Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 belongs to Rumiko Takahashi and various corporate people, etcetera, and they would certainly never produce the following kick-in-a-puppy's-face of a story.
You probably don't want to read this.
Now, having overdosed heavily on fan fiction again, and feeling childishly frustrated with the idea that Shampoo would ever accept Mousse's love for her just because he, after all the years of being a constant nuisance, managed to cheat his way to victory in a marriage duel, I decided to get this out of my system. Please consider this some small and immature part of my past teenage self, risen from last decade to spread immature poison and misery amongst the living.
This fic is way the hell darker than canon, and certainly much darker than anything you'll see in any of my other fics.
When he spotted the slow moving figure making its way through the garden he frowned at first, thinking it couldn't be her. The shadow moved with none of the grace he had come to expect from her. Yet he waited, and with painful slowness she jumped from window sill to tree branch to the tiles of the roof where he waited.
Her arm was in a cast, and he winced, as even in the faint light of the stars he could make out other injuries as well, and the smell of disinfectant.
Two days since the duel. When he had come to the hospital he had been put down by Cologne, and told he must not come and see her. That she would come to him. That she didn't want him to see her in such bright light.
They sat silently for a minute, until he could take it no longer.
"What happens now?" he asked, in a broken voice. He had hardly spoken all day, and his throat was dry from disuse.
"Now I must go," she said. There was a calm to her voice. An eerie calm.
"Will you be alright? I'm sorry it happened this way - if that bastard had been any kind of a man he would-"
"No, Ranma," she said, her voice again silent and calm, yet it cut through his as she lay the hand of her unbroken arm on his shoulder.
So frail it felt through the fabric.
"But you- he cheated, Shampoo!"
He saw a sad smile spread over her lips. "Shampoo always know he would cheat. Is my fault I did not expect this."
"But-!" he protested, and she leaned in, not to kiss him, but to wrap her arm around him in a hug, the cold moist where tears had run down her cheeks pressing against his.
"I want you promise something, okay?"
"Anything," he said, the hole in his chest expanding until tears of his own mingled with hers.
He took a deep breath, for once letting her scent wash over him without pulling back.
"Anything, Shampoo," he repeated.
"You have to promise, Ranma."
She pulled back to meet his eyes.
"You can never visit Nyuchizue, okay?"
"Never visit Nyucheizu, and never ask for Shampoo, okay?"
"You must do this, Ranma." She closed her eyes, and rested her forehead against his. "You must do this for me."
"Why?" he croaked.
"Because it make me sad... Thinking you might come look for me again. Tonight is good bye, Ranma. Tonight must be good bye."
He couldn't speak. There were no words to say.
"Promise," she pleaded.
She moved her hair aside, and leaned in for one final, hesitant kiss, lips wet and salty with tears.
"Bie lao," she whispered.
And then she was gone.
The villagers paused what they were doing as she walked by, silence spreading in her wake. The children she had grown up with. The old. The next generation.
She did not care about them. Her eyes were set on the little house on that hill.
She knocked on the door, and immediately heard someone within moving quickly to the door. It flew open to reveal Mousse, ecstatic to see his bride returned home.
She smiled as she saw how happy he was, one last tear running down her cheek. He enveloped her in a hug, making her wince as he forgot to mind the arm he had broken.
"Mousse," she whispered.
"Yes?" he croaked, tears of happiness streaming from his eyes.
"You must promise me something."
"Anything, Shampoo my wife. Anything."
"You must never love another woman, you hear?"
He leaned back to look her in the eyes, frowning. "Oh Shampoo!" he exclaimed, enveloping her again. "Shampoo! Shampoo!"
"Do you promise?" she persisted.
"Yes, Yes of course I promise! You're the only one I will ever love!"
"Good," she whispered.
This time it was she who leaned back to break the embrace and look him in the eyes. "Never forget me, okay?"
She held the gaze, smiling sadly, as she plunged the dagger into herself.