Editor's note: Well, Monsieur Hosmer has done it again. Not only has he helped me with plots innumerable times, but he's also brought a couple of the 'problem characters', those that are mysterious and unexplained, to vivid life with 'Kousei' (Perdita) and 'Ashita no Yume' (Kasumi). Now it's Shampoo's turn, with 'Gisei'. This story was completed in an unbelievably brief span of time, but every second must have been inspired. This story now ties with 'Zannen' in my mind as my favourite tale in the series. Rather than go on, I'll leave the writing to speak for itself. Please send any comments or suggestions to Monsieur Hosmer (his e-mail addy is given in the credits) or myself. He'd love to have your input! -CW [Warning: Contains graphic material.] Editor's note: He's not kidding. -CW -------------------------------------------------------------- / ____ ___ _ ___ / | \ | \ /\ | | /\ /\ | \ / /\ | \ | \ . | \ | |. / \_/ \ | \ \ / \ | __ \ | _ \ | | | | | | | _ \ /\ \/ / | | \ \ | | \ \ .| | | |.| | | | \ \ / \ \ / | | / / | |__\ | | | \| | | |\ /| |.| |__\ |/ /\ \/ | | / / | | | |\ | |.| | | |.| | | |\ / \ | |/ / .| ___ |.| |.| |.| |.| | | | | ___ /\ \/ / | |\ \ | | .| |.| |.| |.| |.| |.| |.| | ./ |\ / | | \ \ .| | | |.| |..\ |.| |.| |.| | | | /| | \ |_|. \__\ |_|. .|_|.|_|...\/..|_|.|_|.|_|.|_|. \|_| \ /\ \ / Created by Christopher Willmore. / \ \ / 4cw6@qlink.queensu.ca / / \/ Based on a story by Rumiko Takahashi and / Developed by C. Michael Schumacher / / [Kensu: cschumac@waun.tdsnet.com] \ / R2096 pages: http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/ \/ (Logo:Armakuni) ============================================================== GISEI "Sacrifice" ============================================================== written by Jeffrey Paul Hosmer -------------------------------------------------------------- I hate Jusenkyo. It surprises people when they hear me say that. Surprises and shocks them. Aren't I the Witch of Jusenkyo? Isn't it my home, my source of power, my haven? And I have to answer yes to all those questions. I still hate Jusenkyo. But tomorrow, it will return my love to me. I will forgive it everything else if it will only do that. I still remember the day I first met him. He was cursed by Jusenkyo into the body of a young girl, but I knew it not. I thought he was just a foolish outlander girl who had to learn to respect Amazon customs. He taught me instead. It was embarrassing, humiliating. I was defeated so easily by the outsider girl. I knew what to do. I gave the girl the Kiss of Death. She ran away and I followed her back to Japan. And there I met her as him. What can I say about that meeting, after all these years? I know what the others thought of me. They thought I was a stupid fool, following some outdated laws. They didn't think I understood them, but I did. It wasn't the law. It wasn't the fact that he beat me. It was no less embarrassing to me when my love defeated me in combat than anyone else. It was the connection I felt. I had sensed it even back in China, when he was a girl, but it was even stronger when he was a man. When our eyes met, I felt it. When I touched him, it practically screamed. Our destinies were linked. But he didn't love me. Mousse once told me that an outlander had written "the truth shall set you free." This truth did nothing of the sort. I knew in my heart that he didn't love me. I know that on the day he died that his last thoughts were of her. My rival. A weak, tomboyish girl who couldn't cook. She was cute, but I was more beautiful. All the advantages were mine. Yet she still won his heart. Without even trying, she won it. Abusing him, she won it. How? I couldn't even kill her for it. I can't kill people. I found that out when hunting my love. Something stops me before the final blow lands. I never told Great-Grandmother, but she knew. If not at the beginning, she knew at the end. It was all that saved her from me. But as for my rival, Akane, I couldn't kill her for an even more important reason. He loved her. My other rival, in both restaurants and love, knew this too. We both denied it, and we both knew it. It drove her mad in the end, after he died. I was mad for a time, too. But I'm perfectly sane now. He was the center of our lives, the heart of our pattern. We revolved around him. When he died, the pattern broke apart. I can see it now, with my witch's sight. The pattern is broken and frayed, but the links still exist. I don't know how it can still exist with so many people dead and gone, but it is there. It is waiting for him. That is how I know I will succeed. And this time, I will fill Akane's place in the pattern, if I can. But if not, I will still have discharged my debt to him. He died because of Great-Grandmother. Not directly, but it is still her fault and my shame. Great- Grandmother never did anything directly. She had supplemented her fighting skills with magicks, knowledge and cunning. When I was little, she was everything I wanted to be. Now she is everything I loathe. Despite that, I am turning into her. Because of her, I have mastered magic. I have learned things I would rather forget. And I am three inches shorter than I once was. As I grow older, my body is slowly changing, growing more efficient, requiring less food and sleep. In another hundred and fifty years, I will resemble a small, withered mummy, just like her. The thought horrifies me, and not just because of vanity. I dream that I wake up and look in the mirror and see her sightless, grinning face staring at me. And then I realize it's my own face. I have broken a lot of mirrors. Tomorrow, I will cast the spell. He will return to life, I know. It is not a perfect spell, but Jusenkyo only allows me to do so much. Considering the terrible cost I paid, it seems a poor recompense. But to look into his eyes, to see HIM looking back at me, I would do almost anything. When I was mad, I tried dunking animals into the spring that housed his soul. It didn't work. They were still animals in mind. To see his body, still young and vibrant, as handsome as I remember, yet with no mind behind those eyes.... I killed his body. My hands, already red with the blood of my kin, snapped his neck more times than I care to remember. Afterwards, I would just sit by the spring, cradling the slowly dying body for hours. Eventually, Mousse would come and take me home. I never asked him what he did with the corpses. I don't want to know. Later, he got a small force field generator from Nabiki, a prototype, that he used to seal off the spring. Blood turns black on a force field, did you know? I found that out when I bashed a squirrel's head in, trying to force it through the shield. I stopped trying after that. It was hard on us, those first few years. The Amazons would not accept my reasons for attacking Great-Grandmother. I didn't care. I was still mad with grief. If I had been sane, perhaps I could have kept my place in the tribe. But I wasn't, so I didn't. They didn't care what Mousse did. He was just a man, after all. He followed me. If he was surprised that I went to Jusenkyo, he gave no sign. Patiently, and for many years, he took care of me. I remember him feeding me when I refused to eat, making sure I was dressed properly, combing my hair. He cared more for my appearance than I did. He spoke to me, constantly. That is probably what let me regain my sanity. His soft, gentle voice was a lifeline I clutched at. He never took advantage of me, even when I was so catatonic I couldn't even bathe myself. I am ashamed by his love. If I could only have returned it, then perhaps things would have been all right. But I couldn't return it. Mousse was like a brother to me. I told him as much, once. He smiled in that sad way of his and I couldn't meet his gaze. It was he that helped me find my purpose. Even though it drove him away from me, made me drive him away, I think--I hope--that he was content, knowing I was sane. He told me what Great-Grandmother had done. I have no honor left. My honor is my family's honor is my tribe's honor. If one of us is dishonorable, the greater part casts us out. If a person is dishonorable, the family casts her out. If a family is dishonorable, then the tribe casts it out. Great-Grandmother cast aside our family honor. When I was born, Mousse tells me, my Great-Grandmother cast certain magicks. She sought the shape of my destiny with the tribe. She saw that if I married a strong man, then the tribe would grow strong. If I never married, the tribe would wither and die. I never married. The tribe is gone now, except for a few. The young ones all left for the promises of the city, of modern life. All that is left is the elders, like myself, who cling to the old ways. They will all die soon, and then the Joketsuzoku will be no more. I have not been to the village in decades, but Mousse's family visits me occasionally. They have told me what happened. I know it is my family's fault. Great-Grandmother was determined to have me marry the strongest man she could find. She trained me night and day, almost from as soon as I could walk. I was not even supposed to talk to a boy, unless he could defeat me in combat. Mousse was the sole exception, and that was only because he wouldn't go away. He was my best friend. Great-Grandmother caught me kissing him once. It was my first kiss, and his, too. I didn't mean anything by it, but I was curious. He was only too happy to help. It was clumsy, it was nervous, it made us both laugh. And then Great-Grandmother nearly broke open his skull with her staff. His eyesight started getting really bad after that, but he never blamed me. I blame myself enough for both of us. I tried to drive him away, to keep him from getting hurt, but on that one thing, he never listened to me. I had to harden my soul against seeing him in pain, because I could not go against my Great-Grandmother. I kept hoping he would leave, so he wouldn't be hurt any more, but secretly I was relieved that he stayed, and wouldn't leave me alone. I am so alone now. Great-Grandmother was always testing me and my love's strength. Sometimes, like with the Cat's Tongue Pressure Point, she was obvious about. Sometimes she was subtle. My love died without even knowing it was her fault. Akane died blaming her tool. Ukyou went mad, but even she thought it was over. It isn't. Great-Grandmother let the old pervert have a scroll of summoning. She knew many secrets of Jusenkyo, including the identity of the girl who had drowned to provide my love's curse. She also knew of a powerful spirit who had loved that girl in life. She merely waited until the proper moment to use that knowledge. Kasumi told us. The news traveled slowly. The pattern was breaking and we were all stunned by it, some so much that we couldn't function. Poor Kasumi. She was outside our pattern, outside of all patterns, really, save those she made herself. It did not save her from being dragged into my family's plans. Mousse told me how she died, by 'accident.' It was no accident. It was the curse. She came to us and told us, before she broke down sobbing, that my love was dead. I was waitressing at the time. I dropped my plates. It was the first time I had ever done that. I remember looking down at the mess and thinking I would have to clean it up. The thought of my love, dead, didn't really penetrate. I got down on my knees and began to clean up the mess, ignoring Kasumi. She slapped me. I can still remember the sting of her palm on my cheek. She dragged me up off of my knees and slapped me. Kasumi slapping someone? Unheard of. She dragged me up off my knees. I was babbling about cleaning. I don't recall. She slapped me. My love was dead. My world was over. Great-Grandmother said, "Oh well, there are other potential son-in- laws." I didn't go mad then. I want this understood above all else. I was not mad when I did it. I don't think I was mad. I know when I was mad. There are whole periods of my life that I can't recall. Mousse. Mousse was there, I know. He was always by my side. He told me later that ten years passed while I was mad. I only remember a few summers, a snowfall. Jusenkyo. I remember Jusenkyo. I remember the blood turning black on a force field. I remember His body, the eyes windows to an animal's soul. I remember the cracking sound his neck made all those times. I remember each time, but I can't count them. I remember my hands, flying at her face. She was surprised. She was afraid. I could see it in her eyes. Those eyes did not see the world. They dissected it, they measured it, they analyzed it. They devoured it. The hard part was digging my fingers into the sockets without damaging the eyes. Her training served me well there. I did it fast, so fast she would have been proud, if she could have seen it. It was pluck and then *pop* out they came. Little nerves trailed back into the sockets. I pulled them out slowly now, curious. How long would they stretch? An inch? Two? Could she still see me? Someone was screaming. I think it was her. I had never heard her scream before. It was shriller than I thought it would be. I could still see the fear in her eyes. The nerves snapped. I didn't get a good measure of how long they stretched. Something to remember next time. She was still screaming, I noted, but I didn't care. I was looking at the eyes. They were quite pretty. Blue, the color of the sky. His were gray, the color of a storm. He was a force of nature, like a storm. What did the blue mean? I sat there, staring into them. She wouldn't stop screaming. I wondered why. Was there something in her eyes? She had her hands clutched to her face. Oh, right. I had forgotten. Silly me. The eyes were looking at me. Mousse had been there. He watched and heard it all. What a sight we must have made. The blinded Amazon matriarch, screaming and clutching the eyeless sockets and the young Amazon warrior, her hands covered in blood, staring into the eyeballs in her hand. They were looking at me. Free of their owner and master, they studied me. Cold, analytical, devouring eyes. They were LOOKING at me. Stop looking at me! I can see them, judging me still. I am a failure in her eyes. Under her stare, I was powerless. THEY WERE LOOKING AT ME! So I devoured them. They tasted awful. I don't remember anything of Japan after that. I remember the village. Mousse took me back there. My Great-Grandmother stayed in Japan. I didn't know why, then. Mousse told me later that Akane had killed herself, after killing the old pervert. I was happy for her. That was a warrior's death. I knew why she had killed herself. To be with him. I couldn't do the same. I was too afraid. The village denounced me. I had laid hands on the Matriarch of my family. I had blinded her, deliberately. I was not repentant. I was cast out. They were right. I had done all that. I had gone against our... their most sacred laws. I was without honor. Later, I learned that Mousse told them what my Great-Grandmother had done, hoping they would forgive me. They disowned my family, instead. I was honorless, without family or tribe. What would happen to my soul on death? I couldn't even be sure that I could be with him. His soul was at Jusenkyo. So I went to Jusenkyo. The next decade or so is a blur of half-memories. Mousse was always there for me, except when he went to the village for supplies. He had worked out an arrangement with the new head of the village trading post, a young girl named Antibacterial Liquid Hand Soap. Even I could tell from his descriptions of her that she loved him. Mousse always was blind. Mousse would always speak with me, even though I rarely answered. We went on like that for years, until he said something that cut through my madness. "If only Cologne hadn't given Happousai that scroll." He was muttering to himself, not intending me to hear, but I had become very attuned to his voice. The words shot straight to my heart. I grabbed him and told him to explain what he meant. The Tendos had given him Happousai's possessions before we left Japan. He showed me the scroll that had summoned the vengeful spirit. It was in Great-Grandmother's handwriting, obviously copied from some older scroll to preserve the contents. She had used simple kanji and wrote them large, so even someone like Happousai couldn't mix them up. My family had killed my love. I almost fled back into madness then. It would have been easy. But it was not what my love would have done. Before, I had wallowed in my own, personal disgrace. This was different. My family had deliberately hurt another family. I owed a debt of honor. I could not ignore it. I could not avoid it. I could not fulfill it. There was a letter, a letter that Mousse had not wanted to show me. It was from Great-Grandmother. She had written it carefully, trusting her hands to form the characters she could not see. She warned me that as my choice had sealed the fate of the Amazons, so did it seal the fate of the Tendos, the Saotomes, and all of Japan. Her curse. I knew her power. I could not face her there again. But my love was here. I could fight her here. How? I found the answer. There was an old woman living near Jusenkyo. It was said that she was once an Amazon, before being cast out, her name forgotten. She was the Witch of Jusenkyo then. She would have the answers I needed. But first, I waited and built up my strength. Ten years of madness had caused my strength and coordination to wither away. I had to regain it. Mousse stood by me, helped me, trained with me. But I went to the Witch alone. She did not wish to train me. I explained my circumstances. She ignored me. I told her about my love. She refused to listen. I told her about Great-Grandmother. She listened. Great-Grandmother had played a role in casting the Witch out of the Amazon Tribe. For vengeance, she was willing to teach me. She told me right away, however, that she did not know of a way to bring my love back to life. I would have to find my own way. I would have to pay my own price. Jusenkyo, she told me, always demands a price of those who would try to learn its secrets. It was always something near and dear to the seeker's heart. I told her I understood and that I had to do two things before I could study under her. I left her there and went back to Mousse. Oh, spirits, what a fool I was. I owed my love, but I also owed Mousse. Between us was something stronger than friendship, even if it was not the love he sought. I could not give him my heart. So I gave him my body. It shames me to write this, and I regret it every day, but I could not give him my virginity. He never knew, I think. I could be a good actor, when I needed to be, and he was as new to this as I. He had kept himself pure for me. I, on the other hand, took a small animal to Jusenkyo. Sane, the force field was easy to turn off. He was as handsome as ever, and the body knew what to do. It was wonderful. I hated myself. I wish I knew what Mousse had done with the corpses. I had to settle for weighing the animal down with stones and leaving it in the spring. Mousse didn't want my gift. We argued about it for two weeks. For once, I out-stubborned him. Every night I offered myself to him, naked, tempting him, telling him that if he accepted, he would have to leave. He resisted me for two weeks, nearly killing himself in the process. I almost gave in to him then. We could, I think, have found some happiness together. No. I am only trying to fool myself. Mousse gave in on the fifteenth day. It was wonderful. I hated myself. Mousse left the next day, with many a backward glance. Nine months later, he had his revenge, however. I named her Akane. I began studying under the Witch, sure that Jusenkyo could take nothing more from me than it already had. Then Akane came. The Witch helped me with the birth. I did not want to tell Mousse. I did not want him to put himself at risk. For hours, I suffered, pushing and breathing, downing concoctions the Witch brewed to aid the delivery. Pain. Breathe. Push. Pain. Breathe. Push. Tear. Fulfillment. I cannot describe how I felt when Akane was put in my arms. She was so tiny and perfect. Dark hair already covered her head and she reminded me so much of the tomboy. She was uncoordinated, screaming angrily, and hitting anything near her. Except when I held her. She was so beautiful. My life settled into a routine. Chores, learning, taking care of Akane. The Witch often tried to get me to give up, go back to Mousse, raise my child. I kept refusing. When Mousse visited, I hid Akane from him. He would never suspect the truth. Years passed. Mousse married Antibacterial Liquid Hand Soap and they had children of their own. My knowledge of magic grew, as did Akane. I kept her hair cut short, like the tomboy, and she looked a bit like her. When she didn't remind me of Mousse. She was a loving child. She even melted the heart of the old Witch, who could refuse Akane nothing. I taught her to hunt when she was old enough, and how to fight. She was very smart, and I wished I could send her to school. I put off the decision, however, thinking there would be time, later. I would tell Mousse that she had wandered into Jusenkyo, an orphan, and have him see to her education. Would he have seen through the lie? Even after she became a teen, I kept her close. She was so innocent and gentle, so prone to see the beauties of life. When we watched a sunset, she could always see more colors, more beauty than I. How could I have made something so perfect? But from day one, I told her to never, never play among the springs. One day, when she was 16 years old, she didn't come home for dinner. She was at the springs. I don't want to write any more about this. The Witch had nodded sadly when I told her about Akane, explaining that Jusenkyo had demanded a similar price of her, once. I broke a lot of things. Years passed. I learned more and more about Jusenkyo. The Witch died one winter, of pneumonia. I tried to tend her, but one night, while I was asleep, she got up and, in a delirium, stumbled out to Jusenkyo. She drowned. At least I think it was the result of delirium. When I am about to die, will I find myself back here? Is that the final price of Jusenkyo? I don't know. Last week, I completed the spell. It is now almost a century since my love died. I thought of waiting for the exact day, but I cannot. I will have my love back. I will see HIM in those eyes. Then, I will be happy. The spell is not perfect. He will have to share his body with another. There is no way around that, save the annihilation of the host's spirit before casting the spell. I can't kill. If I could, would I for him? No. He would not want that. I am writing this the day before I attempt the spell. I am an empty shell. Everything I once was, I lost or gave up. My Amazon heritage, my brother Mousse, my sanity, my... daughter. My love... Ranma must never know. If those eyes were to look at me in pity, or loathing, I could not bear it. If he knew the depth of my dishonor, of my family's dishonor, he would flee my presence. If he did that, I would... What? I could kill him. I know how to do it. Wrap my hands around that perfect throat, feel the pulse thrumming against my palms as I squeeze. A snap, then the body sags. No. I can't kill a person. I am such a weakling. He must never know. For him, I will be the old Shampoo. I will speak as I did in those days, I will act as I did in those days. Spirits of Jusenkyo, let him see nothing of the real Shampoo, the Shampoo described in these pages. If he knew, I would die. I know how to do that too. I hate Jusenkyo. Author's Note: Gah, am I glad this is done. When I first got the idea for this story, I never envisioned that it would turn out like this. But then, just recently, it was like the Shampoo of 2096 was whispering in my ear, telling me her story. A story that I didn't like to hear. So, like her, I wrote it out. It only took two days. Like 'Lies' this story came from somewhere dark in my soul. I hope you enjoyed it, and that you can sleep at night after reading it. Oh, and as to the name. "Gisei" means "sacrifice" but it can also mean "to victimize." Take whichever meaning you prefer for Shampoo. Jeff Hosmer 24 April 1997 ______________________________________________________________ Christopher Willmore 4cw6@qlink.queensu.ca http://qlink.queensu.ca/~4cw6/2096a.htm Impius Ecclesia Ukya * Interfector Beluam Ecclesia Ryougis * Custos Tabula Nomina Franca Ecclesia Azusis *