The insults had meant nothing to him. He'd deserved every last one of them. The mallet blows and physical wounds, though massive, had healed with time.
But it was the looks of surprise, and eventually disgust, on the faces of the Tendo Family; the proud look of gloating on that bastard-Ranma's face; and the tears on Akane's, that had hurt most. His guts writhed with guilt as he recalled it all.
Numbly, he stared down at the spring below him, and drew a long shuddering breath. The grey water lapped softly against the bank at his feet.
Seppuku wasn't good enough for him. This would be a punishment infinitely times worse.
He dropped his rucksack and umbrellain the soft mud and tugged off his boots. And then, with another shuddering sigh, ignoring the distant yells of the Guide, he stepped into the pool.
Ryoma? Ranga? Whatever.
Sorry about the shortness.