Credits: Tenchi Muyo!/No Need For Tenchi is a product of Pioneer/AIC. As such, I'm getting no compensation for writing this fiction other than my own enjoyment, because the thought of getting sued is rather unpleasant. Mr. Long T. Tran for his "Tenchi Muyo: Ryoko's Love Prologue" story line, parts one, two, and three, and the characters created therein. His fiction can be found at GenSao's excellent Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction Page: http://members.xoom.com/gensao/ Mr. Brett "Darkwind" Handy for his fan-fiction writing style influence. His "Ah-My Goddess!" spin-offs are great reading, and can be found at http://www.starvision.net/anime/ Disclaimer: All characters *I* have created are purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is pure coincidence. Anyone who thinks otherwise is probably just itching for a fight. Also, please do not try and distribute this story in some lame attempt to make a buck; it would be bad karma to say the least. Email appreciated! Send comments to Michael McAvoy (mmcavoy@acm.vt.edu) http://www.acm.vt.edu/~mmcavoy/ Tenchi Muyo! "No Need For Sasami" A Fan-Fiction by Michael McAvoy Even if you're on the right track, you'll get run over if you just sit there. -- Will Rogers -* Chapter Three *- The Masaki family had affectionately coined a phrase called ‘Yui Time’. This was in reference to Yui Masaki’s infallible ability to be at least ten or fifteen minutes late to just about everything. So whenever her family planned an outing or gathering, they always made sure to set their day to ‘Yui Time’ to allow for delays caused by her perpetual tardiness. Certainly, this morning was proving to be no different from any other as Yui was dashing about her room, grabbing books and clothes, desperately trying not to be late to catch the bus to school. With her hands completely full, she dashed out of her room, skidded on her heels around a corner, and sped downstairs into the kitchen. Sasami was already up making breakfast for the first time in several mornings, along with Yui’s mother, Ryoko. “I don’t suppose you’re running late again?” Ryoko calmly inquired, in complete contrast to her frayed looking daughter. If you stopped and compared Yui to her parents, she was certainly her mother’s daughter. Seventeen years old with similar long, spiky hair (only more blonde), she also shared her mother’s general physique, except not quite so busty. Also, her eyes were more like her father’s in color, and her pupils had more of a rounded shape, unlike Ryoko’s narrow ones. Stopping to bolt some food Sasami offered her, as well as a glass of juice, Yui ran for the door, rammed her feet into her shoes, and all but tore the door off the hinges. Sasami smiled at the retreating figure. “Some things never really change,” she said. “No matter what I or Washu ever tried, she’s always been unable to make that bus on time.” “It’s a good thing her ability to throw energy bolts didn’t develop until just recently,” agreed Ryoko, “else she would have long since decided blasting that door apart is much faster than stopping to open it.” “You wouldn’t know anything about that sort of household destruction, would you?” Sasami grinned, sipping some tea. “I have absolutely no idea what you are referring to,” Ryoko smiled back. * * * ‘Damn! Damn! Damn!’ Yui grumbled to herself as she flew across the yard, her feet inches off the ground. At times like these, she really appreciated the talents she was developing from her mother. Her ability to fly down the path to the bus stop had been the only thing that kept her from missing that bus on any number of occasions. Zipping round a number of bends in the path, Yui saw up ahead up her the top of the last flight of stone stairs before the bus stop. "Why the heck did mother have to drop the house all the way up here in the middle of nowhere?!" she demanded. In the distance the bus driver impatiently laid on his horn. “I’m coming! I’m coming!” Yui yelled as she raced to the top of the stairs, still flying, and careened down them. To late she saw the blur of a man facing away from her halfway up the steps. She knew instantly that she was going way to fast to avoid hitting him. “Whoa!! Look ou—!” Yui yelled before impacting hard into the man’s right side. Yui bounced off the man, but managed to use her powers to break her fall right before she smacked into a tree. The stranger was not so lucky as he soared out over the steps and, as gravity reasserted itself, seemed to hit his head and shoulder on the stones with a sickening noise. Yui straightened herself with a groan, taking stock of the bruise she imagined to be rapidly forming on her left shoulder from the impact. Looking down at the young man, she swore. “Oh, dammit all! I bet he’s dead or something!” Quickly, Yui calmed her mind and sent out for help. came Ryoko’s thoughts. Yui replied, Through the trees her bus honked its horn again. she wailed. came her mother’s voice. sent a very relieved Yui, as she gave the unconscious stranger a last apologetic look before flying down the rest of the stairs for the bus. * * * Ryoko arrived on the scene first, less than ninety seconds after Yui’s impact with the stranger. Shimmering out of the thin air above the man, she dropped to the stairs and gave him an initial inspection. He was laying face down with his head below his feet, and there was some blood that appeared to be coming from a small gash on his forehead His shoulder was also pushed into one of the stairs at an uncomfortable looking angle. Noting the man’s backpack and hiking boots, she guessed he was some day hiker rambling about the mountains. Ryoko began trying to unsnap the his pack straps when Sasami reached the top of the stairs with a little first aid kit. “Oh, geez,” she puffed, “I have *got* to get the hang of how you and Yui can fly around like that.” Stopping to catch her breath, Sasami asked, “is he okay?” She descended the remaining stairs until she reached them. “He’s seems to be unconscious, and he has a cut on his forehead,” Ryoko reported. “Might have a dislocated shoulder, too, but I can’t really tell. Here, help me get his pack off so we can turn him right side up.” Sasami got down besides Ryoko and began working on the straps. “You don’t suppose he’s a hiker, do you?” she asked as her strap came free. “Looks like it,” Ryoko grunted, frustrated at her failed efforts to her strap undone. “Oh, well,” she said, a bit of energy flashing in her hand, “he’ll have to forgive me for doing this to his pack.” Using her tiny energy ball, Ryoko sliced through the uncooperative strap and removed the backpack from the man. Setting it aside, she gently rolled the young man onto his back while Sasami orientated his legs down so they were no longer sitting uphill from the rest of his body. Ryoko looked at the man’s face briefly before inspecting the gash. “Yep, he has a little cut on his forehead.” she stated. “Hey, take a look at this, he’s not Japanese.” Sasami turned from his legs and looked at his face. Staring at the young man, Sasami felt something inside her akin to vertigo, and she simply sat and stared with a slightly bemused expression on her face. “We need to stop the bleeding on that gash, first,” Ryoko continued, “head wounds always seem to bleed like crazy, no matter how small they are.” She held out her hand to Sasami for some bandages from the first aid kit. “Hand me a couple bandages, would you, Sasami?” Not getting any response, Ryoko turned and looked at her partner. “Hey, Sasami? Oi! Snap out of it, kiddo, you can stare dreamily at him later.” “R-right,” she stammered, getting Ryoko her bandages from the first aid kit. Ryoko blinked in surprise; she had meant her comment completely in jest and was quite surprised at Sasami’s reaction to it. A quick grin flashed on her face in recognition as the hint of an idea began to take shape in the back of her mind. Her expression dropped back into a feigned seriousness as Sasami faced her again, passing over the dressings. “Here you go, Ryoko-san,” she said, blushing while trying not to stare at the stranger’s face too blatantly this time. Ryoko grinned inwardly as she began to clean away some of the blood running down the side of the man’s cheek. ‘This could be very interesting,’ she thought. As she continued to clean him up, Ryoko further examined the man. ‘Not bad looking. Definitely a westerner, maybe from America,’ she pondered. ‘Poor Sasami was so struck, her mouth was actually hanging open.’ Ryoko chuckled in spite of herself. “Uh, something funny, Ryoko-san?” Sasami asked nervously. “Oh, no, nothing,” Ryoko evaded, compressing the wound with one dressing while finishing cleaning up his face with the other. “See if you can take a look at his shoulder, there,” Ryoko indicated, changing the subject. “It looks like it’s starting to bruise.” Sasami moved around the steps to the other side of the man’s body, peeled the neckline of his shirt back, and peered at the skin on the shoulder. “Yes, it’s scraped up kind of bad, and it’s definitely started to bruise,” she reported. Ryoko nodded as she replaced the compression bandage with a fresh dressing, and applied medical tape to hold it down. “We’re going to have to move him up to the house at the very least, I think.” “I agree,” nodded Sasami. “How are we going to move him? Shall I run get Tenchi and Yosho to help?” Ryoko considered it for a moment before getting an idea. “Hang on a minute. How about some of those new abilities you’ve been experimenting with? Tsunami could levitate things around easily.” Ryoko looked directly at Sasami with an unwavering gaze. “I think we should give that a try.” “Well… I suppose we could, but—” “All right then,” Ryoko cut her off. “You concentrate on top half of him, and I’ll keep his lower half up off the ground. That way we can keep him level and comfortable all the way back to the house.” Ryoko looked down at the stranger. “We’ll have Tenchi come down and retrieve his pack later. You ready, Sasami?” Sasami nodded with a touch of hesitation, and began to concentrate. Ryoko, too, began to concentrate, but was ready to levitate the young man much faster than Sasami. In truth, Ryoko could have raised him all the way back to the house without even breaking a sweat, but she was more interested in doing everything in her power to help Sasami accept herself for what she was. Ryoko waited for Sasami, watching as the princess’s hair flared out slightly from the energy. “I’m ready when you are, Sasami.” “I’m ready now, I think,” nodded Sasami. “Let’s do it.” Together, they gently levitated the stranger up off the stairs and began walking him up the path back towards the house. “Okay,” assured Ryoko, “we’ll just walk him back to the house. He’s still unconscious, so he shouldn’t have any memory of our little supernatural rescue service.” Sasami looked up from her concentration. “That’s right, we don’t want him to get suspicious about things, do we?” Ryoko shook her head, “No, we don’t. I’ll be sure to warn Washu and Tenchi to be discrete and careful, but if Mihoshi decides to land another Galactic Police cruiser on the house, we might have difficulties explaining it away.” Sasami, a small bead of sweat appearing on her brow, nodded in fervent agreement. * * * Dressed from head to toe in her perfectly cute nurse’s outfit, Washu leaned back from the bed where the stranger was laying, still unconscious. Consulting her virtual console, she peered at a number of readouts intently. “Well,” demanded her daughter, “is he all right?” Washu nodded. “It seems that he has nothing more than a nasty cut on the head and a mild concussion. As for the injury to his shoulder, it appears to be a bad bruise as well as a few lacerations from impacting with the stairs, but there are no broken bones, and his shoulder is not dislocated.” Sasami breathed out a sigh of relief. “Well that’s something. Now we know we don’t have to call out to a hospital for an ambulance.” Ryoko smiled at the princess. “Indeed, that would be terrible if he had to leave before you even got to ask his name, wouldn’t it?” She was rewarded with a rosy blush from Sasami’s cheeks. Washu looked up at the pair of women with a raised eyebrow. “Am I missing something?” “No, not really,” Ryoko shook her head. “Speaking of names, he should have some identification in his pockets, eh? Let’s take a look.” Ryoko fished around through the man’s jeans, which were still being worn. His shirt, torn from the fall and stained with blood, had been given up for lost and thrown in the trash. Tenchi, after having retrieved the backpack from the stairs, reported that there was, among other things, a change of clothes that the man had brought along with him. “Here we go!” exclaimed Ryoko, locating his wallet. “Yep, he’s an American, that’s for certain.” She peered intently at the license for a moment, trying her best to sound out his name in English. “Nat-han-el…. Swann, I think. I’ve never really bothered to absorb much of the English language while I’ve been on Earth, so I can’t be certain.” “Nat-han-el,” Sasami mouthed. “It’s an odd sounding name.” Ryoko nodded, “I’m probably pronouncing it wrong. I’ll do my best to tap into Ryo-ohki’s language database and see if I can’t learn enough to do better by tomorrow. You should be able to do similarly, Sasami, if you want.” Sasami nodded and turned to Washu. “How long do you think he’ll remain sleeping like this, Washu?” Washu closed her virtual console, and it disappeared. “Hrmmm. Probably no more than a day, though I can’t be certain. He’s brain is fairly annoyed at being knocked around like that and is likely to remain shut down for about that long.” She looked over her patient. “Just let him sleep. He’ll wake up sooner or later.” Washu pulled the covers up from his waste to cover his bare torso. “It’s a shame to cover that chest, but I don’t want him catching a chill,” she giggled. She turned and left the room, leaving Sasami watching the young man breath softly. Ryoko smiled in spite of herself and left the room as well. ‘It’s hard to believe,’ she thought, ‘that I had a similar confused expression on my face after just meeting Tenchi for the first time.’ Ryoko thought a bit about the vague plans still forming in her head. ‘I certainly don’t want to try to be as manipulative as Ayeka in a matter like this, but maybe I can help nudged Sasami in a good direction. He looks like a nice young man. We’ll see what he’s like when he wakes up.’ Ryoko turned a corner and grinned viscously. ‘If he turns out to be not so nice, I can always drop him off somewhere in the Pacific!’ she giggled, and went looking for her husband. * * * Enthusiasm had quickly turned to incredulous self-berating as Sasami went hunting for Ryo-ohki to access the little creature’s databases. As she came down the stairs a few minutes after Ryoko, Sasami stopped to consider why she was in such a hurry. Eyebrows scrunching in thought, the princess stopped her hunt for the cabbit and decided to plop down on the living room sofa, instead. Snagging a hold of the television remote control, Sasami activated the device and began channel surfing. One after the other, various programs ranging from the uninteresting to downright irritating flashed by. All Sasami was looking for was a mindless distraction that would allow her to try and ignore all the confusion spinning about her noggin. Thanks to Washu’s insatiable need to tinker and ‘improve’ things, the Masaki residence television was hooked to a small dish on the roof of the house, which was pointed to a distant satellite overhead. As a result Sasami had over eight hundred channels to chose from, but she still was unable to find anything worth watching. Every time she paused on a show that looked like it might have some potential for distraction, it ended up being so annoying that her irritation soared. Finally, she struck gold. ‘The Weather Channel!’ she sighed in relief. ‘This has to be the most mind numbing channel in the universe.’ Sasami settled back into the sofa, absorbing the maps and forecasts scrolling across the television screen. It did not really matter that this broadcast was coming from North America and that she hardly understood a bit of it, she could still figure out what was going on as the weather girl pointed to swirling cloud masses in time lapse loops. As the forecasts continued, Sasami found her thoughts had settled enough to apply something resembling rationality to the days events. ‘Ryoko and Washu were laughing at me,’ she concluded to herself. ‘And, gee, what a surprise. My mouth was probably hanging open like a little girl.’ The thought made her teeth grind. ‘Why should I expect them to treat me like an adult if I act like a girl when some hurt stranger walks through the door. I don’t even know *why* I reacted that way. It’s not like I’m even interested in anything like that, especially since I’m leaving in two weeks for Jurai.’ A smile grew on the princess’s face as she tried to rationalize her actions. ‘It must have just been surprise at seeing an American around here. I’m sure that’s it.’ “You’re smiling again, Sasami,” commented Washu, “keep that up and people might start thinking you *are* happy.” The scientist had removed her nurse’s clothing and was garbed in her usual fare. She settled down on the opposite end of the sofa. “Oh, Washu!” jumped Sasami. “You could be right, I suppose. That wouldn’t be a bad thing, though. I actually feel better having talked to you and Ryoko about it all.” Washu nodded, “Yes, discussing your problems generally seems to be comforting to most people. I have to give credit to my daughter for that whole picnic idea.” “I figured it was a set-up.” “I’m not surprised,” agreed Washu, “we weren’t trying to be cunning.” A thought occurred to the scientist. “I was meaning to ask you, by the way, when you found the stranger on the steps injured… why didn’t you just use your healing talents to fix his wounds? Tsunami had done far greater feats of healing in her past, surely you could have fixed a few cuts and scrapes.” Sasami nodded, “I know I could have, Washu. It’s something I’ve given a great deal of thought to over the years, really. I think that the usage of my powers to heal someone is in itself a disrupting act.” Washu looked curious. “A disrupting act?” she echoed. “Yes. Oh, how can I explain this?” Sasami muttered. “Let’s say someone has an injury or illness and I come along to heal them. Already, the person’s body is reacting to the injury or illness in many complex ways before I get there to repair the damage or fight the illness. So, when I do arrive and heal the person, the immediate injury is taken care of, but the body is still in a mode where it’s trying to repair itself.” Sasami pointed the remote control at the television and switched it off. “It takes a while for this process to stop, and I believe that some bad side effects which damage the body may take place until it does. Also, where does the energy I use to accelerate the healing process come from? I channel the energy, but I think most of it comes from the injured person’s own body, which could also have a weakening effect on other bodily functions.” “Conservation of Energy Theory,” Washu pondered. “Energy is neither created or destroyed (much), it only changes form, and it mostly comes from somewhere or someone besides you when you heal, right?” “I think so. At any rate I feel in the case of some scrapes and bruises, even a mild concussion, it’s better to not interfere with the body’s own system of healing.” Sasami put the remote control down. “It’s just a theory, really. I don’t have any real evidence to support it, just my feelings.” “Hey, now,” interrupted Washu, “do not discredit feelings. They’re often the first step in solving a scientific mystery! Sometimes, when you don’t have any other information available, those first instinctual feelings are the best things to go on.” Washu paused a moment. “Of course,” she grinned, “those first feelings have led me to create any number of devices that have exploded magnificently the first time used, but nobody’s perfect.” “Best things to go on…” mouthed Sasami. She smiled suddenly. “Thanks, Washu!” “What for?” “Oh… well, before you sat down, I was planning on glumly accepting my fate for the next two weeks and moping about until the royal escort comes.” The smile faded just a touch. “I’m still way less than thrilled,” the princess admitted, “but I figure I should spend the time on Earth doing *something* and enjoying myself as much as I can before I have to leave.” “Really?” countered Washu. “Would learning a few key phrases in English be a part of that little something?” “I don’t see how it could hurt,” Sasami replied innocently. Washu smirked. “I bet.” Another thought occurred to the petite redhead. “Say, Sasami, about those precognition dreams you sometimes have. Do they always come true?” Sasami shook her head. “No, as a matter of fact, they don’t. Well, I mean, the general shape of the event often occurs, but not always with the outcome I dreamt about. I don’t think that the future is that easy dictated, and there are so many events that can take place before the event I dream of actually happens… It’s like, if I make a decision that seems to be counter to the direction of the dream, something different will happen, though the magnitude of the overall change is impossible to foresee until the event actually occurs.” “I see. So, if you decided to jump planet right now and avoid going to Jurai, you think somehow you would end up there eventually, just not in the exact way you dreamed about?” asked Washu. “Something like that,” agreed Sasami. “Perhaps in chains instead of a royal escort, though I have fortunately not had any dreams like that. Some disturbing ones, I have to admit.” “Really,” inquired Washu, “like what?” “Um,” began Sasami uncomfortably, “I’ve had this one part of a dream where Tenchi abandons me when Ayeka forces me to marry on Jurai. It’s not at all pleasant as dreams go.” She made a face. “I can see how it wouldn’t be,” Washu commented. * * * A lot of things were hurting pretty bad, and it was very difficult to self-diagnose the sensations. For some reason all the pains were coming from the right side of my body. This in itself was disconcerting as, once upon a time, I was the sole participant in a rather spectacular downhill cycling accident, resulting in a good deal of skin on the right side of my body being removed in one fashion or another by the pavement. The interesting thing about that accident is that I can not, to this day, remember anything about the crash itself. The last thing I remember was getting peeled off the road by some men from a landscape truck that had almost run over me after I wrecked. I tried to open my eyes to get some kind of bearings. Unfortunately, the felt like they were glued shut, and most of my brain felt the same way. I did have the presence of mind to perform the ‘panic check’, however. I have knocked my front teeth out a few times from some sensational accidents, and as a result I am rather sensitive about tooth damage. In any situation where I think I have been hurt in any fashion, the first thing I do invariably is take my tongue and hunt for my front teeth. They were still there. I instantly relaxed a great deal once I had my teeth accounted for. My bones can be broken, my skin can be ground up like cheese, but as long as my teeth are okay, everything will be all right. I tried to open my eyes again, and this time I got a little further. Where ever I was, it wasn’t terribly bright. Nothing is worse than waking up, injured, under those really bright lights a lot of emergency rooms tend to fancy; the pain is usually worse than whatever sent you there in the first place. Either I was in a dark room, or it was nighttime. Needless to say, I was in someone’s bed, and I didn’t recognize the feel of it. It was not the bed I had been sleeping in the past two nights back in town, so perhaps I was in another hotel? That did not make too much sense, since I had not left the town except to go visit a shrine or two. That line of thought brought a bit of my memory back, like a replay you don’t recognize at first, but it becomes more clear the longer you watch it. I remember getting off a bus, walking up some stairs, and then getting blind sided by something moving very fast. I groaned a little bit, closed my eyes again, and tried to think some more. My head REALLY hurt right above my eye. I think my shoulder hurt as well, but it was hard to tell as it did not really want to function when I commanded it to. Resigned to whatever Fate had in store for me, I cranked my eyes back open again and turned my head over to inspect the damage. That did not do me too much good, because it was rather dark and everything had a blurry feel. I did panic a bit then as the realization I was not wearing my glasses hit me. Let me explain something about glasses, for those of you who either do not need them, have only a very slight stigmatism, or wear the silly things for fashion. There is a segment of the population out there, for which I am a part of, who need glasses to do everything, short of avoiding smacking into parked cars or small boulders, while walking around. I can function without them, it just limits my world incredibly. If you ever want to know what it is like to be near-sighted (that is, have only clear vision up to about five inches away from your face), take a pair of binoculars, make the focus really bad, and stare through them while you try to navigate around your house or outside. Essentially, detail without glasses for me becomes non-existent, unless it is in those five inches from my nose (at which distance, both eyes can not really focus on the object well at the same time, making for more troubles). It is ironic, really, because my eye problems began when I was six, as I constantly read lots of books with the pages no more than those few inches from my face. Suffice to say, if I do not have ready knowledge of the location of my glasses, I get a bit agitated. On a few occasions in my life, I have been so absent minded as to forget where I laid my glasses the night before that I have had to ask someone to help me find them. That is extremely disconcerting, especially when you depend on them for a great deal of your life. So, naturally, I decided to sit up and look for them, just for my peace of mind. That was a huge mistake as the minute my head lifted off the pillow, I got a nauseated feeling like I was spinning violently and sank back to the bed. I made a mental note not to try that again. The left side of my body was feeling chipper, as usual, so I slowly brought my left hand over and lightly touched my face. There were a few scrapes and scratches there, I could tell quite easily. Something more significant was hidden on my forehead, too, since there was a rather thick bandage taped to my head. I decided to leave it alone and move past my shoulder all together. It felt very sore and heavy, as if it were best left alone. My right arm and hand seemed fine, with just an itch or two here and there indicating a laceration or scrape. I left my left hand slide back to its original place, and I closed my eyes. I had not planned on doing so, but I instantly fell back into a dreamless sleep. * * * Whether it was the flurry of activity earlier in the day, or the concentration that had been required to absorb the elements of the English language from Ryo-ohki’s database, Sasami had fallen asleep not soon after calling the day quits. For quite some time, she drifted along in a still slumber, not stirring at all except for the movements of an occasional finger twitch or her regular breathing pattern. Sometime in the dead of the morning, however, a dream began to filter through the stillness. At first, Sasami was quite aware of being somewhere dark, where everything around her was a flat, totally reflective surface stretching out to the horizons. In fact, she could not be certain where the dark horizon ended and the sky began; it was all the same, yet distinct in some unfathomable way. How long this scene remained, Sasami could not gauge very well. She might have been there minutes or years as a sense of time when dreaming is sometimes hard to come by. At some length she was suddenly aware that she was looking at herself, on the same featureless, dark plain, from a small distance away. She saw herself standing calmly, as if waiting for something to occur, but not really concerned with what that might be. Eventually, two bodies began two swirl around the image of Sasami slowly, forming as wisps of dark fog at first, then materializing into the forms of two men. The part of Sasami that was observing the scene, just as detached as the image of Sasami standing, could not make out the images of the men at all, except that they were facing outwards, diligently circling the princess all the while. For some reason the actions of the two mysterious men had a soothing effect on the sleeping Sasami. The dream was emotionless for her to begin with, but the images seemed to relay that there was no need for any concern, or alarm. Presently, more forms began to materialize around the standing Sasami and her two enigmas. As she watched herself from her disembodied position, the forms began to shape themselves into man-like bodies, only more numerous and circling Sasami’s body in a direction counter to that of the first two men. Again, Sasami felt nothing more than an emotionless detachment, but now the feeling of safety was somehow dissolved. Ever so slowly the shadowy forms encroached upon the two unidentified men protecting Sasami’s body. And protecting her they were, Sasami realized from outside the action. The numerous shadows had drawn long, hazy blades of energy and were slicing at the two men each time they passed. With an increasing speed, the circling of the shadows became so fast that it was no long possible to distinguish them from one another. The two faceless men parried and stuck with an equally dizzying speed with their own indistinct weapons, but were being steadily pushed back towards Sasami’s still expressionless body. It was apparent, though the dream, that one of the two men was weaker than the other, and his efforts to stave off the circling attacks becoming more and more laborious. His partner, though holding his own well against the shadows, could no more land a solid strike on any of them than had he been trying to hit the moon in the sky. Eventually, the weaker of the two warriors was struck once, then several times more in quick succession. Staggering to a knee, several of the shadows broke from the tightening ranks and stuck the man down further, until he collapsed completely and did not return to his feet. At this time the remaining man, still having defended himself so far, was quickly overwhelmed. After a brief and violent flurry of shadows, his body struck the ground as well. ‘And yet there is no sound,’ Sasami seemed to think in her disembodied form, ‘not even a whisper of wind or motion.’ Still emotionless despite the fall of her protectors, the shadow attackers circled upon Sasami’s undefended body, reaching out with phantom hands, grasping for her clothing and her arms. With the distance finally closed, at least twenty hands seemed to reach out and secure some part of her body and hold her firmly. Then, with a deliberate slowness, all the hands pulled her body in a dozen different directions, outwards, until she split apart into vapor with a bland expression still on her face. The scene fell away into darkness as the shadows leisurely melted away in the black. Sasami opened her eyes and observed the ceiling of her bedroom. She had not moved at all thought the entire night and remained unmoving, despite the sickening emotions the dream was now beginning to lay upon her. Shivering slightly, Sasami recognized that she was completely drenched in sweat and beginning to chill. Rolling stiffly out of her futon, she padded out of her bedroom shivering and entered the women’s bathroom. Relying only on the moonlight streaming in dimly from the clear protective dome above, she found a hot spring bath, her hands starting to tremble as she fumbled to ease herself into the steaming water in the darkness. Sasami got into the hot spring, clothes and all, and crouched down, hugging her knees to her chest while trying to absorb any kind of warmth. * * * It was getting definitely uncomfortable, wherever I was. Despite my best efforts to avoid it, there was a blinding light that seemed to surround me at ever position. Giving in to the realization that I was not going to be able to forcefully prolong my sleep any further, I opened my eyes owlishly. “Good morning,” a man’s voice said in Japanese. “How are you feeling this morning? Can I get you anything, a drink or something to eat?” Rolling my head on the pillow towards the direction of the voice, I made out a blurry figure with what appeared to be dark brown hair. Smacking my lips softly, I tried to work out the cottony feeling that seemed to be stuffing my mouth from sleep. “Huuuuh, ugnh,” or something like that croaked from the back of my throat. “Ah,” the figure replied, “sounds like that’s a request for something to drink.” The figure got up out of a chair and headed away from the bed. I watched him slide a door open. “I’ll be right back with something for you,” he called over his shoulder as the door slid back shut. At that moment my brain would have been happy to just sink back into a childlike inactivity and let things around me simply happen, but I really did not want to be totally out of control of my situation as it developed about me. Gathering my will, and recalling the nausea the previous such attempt had caused, I heaved myself up into a sitting position with my left arm. My right shoulder and arm still hurt, but now the pain was something along the lines of a general ache. I still did not feel like moving my shoulder much, so I did not bother to try. Rubbing my eyes with my good hand, I tried my best to make out my surroundings. It was not easy to do. My head still had some sensation of vertigo, but it was not too bad. The main problem was my impaired vision; I could tell I was in a small bedroom with a desk, chair, and closet along with the bed I was resting in. I saw what looked like my hiking pack in a corner, but for the life of me I could not spy my glasses. The door slide back open and two people walked through. “You’re able to sit up,” the same man commented. “That’s good. We weren’t sure how hard of a hit you’d taken on your head.” I must have looked confused until I remembered the bandage on my forehead. I reached up an touched it tentatively, wincing just a bit at the pressure from my finger tips. I struggled to say something in reply, but my brain was still too sleepy to process a Japanese string of thought. The second person who had walked through the door spoke up. “Aaaah! Not easy to talk in Japanese with a head injury, eh?” the woman said sympathetically. Surprising me completely, she then switched over into English, “Maybe you’ll be a little more coherent speaking in your native language?” It looked like she was grinning, but I could not be sure. “Uh… Yes,” I replied slowly in English, “Forgive me, but I can’t seem to put my thoughts together very well today.” The woman nodded. She was about the same height as the man, with a large, spiky mane of a peculiar shade of cyan. “I don’t doubt that at all,” she said, “you made a nice effort at trying to fly, but I wouldn’t suggest you keep at it as a hobby.” She had the smallest hint of an accent, and it was not Japanese. Nodding a bit, I said, “Yeah, what… what happened to me? I think someone ran into me.” It was all still a bit foggy. “I must have taken a spill.” The man handed me a glass of water. I nodded appreciatively and thanked him in Japanese. “Yes,” said the woman, “that would have been my daughter, Yui, who was running down the steps to catch the morning bus. She’s perpetually late, and you were just the latest victim of her tardiness.” “Latest victim?” I inquired, not picking up on her humor at all. “Sure,” she replied. “You should feel lucky. You’re the first who’s ever survived one of her collisions.” I choked a bit on my water as I finally realized that the woman was teasing me. The man turned to the woman and said, “Ryoko-san, what is he asking?” She replied, “He’s asking if you’re available for marriage. He says from the first moment he opened his eyes, he was in complete love with you, the gallant knight who brought him water.” Her low voice was full of seriousness. “EEEHHH?” the man seemed obviously shocked, sending me a fast look. I started to laugh, as I finally had the mental capacity to understand what was being said. The laughter I emitted made my shoulder start to ache badly again, so I quickly snuffed it down to a mild chuckle. I wish I had my glasses, I would have killed to see his expression clearly. The woman appeared to touch the man affectionately on the hand, and turned to me. “Well, if you’re able to laugh, you’re not so bad off. My name is Ryoko, and the overly gullible man beside me is my husband, Tenchi Masaki,” she continued in English. “Tell me, how are you feeling?” she asked, leaning forward to inspect my shoulder and head. “I’m aching in my head and shoulder,” I answered slowly. “I guess – I guess that happened in the fall down the stairs? Man, how long have I been knocked out?” Ryoko, still inspecting my arm, said, “Oh, about a day. You got hit by my daughter yesterday morning around six thirty, and right now it is -” she looked at her wrist “- about eleven. So, you’ve been out for quite a while.” I winced as she peeled back my shoulder dressings and looked at my injuries. “A bad bruise there,” the woman said, “a few scrapes and scratches, but nothing else serious looking.” I shot a worried look at my shoulder, and Tenchi picked up on my discomfort. “Ah, if you’re wondering about your condition,” he began, “it just so happens my mother-in-law is a doctor and lives with us. She diagnosed and treated your injuries. If you wish to speak with her this morning, we can get her.” I nodded to the man, Tenchi, showing I understood him. “That’s really fortunate. Thank you, Masaki-san, I would appreciate that.” He nodded and left the room. I did not want to make it look like I was not grateful for these people bandaging me up, but the fact that there was a doctor in the house made me feel much more secure. Ryoko spoke up, “Well, we’ll get my mother, Washu, up here to check you out again. She’s a very good doctor, actually, as she’ll probably mention a few dozen times when she arrives.” “Thank you very much Mrs. Masaki –” I began, before getting cut off. “Oh, please!” she laughed. “Please call me Ryoko, or Ryoko-san if you feel the need to keep with Japanese manners. Personally, it doesn’t matter to me much.” “You’re not Japanese,” I guessed. “Your English sounds American, and your blonde hair doesn’t fit in with the native population, really.” I wondered if I had stumbled upon some people from back across the Pacific. Suddenly, I realized how much I had missed just hearing someone speaking my native language in the past week. Instantly, I was starting to feel relaxed and better. “Uh, yeah,” she started, “I, uh, met my husband while on a vacation of sorts in Japan, but I’m from America.” “Really? Small world, isn’t it? Which part of the States? You don’t sound Canadian.” “Well-” she tried to say, but was interrupted by a short and petite woman who walked through the door. “Well, she doesn’t sound Canadian, because she isn’t,” said the newly arrived, red-haired woman in English that had a definite mid-western flair to it. “Sooo, are we deciding that waking up is a good idea this morning?” she inquired boisterously. “That’s good. I would have had to figure out something to do with your body if you hadn’t made it!” She dragged a cart on wheels through the door that appeared to have some large equipment on it. “I’m Washu, by the way, and I just happen to be one the best doctor *and* scientist in the world –” “Told you,” Ryoko said to me. “— so don’t *you* feel lucky?” I nodded. “I guess I am lucky,” I replied, still just a little suspicious of the situation I was really in. “My name is Nathan –” “Nathaniel Swann!” the little doctor cut me off. “Yes, when you first got here, we wanted to see your name, so we searched your pants for your wallet. Hello!!” she giggled. I was instantly suspicious of what *else* she might have searched. “Washu,” growled Ryoko, “he’s been through enough without your bothering him more.” “My, where *did* I get such a grumbling daughter?” Washu pondered. “Oh, well. Let’s see how you’re doing, shall we?” I startled as a very loud snapping noise popped in the air. The red- haired doctor was putting on protective rubber gloves as she peered at my shoulder. “Ah, yes. The swelling has gone down as I expected, but I’ll take another x-ray to make sure I didn’t miss anything yesterday.” Washu began to slowly pull the bandage off my head, the tape pulling at my skin. I winced a little bit. “There, there,” Washu comforted, “I’m sure that stings a little, but it’s not too bad is it?” “No, no ma’am,” I said, “just the bandage pulling a bit. You have to be from the mid-west, right?” I could not help it. After seeing ‘Fargo’ any kind of accent from the mid-west almost always made me smile. “Ya, you betcha!” Washu agreed. “They don’t make this kind of voice just anywhere!” She finished her inspection and turned to her cart. She fiddled a bit with the contraption, and finally extended a small boom out over my injured shoulder. “We’ll use this to scan your shoulder right quick,” she declared. Pressing a button, the machine made some small noises, and the boom moved over the length of my injury. When it was finished, a monitor on the cart suddenly brightened. Washu peered at it. “Mmm-hmm. Just as I suspected. No broken bones or injured ligaments in your shoulder at all. Just one heck of a large bruise.” She turned the monitor towards me. “See for yourself.” I peered at the blurry image on the monitor, but I could not make heads or tails of it without my glasses. “Um, I’m sorry, but I can’t see anything without my glasses. Where are they?” “Glasses?” Ryoko echoed in surprise, making my heart sink just a bit. They were my only pair in Japan, and if they were lost, I was in trouble. “I had no idea you had any. You weren’t wearing them when we found you.” She crossed her arms and huffed. “I guess they must have gotten knocked off in the impact with my daughter. Don’t worry, I’ll go with my husband and look for them.” “Thank you very, very much,” I breathed, relieved that they were probably somewhere still out by the stairs I had fallen down. “I appreciate it, really.” Ryoko waved a blurry hand, “Hey, no problem. Least I can do since my daughter clocked you. Be back in a bit.” She left the room. I looked back at Washu and the blurry monitor. “Well, you’ll just have to take my word for the image,” she said brightly. “I also scanned the rest of your arm yesterday where you have some lacerations and bruises, but except for an old healed break in your forearm, there was no other damage.” That convinced me she was on the level. The break in my arm was over fifteen years old, and she had seen it as such. “Sounds fine with me,” I sighed. “Now, don’t worry a bit,” Washu said, noting my sigh. “I think you should be up and around on your feet by this evening if you want. Your shoulder will be hard to move for a couple of days because of the injury, but you should start to get full mobility from it in a few days.” She touched my forehead. “The cut up here wasn’t too deep, so I’ve just got some butterfly bandages on it. No need for stitches if your body can do the job itself.” I nodded me head rapidly, repeating, “Sounds fine with me.” Suddenly, I started to get an uncomfortable pressure in my belly and bladder. “Yes, I’ll have my assistant, Sasami, come up in a few minutes,” Washu continued, apparently oblivious to my discomfort, “and she’ll be sure to redress you – err, your injuries, that is!” “Um,” I began. “Yes, is there something you need?” Washu asked. “Directions to a bathroom,” I replied with a pinched face. Washu laughed a bit too gleefully for my comfort. “Oh, really? I can help with that!” * * * From inside a large closet on the second floor of the Masaki residence, a great deal of shuffling and rattling could be heard. Within the walk-in closet, Princess Sasami rooted about as she identified and confiscated various bandages and medicines that Washu had requested for her patient. Washu had ‘volunteered’ Sasami to go and redress the man’s wounds after her reexamination was completed, but the princess was not sure exactly how she felt about her newly found medical duties. Inside of Sasami’s pretty noggin, a small battle was raging between the forces of depression and adventure. Despite the assurances she had given Washu the day before about trying to be optimistic about her situation, in truth Sasami was finding it very difficult to remain light hearted. She picked off the last of the items Washu wanted and paused, standing quietly in the closet. ‘What’s the point?’ she asked, handing herself a large helping of defeat. ‘Why am I getting excited about some stranger when I know that he’ll be up and gone in a day or two, and I’ll be leaving for Jurai soon after?’ Sasami scrunched her eyebrows and took a deep breath. “It’s ridiculous,” she said out loud, “I’ll just go in there and do what Washu wants me to do and be done with it.” Sasami backed herself out of the closet, closed the door with one of her feet, and turned to walk down the hallway. ‘Besides,’ she continued with her irrational berating, ‘the only interest I have ever been able to muster is from boring nobles and furry cabbits. He’s not going to be any different.’ She took a deep breath as she reached the patient’s door. ‘Well, at least I can appear to be happy,’ Sasami thought, sticking a small smile on her face. ‘Let’s get this done.’ She slid the door open and walked in, finding she was the only person in the room besides her patient. Looking up from the items in her hands, Sasami looked at the young man and again felt the same disturbing sense of shock she had first experienced on the stairs. He turned his head at the sound of the door sliding open and asked, “Hello?” The princess found her power of speech momentarily lost. “Uh, h- hello,” she blurted in English. The young man’s face brightened. “Hey, you are an American, too?” he asked. “You must be related to Doctor Washu and Ryoko-san, right?” Sasami’s mind was in a whirl, but she quickly remembered the cover story that had already been devised in case the patient began asking questions of this sort. “Um, no,” she began, “I’m an American cousin of Tenchi. My name is Sasami Masaki.” She placed the medical items down on a dresser and looked at the young man again. “I’m pleased to meet you, Sasami,” he said brightly. “My name is Nathaniel Swann. You’re here to patch me up again, so to speak?” His voice was deep and rich, with a soothing quality to it. “Wow,” Sasami blurted, “you sound like you should be on the radio.” For no particular reason, she looked embarrassed as she made the comment. Nathaniel smiled rather wryly and replied, “Yeah, my college advisors told me on any number of occasions that I was wasting a career in radio by being an engineer.” He rolled his eyes good-naturedly and smiled. “I haven’t decide yet if they were right or not.” Sasami found his sense of humor infectious and began to smile herself. His gaze did not waver from her face for one instant, but any self consciousness she might have felt was disarmed by his cheerful expression. “Really?” she replied, sitting down next to the head of the bed. “So why didn’t you? I bet you would have done well with a voice like that.” It was Nathaniel’s turn to look a little embarrassed. “Well,” he said, “it just never occurred to me, actually. Up until I got to college, I never used to talk that much.” “Mm-hmm,” said Sasami as she began to remove his old head bandages. “This may sting just a little bit,” she apologized. “No problem,” Nathaniel replied, his gaze still fixed upon the princess’s face. “Are you a nursing assistant, then?” he asked, not flinching an inch as the dressings came off. “Who me?” Sasami answered, focused on the bandages. “No, I’m just a princess—” She cut herself off, her hands freezing in mid-air above his head. “No kidding. Is the pay good?” ‘Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Ohmygod!’ blitzed Sasami’s brain as it registered what she had just blurted out. ‘Quick, quick! Think of something witty to reply!’ “Uh, pay?” ‘Oh, geez, brilliant response, Sasami, you goof.’ “Yeah,” smiled Nathaniel, “with all the work princesses have to do these days, you must get a nice salary for all those photo appearances, christening new ships, and having to date boring princes, right?” “Actually,” she disagreed as her mind still whirled, “I generally get chained to squat tree in a dark basement with only moldy bread with water to eat.” She then smiled weakly, “The princes *are* boring, however.” Nathaniel chuckled. “Yes, I can see how your sense of humor would be wasted on them.” Sasami started to let herself relax, realizing that Nathaniel had thought she was joking the entire time. She decided to make sure he kept that impression. “Thanks, I appreciate that,” she smiled back. “Actually, I’m more of a, uh, cook than anything else, I suppose.” She finished her work on his forehead and moved her attentions to his shoulder. “Not really professional, of course. Mainly just for my family here.” She removed his shoulder bandages and fetched a bottle of disinfectant for his lacerations. “Actually, that sounds better than being a princess,” Nathaniel commented. “Besides, aren’t the cooks the ones who get to poison the royal families? I think I’d rather be in that position myself – ow!” The peroxide Sasami had applied began to work its way into his cuts, cleaning them out. “Sorry about that,” she winced in sympathy. “I know that has to sting.” “Oh, no worries,” Nathaniel sighed. “It can’t be helped, I know.” Nathaniel released his tension and settled back into the bed. “So, will I have the opportunity to sample your cooking, Princess Sasami?” he inquired with a friendly joking tone to his voice. Sasami smiled shyly and looked down at the bandages in her hands. “I think that won’t be a problem at all, actually,” she said. * * * In addition to freely admitting a short attention span, Ryoko would also be hard pressed to deny a general impatience in her personality. Of the whole list of things in the galaxy that annoyed her, including empty sake bottles, the Galaxy Police, and a certain Juraian empress, waiting had them all beat by a long mile. Ryoko was presently sitting on the sofa in the living room with both her arms and legs crossed and an insatiable look of curiosity plastered on her face. Twitching one of her feet in a rapid motion, she looked at her watch, the clock on the wall, then back at her watch again. Beside her, Tenchi sat quietly, occasionally rustling the paper he was reading. Across the small coffee table sat Washu, who was busily typing on her virtual console. A look of unveiled annoyance crossed Ryoko’s features. *Rustle-rustle* *Tap-tap-tap-click-tap-tap* Ryoko looked at her watch again and clenched her teeth in impatience. *Rustle-rustle* *Tap-tap-tap-click-tap-tap* Ryoko unclenched her teeth, uncrossed her legs, and set both of her hands down flat on the sofa beside her. Tenchi and Washu both continued their activities, apparently unaware of Ryoko’s fidgeting. *Tap-tap-tap-click-tap-tap* *Rustle-rustle* Ryoko snapped. “AGHGH! WOULD THE TWO OF YOU STOP IT??” Having initially ducked behind his newspaper, Tenchi slowly peered over the top of a page and peered at his wife. “Um, is something the matter, Ryoko-san?” “Of *course* something is the matter!” Ryoko seethed. “She’s been up there for over thirty minutes! What is going on?” Her mother looked over her virtual computer screen at her. “Sooo, that’s why you’ve been squirming for the past fifteen minutes,” Washu acknowledged, “you want to know what Sasami and the American are up to, right?” “Well, sure I do!” Ryoko barked. “I mean, how long does it take to replace a few bandages, anyway?” Washu began typing quickly on her console as charts and data flew past on her screen. “Weeeell, if you consider the average time it takes to change bandages with injuries of this nature, adjusting for the adhesion of the tape that must be removed, as well as the inherent nervousness one atypical Juraian princess might be encountering, I’d say… oh, about 12.25 minutes, give or take.” Washu looked up from her console to find Ryoko glaring at her. “What? You *did* ask,” she said sweetly. Ryoko growled, “I know I *asked*, Washu. I just want to know what all the extra time is being spent on.” “Oh, nothing much, reeeally,” Washu smiled at Ryoko. “So far, they’ve been talking about little things like cooking, employment, and travel.” A concentrated look grew on Washu’s face. “Basically, just a lot of chit-chat, though Sasami has been laughing quite a bit.” “Oh, chit-chat,” mused Tenchi, “that doesn’t sound bad—” “Oi…” interrupted Ryoko menacingly, “you mean you’ve been listening to them all this time?” “Why, certainly!” beamed Washu. “You didn’t think the greatest scientific mind in the universe would sit down here on a sofa if she didn’t have a miniature listening device stashed near those two, did you?” Ryoko’s eyes were closed and her hands clenched. “You mean, you’ve been listening to everything that’s going on –” Her eyes opened. “— while *I’ve* been sitting here going nuts with curiosity?” “Hmm. Essentially, yes.” Ryoko, her eyes dangerously bright, leaned over the table and casually picked her mother up off the sofa by her collar. “I hate curiosity,” she said. “Hmm. So I gather.” “Uh, Ryoko-san?” Tenchi started, lowering his paper a little. Ryoko swung her gaze over to her husband, fires burning in her eyes. Tenchi gulped and quickly raised his newspaper back in front of his face. “N-never mind, dearest.” “Ryoko, why don’t you put me down before –” “Before?” Ryoko growled. “Before Sasami has to wonder anymore exactly why you are lifting me off the ground,” replied Washu, pointing to Sasami, who was standing on the stairs. Washu did a massive face-plant back into the sofa as her daughter dropped her unceremoniously. “Sasami!” Ryoko sang out innocently. “So, how is our guest?” “Nathaniel is fine and resting comfortably,” replied the princess with a smile. “In fact, he’s insisting that he’d like to be up and about later this afternoon. He doesn’t like to sit in bed very much.” Sasami looked at the little red-haired scientist as she pulled her face out from between the sofa cushions. “Of course, Washu should probably already know that.” Washu looked up cross-eyed from the sofa. “Uh, heh-heh, you noticed the little bug, then?” “Something like that,” Sasami grinned as she walked into the kitchen humming to herself. Ryoko quickly replaced her look of annoyance with one of her patented feral grins as she watched the princess retreat into the kitchen. ‘This might actually work,’ she thought. * * * Over a boiling pot of water, carrots were being slashed and hacked into delicate slices at an amazing speed. As soon as one carrot was sliced to the stem, another would appear rapidly to suffer the same fate. As the number of carrots on the countertop became fewer and fewer, the look in Ryo-ohki’s eyes became more and more woeful. “Meeee-ow,” she complained, resting atop Sasami’s head with her paws splayed out in all directions for balance. The number of carrots left on the countertop was down to just two. Still chopping away, Sasami hummed to herself, all the while smiling and ignoring the cabbit’s best efforts to get her attention. Finishing off her current carrot, Sasami reached for one of the two remaining vegetables and made quick work of it as well. Ryo-ohki was in tears. Not breaking her stride, Sasami picked up the last carrot and absently held it above her head while simultaneously running down her checklist of ingredients in her cookbook. Ryo-ohki’s eyes instantly turned into diamonds of happiness as she nabbed the carrot and happily began munching away, still on top of Sasami’s head. The princess really did not seem to mind. Convinced she was on the right track with the evening meal, Sasami worked from one side of the countertop to the other, hands moving rapidly with a practiced ease that any Paris chef would have admired. Reaching a stage where everything for the meal was in a cooking mode, either in ovens or on stove tops, Sasami paused to simply observe her culinary creations, occasionally lifting a pot lid or stirring something with a wooden spoon. With the fury of cooking past, Sasami allowed her thoughts to drift a bit while steam wafted in front of her from the larger pots. As the minutes ticked by, the happy expression Sasami had been adopting for most of the time she had been in the kitchen began to fade. It seemed every time she was not engaged in some thought consuming activity, the dread of her inescapable departure to Jurai weighed upon her with darkness and depression. Sasami sighed. The problem was that the oppressive nature of Empress Ayeka’s directive was always waiting for Sasami every minute of the day. No matter what she was engaged in, the knowledge of her impending fate soiled her otherwise upbeat and happy nature. In fact, Sasami could not remember any time in her life where she had been faced with such prolonged feelings of dread anticipation. The only two things that could even compare were when Tenchi faced annihilation at Kagato’s hands and when Ryoko had died so many years ago. Each time, though, the sadness had never had the sense of finality that her planned marriage promised; Tenchi had quickly defeated Kagato, and in the shadow of Ryoko’s death, Sasami had watched life bloom in Yui. For her feelings with this, however… there just was no hope on the horizon as far as she could see. “If you continue to stand in a daze,” a voice mentioned just over her head, “dinner is liable to be a disaster.” Spooked entirely, Sasami jumped an inch off the floor, whirling quickly at the same time with her spoon raised to her defense. There was a crash and clatter as Ryo-ohki landed in a heap of dishes and pots several feet away. Yosho looked down at the princess seriously. “Hmm,” he said, “that is an interesting weapon you have raised against me. Do you plan to engage me in battle with a mixing spoon?” Sasami panted a number of times before catching her breath and her wits to respond. “Yosho-oniichan, if you *ever* do that to me again, I swear that I’ll never cook you dinner anymore!” Sasami bristled for a moment until she smelled the first hints of something in the over that was starting to burn. “Oh, dammit all!” she swore, rushing to the oven to salvage its contents. Yosho calmly took the rebuke and walked over to where a dazed Ryo- ohki lay head over heels in a pile of cookery. Gently picking the cabbit up out of the mess, he cradled her in the crook of his arm, stroking her fur in a reassuring manner. Turning back to the princess, he noted that she had calmed down after critically inspecting her cooking. “I hope there is no lasting damage, Sasami-chan,” he apologized, “but I only meant to remove you from whatever weighty thoughts were prevailing you at the moment.” Sasami wiped her hands with a kitchen towel, and then threw the towel against the refrigerator with some vengeance, her long blue hair swirling in anger. “It’s not fair!” she cried. “Ah, and what would be not so fair?” asked Yosho as he bent down with his free hand to retrieve the towel. “And are you going to be throwing any more objects this afternoon? As you can see,” he indicated to his arms, “I’m starting to run out of hands.” The princess put her hands on the edge of the countertop and began to quietly cry. Raising an eyebrow to her reaction, Yosho gently placed the still dazed cabbit and disowned towel down on the countertop before taking the weeping Sasami into his arms comfortingly. “Now, now,” he soothed, “it can’t be all that bad as it seems right now. What is bothering you so, Sasami-chan?” Sasami sniffed into his gi-top before pulling away slightly and wiping her eyes with her arm. “You, you haven’t heard already?” she asked. “I thought someone would have told you by now.” “I get to hear many things,” the older prince remarked, “but not always as soon as everyone else.” Yosho looked over at the stove. “I do not pretend to be an authority on cooking, but I think you should tend to your creations before too long, else they will not be fit for the compost heap.” She sniffed again and nodded her head. “You’re right, of course,” she agreed, “but Yosho… can I talk to you sometime afterwards? I have a big p-problem, and I think only you could really appreciate it fully.” Yosho raised his eyebrows slightly at Sasami’s comments, but nodded his head regardless. “Of course, Sasami-chan. Please see me any time you need to. There is nothing so important in my day that time can not be bent to accommodate you.” A small, valiant smile appeared on Sasami’s face in appreciation. “Thank you Yosho-oniichan,” she said giving him a hug. “Thank you a whole lot.” “My pleasure,” he replied. Turning to the still cooking food, he added, “Do you think you could hurry the cooking along? I am *really* hungry tonight.” Yosho beat a speedy exit from the kitchen, dodging Sasami’s spoon attacks. * * * Coming up in Chapter Four: "Beloved, what are doing to Sasami?" Nathaniel's rehabilitation begins, as Sasami emotions swing. Send comments to Mike McAvoy (mmcavoy@acm.vt.edu) http://www.acm.vt.edu/~mmcavoy/ Last updated August 2, 1998.