Tempest

Ryouga kicked a nearby rock in frustration as he stumbled down the dirt path. He was lost, as usual, yet this place seemed vaguely familiar to him. On the other hand, it was a simple dirt road; he had seen hundreds like it in his wanderings, and would likely see hundreds more. It mattered little where he was, anyway; the one place that he wanted to be was the one to which he could never again return.

He had considered other refuges; certainly Akari would have welcomed him, if he could find her. It had been months, though, since he had seen her; would she remember him? Even if she did, what did she know of him? No more than Akane had known... and she was not the one he wanted to see, at any rate. She was no more an option than any other; he would have to keep wandering.

It was no more than he deserved, he thought as he stared down at the path before him. For his dishonorable behavior a life without a home was just reward. He had broken Akane's heart and his own, and now he must live with the consequences.

The sounds of other people approaching stirred him from his tortured preoccupation, and he looked up to see that he had entered a village of some sort. A crowd, mostly composed of women, was gathering around him. He had heard enough Chinese to recognize the language, and he quickly guessed that he had somehow stumbled across the Joketsuzoku. It took him only a second longer to realize that he was not welcome. The crowd advanced upon him threateningly, and he took a step back, not wanting to fight. Then one of them shoved him backwards, knocking him to the ground.

Anger flared up inside him as he stood, feeling the power of his depression rise to his command. Just as he was about to lash back at his assailant, a commanding and familiar voice cried out from behind the mob.

The crowd parted to reveal the owner of that voice, an old and shrunken lady leaning on her staff for support. Nodding to him, she greeted, "Hello... Ryouga."

He blinked in surprise, and the blue aura dissipated as quickly as it had come on. "Hello, Cologne."

Ryouga scarcely noticed the villagers' astonished reactions as he followed Cologne back to her home. It was a rather unassuming abode for one who wielded such power over her people, he thought; then again, Cologne had never cared so much for appearance as for effectiveness. Perhaps it was the wisdom of age; he did not know.

At any rate, he appreciated her hospitality; he had been wandering for over a week now, and anything resembling civilization was good to him. When she disappeared for a few minutes, and returned with tea, he was even more grateful.

"So, how are things with you?" she asked.

"Oh, just fine," he answered hollowly, gazing at the center of the table between them.

She raised an eyebrow slightly in response. "I see. And how is the Tendou family?"

He looked up suddenly, "Huh?"

"I understood that you had been spending some time with them since... son-in-law's death."

He blinked. "Yeah, they're doing all right."

She nodded, a gesture that Ryouga thought to be entirely too perceptive. "So..." she began, her voice suddenly taking on an inqusitive tone, "what brings you here?"

For a moment, Ryouga froze, the question having struck a nerve deep within him. He recovered quickly, answering, "You know about my sense of direction," but it was not enough, and he knew it.

"Don't lie to me." Cologne looked at him wearily. "I've heard and seen it all in my years." A tone of concern crept into her voice--something he had neither heard nor expected there before--as she asked, "How are you really doing, Ryouga?"

"I..." he shook his head, unable to answer.

She nodded sympathetically. "I thought as much. The youngest of the Tendou family troubles you, does she?"

He nodded miserably. "I told her about P-chan... and other things. She said she never wanted to see me again."

She thought a minute. Her interference had caused no end of trouble to the girl; now, as her schemes lay in ruin, she had the chance to help for once. Perhaps... "We often say that which we do not mean. Why don't you tell me the whole story?"

Tendou Akane closed her eyes, forcefully narrowing her focus to the next movement as she attemtped to lose herself in the rigorous kata. Each motion demanded concentration, the devotion of her full attention to the art. Here she could forget her troubles, and the pains and angers she knew all too well. Here she could be truly alone.

With uncommon precision she proceeded through the steps, technically perfect but rigidly mechanical. There was no beauty, as there might be; no gentle grace adorned her motion. No emotion and no passion gave soul to the forms as she passed each one, only lifelessness remained. Death. Tendou Akane knew all of this, but she did not care anymore.

At least, that is what she wanted to believe; a part of her knew better. Nabiki's words again echoed in her mind, begging her not to lose her soul to the facade. How could she not? The pain was too much to bear.

Ryouga's revelations had been a crushing blow to her already wounded heart. She had trusted him so much; he had done so much for her... how could he destroy that? Why did he have to tell her... and why did he have to tell her THEN? She remembered the pain in his eyes, the clear disgust at what he had done... she might have forgiven him later, but she was still in too much pain. Now it was far too late.

Shaking her head in silence as she finished the exercise, she glanced outside the door. Nabiki had been sitting out there eariler, uncharacteristically quiet, simply staring into the pond. Surely she had moved by now, though, it had been nearly an hour...

...but Akane could see that she had not. Something was clearly wrong.

Nabiki sat silently, staring into the distorted reflection of her own gaze, and wondering if she had gone wrong. She had accomplished her objective; Ryouga had found his sense of honor and his courage, and he had told Akane the truth. Unfortunately, it had exploded in all of their faces; Ryouga was gone, his dreams smashed forever. Akane was devastated, and furthermore she was alone. Nabiki herself... she was forced to witness the consequences of her meddling, as her sister retreated farther into the mire of isolation. Was it worse than what she had moved to prevent? She had been so certain at the time, but now...

Akane's voice, unusually tentative, drew her from her reflections. "Nabiki . . . are you all right?"

Nabiki glanced up to see the concern in her sister's eyes, then quickly looked away. Drawing a deep, nervous breath, she closed her eyes and whispered, "No, I'm not. I... think I did something terrible."

She felt Akane's hand rest on her shoulder as she sat down beside her. "Want to talk about it?"

Nabiki nodded, a pained look crossing her face, "You... you need to know." Opening her eyes, she hesitated a moment, then sighed, "I made Ryouga tell you about his curse."

"Nabiki...." Akane breathed, stricken. "I... don't understand. Why?"

"I've seen too many secrets, Akane," she shook her head sadly. "I... I've used them, I've turned them against people, watched them destroy. I couldn't... wouldn't... let that happen to you."

"I..." Akane started, then paused. She could understand that, but... "Why now?"

Nabiki chewed on her lip, searching for the right words and unable to find any. "Because you would have fallen in love with him, and it would have been even harder... I don't know. I should have stayed out of it; I was wrong."

Akane nodded silently, holding back tears. "It's all right, sister."

Nabiki shook her head, gazing again at the faces in the water... her own, and her sister's. The sadness there, the pain... all because of her interference, her meddling. "No, it's not. But I can't change it now. All I can do is move on."

"... and now she hates me," Ryouga finished the tale in a whisper, hanging his head in shame. "And I deserve it." Cologne nodded, but her gaze seemed almost to be searching him. "Are you so sure of her feelings? She is known for overreaction, after all."

Ryouga sighed in frustration, shaking his head mournfully. "How could she not hate me? I took advantage of her, deceived her... because of me, Ranma is dead."

He felt the pressure of Cologne's staff lifting his chin, drawing his gaze up to hers. Only moments before filled with compassion, her eyes were suddenly stone as they bored into his soul; her voice was even and forceful as she spoke. "You are NOT responsible for the groom's death, young man."

He flinched from the intensity of her gaze. "How can you say that?" he protested.

"You made a bad decision in a crisis," she answered insistently. "It was an honest mistake, if a fatal one. In battle, these things happen; you cannot go on blaming yourself for it."

Ryouga shook his head. "Maybe," he answered, noncommittal.

"You must be willing to forgive yourself, or you will never be free of your suffering." Cologne paused, and her expression softened. "Trust me, I know."

Ryouga looked at her again, and suddenly he could see the pain in her eyes. One hundred years' worth of wisdom earned the only way it can be . . . by suffering. Maybe she knew more than he had given her credit for. Just maybe.

She smiled slightly at him; for the first time in his memory, it was a smile devoid of smugness or condescension. Instead, her eyes reflected compassion, and the burden of memory. "I have lived long," she spoke softly, "and long I lived before I learned to move beyond my mistakes. I hope that you learn the lesson sooner than I."

He nodded, recognizing the prod for what it was. Rising slowly to his feet, he spoke quietly. "I had intended to ask if I could stay a while, but now I think I need some time alone."

"Of course," she smiled, a bit of the smugness coming back. "Don't forget my advice, boy... no, you are a boy no longer. Take care, Ryouga."

He nodded, "I shall. Farewell, Cologne."

"Hello, Ranma," Akane's voice wavered as she spoke into the driving rain. She was alone in the graveyard, and yet... "I... I know you're not really in there, but... I feel closer to you somehow when I'm here."

She stopped, squeezing her eyes shut to hold back the tears. "I wish I could tell you that things are okay here, but they're not. I... I know about Ryouga, and...." Her voice trailed off as she choked back a sob. "Ranma, why didn't you tell me? We could have avoided this all if only you'd... no. I can't blame you for this."

"He's gone. I told him to leave... and now I'm alone. I mean, I talk to Nabiki sometimes, but she's got her own problems...." She drew a deep breath, and wiped a tear from her eye. "I have to be strong for her, and for Daddy... he hasn't taken your death well, either. Kasumi's having to spend all her time looking after him. I don't have anyone to lean on."

She hung her head sadly. "Why did I have to get so angry? I ran off the one person who wanted to help me. Why am I so stupid?" Weakly, she collapsed to her knees in desperation, dropping her umbrella on the ground beside her and feeling the rain strike her like a thousand tiny needles. "Why...?"

At that moment, as she knelt there on the grass, water running from the ends of her now-wrecked hair to fall to the ground, her head bowed in despair, she could almost hear Ranma's voice through the storm. He told her not to give up, told her to be strong... told her that things would be better soon, if she could just hold on a little longer.

She started, looking up at the headstone in front of her. Surely he couldn't... it must have been her imagination, or perhaps just a distant memory. Either way, though, it was something to think about. Nabiki needed her, her father needed her. Kasumi could use her help as well... she could not quit now.

"Thank you... Ranma," she whispered, slowly picking up her umbrella and rising to her feet. Casting a long glance at the inscription, with Ranma's name, the dates of his birth and death... she sighed. Ranma was gone, of course, but she would carry on--because he would want her to.

Another marker, this one merely a pillar of stones, marked the true resting-place of Saotome Ranma, and the builder of that memorial stood before it in silent sadness. He did not know why he had come here; the depths of depression that this place invoked were beyond any he had known before, and yet it seemed to draw him somehow. It was almost as if he wanted to be miserable. It was, after all, what he deserved.

Cologne's words returned him him then, "You must be willing to forgive yourself," she had told him, but how could he? What right did he have to forgive himself for the things he had done? He shook his head in despair.

Ukyou's voice came next from his memory, "We've all done some bad things, Ryouga . . . Honor is not perfection. Honor is admitting our mistakes and doing what we can to make them right." Had he not done all that he could?

It was not enough. Nothing could ever be enough. He drew a deep, ragged breath, trying not to cry, and knowing it was an effort doomed to failure. His shoulders sagged as he hung his head, and the first tear rolled down his face. It fell, splashing against the rock of the grave marker, and was suddenly gone. Much like Ranma.

With an effort, he straightened himself. Ranma had died in battle; the ki-blast which had buckled the cliff face had saved Ryouga from certain death. What for? a small voice in his mind prodded. So you could wallow in self-pity, like the miserable little pig you were?

No. another part of him responded. I will not dishonor his sacrifice so; I owe him my life. What, though, of Ranma's last request? He was still responsible for that, yet Tendou Akane would not have him.

Again, Cologne's words answered, "Are you so sure of her feelings?"

He had to try. Honor demanded it.

Ryouga quavered with trepidation as he first set foot on the Tendou property. At last, he had found it... and yet, he wondered if it was cause for celebration or mourning. He would know only too soon. Slowly, with all the willpower he could muster, he forced himself to walk the path to their front door. Kasumi greeted him there with her usual smile, and he was somewhat encouraged to see that some things, at least, were the same as ever. "Where might I find Akane?"

A slight worried look flashed across Kasumi's face at the question. "She's in the dojo," she answered hesitantly. "Are you sure...?"

He nodded. "I'm sure. Thank you, Kasumi," he answered, turning to go back outside. A wave of fear washed over him... was he really certain he wanted to do this? Pausing a moment, he closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, then opened them again and turned to walk slowly toward the dojo. He was nearly there when she stepped outside, and he froze.

Akane glanced up, sensing a presence... and stood likewise stunned as their gazes locked for an instant. Emotions flashed through her mind and across her face--anger, pain, sadness...

Ryouga's heart exploded at the sight; it was more than he could take, that just the sight of him could cause that reaction. He turned away, just missing the last emotions to cross her face--surprise, relief, and compassion. Hanging his head as he walked away, he was suddenly stopped by her voice. It was quiet, and tentative, as if she was not sure of herself, but Ryouga had never heard such a joyous sound in his life.

"Ryouga . . . wait."

Hope sprang up within his shattered soul, with wonderment that she could still want him and with fear that even this was some cruel trick of his fate. He turned again, to face her; there were tears in her eyes as she walked slowly toward him. She seemed so hesitant, was she unsure? No, he realized, it was fear on her face... fear much like his own. He couldn't understand that, but he held out his arms to her reassuringly, and she fell suddenly into his embrace.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I shouldn't...."

"Shhhh..." he responded gently, holding her tightly as the depression which had haunted him for so long faded into nothingness. "So am I, Akane, so am I... but it's all right now." All right, he thought... probably not the best words, but they were close enough. For the first time in his memory, he looked at the future with hope and a clear conscience. He had found love, and with it honor... and he finally had direction. Where that direction would lead him, he did not know, but he did know one thing: his feet might get lost, but his heart would never wander again.