tricks on him, convincing himself that Shampoo is worse off than she is
so that he can appreciate his own situation better.
The bitter rasp in her voice stung as I realized that she had
jettisoned me in a hostile sea called Japan. And yet, as I went for my first
job interview I knew I could do all right for myself. The chef looked me up
and down, insulted me at my first demonstration attempt and then marveled as
I corrected the mistake better then he could. I knew I had suckered him in
just right. The job was mine and with it came respect and diligent study
through work.
Well, all of the respect that a position in a kitchen can demand; unless
it's a classy resturaunt....
I found the joy in work again. I felt good coming off of a shift at
work. It was painful losing her and painful getting over here but everyone
else in the kitchen I worked in had dealt with it. It made it easier to deal
when I immersed myself in my work. Scrambling to pay my bills, making my
money stretch further then I thought it could, all of it made me stronger
inside. The iron in my backbone became tempered steel as the days and the
months passed. I could deal.
This passage happens to hit close to home for me.
I must say... well done.
And it also made the times when I couldn't deal so much more able to be
weathered. The long nights I spent alone walking the streets seemed almost
therapeutic. I cursed the sky, the gods, my poor luck, and my bad eyesight,
everything in sight. I cried in bushes and drank with salary workers in
corner bars. I did the things only older men do and I hadn't even passed my
18th birthday. So when the morning came when I realized that I didn't miss
Shampoo anymore, that I didn't care if she lived or died, had children or
remained frigid and barren, I turned a cartwheel and cried like a little
girl. Tears of joy.
eyesight, everything -- eyesight; everything (?)
Years passed. I went to college and got a diploma in Chinese history.
Ranma and Akane got married and moved to Kyoto to escape the Nerima
whirlpool that had formed around them. The shotgun elopement they had was so
sudden and so downright unexpected that it threw everyone for a loop.
Everyone except me, for I was Ranma's best man. By that time he and I had
buried the hatchet and were nearly best friends. Soon I realized just how
much pain was in this young man and I helped him mature and grow as I had to
on my own. I found myself looking down the barrel of my post teenage life
with more hope and optimism then ever before. By 23 I was happy and looking
forward to going forward.
The sudden reintroduction of Ranma and Akane to a very Mousse-centric
fanfic should be more jarring, but strangely, it isn't, really. It feels
like a casual conversational digression. Either the haze of endorphins
makes me think this is great, or it really IS great. :p
Then she had to go and die. That bitch. That silly cunt had to go off
and be little miss hero for the village. Apparently she had shacked up with
some male who already had a fianc�e and got pregnant by him. While I was
exorcising her demons from my life, she was bringing another life into the
world. Her neck was broken as she confronted the woman for whom her child's
father was involved with. She died to save her own shaky honor and the honor
of her child and now that child was coming to me. The amazons did not want
her, her biological father did not want her and so I became her father,
pursuant to the suggestion of Cologne.
little miss hero -- Little Miss Hero -(or maybe)- little-miss-hero (I'm
not really sure about this one).
I'm not ready to become a father. Shit, I barely am able to take care
of myself from day to day! Sure I dress well, work hard, maintain a tidy and
well-kept house but my internal life is a fly by night, no strings attached
kind of life. A child, and an impressionable tomboy at that, would cramp my
young male life. And yet...hearing that she was my former love's child made
me thaw the part of my heart I had frozen over. It hurt to remember all the
pain I had put myself through and yet knowing I was going to carry on her
legacy was not the worst thing in my mind to deal with.
fly by night -- fly-by-night
In the grand scheme of things, he's finally got a small part of the spark
that was Shampoo. I can't imagine him rejecting that very easily.
She's coming today. My life changes today. Oh fuck I'm not ready...
... -- .... (use four periods in an elipses that terminates a sentence).
Mousse stared at the busy runway and sighed. He didn't know what the
little girl would look like, what she'd act like, how she'd react to now
being the ward of a man who only loved her mother. His hand shivered
slightly as he looked at the people coming off the plane.
only loved -- had only loved (?)
"Feeling nervous, Mousse?" Nabiki said softly, her hand intertwined
with his and adorned with a small diamond ring.
Now, this part doesn't work quite as well for me. There's simply no real
leadup to it.
"I know..." Suddenly, Mousse let go of Nabiki's hand and ran forward. A
small girl, with a large cardboard nametag pinned to her shirt emerged from
the tunnel being lead by a woman who looked very similar to Mousse. With a
cry and a run, the two similar looking people embraced and smiled broadly.
"I didn't think you'd come, Ai Xiado..."
Elipses -- both of these should be four periods, not three, since they
both terminate sentences.
"I do?" Mousse replied softly. Po shook her head affirmatively and
hugged Eyeshadow's legs tightly.
replied -- questioned -- query
"What, you answer questions with questions?"
"Don't you?"
"Goodbye little one. I'll be sure to come visit you as soon as I can."
Eyeshadow looked into Mousse's eyes and smiled. "Are you ready to take her
Mousse? I need to go and catch a plane."
her Mousse -- her, Mousse
"Yes, Po. We're going to your new home." Mousse took Po's hand in his
and walked down to where Nabiki stood waiting for them. As he walked to his
fianc�e, Mousse couldn't help but feel like he was a child again, holding
Shampoo's childish hand in his youthful fingers. Only now he was honoring
her memory by bringing up her child as best he could.
Which language were they all speaking in that passage?
Notes and Omake: Ok, normally I don't do author notes anymore because of how
much I prefer for my stories to speak for themselves but I think this one
needs an explanation. I was waiting up for my psycho mother to come
downstairs and wash the carpet so we could move in a sofa and this fic came
to me as I read Gendou Knepper's stellar work. I'm posting this as a spamfic
but I'd like feedback on this because as much as this is a spamfic I think
it has good quality. If you people think something good is behind this, I'll
rewrite it and fatten it up. So you could call this a draft but considering
how much people ignore my work I might leave it as is and go on with my
other work. Thank you for reading this far.
I don't know. I had always considered spamfics to be humorous, and short
fics to just be... shortfics. ;)
For THAT, I like every aspect of it but the Nabiki angle. This is
something that's introduced too quickoy for me to really appreciate. The
rest of it's brilliant, and easy to follow, and then there's this 'And
then there was Nabiki' part... and she doesn't really have much of a
role, either.
It COULD work, but it needs more attention paid to it. Flesh it out,
develop it, build on it a little more... or drop it outright, and come
back to it in another story. Perhaps a sequel or a prequel. Scanning
your work over, ask yourself if that piece of the story really fits
there, or if it deserves a story of its own.
Well, suffice to say I enjoyed it, and thank you for sharing with us. It
was quite welcome, at least for me. :)