Disclaimer.
Hey, Pioneer/AIC owns these characters, so there I said it.  
(in a whisper)  But if you are one of a large group of 
people bent on "re-adjusting" this ownership, my mailing 
adress is.ACK! (is stabbed in back).

AN.
This is my first fic, guys.  It's not my best idea but it's 
my only finished piece, so gimme lots a feedback, okay?  
I'd really appreciate it.  Flames accepted - hell, do your 
worst.  Anyway, moving on.

----

-Ryoko's Game-

by the Menace Washuu

----

A flash of red light, and the bottle exploded.  Shards of 
it flung themselves into the mud and left crevices like 
clawmarks in the earth.  Shattered pieces were tossed into 
the air, catching the light and glimmering as they fell to 
the ground, like birds that just couldn't get far enough 
off the ground to fly.  Crystals of the demolished glass 
bit into Ryoko's skin, and she said nothing.  The oni took 
a twisted, cynical joy in their failure to fly, and in the 
blood trickling down her face and arms.

FLASH!  

Chunks of tin embedded themselves in her flesh, as well as 
everything else within a ten foot radius.  Blood dropped 
from her eyelash, the salt of it stinging her eye.  Her 
vision clouded red, but she didn't notice.  The world was 
already red.

FLASH!

Half of the bottle flew, jagged edge first, toward her.  
Ryoko watched it draw nearer and nearer, so quickly 
approaching her heart.  She swore to herself that this time 
she would let it.  She would.  She had to.  It couldn't 
possibly make her heart hurt more than it already did.  
Here it was, closer.closer.any second now it would peirce 
through her breast and show her the pain she deserved.  And 
she.she would let it.  But history repeats itself.  Ryoko's 
energy shield crackled to life before her, and the dagger 
bounced harmlessly into the dirt.

Ryoko lost.  It was all a game, just another game, and 
again she lost.  She always lost.  At everything.  To 
everyone.  And this time, to herself.  She hated playing 
games.

Ryoko looked at her arms,spotted with debris and blood and 
looking diseased.  She'd lost.  Her life was a game, one 
game that she wanted to lose and couldn't.  That made it 
all the more awful to bear the other games.  Games she 
played every day.  Sure, she fought with Ayeka, but that 
was a different kind of a game, a game she knew how to 
play, and one she could win.  But Tenchi.

Tenchi was a game she felt she would never master, and it 
was driving her slowly mad.  Beyond all else the game was 
frustrating.  It had no rules, no guidelines, no 
restrictions at all.  There was an objective, but seemingly 
no way to get to it.  Ryoko used to think that she was 
chaotic and unpredictable, until she fell in love.  She 
found out just how utterly without direction one could be.  

It was a guessing game.  She had to know what Tenchi was 
thinking, and how he felt.  She had no way of doing that.  
If she tried to find a way, Tenchi, her objective, would 
undoubtedly push her farther away.  Sometimes when she 
thought she was going forward, she was actually going in 
reverse.

A paradox.  Ryoko couldn't appeal to Tenchi unless he 
opened up to her, and he wasn't likely to do that unless 
she was appealing.What the hell was she supposed to do?  

Ryoko flew over the tree tops, staining the beauty of the 
fall leaves with her blood.  She ruined everything she 
touched, and she hated herself for it.  How could she make 
herself attractive to Tenchi when she even disgusted 
herself?

That was the reason Ayeka's taunts didn't bother her.  They 
were true, and Ryoko knew it.  Ayeka calling Ryoko a 
heartless, conniving scum had no more effect than someone 
telling her she could fire energy blasts, or that she could 
fly.  Of course she could.  Of course she was.

The wind washed over Ryoko's face, blood streaming behind 
her and through her hair.  Her cheeks were lined with 
crimson stripes. 

She was flying at top speed now, faster and faster.  She 
shut her eyes tight, and suddenly.she stopped.  She stopped 
flying.  Her body, no longer defying gravity, plummeted to 
the ground.  It felt wonderful, to abandon the world and 
everything.  To forget for a moment what would happen when 
she hit the ground.  

She hit, but not the ground.  First, she hit the trees.  
There was a great clamor as braches scratched her through 
her clothes and stuck into her skin.  She heard and felt a 
great CRACK! as her back slammed against a branch.  She 
bent backwards and cried out in pain.  The impact sent her 
flying into another large branch.  A knot of wood jammed 
into her gut, driving the breath from her body.  She 
would've cried out again, but had no breath to spare.  
After this she fell straight through to the ground.  The 
last thing she heard was the wet thud as she cracked her 
head on a rock.

Ryoko dreamt.  These were fevered, unpleasant and 
incredibly realistic dreams.  She dreamt that she was 
running against a wind so powerful, that she was expending 
all of her energy and still moving backwards.  She dreamt 
that she wore a kimono so tight she couldn't move, or even 
breathe.  She dreamt that when she looked in the mirror, 
she saw a lifeless body staring back at her, it head 
hanging limply to the side from its severed neck.

Ryoko struggled in her unconciousness.  It was like having 
a hangover, only worse, because besides simply feeling like 
she'd been hit in the head, she actually had been hit in 
the head.  After an eternity of these odd, seemingly 
pointless dreams, she fell deeper into unconciousness.

When she awoke, she lay in a comfortable bed, and Tenchi 
was sitting at her side.  He smiled when she opened her 
eyes.  He leaned over and kissed her, and in her dream she 
was as happy as she'd ever been.  Then he pulled away.  His 
smile twisted into a snarl.

He stood up and backed away from the bed with utter 
loathing in his eyes.  Ryoko felt, as much as she could 
feel in the dream, as though he'd torn out her heart and 
squished it under his shoe.

Suddenly, the bed had disappeared, and the two of them were 
in a dark room.  Ryoko was on her knees in a corner, and 
Tenchi held a stick in his hands.

Tenchi raised the stick up over his head and brought it 
down like a club on Ryoko's back.  She cried out again and 
again as Tenchi hit her again in the side of the head. Her 
ears began to bleed.He took another swing at her head, but 
she cushioned it desperately with her arms.

Ryoko screamed into the darkness that she loved Tenchi and 
cried for him to stop.

This seemed only to make Tenchi more angry.  He beat her 
relentlessly, and Ryoko did nothing to retaliate.  She was 
still pleading with him when she awoke.

Ryoko lay prone in the dirt and a pool of blood. Her body 
convulsed with loss of blood and utter exhaustion.  Now it 
was time to make her choice.  She could heal all of her 
wounds with a thought.  Or, she could lay there and bleed 
to death.  

The game would end.  Finally, after so many years of 
struggling and going nowhere, the game would end.  But.she 
would lose.  Could she do that?  Could she really stand to 
lose the game?  

Ryoko loved Tenchi, every fiber of her being, her soul, her 
very existence screamed this to her.  Could she really 
stand to lose him?  In her dream, he had beaten her.  That 
didn't matter.  She loved him, and that wasn't going to 
change - no matter what.  One question surfaced in her 
mind.

What price would she pay for Tenchi?

Any price.  

She had to finish the game.

-----
Thanks for reading, you guys and remember - I want lots of 
C & C!!!  Drop me a line at Washuu-chan@qudditch.zzn.net

- Menace OUT