From: Chibi-Chiriko Ohayou gozaimashita, minna! *gets hit by a bunch of flying tomatoes, curses, etc.* I expected that. *smile* I won't say anything more -- I know I shouldn't have said what I said yesterday, and I'm sorry. But I'm not here to apologize (already did that yesterday) I'm here with Reiki 7, for anyone who's interested. Yup, this is the last, and it's got an open ending, which is a killer, but I've grown to love open endings these past few months. As I've grown to love torturing certain tortured bishounen... ^.~ *deep breath* So, here goes... +*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* DISCLAIMERS: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Jump Comics, Shueisha, Fuji TV and SPE Visual Works. This is a nonprofit work of fanfiction; all original RK characters are used without permission from the owners. No copyright infringement intended. REIKI by: Chibi-Chiriko EPILOGUE: A Beautiful Face Without a Name My love for you will only be for a certain length of time... This love of mine for you will see no end For that length of time will be for all time... -from "Minsan Lang Kitang Iibigin" Translated by yours truly ^,~ The whispering wind of approaching daybreak was cold despite the fire that slowly burned at the head of the torch. Yes, despite the thick trenchcoat that was tight around me, I was cold, though not shivering. My mind was blank, unthinking, as I approached the funeral pyre amidst the forest clearing, holding the torch with one hand. I heard the calm, quiet breathing of Saitou, who stood a few feet behind me, silently watching. Seta was standing next to him, and I could feel the turmoil wracking him from within. A short distance away stood Tokio, watching wordlessly by the trees, her long black bangs shielding whatever emotion filled those tender blue eyes. I stopped in front of the pyre, and gazed at the limp, lifeless figure that lay there. Makimachi Misao, that was her name, I'd been told. She had been beautiful in life, and I had never glimpsed a more serene, more peaceful face in death. The scars seemed to have vanished completely from the once weary face, her cheeks were pink like newly bloomed roses, her lips curled up into a slight smile. Her eyes were closed, and her fingers were crossed over her chest, an image which reminded me of someone wishing for the impossible. I knew not why, but strange feelings surged up inside me as I was about to set her corpse on fire. Such puzzling thoughts, vague memories, dancing emotions I did not understand... they washed over me like the rain over a dry field. It was as though a tiny tongue of flame was flickering inside me, it was as though something deep down inside had gone to its rest, had quietly been resurrected back to life after a long, dreamless slumber. Tears were stinging my eyes, the reason for which I couldn't think of. And strangely yet, I was not sad. Not at all. I dimly remembered that shortly after Misao had passed away, Saitou had quietly asked if I wanted to do the honor of giving her peace, of burning her back to the ashes she had come from. I didn't know why I had agreed to that, but I had. And then Saitou had smiled, and turned away, and Tokio and Seta stole outside the room. When I walked out, still in a daze, I heard the sound of their sobs echoing in the hallway. Forcing all these feelings aside, I lay the torch over Misao's heart, and looked to the sky. As I heard the flames cackling, rising over her frail, thin body, I saw the stars slowly melt away into the darkness of the night. I heard the flitting of bats' wings, and the chirping of the birds. The night was slowly fading, pink streaks of daylight stealing into the darkness, black lightening into blue. My gaze returned to Misao, and I saw the bright orange flames licking her body, tasting, then devouring its beauty ravenously, like vultures swooping down on some hapless carcass in the middle of the desert. The heat of the fire came over me, warming me until I felt beads of slight perspiration on my forehead. A sudden gust of icy wind swept past, making me shiver. I heard a soft, clicking sound from inside my trenchcoat, and when the wind had died down, a tinkling, familiar tune began its quiet dance on air. At the same time, I noticed that the edges of my coat caught fire. I heard a sharp gasp, and footsteps coming toward me caused the leaves to crackle. I swiftly whirled around, eyes narrowing, channeling a powerful surge of ki to keep his distance. Seta gasped -- I could only imagine the look on my face. He stumbled backward against Saitou, then tripped as he tried to scramble away from the man... ... and Saitou's gloved hand closed around the boy's shoulder, pulling him back up to a standing position. This brought a tired smile to my face, and I turned away from them. My fingers reached for the locket at my chest, and I flicked it open. The thick, intoxicating scent of incense burned into my nostrils. I ignored the tingling pain it brought to my nose, as I ignored the flames igniting on my clothes, burning hotter and hotter as they spread all over me. There was a cold, hollow ache at the bottom of my stomach as I saw the immaculate blue sapphire sitting on its enamel crest inside the locket. It was cracked, no longer perfect, yet still heartbreakingly beautiful. It sparkled hauntingly in the firelight, and the way it caught the light and made it look beautiful despite its danger brought forth the memory of eyes like blue roses, and a voice like the flapping of angels' wings. I closed my eyes, and smiled softly. I didn't look back as I said: "Seta, Saitou, Tokio -- please leave me be." I heard Tokio's sharp intake of breath, the stifled sob in Seta's throat, Saitou's understanding sigh. The rustling of clothing, the fading din of footsteps... and they were gone. The flames had, by now, penetrated my skin. I suppressed a cry of agony as I felt the heat slowly consume my weak flesh, driving me to insanity as it seared my hair, my face, my eyes. My body was suddenly caked in freshly running blood, enveloped in a pillar of pain and fire. I stood dying by Misao's deathbed, the tender melody of the golden locket barely audible over the cackling flames and the hissing smoke. My tears were steamy as they ran down my hot cheeks. I felt the rays of the sun pierce me, and what torment it was! Hit me like burning, unforgiving ice, deepened the agony like salt poured into an open wound. Intolerable, unbearable it was, yet I stood firm though hurting, unflinching though slowly dying. As dawn broke over the forest, as the fire ravaged the last of that spot in the night, I gently took Misao's hand and held it over my heart. Flames danced widly before me, dimming my vision, and over its merciless war chant came my anguished whisper. "Ohayou gozaimasu... soshite, sayonara..." I smile weakly, and snuff the last of the flames out with my boots. I now live as a quiet, broken man, humbled by fate's harsh circumstances, swaddled in the painful reality of fate's brutal honesty. No longer do my kodachi hang at my side; I have discarded them altogether. No longer do I venture back to the comforting wooden arms of the Aoiya, lest it be in the deepest of the darkest night, when I stand in front of the door and watch it quietly as the moonlight bathes it in an ethereal white glow, disturbing thoughts and memories forming the image of a vivacious young girl making it to the roof for the very first time without crutches. I reside alone atop the mountain that was once Shishio's fortress, that which is known as Mount Hiei, which I know no one will ever dare wander into. I have built my own shack there, which is surprisingly sturdy and has survived the utmost fury of the worst of assailing storms. And though I know that one day, it will crumble, unable to support itself, I will still be able to move on without it. Money I have found no use for. What purpose would it serve for a man who picks fruit off trees or hunts sparingly in the forests, one who mends old clothes instead of craving new ones, one tempered into acceptance of whatever the wind brings when it comes? I have rejected society, and society has rejected me, save for those who sought my help every now and then -- and even them I rarely welcome into a world that's -- literally and figuratively -- my own. After nearly burning myself to cinders at Misao's funeral pyre, the Oniwabanshuu stopped looking for me, and I believe it was Saitou who told them that I was dead, that I had died of a broken heart on the girl's deathbed. I like to imagine that he did it with that grim smile of his, with a cigarette in his mouth, dark amber eyes conveying no emotion whatsoever. I still see the women's shocked faces, the bitterness on Kuro's and Shiro's faces, the pain in Okina's eyes. I picture Saitou walking away from the scene, and I doubt they ever go to him ever again. Perhaps you wonder how I survived. I wonder that myself, in fact. I wonder why I did not die though I was supposed to, and I wonder if it was this new life I was headed for all along. I remembered holding Misao's hand in mine, and whispering good morning and goodbye. And then the sudden silence, and darkness. And when I opened my eyes, I still lay there, and it was night time again. I was sore all over, aching everywhere, most especially in my head and in my heart. Misao's hand was nothing more than ashes in my palm, and I recall crying quietly when I saw nothing more than a heap of ashes on the sooty pyre. I erected a headstone for her -- I did not know her, though she had raised such strange feelings in me, and yet I felt that she deserved at least that much from me. I carved her name onto the stone, and gathered a bunch of sweet-smelling wildflowers to lay at her grave. I do that every year, I wander back to her deathbed and offer flowers, as though they were all I had to offer. And I still wear the locket, though its song fills the air no longer, having been partially damaged by the fire. It's strange, really. I remember so clearly the events that weaved my childhood together, and the years after that, as Okashira of the Oniwabanshuu, and even the heart-wrenching demise of my four loyal comrades up to the first time I tasted the steel conviction of Himura Battousai's Amakakeru Ryu no Hirameki -- and yet after that, my mind is a blank, empty of memories to fill in the years, the space. Whatever took place within the last five years is a mystery to me, I have no memory of that time. The only things that fill the void are matters of the heart, feelings instead of clear pictures, music instead of voices. Passion, for instance, though I have no recollection of what kindled such fiery love; bittersweet grief though I have no idea of what brought about the anguish. I feel like a blind man at times, leading a life without vision, governed by emotions and sounds and nothing else. The only thing I remember that ever seemed more real than anything else in my life was Misao, whose ashes were now scattered all over the night. It's almost as though I knew her from somewhere, like I've met her and held her long before I witnessed her on her deathbed. It's strange, truly strange, but I doubt I'll ever find the answer, if there *is* an answer. And if there *is* an answer, I doubt I'd want to know. Some things are best left unexplained. I am not always alone, and even when I am left alone, I rarely feel truly lonely. Every now and then, Saitou comes up to the summit, and elicits my help in solving a baffling police case, and I see what I can do. More than once has he offered me a position on the police force, and though the offer *can* be tempting, I always humbly refuse. So does Seta, who, like me, only drops by on occasion, and only on the prompting of duty, or on whims. Yet unlike myself, he has not completely rejected life amongst those who live unknowingly in its brightness. For two years now has he been seeing the daughter of a farmer, and I hear he's planning to ask for her hand in marriage once she turns twenty. I gaze up at the black garden of night. Sparkling flowers bloom into momentary existence. Down comes the sweet nectar of rain. I smile as I feel the cool, soothing rainwater course down my body, drenching me in a comfortable soak. Then the rain turns cold, and clouds pass over the stars. Time for me to go to sleep; the night holds nothing more for me, and there is no reason for me to stay awake. I crawl back into the shack, and settle down on an improvised futon out of dried leaves, and wrap my trenchcoat over me like a blanket. I hear the rain beating down on the roof of the shack, and I close my eyes. Sleep will come to me soon, and in a matter of hours it will be morning. As I drift off into a comforting slumber, those strange feelings that take the place of the five-year-long memories swell up inside me, burn stronger than ever. In the corner of my mind's eye, I see a strong, beautiful face reflecting a fiery, passionate spirit. Bluish black, raven hair frame a porcelain-like facade, sparkling cerulean orbs seem to twinkle forever. It is the face that always appears whenever those feelings plague me, and whenever that sweet, angelic face shimmers into life, my heart is put to rest, any subconscious turmoil fades, and I can almost feel her breath against my cheek, her hand against my heart. I can almost hear a familiar voice whisper softly, "Recover it and don't look back!" OWARI 2/17/00 Modified: 2/26/00 I. HAVE. FINISHED. I did it. I did it! *spins around in a gleeful dance* I have finished this fic! Congratulate me, people! Betcha didn't think I could do it, didja? Well, if you did, then bless you! If not, well, shame on you! ^_^;;; OK, so lots of things I was hoping to put in this fic didn't appear. I think this fic took on a mind of its own, and wrote itself, moving too fast for me to monitor! *flinch* Scary! Something about the very ending doesn't satisfy me -- I *may* have to revise when I'm in a more inspired mood. ^.^;; Nevertheless, I was able to prove to myself that I finished it, and I have a reason to be proud of myself today! *beams* As for that lovely song -- I don't know who sang or composed "Minsan Lang Kitang Iibigin" but it's a wonderful Filipino love song. It's too cool for me to claim for myself. ^^;; Wonderin' why Saitou, Tokio and Sou-chan didn't save Aoshi? Don't ask me, ask *them*! *grin* No, they didn't save Aoshi because although they *wanted* to, they couldn't, and they wouldn't dare. Their respect for Aoshi's right to make his own decisions tops everything else. The guy's a grown man; he knows the consequences of every decision he makes. Besides, Misao's *dead.* They didn't think he'd really get to live much of a life after she burns into oblivion, so they decided maybe it would be best if he just died -- which he obviously did not. About the memory thing -- remember the dream sequence in the previous installment? She somehow visited him one last time, trying to knock some sense into him, and seeing that he would not learn to hope in time to save her, she decided it was best that he forget about her than go on hurting for the rest of his life. A noble decision, if I have anything to say about it! ^-^x Who wants to be completely forgotten? But she was willing to have the one she loved above all forget about her so that he wouldn't have to bear so much pain, and she could only hope that he would find it in himself to be happy someday. And yet, it appears he didn't *completely* forget about her, did he? Although his mind becomes completely blank when he tries to remember what happened within the last five years, his heart certainly is not. The feelings he felt for Misao are still there, though he does not fully understand them, and there are times when she just suddenly pops up into his head, and though he doesn't recognize her, his feelings do and they react appropriately, creating a feel of intimacy that tones down his curiosity. And after that, the rest is history! He sort of takes on a new life, kinda like Kenshin, except he doesn't wander. He's just a loner, lives like a hermit on Mount Hiei, never dwelling on the past for too long, helping Saitou out when absolutely necessary. It may seem like a lonely life, but for a man who's lost everything without quite knowing it, it's happiness. He gets to observe the world from a distance, he gets to learn without having to subject himself to pain. And he lives for himself now. He's not the Okashira anymore. He's just another ordinary man (though I wouldn't call him ordinary after all he's been through). Unknowingly, Misao's message seems to have reached him -- and maybe when he truly decides to forgive himself, and maybe even love himself, he can venture back into the light and be really happy. The kind of happiness that doesn't need a smile to show, I think, is what he needs the most. "Recover it and don't look back!" That's a fateful line from Misao's legendary "Ice Blue Eyes" -- I nabbed it from Miyashi-sama's translation. Go check it out at her site: ^,~ Finally, for the credits! *drumroll please* A million domo arigatou gozaimasu's to Jessica Steiner, Selene Chou, Callista-chan and Anne Akemi for having unknowingly supported me throughout this fic. Without your encouragement, egging me on to "finish the fic" and "good luck", I never woulda gotten this far! Also, a big big hug for Jen Tochi-chan (aka Tochi-sama) for her advice, and her support. Ditto for Jessica-sama and Selene-sama! Thanks to all my sources for act titles and songs and poetry! Hehe, they do spoil me, letting me indulge in their greatness. Special credit goes to Tin Mandigma's "Farewell to Innocence" (of all your fics, this is the one that has inspired me the most when it comes to writing angst). I didn't realize that the plot was surprisingly like yours until the middle of this fic, and I hope you don't mind. There *are* noticeable differences after all. A long-due arigatou to Pan-sama, whose lovely fic "Chronicles of a Rurouni" got me hooked on RK fanfiction. Yup, thumbs up to you, too! Thanks to all the happy websites from which I nabbed song lyrics and inspirational RA files and MP3's for this fic; without the music, I never woulda been pushed to finishing it. To all the very kind, selfless, God-sent people who actually gave comments on my fics (ESPECIALLY those who commented on the other fics aside from "In the Grasp of Dusk"), you deserve your own thanks as well! And of course, praise the Lord for His ever-present guidance, despite all the shortcomings and despite my obvious ignoring Him -- You've been very patient with me, and this is my way of thanking You. Mata ne for now, and take care! ~~Chibi Chiriko-chan __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Talk to your friends online with Yahoo! Messenger. http://im.yahoo.com ------------------------------------------------------------------------ GET A NEXTCARD VISA, in 30 seconds! Get rates as low as 0.0% Intro or 9.9% Fixed APR and no hidden fees. Apply NOW! http://click.egroups.com/1/911/4/_/455156/_/951616784/ ------------------------------------------------------------------------