Title: Figure of a Man Written by: HolyUp Chacha Notes: This won't make sense if you haven't seen past episode 37 of Fushigi Yuugi as you really do need to understand what happened to Takiko when she had been Genbu no Miko. Basically, she served as Genbu no Miko and was then returned to the real world with Genbu still inside her (she hadn't made all three wishes). Okuda Einosuke, her father, ended up murdering Takiko to send Genbu back to his world and to end his daughter's pain when Genbu continued to devour her soul. Disclaimer: Watase Yuu created Okuda Takiko and Okuda Einosuke. I'm just borrowing them for a while. = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = - = Fushigi Yuugi: Figure of a Man //Papa... Papa why?// Takiko gazed down at the grave stone. The earth was newly turned and a bouquet of flowers lay wet with rain before the monument. Her hands clasped against her chest and she hugged herself tightly. She was cold, her flesh prickling with the damp chill around her. She couldn't feel the rain pounding the stones and plots around her. She could hear it, though, the sound drumming deep within her head. //Papa... Papa, I did it for love.// Long, dark brown hair pooled about her shoulders to create a curtain around the girl as she stood staring down at the grave. What did it feel like to lay cold beneath the ground, eyes forever closed to the world above? Was there something beyond this place, this cold, wet earth? Beyond the rain and the ground growing slick with mud? Takiko closed her eyes, tears beading upon her lashes. //Papa... I won't forget him, Papa.// Someone was arriving. Someone was coming to visit the grave of the person laying deep within the ground before her. Takiko stepped back, eyes opening to view the figure of a man. The man looked worn and tired. The aura about him exuded despair and sadness. Takiko ached for him. He was an older man, Takiko saw, but not old. Unhappiness colored the stoop of his shoulders and the shuffle in his step. //Papa... It was the most beautiful gift, Papa. Love.// The older man stopped before the grave and knelt before it. Tears fell freely, rolling down his cheeks to drip into the wet soil below. He made no motions to wipe them away, as though he hadn't noticed them. Perhaps they came that often to him. His trenchcoat dragged in the mud, but he didn't seem to notice. Takiko watched him, her heart beating softly in time with the raindrops falling around them. The man hadn't noticed her presense, his grief seemed so deep. //Papa... I would do it again for them. For him, Papa.// Takiko came forwards, out of the shadows that had grown around her slender frame. She stepped lightly, quietly, towards the man kneeling in the mud. Coming up behind him, she stopped. Her eyes were kind, but full of sadness as she gazed down at the man. She could hear him speaking, words being bound together to create the web of his absolution. Silently, Takiko placed her hand upon the man's shoulder, her touch so light he felt nothing. //Papa... Papa, it hurts so much.// "My darling daughter, forgive me. Know that I love you. Everything I do, is for you. Never again will you feel pain. You are set free of all earthly emotions, knowing only eternal peace and the love of those who will remember you. Sadness, heartache and emptiness can never touch you again, for you have been released of your vow. You are truly free." //Papa... Papa, help me. I don't want it to end this way.// "Papa, darling Papa. I can feel your sadness. I can feel your love for me. I thank you for the release, for the freedom to be born again. I can never leave behind my sadness, for love has bound me to my vows. Not even death can unwind the threads of love that tie me to a greater purpose. My trials in this life have ended and I go on knowing that I am loved, able to fulfill what purpose I must have next. Papa, beloved Papa, I forgive you." //Papa... Papa, I love...// Takiko's hand lifted from the man's shoulder and she once again stepped forwards. Her eyes closed, tears tracking their way down her cheeks in damp patterns. The young woman turned about, now standing upon the grave and before the tombstone, to face the kneeling man. "Goodbye, Papa." The figure of the girl began to fade, even as she stepped forwards to press a cool kiss to the man's forehead. There her lips remained until her body became that of the breeze.