Training
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"Hey old man"
Katsuhito, who was sifting through the shrines financial records, grunted in reply as Ryoko sauntered into his office, her hand on her hip. Sighing and plopping down in front of him, she rested her elbows on his table and let her head drop onto her hands. Looking completely bored out of her mind, she picked up a half empty tea cup and drained it in one gulp, looking just as bored and dissatisfied when she finished.
"Don't you have anything decent to drink?" She asked, turning the small cup with her fingers. Staring into the cup, she frowned at the soggy tea leaves. Tea. Water. What did it matter to her? She couldn't tell the difference. If there was one thing she really hated about herself, it was her lack of taste. Curling a hand around her small belly, she signed with discontent. At least she got something from liquor… a buzz... a warm sensation. She loved the way some drinks burned down her throat, giving her proof that she was actually drinking something.
"There's a small store down the road that sells sake," Katsuhito said as he poured over the donation cards. "I'll have Tenchi show you—'
There was a loud crash as Ryoko smashed her teacup into the table; shards and tealeaves scattered over his papers. Katsuhito raised an eyebrow and shook the documents free of debris.
"Something you want to tell me?" he asked, his eyes returning to his work as if nothing had happened.
Ryoko muttered darkly, and folding her arms.
Silence laced the air for a long moment, broken only be the occasional sound of Katsuhito shifting his papers and scratching down a few notes. Ryoko just sat there, her head in her hands as she tried to clear her tired mind. But it wasn't that easy. As her eyes drifted over the streams and warriors of the Japanese paintings on the wall, her mind traveled elsewhere.
In her head she saw herself in Tenchi's arms, and the wonderful sensation that accompanied it was sickeningly acute. She could feel his hands on her hip, urging her closer, and she shuddered as she remembered the delightful way he'd sucked on her lower lip. Running her fingers over her lips, she couldn't help but remember the feeling of complete surrender she'd felt in his arms, and god she hated it. It was like all the air was being sucked out of her. She couldn't breath and she hated herself for feeling that way—but she couldn't fucking help it and it was killing her. At that moment, more than anything else, she'd wanted to just fall into him—to run in his blood and pulse with his heart. It was nothing she'd ever felt before… this need for another… And at the same time it confused and repulsed her, she couldn't resist the lure. She hated him—she loved him. She wished him dead—she wished him eternal. She didn't know what she wanted, but for now she just wanted to stay the hell away from him. Anyone who made her question herself like this was not someone she wanted to be around.
…no matter how good he fucking smelled, tasted, felt—oh god—she was pathetic.
Groaning and hating herself more than ever, she lowered her head to the table and let her fingers loose themselves in her thick hair.
What was happening to her? Who was she becoming?
She felt like she was drowning herself, standing over herself as she faded away into darkness. She wanted a drink. She wanted that sweet silver or amber liquid flowing down her throat, making her forget everything. She wanted to drown it all, wash it out of her body. Kill part of her that longed for his touch—that shuddered with pleasure every time he said her name. What was it about him that called to her… made her desire him so much? He sure as fuck wasn't the handsomest man she'd every met, and every time he smiled that uncertain smile and his hand reached for the back of his head, she felt the urge to just reach over and break his arm.
What was it about him?
Inside, a cold part of her laughed. To think… this is what becomes of the infamous space pirate. Scrambling on her hands and knees after some farm boy. God, karma was a fucking bitch.
Shaking her head clear of those thoughts, she sighed and let her eyes drift over Katsuhito, who was still diligently going over his papers. Glancing around, her eyes took in the humble futon rolled up in the corner, and the general emptiness of the rooms. Supplied with the basic necessities of life, Katsuhito had sure come a long way from the little man she once knew as Yosho. She looked at his leathery hands and wondered why?
He could be living in riches right with servants and a beautiful princess at his fingertips. With a snap of his fingers, he had the power to make entire empires shudder with fear and respect. It was a bit odd that the heir to most powerful family in the universe was sitting before her in a humble shrine doing paper work. And even though Ryoko's memory spanned thousands of years, she still remembered a certain dark-haired bastard who she'd clashed swords with on more than one occasion. What happened to that insolent little brat she knew who used to walk around with his head held high and his mind on his dick?
Leaning up, she picked over a few tea leaves, trying to look as disinterested as possible.
"Old man, why did you do this…" Ryoko tried not to notice how loud her voice sounded as it broke the long silence. "After… after you pulled that bitch move and sealed me away in the cave, why didn't you just go back to Jurai?"
Katsuhito paused, his eyes unfocused on the words before him.
"I had my reasons," he said, shifting his paper work off to the side and rising from his desk. Tucking his arms inside the sleeves of his kimono shirt, he padded his way to the other side of the room and stood in front of a collection of wooden swords. Gleaming in the sunlight, he moved his hand over their glossy surfaces, a small sense of pride flowing through him.
"Do you know much about swords, Ryoko?"
"Not really, but I can hold my own in a fight," Ryoko replied, her brow furled in irritation at Katsuhito's obvious attempt to blow her off. She wanted an answer to her question. What did she care about a bunch of wooden swords?
"This is a bokuto," Katsuhito said as he bent over, picking up a wooden sword and letting it rest against his hands. "This one in particular is made out of the highest quality hickory making it very flexible and almost impossible to break."
Ryoko blinked in surprise when Katsuhito suddenly tossed her the sword. Catching it with ease, she stood, her hands testing its weight. It was heavier than she thought, but it was nothing she couldn't handle.
"So what…?" she said, cocking her hip and holding the sword loosely at her side.
"How does a bout sound to you?" Katsuhito said, snatching up another bokuto as he walked outside. Ryoko blinked in surprise.
"You're kidding, right?" She asked as she followed him out.
"Nope." Katsuhito stood confident, and although he wasn't smiling, Ryoko saw a certain glint in his eyes.
Ryoko laughed uneasily as Katsuhito took a defensive stance.
"But you're an old man now; I'm just gonna kick your ass," She said, raising the sword and letting it rest casually against her shoulder. But any argument she could have made was instantly gone as Katsuhito suddenly lunged, his sword arching up and coming down straight for her skull. Ryoko reacted automatically, moving her sword in front of her, and cringing as Katsuhito brought his sword against her with a piercing crack! Shock went through her as Ryoko realized that she was actually struggling to maintain her grip. Just how strong was this old man anyway?
"No powers!"
Ryoko glanced up, stunned, as Katsuhito bared down on her.
"What the hell—?" Ryoko yelled, cursing as her foot slid against the rubble and she was forced to dart out of the way.
"No powers; we're fighting on skill alone," Katsuhito bent down and charged again, his eyes focused and confident.
Ryoko braced herself and readied her sword. Swinging the bokuto at a wide angle, she managed to deflect Katsuhito's blows, but he was very fast. As soon as she knocked one strike away, he would change his position and attacked at another angle. Too busy defending herself to find an opening for her own attack, Ryoko growled in aggravation as she fought the urge to take to the sky. There at least she would have a moment to think—to come up with a plan. But Katsuhito wasn't giving her a moment's peace. On and on, he continued, raining blows, each as powerful as the first.
'How the hell is he doing this?'
Ryoko's mind raced as she dodged another jab. Taking a few steps backward, her breath stopped—there was an opening! That last jab had cost him, and by the time he jerked back, Ryoko knew she would have already claimed victory. Pulling her sword close, she lunged forward, her foot slamming into the ground as her sword sliced through the air. For a moment, it was as if the world had shuddered to a deafening stop and time seemed to shrink to a sluggish pace. Ryoko could see Katsuhito start to lean back in a last ditch effort to avoid her hit, but Ryoko knew he wouldn't make it. A slow smile played over her lips—she was going to win! But then something happened that she didn't expect. Instead of leaning to the side, Katsuhito suddenly ducked and Ryoko's sword whipped over his head—missing him completely. If she could just move with him she could— but too late.
Ryoko sucked in a sharp breath as she felt the tip of his sword brush against the base of her neck.
She'd lost.
Growling in frustration, she drew in a deep breath, held it, and hurled her sword so hard it impaled a nearby tree and sent a shower of leaves raining down onto the ground. Smashing her lips into a thin line, she pulsed with rage, the hair on her back of her neck rising up.
"How did you do that." She demanded, rather than asked, through her clenched teeth, her hands screwed into tight fists.
"The same way I did last time," Katsuhito said as he slowly rose to his full height, a hand going up and massaging the tension from his shoulder. "If you have one flaw, Ryoko, it's that you rely too much on your powers to win. It takes skill and discipline to really master something as fine as the sword. And you have the nasty habit of letting your emotions get the best of you."
A slew of curse words flashed through Ryoko's mind as she fought to keep her mouth shut. Although deep down she knew he was right, it still didn't make it any easier for her to hear it so bluntly.
Katsuhito walked silently over to the tree where Ryoko's sword jutted out from the belly of the trunk. With a firm jerk, he freed the blade and tossed it back to Ryoko.
"Discipline. Self-control. That is what it takes to win, Ryoko. Now—' Katsuhito balanced his weight on the balls of his feet and lowered into a defensive stance. Raising his hand he beckoned Ryoko to attack. Ryoko scoffed but tightened her grip on her sword. Though her palms were slick with sweat, she showed no outward sign of nervousness and charged forward with a loud cry.
Around them, the leaves blew in torrents above their heads as the clashing sound of their swords echoed though the woods.
XxxX
Tenchi sighed as he made his way up the worn shrine steps. Digging his hands into his pockets, he shivered as a frigid wind blew against his back and rattled the leaves above him. He sighed with dismay as he noticed the curled leaves littering the steps. Another day of sweeping… Tucked under his arm, the broken bokuto swayed with his steps and as Tenchi ascended higher into the mountain, a distinct sound echoed down from above. Recognizing it immediately, Tenchi's brow furled in confusion. Who was Grandpa fighting with?
Tenchi lengthened his stride as the sound became sharper and more forceful. Reaching to his side, he grabbed the broken bokuto. With one piece in each hand, he launched into an all out run, skipping three steps at a time. He tightened his grip as he saw the last of the stairs drifting closer. Holding his breath, Tenchi prayed that everything was all right and burst through the trees.
Ryoko barely had time to react before she found herself ducking to avoid Tenchi's strike. As Tenchi's eyes widened in surprise, Ryoko seized her opportunity, pulling back her sword and slamming it right into Tenchi's stomach. As Tenchi sank to the ground, doubled over in pain, Ryoko drew in haggard breath and flipped him over, her bare foot pushing down against his chest. Through a cloud of pain, Tenchi managed to make out Ryoko's fierce eyes beating down on him with a venomous glare.
"Ryoko!"
Glaring at Katsuhito for his interruption, Ryoko nonetheless removed her foot, narrowing her eyes at Tenchi as he gasped for air. Pushing off from the ground, Ryoko floated in midair, crossing her legs and folding her arms over her large kimono sleeves. Gripping the area where her sword hit, Tenchi groaned loudly and fought against the urge to throw up. His face flushed red and sweat began to drip from face as his vision blurred.
Through the tears he refused to let fall, Tenchi could see Ryoko's face—scoffing and waiting for him to fail. Wanting him to fail…
Years of training tightened his muscles and with great effort, Tenchi pushed his body from the ground. Though still hunched over in pain, a small sense of victory came over him as Ryoko averted her gaze. Very slowly, he ambled his way to his Grandfather and presented him with the two remaining pieces of his bokuto.
Acknowledging Tenchi with a nod, Katsuhito walked into the shrine office as Tenchi followed slowly. As he passed Ryoko, he tried to meet her gaze. His eyes burned into her back as she pretended to be interested in a nearby tree. Knowing that her stubbornness would never allow her to glance his way, Tenchi resigned himself to give up for now and he wandered into the shrine.
"I had no idea we still had those miko outfits," Tenchi said, easing down onto a worn cushion, his hand curled over his stomach.
Katsuhito didn't respond as he tossed the broken pieces aside and glanced over his collection.
"Strange… it really suits her…" Tenchi smiled weakly as he leaned to look out the door. From where he was sitting, Tenchi had a decent view of Ryoko's side as she floated aimlessly through the air, her eyes to the sky. The white kimono sleeves drooped down, making her hands appear elegant and more delicate than they really were. And, though she wore it a bit incorrectly, Tenchi sort of liked the way the back swooped down, revealing her slender neck. As Katsuhito sorted through the swords, looking for a stronger make, Tenchi let his mind wonder, his eyes remaining transfixed on Ryoko even as she refused to acknowledge him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Tenchi felt his face begin to burn where Washu struck him. She was a lot stronger than she looked.
"I don't know what's gotten into you, Tenchi-dono, but you are not helping!"
Washu crossed her arms, her mind racing as Tenchi remained perfectly silent. Anger coiled in her stomach, hot and ready to lash out at a moment's notice. She waited for him to say something—anything—that would give her an excuse, but Tenchi didn't say a word. His eyes stayed lowered and he made no move to comfort his red cheek. Washu sighed, disgusted.
"Leave…"
Without betraying one sign of his feelings, Tenchi bowed and walked out of Washu's lab, leaving her alone in the flickering, artificial light.
"She doesn't think so…"
Tenchi jumped slightly, startled as his grandfather sat down beside him, a new bokuto in his hand.
"What do you mean?" Tenchi asked, gratefully taking the sword and setting it aside.
"Ryoko… She doesn't think the uniform suits her at all. The large sleeves hinder her movements and often get in her way."
Tenchi sighed, remembering the time she'd ripped the sleeves off his mother's kimono. Maybe his grandfather was right. Ryoko was the sort of person who loved her freedom. Her clothes were loose where she wanted them, but not too loose. Tight leggings with a flirtatious flair on the sleeves were her style. She was a woman with wings; a woman who could never be satisfied in one place. All at once, Tenchi felt as though a great stone had been placed over his chest. He felt as if he were trapped in a hall of doors and every time he tried a door it was always locked. Lost opportunities haunted him and tore at his heart.
As he watched Ryoko gaze into the sky, he couldn't help but wonder what she would be doing right now if they'd never met. If he had never released her from the cave, what would happen? Was life possible without her? Could he have gone day after day in complete ignorance of her as she wasted away in her cold prison, waiting for him to set her free?
Tenchi felt a wave of shame come over him as he remembered the many times he'd wished for a normal life—of all the times he'd ever pushed Ryoko away. He remembered the first time he ever set eyes on her... when she pulled herself from the cold waters of the cave, the roots of the trees above curling over her rotting body. More frightening than the pictures his grandfather's stories portrayed, she moaned and stroked his face, her eyes shadowed behind her mask. Tenchi felt his insides disappear as he looked at the face of the demon that had fascinated his childhood dreams. Fear propelled his body as he ran, his hand clinging to the Tenchi-ken as he fled from the cave.
The glowing eyes of the demon haunted him on through the next day. Though he had successfully resealed the entrance to cavern, Tenchi couldn't shake the suspicion that he hadn't seen the last of that demon. Easing into a troubled sleep, his mind turned over the images of the demon's glowing eyes and that high-pitched laughter that floated up from its deformed body.
When Tenchi awoke, the sun had already set and he felt the familiar chill of night prick at his arms. Too preoccupied with worries about school work, he didn't immediately notice the small jingle that echoed in the school yard. Suddenly, the jingle became louder and Tenchi jumped when a saw a small black animal run from the fence. He sighed with relief when he realized it was only his cat. A bit surprised that she would follow him so far, Tenchi nonetheless leaned down to pick her up. Still, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next and he felt eyes widened as the cat, which had been running towards him, suddenly faded away. With that, Tenchi's mind crashed to a sudden halt as the reality he'd once lived in came crumbling down.
When Tenchi first met the woman he came to know as Ryoko, he knew one thing for certain: she was fucking crazy. Loud and with no sense of personal boundaries, Ryoko literally exploded into his world. A bit put off by her brash nature, Tenchi welcomed the more polite Ayeka; though even she proved to be a bit extreme when provoked. One by one they arrived. Sasami came with Ayeka, and Tenchi had never felt such gratitude towards a child with such skill at cooking. Soon Mihoshi came falling into his arms, and though she was a bit off at times, even Tenchi had to admire all the pride she put into her work. No matter how many times her superiors yelled or how many times she faced demotion, Mihoshi just smiled and promised to do her best. Washu—
Washu…
Tenchi stopped as he remembered the cheeky scientist—her ageless eyes—her small mouth—the tiny hands that seemed just a bit too small.
"I… I had a baby once…"
"I'd rather remain a child—never—ever—growing up!"
"You're not helping!"
Tenchi sighed, and pushed up from the table. Pain shot through his stomach, but Tenchi swallowed any groan that tempted to swell up. Leaning against the door frame for support, Tenchi watched as Ryoko and his grandfather once again took up their bokuto and fought. He gave a defeated smile when he realized that his grandfather was right; the cut and flow of a miko's costume didn't suit her. Tenchi couldn't help feel a bit dejected as Ryoko shouted curses while she fought both his grandfather and the enormous kimono sleeves. He had wanted it to suit her; the flowing red and white fabrics really complimented her figure, and he couldn't resist picturing himself in his own shrine clothes, standing next to her. It would be perfect. Just her and him together… maybe they'd take over the shrine after Grandpa retired. After all his complaining about shrine work, and all the times he told his friends that he was wasting away in that mountain, being there with Ryoko seemed all too ideal.
But…
Ryoko yelled as she ripped the sleeves from the kimono; smirking, she snatched up her sword and charged at Kastuhito. Tenchi noticed the immediate improvement in her technique. Sighing softly, he moved back into the shrine office, sliding the door closed behind him.
XxxX
Mihoshi sighed as she tried to piece together just exactly what her Captain was trying to say.
"So you're saying that you've had enough me…?"
"Yes."
"That because I've caused you so many problems, you've been forced to seek professional help?
"Yes."
"And that, because that's not doing any good, you're going to hang yourself?"
"Yes."
"…And you wanted me to be the first to know?"
"That about sums it up."
Mihoshi pondered this information for a moment as her immediate superior busied himself with making a noose from nearby cable.
"Well that doesn't make any sense at all."
The Captain opened his mouth to say something, but changed his mind as he searched for a steady beam. A pile of bills and unfinished reports littered his desk, but with one shove, they toppled to the floor. Mihoshi was about to protest but stopped when the Captain raised his hand to silence her, his face strangely blank as he scrambled atop his desk. Tying the cable securely to a beam, he gave it a firm jerk and was very satisfied with it. Stretching it so it would be big enough to loop over his head, he sighed and glanced with disdain at the many medals and service awards he had acquired over the years. Worthless. Pulling the loop over his head, he readied himself to jump.
Suddenly the door burst open and a secretary darted inside. Handing him his papers, she acted surprisingly calm, as though seeing her boss attempt suicide was the norm for her. Sighing he reached down and decided to read one last memo before he ended it all.
From where Mihoshi stood, she watched as the Captain's face went from blank, to confusion, to shock, to complete awe. Jerking the loop from his head, he scuttled off his desk and straightened his suit. Waving the memo like a victory flag, he smiled broadly as he ran into the hallways, whistling cheerfully as he greeted every person he met with tears in his eyes and new-found zeal.
"What was that about?" Mihoshi asked, turning her head to the secretary, who was busy gathering the Captain's paper work.
"Headquarters finally gave him three weeks paid vacation. Apparently, they think he's earned a break."
Mihoshi's eyes shinned with reverence for her Captain. Who knew he was such a dedicated worker?
"I hope he feels better when he gets back…" Mihoshi said, bending over to help. A small flash of guilt went through her when she realized that her name was on most of the reports, but every negative feeling disappeared with the secretary's next comment.
"So, now that you've submitted your report and your boss is on vacation, does that mean you get to go home?"
"Yes!" Mihoshi all but shouted, beaming as she handed the secretary the papers and rushed out of the room. Snatching the bunny tail that bounced with her hip, she folded her hands over it until it formed into a pink cube. Twisting the side and then the top, she smiled as she felt herself dematerialize and rematerialize on her ship.
She was going home!
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Thank you:
Mayasiiu: Umm no…Sorry, I know that my writing style can be a bit perplexing sometimes. Yosho met Ryoko on three different occasions: once in a bar on Kuros, once on a moon of Jurai's, and the last time he met her as Yosho was when she attacked Jurai. They were on the fourth moon of Jurai when she shared a kiss with him.
Lucas Ashmyre: There is no Y/R in this fic. (read the A/N below and let the reassuring sensations begin)
Raine84: Sorry… no Y/R here. If I see any good ones, I'll tell you about them. Thank you for your interest in my T/R though.
Fox of Anubis: Yeah, but since when has the Tenchi cast ever done anything the easy way…? (like Tenchi just choosing someone!) And you're right, Ryoko is a bit more crude than before, but that's just because she's missing all the good Tenchi memories that softened her up. I don't know when I'll write a meeting between her an Ayeka, but it will probably be very soon. Please keep reading.
Kistune6: Yup, I'm not one to let Yosho/Kastuhito fade away! YAY rebellion! Anyway, please read the A/N below and feel comforted. ((smiles))
I would also like to thank:
Dragon Man 180…reneey…animefreak03…angelmisaki…MoonstoneCabbit…Kasai to Kasumi…a reader…Lucas Ashmyre…trident-spear…Ryoko-SP…Nena Firewind…cyberimp6…PainsBeauty…bobbyneko
Very important Author's Note: Ryoko was never and will never be paired with Yosho in this fic. So why did she return his kiss, you ask? Because she was using him. She knew that everyone important on the moon would be attending the tournament, but she placed a lookout just in case. So when Yosho came strolling out, she wanted to keep him distracted long enough so her other half could rob whatever she was robbing without interruption.
Sorry to all you Y/R fans out there…
