Scars

Scars

By: hanyou

Disclaimer: I don't own Tenchi-tachi, (Pioneer and AIC do) and I'm certainly not making any money off of it.

            Today is like no other.

                You watch with lifeless eyes as Ryoko and Ayeka wage their endless battle for Tenchi's love. You glance at the boy and see him desperately trying to end the fight without getting hurt. Ryoko misinterprets your gaze, and growls possessively at you, momentarily forgetting about Ayeka.

                Then she sees the look on your face, and she's instantly sorry.

                But you don't want her pity.

                You get up, saying you need to be alone for a little while. Both Tenchi and Ryoko nod, and Ayeka gives you a sympathetic look. You restrain yourself, but for some reason you want to lash out at her. And her mock-understanding expression as she sees the pain flash across your face makes you even angrier.

                She doesn't understand what you've been through, and she never will. None of them will understand, so why do they pretend?

                You sigh, and leave the table. You pause for a minute, suddenly noticing just how quiet and still the house is without her…

                You suddenly need to drink.

                Because you need to forget.

                You walk into the kitchen, and you're greeted by Sasami-chan. Before it all happened, the cheerful little princess was enough to brighten your day, no matter what had happened.

                But in spite of yourself, you feel annoyed. Annoyed at the fact that this little girl's life is perfect; that she hadn't a care in the world. And you hate yourself for feeling this way about Sasami. But you can't help it.

                And you wonder why you're feeling anything at all, because everything, including yourself, is empty -

                - without her.

                You say nothing; choosing instead to walk over to the refrigerator. You swing open the door, and grab a couple bottles of sake.

                Sasami opens her mouth to protest, but the look you give her silences the young girl. You leave the kitchen, and absently wander through the house. You pause and grab a towel before heading into the luxurious bath.

                 It's your one comfort, but also your enemy. Because in there, you're alone; with no company other than your thoughts.

                And your thoughts take you places you don't want to go.

                You shed your clothing, and slip into the warm, soothing water. Your muscles relax and untense, and your eyes slowly slide shut.

                Memories suddenly slam your mind with such a ferocity that you gasp, and your eyes fly open. You quickly reach for some sake, and take three, long gulps.

                But you can still see it; the image is burned permanently in your brain. And then your mind drifts to somewhat happy times, her melodious laugher ringing in your ears…

                You drink more sake, forcing yourself to think of nothing but how soothing the bath is. And it works. You're pleased when you begin to feel somewhat nauseous, and you take a dark pleasure in feeling your mind be dulled by the drink.

                But the image is still there.

                She lies there, in a hospital bed. She has a gunshot wound – the damn crook pulled a fast one on her. You're holding on to her hand, telling her everything's gonna be okay, and she's trying to tell you something but it's too painful to talk.

                You think you know what it is, but you hope that you're wrong. You wouldn't be able to deal with knowing that she had loved you; and that you had never told her you felt the same.

                And then she dies.

                Coming back to the present, you suddenly realize that it's futile – nothing, NOTHING will EVER make you forget.

                And then you feel horrible. Waves of guilt overwhelm you; and suddenly you're no longer drowning in self pity, but in remorse.

                You've been so awful; so terrible, so cruel to the members of the Masaki household. And they didn't deserve any of it, especially not Sasami-chan. They were just trying their best; you knew it all along, but you were full of that dull, aching pain that no one could cure. And their attempts to do so angered you, even though something in the back of your tormented mind screamed that it was wrong.

                It wasn't their fault. They did nothing.

                And neither did you. You didn't tell her, even when your heart screamed for her. When you wanted to hold her, you only pushed her away. You were indecisive, too goddamn proud to accept the fact that you had fallen in love with your partner.

                For a minute, your tumbling thoughts stop. Why, you think to yourself, is love so easy to feel…

                …but the hardest thing to say?

                 It's strange.  You haven't cried in such a long time. You thought that after she was gone, you were incapable of shedding any more tears.

                But you were wrong, and now they're cascading down your face, your body convulsing with desperate sobs.

                Gods, Mihoshi. You think to yourself. I miss you.

                You're so alone.

                But yet, at the same time, you're not. Because everyone in the Masaki household is there for you, even Ryoko, despite the fact that she can sometimes be callous and cold.

                And as if summoned by your thoughts, she's there. She reaches out for you, and without hesitation you fly into her arms. You cry into her shoulder, and everything you kept bottled up inside just tumbles out, but you don't care because you know that she's your friend.

                She listens, holding your wet body close, as you tell her everything.

A/N: Oh my God, did I just write that??! It was my first dark fic, so I hope I executed it well. This was * totally * spontaneous – unlike most of my fics that are somewhat pre-written in my mind, this story just came to me as I wrote it. I'm actually kinda proud of it – I knew that when I sat down to type, I wanted this fic to be a Mihokiyo, like my other works. But I didn't want it to be the usual angst or fluff, so "Scars" took on a dark quality to it. Hopefully you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it.

-hanyou