Stars Against the Sun A Ranma 1/2 Fanfic by Alan Harnum All Ranma characters are the property of Rumiko Takahashi, first published by Shogakukan in Japan and brought over to North America by Viz Communications. This copy of the story is from my centralized fanfiction archive at http://www.thekeep.org/~harnums/fanfic. I can be reached by e-mail at harnums@thekeep.org ********** It was a late night in that dying moment between autumn's end and winter's beginning that he made his decision to leave. It was easy enough for him; he didn't have much he needed beyond what he could carry upon his back, and he never had. A quick job of packing silently and he was out the window and down onto the grass, still damp from the evening rain. When he turned to go, into the surrounding night, trying not to let his eye catch upon her shadowed window, he found she was behind him. "You're going, then?" she said, as if she'd always known. Mutely, he nodded. "Why?" He said nothing, for a long time, searching in his own soul. "Because we're too different," he said finally, as overhead the cat's-claw moon scraped at the stars. She nodded, and bowed her head. Her dark eyes closed, and her face was made pale by the silver of the moonlight. "I know." "I guess we always did," he said, and laughed bitterly. "We just never wanted to... we..." "I know," she said again, and he realized that she did. "I'm sorry," he said. "I am too," she replied. The night wind whispered through the grass around them, lightly teased at her hair and blew strands of it across her face. He saw that she was crying, tears silver, like the moonlight. He realized that he was crying as well. "It couldn't work," he said at last, there beneath the moonlight. "It never could. I'm a wanderer. It's in my blood. You, you were meant to stay here. You have so much here; family, friends, tradition. I, I have nothing. I have nothing to give you." "But..." "I can't stay here," he said, not letting her finish. "Not with everything else. The past always catches up to you." "It's strange, isn't it?" she whispered. "When you first came, I was sure I hated you. You were so unlike anyone I had ever known. You were loud, and brash, and..." She stepped forward, placed a small hand against his cheek. "And I fell in love with you. I don't know how. Only that I did." He put his hand over hers, brought it to his lips, gently kissed the cool smoothness of her skin. "And I with you. And I never thought I could love anyone, much less someone like you." "But you still want to leave, then?" she said. "Even though I love you, and you love me? Isn't that enough?" "No," he said. "No, it isn't." And it wasn't, he realized. Love wasn't enough, not for the two of them. What he'd said was true; they were too different. The distances between who he was and who she was were immeasurable. Love would turn, after a while, to bitterness, whichever way they went. If she went with him, she would always long for what she'd left behind; if he stayed with her, he knew that the open road and the world beyond would always call to him. Better to let it stay like this, this parting, and the love in it, that was true for now at least, would always be true. But oh, oh how it hurt. "No," she said eventually. "Sometimes, I guess it simply isn't." He still held her hand in his. He didn't want to let it go. He didn't want to let her go. But he had to. "You were just going to leave without saying anything, then?" she asked. "I thought it would be easier that way," he said. Far away, far, far away, a night bird called into the air, aching and lost and alone. "How could it ever have been easy?" she asked, half-closing her eyes. Tears sparkled on her cheeks like jewels. Like stars. The stars in the sky, and the moon, and the two of them; that was all there was. "I didn't say easy," he said gently. "Only easier. Only easier." "Do you think you might come back?" she asked, hopefully, tentatively. He was quiet for a long time, holding her hand against his cheek. They were both crying. They both couldn't seem to stop. "Maybe," he said finally. "One day. If the wandering is driven from my soul, and the longing from my heart." It seemed the thing to say, but he knew it was a lie. "Oh my love," she whispered, and she brought her other hand up to his face and drew her lips to his, a final kiss, a final goodbye. When at last they broke apart, he realized that he had to go now, had to turn away from the sight of her in the moonlight, or he would never be able to go at all. "I won't forget you," he said, and he knew he wouldn't. No matter what came between, he wouldn't forget her. "And I you," she said. He could say nothing more, and neither could she. If either had spoken again, then he could not have left. They stood there, looking at each other, for a long time. At last, he turned and went. He knew Khu Lon watched him as he went. He tried not to care. Behind him, the Joketsuzoku village retreated into the night, as the young man called Happosai went off towards the mountains and the ocean. When he was nearly a mile away, he turned finally and looked back. He could still see the lights of the village from here. Birdsong drifted to him on the evening breeze. He wanted to go back. But he didn't. At last, he turned from the light, and went into the awaiting dark. He realized he'd stopped crying a long time ago. ********** "Great-grandmother, I going to bed now." "Yes, child. Have a good rest. I'm going to stay up a while longer. Watch the moon and stars a little." Shampoo nodded her head and went back down the stairs that led onto the roof of the Nekohanten. For as long as she could remember, her great-grandmother had always stayed up all night on this date, always around a time when the last of the leaves had fallen but the first of the snow was still to come. She always meant to ask about it, but something about the old woman's mood on these nights always prevented her. As she walked into her room, she shrugged. It was probably something deep and mystical and wise anyway. Not something that she could ever possibly understand. THE END As the mist leaves no scar On the dark green hill So my body leaves no scar On you and never will Through windows in the dark The children come, the children go Like arrows with no target Like shackles made of snow True love leaves no traces If you and I are one It's lost in our embraces Like stars against the sun As a falling leaf may rest A moment on the air So your head upon my breast So my hand upon your hair And many nights endure Without a moon or star So will we endure When one is gone and far True love leaves no traces If you and I are one It's lost in our embraces Like stars against the sun -"True Love Leaves No Traces", Leonard Cohen Author's Notes: I guess I've always liked Cologne and Happosai. I know a lot of people don't; they tend to get badly treated (not that Happosai doesn't deserve it much of the time) in a lot of fics. Both (particularly Cologne) are often portrayed as far more malicious than they actually are in the manga, so I usually try to give them a better shake than most in my work. I wonder about them as well, I suppose. What they were like in their youth, before a century changed them into the people they are today. I guess this is just an attempt to answer one aspect of that.