Disclaimer: I do not own Tenchi Muyo! nor its characters. I am not making any money off of this. This was written purely for entertainment, angst, and the never-ending concept of love. ~*~*~*~ Red Tears, Salty Blood By DiDi ~*~*~*~ Ryoko stared at the girl on the other side of the mirror. This couldn’t be..! It shouldn’t have happened. Ryoko was untouchable. But Ryoko’s reflection had a small trail of red trailing down her cheek from right behind her eye lashes. And so did Ryoko. Ryoko tore her eyes away from the horrendous site of blood and looked out the window of the bathroom. She sighed as her eyes settled on the figure standing by the lake. Tenchi. He had done that to Ryoko. He had hit her, and his fingernail had incidently clawed her eye. She hadn’t realized he had hurt her until that night, after the fight with Mayuka, after she had told everybody that it was okay with her if Mayuka stayed. Ryoko sighed. But for some reason, unknown even to herself, Ryoko was happy. The demon who had slain so many, who had destroyed so many lives, who had shed the blood of so many, was letting blood fall from her own body. A dark laugh escaped Ryoko’s lips. She should thank Tenchi for this. It gave the demon a bit of relief to see the wet red slipping down her pale human skin as she glanced back to the mirror. Ryoko’s thoughts drifted to the other occupants of the house. What would they do if they saw her now? Sasami would be frightened to see the blood. She would tell Ryoko to clean herself up right away, and then ask Ryoko what was wrong. Washu would probably examine her, thinking this as another experiment, an observation in her notes about Ryoko. She might be worried, but Ryoko doubted this. Washu, in Ryoko’s opinion, didn’t care about Ryoko as a person but only as an experiment. Ryoko believed this because of how Washu always acted around her. Ryoko didn’t once think that maybe she thought so because she was afraid of admitting that Washu cared. Ryoko’s thoughts turned to Ayeka. Ah, her most hated rival. Ayeka would be surprised at the sight of Ryoko bleeding, and she would pretend she would care, but on the inside Ayeka would be sneering and laughing at Ryoko. At least, that was what Ryoko thought. Mihoshi, Yosho, and Nobuyuki would be concerned about her. Ryoko appreciated that, even if Mihoshi was annoying and Nobuyuki was a hentai. Yosho was nice to her, even if they had been enemies so many years ago. Ryoko liked Yosho, since he understood her feelings for Tenchi and didn’t mind her constant nagging and playfulness. Ryoko was thankful to know him. The face of her beloved popped up in Ryoko’s mind. Tenchi. He would be ashamed of what he had done. He already was. Tenchi was the only one who had seen Ryoko’s wound, and was ashamed and shocked at what he had done. He had left the house and was currently standing by the lake, most likely thinking. Ryoko didn’t want Tenchi to be worried about her, for she could take care of herself, but she still liked it when Tenchi focused his attention on her, even if he was angry with her. But, of course, Ayeka would ruin all of Ryoko’s fun. Ryoko smirked, thinking of how many ways she could tease the princess, but the sneer soon faded. Ryoko was tired. She was tired of everything. She was tired of Ayeka’s bickering, she was tired of Sasami’s love and care, she was tired of Mihoshi, she was tired of Washu’s experiments. She was tired of Nobuyuki pushing her toward Tenchi. She was tired of Yosho’s understanding. She was tired of Tenchi’s ignorance and annoyance. Ryoko sighed, hating her life as it was. She wished she could change it, but that would disrupt everything. It would disrupt the balance of nature, for in the Masaki household there was a cycle, and if something were to change, everything and everyone would be thrown into the pit of despair and chaos. Ryoko wouldn’t do that to her family. A slight breeze caressed Ryoko’s cheek, sending chills down her spine. Ryoko looked around to find herself outside on the roof, where she often spent the nights. Ryoko wouldn’t sleep. She wouldn’t give in to the nightmares haunting her every time she shut her eyes. Ryoko hated the nightmares. They were horrified memories of Ryoko’s past with Nakago. Every night it was the same. She dreamt of Nakago making her kill countless families, men, women, and children. Ryoko hated it. She would wake up screaming, often waking one or two of the others. She would be silent and wait for the ones woken by her scream to go back to sleep. Nobody ever knew it was her that screamed. Most of them thought that they had woken because of some dream they couldn’t remember or because of insomnia. Insomnia. Ryoko suffered from insomnia. She couldn’t, wouldn’t sleep. She hated the nightmares. She hated the memories. She hated her life. ~*~*~*~ The demoness did not notice the boy down below turn and walk inside the house. ~*~*~*~ Ryoko felt a wetness on her cheek. That was strange. The cut had healed up long ago. Ryoko put a hand to her face and felt the wetness, then pulled her hand back. It was red. That was even stranger. Ryoko knitted her eyebrows together. If she had stopped bleeding, where was the red coming from..? Ryoko felt the wetness on both cheeks now. She blinked, and felt something cloud her vision. Tears. Red tears. Salty blood. Ryoko tasted blood on her lips. It was salty, like tears, not like blood should be. This confused Ryoko. What was happening? Ryoko didn’t realize that her wound was still bleeding. She didn’t realize she was crying. Somehow the blood and tears had mixed. Red tears clouded her vision. Salty blood flooded her mouth. Ryoko teetered, and fell. She didn’t hear the scream that left her lungs as she fell. She didn’t feel her body hit the ground with a sick thud. She didn’t see the lights in rooms above her come on. She didn’t hear the cries of surprise from her family. She didn’t feel warm arms pick her up and hold her in a strong embrace. She didn’t see the worried face of the man who she most cared about. She didn’t taste the salty tears that were not her own. Red tears. Salty blood. Ryoko didn’t sense anything as she drifted into unconsciousness. ~*~*~*~ A shadow watched the young man carry the girl into the house. Yellow eyes narrowed. A warped mouth sneered. Nakago turned and disolved into a ball of green light, satisfied he had hurt his little puppet. ~*~*~*~ Red Tears, Salty Blood Produced by Kawaii Minds Inc.™ © 2000 Diana Tsukino a.k.a. L. Gibson This fanfiction cannot be distributed or reproduced without the author’s permission. All rights reserved.