Changes of the Sword

		    By Kyle Emmerson

    Ranma ½ and all of its characters and situations are
the creation and property of Rumiko Takahashi. I use
these characters and situations without permission.

****

	People oft wonder about me. The way I dress, the way
I act, the way I speak.

	Gods, even I wonder about myself. I wasn't always
like this. I was once a normal boy. I had the desires of the
normal boy. I wanted the newest toy on the market. I wanted
to be the first on my block. I played video games, I
even had friends.

	And then, it happened. It was so sudden that it
didn't start taking its effect upon me for some time. Nearly
a month.

	The death of my mother hit my father first. He was
silent for weeks, not speaking a word. And then suddenly, he
was gone. I had returned from school to find that he had
left for Hawaii, leaving my sister and I in the care of
the servants.

	My sister was the second casualty. I saw a change in
her as I'd never seen. She used to be a pleasant girl.
Fighting over the affections of boys in her class, drawing
pretty hearts on her schoolwork.

	But soon, she drew roses. Not red or pink, as one
would expect from a girl, but black. Black roses, as dark as
the night. It took her two months for her personality to
make the transition from a sweet, twelve year old school
girl, to the Black Rose. What was before a mere hobby
then became her life.

	She had always enjoyed gymnastics. It often pleased
me to watch her practice her routine. To smile with pride as
she successfully completed a complicated manoeuvre, and to
laugh boyishly when she would fall down.

	It soon became torture. She started to live her
hobby. Her gymnastics were everything, and she would stop at
nothing to win. I've often been frightened of her taking
things to far, even to the point of injury, or death.

	I could never pinpoint the exact moment she turned
that cold, from such a warm, caring individual. I could
never understand why she turned. When she started regarding
me with silence, and wearing a leotard under her school
uniform daily, I left in search of my own resolution.

	It was around that time when I realized the friends
I had, the ones I played with daily. My friends who would
cheer me up when I was sad, and be happy when I was happy
were no longer with me.

	They hadn't left. Not in the physical sense, but
they were gone from me. I had pushed them away after the
death of my mother, when I didn't even realize what I was
doing.

	There was nothing for me any longer. I had to keep
ahold of my sanity for as long as I could.

	And so, Tatchi Kuno, at age fourteen, became
Tatewaki Kuno, rising star of the Kendo world.

	Kendo soon became my life, as Gymnastics had with my
sister. Of course, I had never let it progress so far in my
mind as she had. I could still hold on to some of my sanity.

	I say some. Yes, I know I am not completely sane. No
man is, but I more than others.

	I was sixteen when I met Akane Tendo. It had been my
first year at Furinkan High, and Akane was taking a tour
with students from her Junior High School. I had introduced
myself to her. She seemed disinterested at first, but I kept
on her.

	Akane, I remember how beautiful she was with her
long hair. How it bounced with her as she ran. Her
gracefulness as she fought off the hordes of students
fighting for her affection.

	I realized what I had done. But I believed my
affections for her would overcome that. I was wrong.

	It was soon after my second year at Furinkan, that
he arrived.
 
	The 'demon'. Ranma Saotome. I wish I could have seen
him for what he really was at the beginning, but I was too
blinded. Both by Akane Tendo, and soon later, the pig-tailed
girl.

	I see now what he is though. Ranma Saotome is no
demon. He is an honourable man, willing to fight for what he
believes in.

	And he doesn't like me.

	That isn't completely true, I suppose. I think he
harboured some feelings of friendship. How he helped me when
my sister had stolen my 'album'. When he cheered for me when
Mariko was expressing her affections.

	Had I known he was the pig-tailed girl from the
beginning, a friendship could have been salvaged. But now,
after all I've done to him, it's impossible. There is always
the chance of acquaintances, but no more than that.

	Ranma Saotome sees me as an annoyance.

	As does Akane Tendo.

	They see me as more than that now.

	I look back upon the last few years of my life, and
I feel helpless. There is nothing I can change. When I had
the chance to change something, I did not. Call it fear,
call it insanity rising from the quarries of my soul, but I
gave up the chance. The wishing sword. And all I had to show
for it was a simple date with a MAN.

	It took me a long time to realize it. Ranma Saotome
and the pig-tailed girl were the same person. It happened
shortly after the first failed wedding. After coming home
triumphant from stopping the wedding, I had retired to my
chamber. The next morning, I was dead-set to teach Ranma
Saotome a lesson.

	I was so dead-set, that I brought my katana.

	That day was the worst of my life.

	That was the day of my dishonour. The day that led
up to this one.

	If I had not been so blind to see that I had caused
the wound upon Akane's arm myself, I could have saved
dishonour. Not all of it, but most. For it was what I had
done next that had ruined everything.

	I was blind with rage. I had truly believed in my
heart that Ranma had caused the wound as retaliation for
what had happened the day before.

	I attacked. I attacked with rage and fury as I've
never had before.

	And Ranma was good enough to block, but luck may
smile upon anyone. And it did upon me. The negative luck,
for both parties.

	The sword cut deep into his stomach. It had missed
all major organs, thankfully. He would live, but the scar
would always be there. Weeks after the incident, he would be
as active as he was the day before, with all the
ability plus even more.

	But there was still the scar. The scar *I* had
caused. The sword *I* plunged into him. The dishonour *I*
had brought upon myself.

	And then he had fallen into the pool. He staggered
there, with the blood pouring from him. And then I had seen.
And then I had understood.

	It was after I had confirmation that he would live
that I left, never to see them again.

	And it leads up to this day. The day that I kneel
here, in my family Dojo. My pen in hand, my tanto before me,
and my sister behind.

	And now it happens. Now I save the name of the Kuno
family, and now I take that which should never have existed
in the first place.

	Now is the day that all shall find out. Tatewaki
Kuno never existed. Nor did Tatchi Kuno, the carefree youth.

	The Black Rose may one day find herself in my
position. Who would mediate, I wonder? Perhaps father. No.
He wouldn't. His mind has long since been lost.

	It matters not now.

	I pick up the tanto and ready myself before the
family altar.

	I can hear my sister behind me. Her breathing seems
laboured, but she knows what to do after I've done what must
be.

	I place the tanto to my stomach. I can feel the
tears of helplessness streaming from my eyes. I can feel my
gut clenching in disgust at what is about to happen.

	But there is something else. Butterflies? Am I
nervous to soon be joining the afterdeath? What does it
matter. I strengthen my arms and look towards the altar.

	And in one swift movement, it is done. I can feel
the warmth spreading out against my lower half as it seeps
out from inside of me. I can feel... body parts escaping
from the bloody hole I had made.

	Intestines. I am holding my intestines.

	It doesn't hurt. I cry loudly, but I feel no
physical pain. But I want it to be over. Gods, I want it to
be over. My sister should have finished it by this time.

	I look back briefly. I see my sister, her eyes
streaming with tears. For a brief moment, I could see
Kodachi. Not the Black Rose, but Kodachi. My real sister.
The one that had died years ago.

	She then looked at me, and she said something. I
could hear nothing over the sound of my own heart, but she
said something. Something of meaning.

	And then she clenched the sword, and pulled it up.
She closed her eyes tightly, and then swung in a wide arc.

	Though I could feel the pain as the katana entered
my neck, it didn't matter. It was over. Tatewaki Kuno was no
more, nor had he ever been. The honour of the Kuno family
was saved. For now.

	And I look back upon my life, and I cry. I look back
upon myself, my dead body lying on the floor of my family
Dojo, and I smile. I smile, content in the knowledge that my
dishonour has been repaid. My dishonour would never
again resurface.

	And I look before me, hanging in limbo in the
afterdeath. I see roads to take, and tracks to cover.

	I sit in wait for a resolution that would never
come. For the fates to tell me, 'Tatewaki, you have served
your purpose.' But it won't happen. I know. I know now, and
I knew then.

	I could have different. I could have been a friend.
I could have been an ally. I could have been loved by
someone.

	But now, I sit. Loved by no one. I sit in the dark,
and can do nothing but contemplate.

	I sit for eternity, only wondering what could have
been different.

	But nothing changes.