========================================================================= DISCLAIMER: This is one part of a multi-part story. It has been modified as a .txt document for the Tenchi Muyo! Fan Fiction Archive (www.tmffa.com) and can be viewed with its original bold/italics at FanFiction.Net (www.fanfiction.net). "Tenchi Muyo!", Washu, and all related images and properties are (c) Pioneer and AIC Animation. This is a work of fan-fiction. The author has received no monterary compensation. Any attempt to profit from this document in any way is punishable by law. To leave feedback, send fan-art, or make arrangements to host this fic on your website, please contact me at takisjoh@msu.edu ========================================================================= WASHU'S LULLABY A "Tenchi Muyo!" Novel by John Takis ========================================================================= - PROLOGUE - ========================================================================= It was a quiet day alone for Hakubi Washu. One of many. This would not have surprised anyone who knew her. She had grown quite accustomed to solitude over the millennia ... one way or another. Regardless, she considered herself fortunate in this particular solitude. After all, she had the liberty to go about her work uninterrupted. And there was much work to be done. There were, after all, an infinite number of ways to look at the physical universe. Washu was determined to find all of them. She never had been intimidated by infinity. What WAS surprising was the juxtaposition of this quiet isolation with its exterior environment. A mere dimensional sidestep away -- conveniently quantified into a narrow wooden doorway -- lay a world of busy chaos. Three men, four women and a spaceship that thought it was the family pet all sharing living quarters. It was a volatile combination at the best of times. Washu pushed a strand of red-pink hair off of her forehead and squinted at the data readouts hovering before her. For a moment, the symbols stopped making sense. She sighed and waved a hand. The glowing screens dissolved into thin air with a , leaving a small radius of empty space between her and the massive laboratory she called home. Something was causing her to lose her concentration. Distraction impeded produc- tivity; so, reluctant as she was, she pulled herself out of her work and set her mind to pinpointing the cause. Her body responded first, with an audible gurgle from her midsection. Washu looked down in surprise. Though she was currently existing in her twelve-year old physical form, her slimness was bordering on emaciation. Washu was not entirely human -- sometimes she wasn't sure she was entirely real -- but this didn't stop her from requiring sustenance. How long had it been since she'd eaten? She hopped onto her floating cushion and glided over to the nearest com- puter. Nine days. She raised a slim eyebrow. Why hadn't she been summoned to dinner the first evening? It wasn't uncommon for Washu to become absorbed in her work. Day and night had no meaning in the laboratory. Sasami knew that ... and the little girl was usually consistent about demanding that her housemates keep regular mealtimes. "I wonder if I locked the door?" she mused. Or worse. If she'd really wanted to be alone there were all manner of creative measures she could have taken. There was one way to find out. Washu hopped off her cushion and summoned the closet door. She opened it cautiously. After all, suppose the house had been destroyed? With Ryoko and Ayeka under the same roof, it would not have surprised her had the house become a casualty of love ... collateral damage in the battle for Tenchi's affections. Or perhaps Ryo- ohki had gotten overly excited and transformed from loveable cabbit to warship while indoors. Mihoshi, too, had been known to crash-land her police cruiser in the vicinity. Even Tenchi and his grandfather were not the meek Earthlings they appeared to be. That boy had power untold -- the likes of which he hadn't even begun to realize! The Master Key was a powerful tool ... if something had gone wrong ... But the door creaked open and the house was intact. Quiet, but still standing. And not a person in sight. Washu stepped out of what appeared from the outside to be the closet under the stairs and cocked her head sideways. For a moment, there was no sound. Then, from the kitchen, came the steady chopping rhythm of a cooking knife. Washu beamed and headed for the kitchen. "Hey, Sasami! I think my clock must be broken or something. When's dinner? I'm -- oh!" She entered the kitchen doorway and was greeted by the sight of an aged man standing at the counter. There was no mistaking Yosho Masaki for a little girl! Yosho turned his head and smiled through his white moustache. "Good morning, Washu!" "Good morning. I don't believe I've ever seen YOU cooking before." He shrugged amiably. "I've been a bachelor enough times over the last few centuries." With a deft grace that belied his age, he reached over and tossed a pan of sautéed vegetables. Washu gave a small frown. "You say all this is breakfast?" He nodded, and gestured expansively at the adjoining counter, which was laden with plate upon plate of rice, fruits and fish. Several tea kettles were cooling by the window. She laughed. "I suppose that's all for Mihoshi?" The old man shook his head. "Just you and me this morning. Tenchi tells me you've been at work for days. Barricaded yourself in, actually. I thought you might be hungry." "Mmm-hmm! Starving, if you must know." Her stomach rumbled in agreement. "Where are the others, anyway?" "They took a trip to the freshwater springs on the other side of the mountain." "And you didn't go with them?" He shrugged. "Someone had to look after the shrine. They've been gone for a week now." "Oh." "You can catch up with them. I'm sure they'd be happy to see you." Washu sent an experimental probe inward to the part of her mind which was connected with Ryoko. They were having fun alright. She got a brief image of bathing suits ... several of them, discarded on the grass. Poor naive Tenchi ... But then her eyes were drawn once again to the feast Yosho had prepared. "Ah, let the kids have their fun. I'd rather eat!" He nodded solemnly. "It's such a beautiful day, why don't you set a place outside on the front porch? I'll bring the food out in just a minute." Five minutes later, they were kneeling down on opposite sides of a small, flat table, soaking up the sunlight and basking in a warm breeze which bore the scent of cherry blossoms. Washu examined the trays of food which surrounded them and grinned. "This might take a while!" Yosho leaned forward to pour her a cup of tea. "Indeed. Perhaps I have something which can help pass the time." He set the teapot down and reached one hand into the folds of his plain white robe, retrieving an envelope. He handed it to her. "Take a look." Intensely curious, Washu unsealed the envelope and slid out the contents. Her face lit up in surprise and delight. "Little Taro!" she exclaimed. There were at least a dozen photographs of Tenchi's baby cousin. "My, my, he's certainly grown in the last few months." Yosho beamed. "Tenchi's aunt, Kasumi, sent them for you. She mentioned that if you wanted to baby-sit again ..." Washu's childish grin split her face. "I'd love to watch the little tyke sometime. He can come over to the lab. Try out some of my new inventions." She flipped wistfully through the photographs. "Thank you, Lord Yosho." He shook his head. "Please. I would prefer it if you called me Katsuhito." She looked up sharply. "Hmph! Underneath that wrinkled face, you're a Crown Prince of Imperial Jurai!" His eyes glinted behind his thin glasses. "And you are 20,000 years old, yet you insist on being addressed as a little girl." Washu batted her eyes playfully. "It's only I'm so cute," she explained. She looked back down at the pictures and her face became serious. "I had a baby once, you know," she said softly. "Did Tenchi ever tell you that story?" He shook his head. "No. But in my youth, I attended the Galaxy Academy. We all heard the stories." "Oh?" she asked casually, sipping her tea. "What stories were those?" "Your history was well-known," he continued. "Especially the tragic tale of your child with Dr. Clay." Washu lurched forward, spraying a mouthful of tea across the table. "WHAT?!?!" He nodded. "It was a sad story. And there are more. Such as the time you lost the Galactic Science Competition to the renowned genius Yume." Now Washu looked annoyed. "That's not how remember it." "It's all preserved on the giant commemorative statue they raised in your honor, following your death at the hands of Kagato." Her cheeks wrinkled up. "You don't say. Pardon me for one moment." A dimensional pocket opened up next to her hand and she pulled out a journal. "I have a few ... things to add to my to-do list." She jotted down a few notes and the journal vanished. She smiled politely. "Now where were we?" "I was recounting your life's story. Shall I continue?" "Aack! No! The truth was strange enough! I don't think I can take any more revisionist history." Washu sat back and chewed her lip thought- fully. "You know, I haven't properly thanked you for this meal. Such impressive hospitality deserves a gift, don't you think?" "Hospitality is its own reward," Yosho said in a noble voice. "Hogwash," Washu snorted. "I'll admit, I don't have much to offer." Her voice dropped a register and she smirked. "Not out here, anyway." He raised an eyebrow and she waved the thought away. "Suppose," she said, "I tell you the way things REALLY happened. Not Tenchi, not even Ryoko knows THAT story." Looking suitably awed, Yosho bowed his head slightly. "It would be an honor, Miss Washu." "And enough of the 'Miss' stuff! Rule number one: if you want to hear this story, you will call me Little Washu!" "Of course ... Little Washu." She beamed. "The story begins with VERY Little Washu, of course. When they first found me. It's the earliest thing I remember, you know." "Perhaps," Yosho said, "I should fetch us some sake?" "Good idea. This might take a while." He rose and walked back into the house. Absently, Washu rocked back on her bottom. It had been a long time since she'd thought seriously of the past. Could she trust those memories? 20,000 years was a long time. She sighed. She had promised Lord Yosho ... Katsuhito ... a story, and he would get one. She could only hope it was the right one. Somewhere high above, a sparrow whistled, and she found her eyes drifting skyward ... where the clouds traced lazy patterns in the crystal-blue sky. It had begun in the sky. So very long ago. She closed her eyes and listened to the sparrow's song ... ========================================================================= CONTINUED IN: Washu's Lullaby - Part I: The Foundling =========================================================================