========================================================================= 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 ========================================================================= - EPILOGUE - ========================================================================= Tenchi Masaki picked his way cautiously through the path that led to the lake, careful not to catch his T-shirt on any of the spindly branches in his path. The short trip from the campsite to the hot springs was not easy, but he didn't mind. The air was warm and balmy and a gentle breeze moved through the trees. The foliage allowed in just enough of the sun to make the air seem to glow with yellows and greens. It was pleasant, and if his mind had to be sharp to traverse the trail, it only meant he could appreciate it that much more. At last he emerged beyond the treeline. A rocky cove had been carved out of the mountainside. The dirt beneath his sandals was littered with pebbles, and tall boulders, piled up like potatoes after a harvest, obscured his vision. But he could hear the musical sound of running water and smell the renewing minerals in the air. "Girls!" he called out, looking around nervously for any sign of empty swimsuits. "Is everybody decent?" A small hand shot up on the other side of one of the boulders. "We're over here, Tenchi!" came Sasami's voice. "We're in our suits. You can come." With a broad smile, Tenchi rounded the nearest gap. Sasami and Mihoshi were soaking in the warm water, leaning back against the shore. Sasami's long hair was tied up, and Ryo-ohki was nestled above her bangs, ears tilted comically upward. Tenchi squatted down next to them. "Father's almost done with the hamburgers. Where are Ayeka and Ryoko?" "Over there, I think." Sasami pointed to the other side of the pool, towards a gap between two large stones. "Hey, Tenchi, Mihoshi was just telling us a story about her great-grandfather and how he almost got taken away by a snow spirit!" "A ghost story, huh?" Mihoshi giggled. "I never thought of it that way. I guess it is a little scary." She looked suddenly concerned. "Oh dear, I hope it wasn't in- appropriate for children." "I liked it!" Sasami said firmly. "D'you wanna hear it, Tenchi?" Tenchi patted her on the head, taking a moment to scratch Ryo-ohki behind the ears. "Maybe some other time. I should go find Ayeka and Ryoko. I sure hope they're not fighting again." "Well, we haven't heard any explosions," Mihoshi offered helpfully. "Thanks," said Tenchi. "You girls should get back to the campsite. You don't want lunch to get cold." Their gleeful laughter followed him as he walked around the pool and slipped between the rocks. At the end of a short path, he came upon Ayeka. She had stripped down to her shift and was kneeling on a sandy bank, rinsing the fabric of her shirt in the hot water. When she saw him, she flushed, pulling the damp shirt close to her chest. "Oh, Lord Tenchi! You startled me." "I didn't mean to, Miss Ayeka" he said. "I just came to tell you that lunch is ready. What are you doing over here?" Ayeka looked at her shirt sadly. "A horrid bird flew right overhead ..." Tenchi nodded sympathetically. "You don't have to say any more. Where's Ryoko?" Ayeka glanced up at a nearby path leading up the side of the mountain. "I think she went up there somewhere. She's been behaving awfully strange ever since that Zero incident. I'm afraid I don't know what to expect from her anymore." Tenchi looked up. The path didn't seem to extend very far up. It was overgrown with clumps of grass, but didn't look too unstable. "I'd better go get her then." "You will be careful, Lord Tenchi!" she called after him. He turned back to her with a friendly smile. "You worry too much, Ayeka." The trail was more difficult than he had anticipated, curving deceptively around a cleft of the mountain so that he actually ended up travelling higher than had been visible from the bottom. It was there that he found Ryoko, standing on the edge of the precipice and staring across the tree- tops. She didn't respond to Tenchi's presence, and he took the oppor- tunity to enjoy the scenery. The sky was wide and clear, with the forest spread out beneath the mountains like a blanket. "You sure found a beautiful place, Ryoko." Ryoko didn't move. "She left the link," she said. "What?" Now she turned to face him. The look in her eyes surprised him. It was strangely serene, at once close and distant. "Washu," she explained. "She left the link open just now. I never knew ... so much I never knew. She must have been so lonely." Tenchi smiled hesitantly, not sure of what to say. "I don't really under- stand." Ryoko shook her head. "Never mind. Forget it." He nodded. "I just came up to tell you that lunch is ready. Everyone else should be headed for the campsite by now." "Goodie! I'm starved!" she tossed an arm around his neck and twirled him about. He swallowed nervously as the horizon spun dizzily. "Shall we fly?" she whispered into his ear. He chuckled weakly. "I think I'd rather walk." She released him and he took a few steps towards the path. She remained staring over the horizon for a moment, and he turned. "Are you coming?" "I'll be there," she told him. He shrugged and began the trek down the mountainside. Ryoko stepped to the edge of the cliff and casually toed a pebble over the edge, watching as it vanished into the greenery. Abruptly, she spun around and hurried towards the trail. "Hey Tenchi! Wait up!" A momentary surge of pure joy surged along the link with her mother. She skipped down the path, feeling the warm sun on her face and humming a lullaby she had never heard. * * * The sun was low on the horizon outside the Masaki home: a deep amber-red against the orange sky. It bathed the Southern porch in a warm glow, which hung captured in the sedentary air. A stack of empty dishes testi- fied to a feast well-enjoyed, endowing the scene with a character of resonant amenity. Washu was sitting with her arms behind her head, leaning backwards so that the sun's last rays could catch her face full on. Across from her, Yosho finished his last cup of tea. He set it down and examined her. "That was quite a story, Washu." Her eyes remained closed. "It's been quite an evening. Thank you for the meal." "I think I enjoyed it as much as you." They sat in silence for a several moments, soaking up the atmosphere. "Would you mind if I asked you a question, Washu?" One eye slid open. "Shoot." "The Reverend Mother. Did you ever come to realize what she wanted you to understand?" Washu took a deep breath. She was quiet for several minutes. "She wasn't concerned about death," she said at last. "Because of her beliefs, because of her life, because of me, I don't know." She eyed him pointedly. "What do you think, ?" Yosho motioned for her to stand. He rose to his feet and reached up to brush the wind-chime that hung from the porch roof with his right hand. "Individually, these are just worthless scraps of metal, no different from any you might find lying about the yard." He gave it a spin and it tinkled musically. "And yet, whichever way the wind may blow, they will always be in harmony with one another." * * * For a twinkling of an instant, old masks fell away. In that moment, a passing observer, perhaps a lonely biker on the high mountain paths, might have witnessed a scene pulled from a fairy tale ... a black-haired prince and red-haired princess, robed in elaborate ceremonial garb, facing each other as if posing for a tapestry. And then the moment would pass, and the observer would laugh softly, because it was only an old man and his granddaughter, sitting down to tea. ========================================================================= THE END =========================================================================