Disclaimer: As much as I would love to take credit for the characters in this story, I cannot. Tenchi Muyo! and its characters are property of AIC and Pioneer. “The Specter Affair,” though based on pre-existing characters, is the property of the author and may not be reprinted without permission. Ditto for all original characters found therein. Now that that’s out of the way, enjoy the story! Note to reader: Once again, I have omitted a few minor characters for simplicity’s sake, because their appearances would not have contributed further to content. I know I’ve given away a major plot twist by stating in the summary that Masato is back. So, when he shows up, just try and act surprised. “The Specter Affair” Aeka walked silently through the woods, gazing around her at the birds who merrily chirped in the treetops. The wind rustled through the leaves of the trees, as if they were whispering to each other. Aeka wondered just what they were whispering about. Perhaps they were whispering about what she was thinking. She still thought about him sometimes. It had been a while, almost six months. But whenever the wind caressed the leaves her mind would turn to him, and the precious gift he had given her. If not for him, who knows? Lost in thought, she almost did not notice a small craft flying low above the treetops. She watched it pass, following the vapor trail to where it had come from. With a start she realized that it was headed back towards the house. Aeka decided to cut her stroll short and see if that was indeed the craft’s destination. True to her prediction, the craft alighted in the backyard of the Masaki household. Tenchi and Yosho, who had been training at the shrine, dropped their swords and rushed to investigate the visitor. Kiyone and Mihoshi, who had been on patrol, had spotted the ship and were likewise headed to the house. Ryoko, distracted from her afternoon television programming, went to the lawn out of annoyance at the distraction. Washu, who had heard the approaching ship as it landed, broke from her current project and likewise made her way to the backyard. Sasami followed suit, temporarily suspending the preparation of dinner, with Ryo’oki perched on her head. As the craft’s engines shut down, all but Aeka were gathered around the ship. The cockpit of the ship slid open, revealing a single pilot, who proceeded to unstrap himself from his seat. He climbed down from his perch and turned to face the crowd. No one could speak. Jaws hung, knees buckled, eyes bulged. They could not believe their eyes. The pilot then spoke. “What’s the matter? Haven’t you ever seen a dead guy before?” Kiyone found her voice first. “Is... is it really you?” she asked, her voice small and trembling. “Yes,” responded Masato, smiling, “it’s me.” Kiyone rushed forward and hugged her former partner tightly. “It’s you! It’s you!” she shouted. “I can’t believe it! It’s you!” “It’s good to see you all again,” said Masato, returning Kiyone’s embrace. “Well, this landing was certainly better than your last one,” remarked Ryoko, referring to when she had first shot him down. It seemed like an eternity ago now. “What are you doing here?” asked Tenchi suddenly, still stunned at the figure that stood before him. “What happened? Why aren’t you... you know, dead?” “I’ll explain everything,” said Masato. “But first, if it’s not too much trouble... could I get something to eat? I’m starving!” “I was just making dinner,” Sasami said. “I’ll go and finish up.” Sasami then ran full tilt into the house, with Ryo’oki struggling to keep a grip on his resting place. Just then, Aeka emerged from the woods. Seeing the ship and everyone gathered around whoever apparently flew it, she rushed to join the crowd. However, she stopped in her tracks as Masato turned and met her eyes. Both stood in silence, frozen. Aeka’s hands slowly moved to cover her mouth, opened wide in amazement. Masato could only blink a few times. The two slowly approached each other, never breaking eye contact. “It... it can’t be...” whispered Aeka. “It’s me,” said Masato. “In the flesh.” Aeka continued to stare dumbfounded at this man who had been dead nearly half a year, but who nonetheless stood before her smiling. There was no way he could be real. Masato once again, to his supreme delight, found himself lost in Aeka’s deep lavender eyes. He had dreamed of this moment ever since he was rescued. Now that he found himself face to face with the object of his every desire, he was without words. He just continued to stare, as if locked in some marvelous dream. Suddenly, he was smacked back to reality as Aeka brought her hand hard across Masato’s face. “OWW!” yelled Masato in pain as he rubbed his reddening cheek. “What was that for?” “You have some nerve coming back here after what you did,” said Aeka, her voice firm and angry. “What did I do?” Masato queried, a bit disappointed in Aeka’s actions. “You know very well what you did!” said Aeka, her eyes beginning to moisten with tears. “Do you have any idea how much pain you caused me? How many nights I cried myself to sleep? How I had to live with knowing that it was because of me that you were gone? How did you expect me to live with that?” “I’m sorry, really!” said Masato. “I thought I explained everything in the recordings I left you. Jeez, how many times do I have to say I’m sorry, already?” “Oh, you... you... you...” Aeka stammered, too overcome with emotion to find the right words. She finally gave up and ran into the house, her hands covering her face. Masato made to follow her, but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Let her go,” said Tenchi. “She needs some time alone.” That evening at dinner Masato related the story of how he was able to survive his collision with Kazuhiro’s vessel. “It turns out Washu saved my life again,” he began. “I don’t know what you did to the shields on the drop-ship, but it tore through Kazuhiro’s ship like it was made out of toilet paper.” “But why didn’t you show up on the monitor after the collision?” asked Kiyone. “All we saw was a bunch of debris. We thought the drop- ship was torn apart.” “That was also Washu’s fault,” Masato said, flashing an appreciative smile at the pink-haired genius. “She powered up the engines, too. By the time I hit Kazuhiro’s ship, I was going so fast that the momentum carried me right through. By the time the explosion dispersed, I was way out of view range.” “So why didn’t you turn around and come back?” asked Aeka icily. Masato frowned. “Well,” he continued, “the ship took a lot of damage. Engines were out and so was just about everything else. I had to re-route all available power to life-support systems. I barely had enough available power to keep my distress beacon activated. I drifted for a long time, not sure whether I would live or die. Then, by a stroke of luck, I was picked up by a trading vessel. They were nice enough to let me stay with them and let me earn my keep by working for them.” “So what happened then?” asked Sasami, hanging on his every word. Masato finished chewing the food in his mouth, and continued. “Well, the traders had a ship for sale. It was pretty run-down, and needed a lot of work. However, I figured I could make it work. So, I gave them the drop-ship as a deposit, which they were able to part out and sell. When I wasn’t working with the traders I was making repairs on the ship. Eventually, I made it work well enough, thanks to a mechanic that was also on board and was kind enough to help. However, I still needed to pay it off. So I had to work an extra two months to get the ownership transferred.” “Is that why you showed up when you did?” asked Ryoko. “Yes,” Masato confirmed. “If it was up to me, I would have been here a lot sooner.” “Hey,” broke in Mihoshi, “does that mean that the Galaxy Police are after you again?” Masato chuckled. “Don’t you read the police reports?” he asked. “I’m missing, presumed dead!” Kiyone said with a start, “how did you get a hold of the police report?” “Don’t forget, I used to work there,” said Masato with a smile. “They haven’t deleted my access code from the database. While I was on the trading vessel I checked my status on their files. I must say it’s kind of weird when everyone thinks your dead.” “Well, it’s just great to have you back, alive and well,” said Yosho. “It’s more than any of us could have hoped for.” “It’s great to be back,” said Masato with a wide smile. Suddenly all eyes turned to Ryoko, who was attempting to feed Tenchi by hand. “Come on, open up,” she cooed as Tenchi struggled desperately to free himself from her clutches. “You know you want to, Tenchi.” “Honestly, Ryoko,” Aeka cut in. “To think that Lord Tenchi would allow himself to be treated this way by a devil like you. Unhand him at once!” And so dinner ended. Ryoko and Aeka tugged on Tenchi’s arms, desperately trying to remove him from the grasp of the other. Tenchi could only sit helpless, adapting a look somewhere between exasperation and terror, being stretched uncomfortably by his two lustful housemates. Recognizing Tenchi’s discomfort, Sasami attempted to remove her sister from Tenchi’s arm, while Washu and Mihoshi tried to pry him loose from Ryoko. Yosho sat shaking his head and grinning. Kiyone and Masato looked at each other and smiled. Masato leaned back in his chair and chuckled. It really was great to be back. Meanwhile, far away from the typical dinnertime events of the Masaki house, an important meeting was taking place. Since his failed attempt to kidnap the princess of Jorai, Hotaro had been busy procuring funds to undertake his next plan of action. After a series of bank robberies, he finally had enough money to call upon an operative he knew could not fail. That man sat across from him at the table. The large meeting room was empty save for the two. “I’m sure you’ll want to begin preparation right away, so I’ll be brief,” said Hotaro as he slid a thin folder across to his newest associate. “The Jorai Liberation Army has been continually humiliated by the emperor, who now views us as a joke. He has continually thwarted our best efforts to eliminate him and seize control. For that, I shall see that he suffers greatly. Of late I have been focusing my attention on his daughter, who has taken residence on planet Earth. That is why I requested your services.” The man opened the folder that had been handed to him. Inside was a picture of a girl. “The one in the photograph is the daughter of the emperor,” explained Hotaro. “It is believed that she is well-protected. Can you kill this person?” The man slid his eyes from the photo to Hotaro’s waiting gaze. “Yes,” he said. “Excellent,” said Hotaro with a smile. “As we discussed, your payment will be fifty million jorai, with half upfront and the rest to be paid upon completion of your assignment.” “Who else knows about this?” asked the man suddenly. “Only you and I know the specifics,” said Hotaro. “Good,” said the man. “I’ll need you to continue to keep this under wraps. Do not refer to our arrangement to anyone. Do not attempt to contact me. Should any difficulties arise I will contact you. If the authorities catch wind of this, It will be my choice whether or not to continue the assignment. Agreed?” “Of course,” said Hotaro. “Do whatever you feel you need to do to ensure the success of this mission. It is vitally important to the future of this organization.” “Very well,” said the man as he rose to leave. “I’ll begin immediately.” Before he could exit the room, Hotaro addressed him. “I hired you because you’re supposed to be the best,” he said. “Don’t disappoint me.” Upon hearing these words the man turned and glowered at Hotaro. Unaccustomed to being regarded in that manner, he shifted uncomfortably in his chair. The man then broke his gaze and left, without saying a word. Hotaro could only feel supreme satisfaction. He judged by his associates icy stare that he would not be disappointed in the least. It was because of this meeting that a Jorai ship found its way to the Masaki household not long after Masato’s return. The group could only guess as to its intentions. “It appears to be a courier,” said Aeka. “It must be an urgent communication from Jorai.” A man then stepped down from the ship bearing a file. “Princess Aeka, I have for you a message from the Jorai police force.” The man handed her the file. “What is the message?” asked Aeka. “About a year ago,” the messenger began, “A series of bank robberies began to plague Jorai. We were able to capture one of the bands of robbers, and learned from them that the series of thefts was the work of Hotaro.” Aeka gritted her teeth in rage at the mention of his name. The messenger continued. “One of our spies in the Jorai Liberation Army has sent word that Hotaro did this to procure funds to hire an operative. It is believed that this operative has been hired to make an attempt on your life.” Aeka gasped. Why was Hotaro making such an effort to get rid of her? “Do you have a picture of this operative?” asked Kiyone. “All the information we know is contained within the file handed to you, Princess,” said the messenger. “The emperor has informed me that this situation has been made the police force’s top priority, as well as the military’s. A man hunt has already begun. We hope to have the man in custody before he makes his move.” “Very well,” said Aeka. As the ship departed, Kiyone opened the file. Inside was the transcript of the interrogation of the bank robbers, a short description of the alleged assassin, and a photo. Masato glanced over her shoulder at the file, and suddenly snatched the photo from her hand. His face had turned ash white, and his jaw hung trembling. He stood staring at the picture, an expression of both disbelief and absolute terror slowly overtaking his features. His knees shook and finally gave way, sending him kneeling to the grass. “Oh, God, no,” was all he said. “What’s the matter?” asked Mihoshi. It was several moments before Masato spoke. “It’s Specter,” he said finally. “Who?” asked Tenchi. Ryoko stood surprised. “Specter?” she echoed. “That’s impossible. He doesn’t even exist.” “Oh, he exists, alright,” said Masato, with a look in his eyes as though he had come face to face with death itself. “But the Galaxy Police have never turned anything up,” said Kiyone. “We can’t prove that he even exists. He’s just a myth.” “He’s real,” said Masato gravely. “He’s real.” “What makes you so sure?” asked Ryoko. Masato rose slowly to his feet. “Come inside and I’ll tell you,” he said. Once again, everyone was focused on what Masato had to say. “So, who is this guy?” asked Tenchi. Masato paused to sip from a cup of tea Sasami had made for him. “He is the most dangerous man in the known universe.” “Oh, come on...” Ryoko trailed off. “I’m serious,” said Masato, staring at the table top. “Among freelance assassins he is a god in and of himself. To the best of my knowledge he has never failed. Countless people have fallen victim to his destructive whims.” “How do you know that he even exists?” asked Kiyone. Masato swallowed hard. “Because I’ve seen him.” Ryoko and Kiyone both gasped. Never had they seen this man for themselves, or known anyone who had. They now looked at Masato with undivided attention. “A few years ago I happened to find myself on a space station,” he began. “As I passed a restaurant I saw a man exit. Our eyes met only for a second, but I will never forget them. They were cold, lifeless, like they were carved from a block of ice. I remember thinking that a person with eyes like that couldn’t possibly have a soul.” Masato continued to stare blankly at the table. His hand trembled as he lifted his cup to take another drink. “Anyway, a few seconds later there was a loud explosion and I was thrown to the ground by a shockwave,” he continued. “There was a bomb in the restaurant. Everyone in it was killed.” “So this guy planted the bomb?” asked Mihoshi. “Yes, he did,” said Masato. “I learned later that an organized crime syndicate paid to have Specter take out a rival syndicate leader who was in the restaurant at the time. I knew then that the man I saw leave was Specter.” “He blew up a whole restaurant?” asked Washu. “Just to get one guy?” “Yes,” said Masato. “He didn’t just kill his target, though. There were other people in the restaurant. Dozens, in fact. All of them were killed.” The group said nothing. So that was the kind of person they were up against. “Specter has no regard for human life,” said Masato. “He is like a robot, killing anything in his path to get what he wants.” He gave a deep sigh. “And now he wants Aeka.” “So what are we going to do?” asked Ryoko. Masato once again paused for several moments before he spoke. “The only thing we can do,” he eventually said. “We’ve got to get to him first.” He turned and looked at Aeka with concern. “I can’t guarantee your protection, not this time. All I can say is that I will do everything in my power to stop this madman. It’s him or me,” he added harshly. “Well, let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” replied Aeka, just as harshly. “Not this time.” For her own protection, it was decided that Aeka should live in the shrine until Specter was captured or killed. Aeka was none too happy with the prospect. Despite the fact that she was more easily guarded there due to the shrine’s single main entrance, the living conditions were not exactly what the crown princess of Jorai was accustomed to. Tenchi, Masato, Kiyone, and Mihoshi were to watch her at all times, with a pair alternating shifts throughout the day. Meanwhile, Yosho, Sasami, Ryoko, and Washu remained in the house, ready at a moment’s notice to respond to any disturbance. Two days passed without incident. Aeka became impatient, convinced that either Specter had already been caught, or that he was too paranoid to continue. She chastised Masato for making her take such precautions against a man who supposedly didn’t exist. Masato, however, knew better. “He’s just waiting for the right moment,” he said. “A man like this doesn’t make mistakes. He’s spent countless years in a profession that does not easily forgive error. And he’s succeeded. You think he’s the one that’s fighting us? No; it’s the other way around.” “You certainly aren’t making me feel better,” said Aeka, nervously wringing her hands. “But I’m sure nothing will come of this. I really think you’re overreacting.” “I only know what I saw,” said Masato. “It was only for an instant, but what I saw in those eyes was inhuman. I don’t mind telling you that I’m afraid, Aeka. I’m afraid for you.” “Please, Masato,” said Aeka, becoming annoyed at Masato’s theatrics. “You act as if this man can’t be stopped. I’m not worried at all, and you shouldn’t be either. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to bed,” she added as she motioned for Masato to leave. Masato frowned. She was still mad at him. Masato winced as Aeka slammed the door shut behind him as he made his exit. He sat dejectedly on the steps. Tenchi, who was sharing watch duty with him, noticed his long face and took a seat next to him. “You okay?” he asked. “Yeah, fine,” he said, then added rather suddenly, “It’s just that... I mean... Why is Aeka acting so weird? I mean, I don’t expect her to be throwing herself at my feet or anything, but she seems so mad at me. I mean, what’s going on?” Tenchi sat in thought for a moment. “You know,” he said, “after we thought you were dead, we were all so sad. But, out of all of us, Aeka took it hardest. She continually blamed herself for your death. I can’t tell you how many times the quiet of the house at night was broken by her crying. She asked me once if she was worth dying for, and I really think that she doesn’t think so. She feels unworthy of her own life.” Masato sank his head further. “Wow,” he said. He couldn’t have anticipated that Aeka could feel this way. She didn’t hate Masato for what he did, but because it was she that he did it for. “I’m not saying this to make you feel bad,” said Tenchi, “I just thought it might help if you knew where she was coming from.” “She’s just so mad at me!” said Masato in desperation. “I don’t think she even likes me anymore.” “I’m sure she still likes you,” reassured Tenchi. “I think she was just surprised at how strongly you felt about her, and that you would do what you did. Maybe she feels a little guilty.” “I just wish there was something I could say to make everything okay,” said Masato, shaking his head. “There’s no one thing to say,” replied Tenchi. “But give it time. She’ll come around. I promise.” Masato stared into the distance. “I hope you’re right, Tenchi,” he said. “I hope to God you’re right.” Specter had already worked out his plan of attack. It would be fairly direct, considering that anyone guarding against him would not be able to do so effectively. As he made his way to Earth he was in high spirits, confident that soon he would be another twenty five million jorai richer. Suddenly a craft showed up on his radar and attempted to open a channel to his ship. He pressed the button to activate the video screen and found himself face to face with a Galaxy Police officer. “Attention, unidentified craft,” said the officer in a stiff, official tone, “you have entered protected space. All crafts passing through must be inspected at the nearest checkpoint. We will escort you there.” “Yes, sir, I understand,” said Specter as he laid in a course to follow the officer. He was quite annoyed at the delay he faced at the hands of the police. The checking station was a short flight. He docked his craft and was escorted into the docking bay by another officer. “May I see your identification and registration for your vessel?” he asked. Specter silently handed him all requested information, as well as a shipping schedule. “Purpose of your voyage, sir?” asked the officer. “I’m returning from a delivery,” said Specter. “All the information is in the shipping schedule I gave you.” The officer quickly leafed through the shipping schedule, then handed the registration to another officer. “Run that for me, would you?” he requested, and his associate obeyed, adjourning to a nearby computer. “If I may ask,” Specter said, “why the security? This checking station wasn’t active before. Is something going on?” The officer frowned. The information given to the department about the assassination attempt on the princess was to be kept strictly confidential. Most of the officers on the station didn’t even know about it. “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to give specifics,” explained the officer. “All I can say is that there may be a situation, and we must take certain precautions.” “I understand,” said Specter. “You have to be safe.” The other officer then broke from the computer and approached his colleague. “Registration checks out,” he said. “Shipping schedule, too. Everything’s fine.” He handed the documents back to Specter. “Okay, everything checks out,” said the other officer to Specter. “You’re all set to go. Sorry about the inconvenience, sir.” “Well, you have to be safe,” he repeated as he made his way back to his vessel. Clear of the station, Specter removed the disguise he had donned. It wasn’t much; just a wig, some color contact lenses, and some latex to fill his face out. But it worked, and so did the forged documents he had commissioned two days previous. He gave a sigh. He wished he didn’t have to rely on others so much, but a large part of being a successful assassin was who you knew. And Specter knew the best. Subsequently, he was the best at what he did. Specter again resumed his course for Earth. He would most likely arrive in a few ours. He would land some distance from the residence of his target, covering the rest of the way on foot so as to avoid detection. He again withdrew the picture of his target and looked at it again. She didn’t look like much at all. Filled with confidence, he said aloud, “This will be easy.” That night, Masato had the dream again. It was more of a nightmare, really. It had plagued him ever since the death of his brother. Each night the events of the fair played out in his mind, and each night he awoke in a cold sweat. It was so that he dreaded sleep each night, unable to relive the loss of his flesh and blood again. The voice of his mother rang out as clear as the day it happened. “Let’s not get separated,” she said. “And Masato, make sure Kori doesn’t get into any trouble.” “Don’t worry, Mom,” said Masato, as he glanced down at the grinning face of his little brother. “Kori and I will stick together.” At the cotton candy booth, Masato didn’t know what happened. He looked down at his brother who stood at his side. He turned for just a second to pay the vendor and take the pink candy from his hand. It was only for a second. When he turned his brother was gone. “Kori?” he called. “Kori?” he called again. “Kori?” he called a third time. The people. Always the people. They were everywhere, obscuring his vision. He could not see. He could not breathe. All he could do was shout, “Kori! Kori! Kori!” The deafening roar of the crowd drowned out his words. Among the throng of people, he was alone. Then, he would invariably and quite suddenly find himself in his backyard, on the bank of the stream, feet at the bridge that he and his brother had helped his father build that spring. On the other side of the stream his brother played in the pockets of sunlight that shone through the leaves of the trees. His brother ventured farther into the woods, motioning for Masato to follow. Masato took a step onto the bridge, which began to collapse under his feet. He hurriedly jumped back onto solid ground as the remains of the bridge floated in a heap downstream. Unable to cross the stream, he could only watch helplessly as his brother widened the distance between them, eventually to disappear among the trees. Masato’s eyes shot open and hurriedly looked around him. Satisfied that he had rejoined the realm of the waking, he sat up and wiped his hand over his face. His forehead was beaded with cold sweat. Just then, a hand touched his shoulder in the darkness. “Masato,” whispered Kiyone, “it’s your turn to take watch.” “Okay,” he said, rising to his feet. “Sleep well.” Masato took his station on the front steps of the shrine, while Tenchi watched the rear of the building. He sat on the hard stone of the steps, and looked out upon the valley. It was hard to keep a constant vigil, especially when everyone around him was doubtful of anything happening at all. Still, Masato never wavered in his determination to protect Aeka, even if it was against a foe that did not exist. But these past few days had been a tremendous drain on him, and he felt guilty about putting everyone through this hell. What if they were right? What if Specter didn’t exist? What would Aeka say to him? Masato was stirred from his reflections when a figure ghosted across his field of view. He reflexively reached for his blaster, which never left his side, but stopped himself when he realized it was Aeka. He breathed a sigh of relief and approached her. “You should tell someone when you’re walking around,” he said. “You scared me half to death.” Aeka did not answer. She continued to stare into the valley, her arms folded. Masato was determined to put a stop to her anger. “I can’t begin to guess how you must feel,” he began. “If it were me, I don’t know what I would do. I just wish you would tell me what’s wrong. I’m here for you.” Aeka did not answer. “Can we put the past behind us?” asked Masato. “Whatever I did to hurt you I hope we can move past it and look to the future.” “We have no future,” said Aeka coolly. Masato was hurt. “What do you mean?” he asked her. “I mean,” said Aeka, “that from the very start you knew I could never love you the way you wanted me to. Still, you went off and did what you did knowing that it was for my life. How do you expect me to repay something like that?” “Aeka, I don’t want you to repay me,” assured Masato. “But what am I going to do?” she asked. “Things can’t go back to the way they were between us. You have to realize that.” “I don’t want them to,” said Masato. “What happened in the past doesn’t matter anymore. I want to look ahead.” Masato placed his hands on Aeka’s shoulders and gently turned her to face him. The light from the stars glinted off her eyes. She was crying. “I can’t be what you want me to be, I can’t,” she said softly. “You don’t have to be anything you don’t want to be,” said Masato, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Just seeing you here is enough for me. I just want to be near you, to be with you. I love you, Aeka.” Aeka lifted her gaze to meet Masato’s eyes. Ever since he had supposedly given his life for her, she felt angry at him, mainly because she didn’t know how else to feel. But deep down inside she still cared about him, and to hear Masato say those words to her again reminded her of how she really felt. So not surprisingly she could not help but embrace him and hold him tightly, letting her warm tears soak through his shirt onto his shoulder. Later that evening, with Aeka nestled safely in her bedroll, Masato sat on the steps, pleased with himself that he had smoothed things over with Aeka. Still, he could not help thinking about his brother. Tenchi made his way from the rear of the shrine; their watch was almost up. “How are you holding up?” asked Tenchi. “Tired,” said Masato, attempting to massage the drowsiness from his eyes. “Let’s wake the girls,” said Tenchi, referring to Kiyone and Mihoshi. “It’s their time.” As Tenchi got up to do so, he heard Masato mumble, “It’s my fault.” “Huh?” asked Tenchi. “My brother,” said Masato flatly. “It’s my fault.” Tenchi sat again. “After we lost you, Sasami told me the story of how you lost your brother,” he said. “I know it must be hard.” “You can’t know,” said Masato. “Yes I can,” said Tenchi. “I felt the same way when I lost my mother.” Masato looked at Tenchi quizzically; Masato wondered why Tenchi never brought this up before. “You feel helpless,” said Tenchi, staring off into the distance. “You feel like there was something you did wrong. You’re angry at the world. You want revenge. I suppose that’s why you became a police officer in the first place, huh?” Masato was taken aback. Was he really that easy to figure out? “There’s an old saying that says time heals all wounds,” he said at length. “That’s a load of crap, isn’t it?” “Yeah,” said Tenchi. “But it does get better, if you let it.” “I wish I could let it,” said Masato. “It just seems like I can never do enough.” Tenchi put a hand on Masato’s back. “Come on,” he said, “let’s get the girls out here and get some sleep.” Masato reluctantly followed. No matter how tired he was, he could not look forward to sleep. At the house, Sasami was busy washing the dishes from dinner, with Ryo’oki perched on her head. Of all the inhabitants of the house, she was the only one who seemed to show any concern for the situation at hand. “Yosho,” she asked, “will my sister be okay?” Yosho smiled. He had lost count of how many times she asked that. “Aeka will be fine,” he said from the other room. “We’ve taken every precaution. She’s in good hands.” In truth, Yosho was not sure. He had dealt with some very dangerous individuals in his lifetime. If this man, Specter, was half as dangerous as Masato described, no precaution could be absolute. He had to place his trust in the individuals who knew the situation, and he felt very helpless of that indeed. Washu, who had overheard the conversation, then emerged from her lab. “Don’t worry about it,” she smiled at the pigtailed princess. “I’ve set up an electronic perimeter around the shrine. If anyone passes through it, It’ll set off an alarm. It’s impenetrable! If that guy tries anything, we’ll nab him for sure!” Sasami smiled weakly. “I guess you’re right,” she said. Ryoko could then be seen hovering down the stairs, in a rather wobbly manner, holding an empty bottle. She had been in high spirits these past few days away from Aeka. She felt almost like she was on vacation. She only regretted that Tenchi was not there to share it with her. “Come on, Tenchi,” she had pleaded with him, “stay here with me. It’ll be fun. I guarantee it.” “No way!” Tenchi had responded. “Aeka needs my help right now.” “Oh, but she can take care of herself,” Ryoko had continued, throwing her arms around Tenchi‘s neck. “Right now, I need you. Please, Tenchi, please!” No amount of begging caused Tenchi to change his mind, and she swore a most unkind sentiment under her breath about Aeka as the group left for the security of the shrine. “We’re out of sake,” she announced unceremoniously. “I’m going to get more.” “Hurry back,” said Yosho flatly, displeased that the space pirate had been on a drinking binge since Aeka left. Or was it because Tenchi left? No matter, she was drinking sake as if it were going out of style. She closed the door behind her and wobbled her way to the market. “I’m going to get back to work,” announced Washu, as she made her way back to her laboratory. “This thing with Aeka has really put me behind schedule.” And so Sasami continued to wash dishes while Yosho sat silently in the other room, pondering the ultimate fate of her sister. Masato could not sleep. He went over everything again in his mind. Kiyone had received a communique from Jorai through the Galaxy Police, notifying her that no one matching Specter’s description had been apprehended in the last few days. It was assumed that he was still at large. The communique went on to say that their inside man in the Jorai Liberation Army had discovered that the organization had biographical information of everyone in the Masaki household. So, Specter invariably knew what he was up against. That was why Masato was confused. Why did he keep coming? Surely he would realize that he, Tenchi, Kiyone and Mihoshi could protect Aeka. Why would he continue with a lost cause? A man like that would not continue with a project unless he was sure he could do it. What kind of tricks did he have up his sleeve? Why hadn’t he made a move yet? With Aeka guarded around the clock, it was feasible to assume that any point in the last three days would have been just as good as any other to mount an offensive. Either Specter truly had given up, or was planning something that no one had thought of yet. Masato assumed it was the latter. Masato thought back to the report that the messenger had handed to Aeka, and about the photo. The image of Specter still haunted his mind. Those eyes, like two spherical glaciers that plunged into his very being like frostbite. What was a man like that truly capable of? The file had been perfectly clear; Hotaro’s men had said that the target was the princess of Jorai. So where was he? No one could possibly take this much time, even if they were the most careful person in the world. Masato’s mind reeled. This was the most trying and draining task he had ever taken on. His stomach growled slightly. How long had it been since he had eaten one of Sasami’s home-cooked meals? He wondered what she had made for dinner that night. Just then he rocketed up from his makeshift bedroll as the horrifying answer came to him. “Oh, God,” he whispered. “The princess of Jorai!” On the steps of the shrine, Kiyone felt a rush of air across her face as she saw the blurred, sprinting form of Masato fly past her. “What’s going on?” she shouted after him. Masato did not deviate from his course. He only shouted, “We’re guarding the wrong person! He’s after Sasami!” Yosho sat silently on the couch, listening to the rhythmic clinking of the dishes as Sasami placed them back in the cupboard. The past few days had seem him in a constant state of silent worry, Aeka’s life constantly in the balance. While others believed that Masato had overreacted, he was concerned with whether or not he could do enough. He heard the door open behind him. “Back so soon, Ryoko?” he asked. “That didn’t take too--” His words were cut short when a blow to the back of his head sent him sprawling onto the couch, unconscious. “Is Ryoko back already?” asked Sasami from the kitchen. Not hearing an answer she turned from her task to address Yosho again, only to find herself face to face with a man she remembered from a photo. How could she forget those eyes? “Who are you?” Sasami asked as she backed into the corner. Ryo’oki began hissing loudly in a vain attempt to discourage the aggressor. The man said nothing. He only stared at her further, his cold, lifeless eyes penetrating her very soul. He then reached behind him and procured a pistol, and proceeded to level it at Sasami. Sasami could only watch helplessly as the sights of the pistol lined up with one of the chilling eyes, the muzzle pointed right at one of her own. Sasami screamed in terror as the first of the shots rang out. When she opened her eyes she was sure she was dead. She looked to where the man had been standing, only to find him on the floor, his blood leaking onto the linoleum. Behind him stood Masato, his blaster leveled, emptied, but with him still clicking the trigger. His eyes were wide, as if he had just seen death itself. His knees shook and his jaw trembled. The first one into the room was Washu, who had heard the volley of shots from her laboratory. She looked at the body on the floor, then at Sasami, then at Masato. He eyes opened wide as she realized what Masato had figured out a few precious moments ago. Kiyone suddenly appeared behind her, followed closely by Tenchi, Mihoshi and Aeka, who gave a loud gasp. Kiyone stepped beside her former partner, who was still gripped with dread. She placed her hand on his blaster and lowered it. “It’s okay,” she said softly. “It’s over now. It’s over.” Masato dropped his blaster clattering to the floor. He fell to his knees, barely able to breathe. “Are you alright, Sasami?” Aeka asked as she helped her sister to her feet. “Aeka, I was so scared!” she said, holding her tightly. Masato breathed deeply as he saw Sasami embrace her sister. It was over. Masato sat across from Yosho in the living room, a cup of tea in his trembling hand. Yosho clasped the ice pack firmly to his bruised head. “How did you know?” asked Yosho. “To be honest, I’m not sure how it came to me,” said Masato. “I guess I just know the type. Maybe after being among people like that for four years you begin to develop a sixth sense. It’s just that nothing was adding up. The fact that he wasn’t after Aeka at all seemed to be the only scenario that made sense. And there’s only one other princess of Jorai on this planet. Thank God I was right in time.” “Yes, most fortunate,” said Yosho. “But why didn’t we hear anything?” asked Sasami. “Washu, didn’t you say that you had motion detectors or something around the shrine? When Masato ran down the stairs, why didn’t they go off?” “That’s easy,” said Washu. “The sensors were calibrated to be so sensitive that I could only make them work if it registered motion from one direction, that is, going towards the shrine. If it were moving away from the shrine or on a tangent, it didn’t pick up. Besides, otherwise, if it picked up all the motion, it would be going off all the time.” At that time, Kiyone stepped in through the door. “I placed a call to the Joraian authorities,” she reported. “I told them that the princess is safe. Both of them are.” “Wow,” Sasami marveled as she stared at Masato. “You really saved my life...” Ryo’oki jumped down from Sasami’s head and into Masato’s lap, meowing happily. Masato stroked the cabbit behind the ear. He looked at Sasami again, who was still staring. Kori used to look at him the same way, sometimes. A loud noise startled everyone, and they turned their attention to the door. Ryoko swaggered in, her newly purchased bottle of sake already half empty. “Heyyy! I’m back!” she shouted a bit too loudly. “What’d I miss?” Later that night on the balcony, Masato stared into the lake, which reflected the starlight. He was still in shock from the events that had unfolded. Did he really figure it out? Did he really kill Specter? Did he really save Sasami’s life? The answer to the latter was far from pleasing: barely. “He was so close,” he said to the lake. “So close...” The door opened behind him, and he turned to see Aeka step onto the balcony. She stepped silently and approached, stopping at the railing and turning to face the water. “Thank you,” she said. “He was so close,” Masato repeated. “But you stopped him,” Aeka said triumphantly. “You saved Sasami’s life.” The two stared in silence at the shimmering surface of the pond for several minutes. In both of their minds, they could not help but remember what had happened the last time they had been alone on the balcony. “How do you do it, Masato?” Aeka asked suddenly. “Do what?” asked Masato. “It seems lately like every time I or someone I care about is in trouble, you risk everything and rush to the rescue. And you always end up saving someone. How do you do that?” she asked again. Masato could not answer that. There was no answer. “Maybe I can’t help it,” he said as he turned to Aeka with a sarcastic look on his face. “Maybe I was sent down from heaven to protect you!” Aeka giggled at his response. The two stared at each other. “I just wish there was something I could do to pay you back for all you’ve done. I mean, you saved my life. You saved Sasami’s. How can I possibly--” Aeka stopped speaking as Masato’s finger covered her mouth. “You know what I’m going to say,” he said as he brought his finger back down to his side. Aeka smiled. “I guess so,” she said. She remained and stared at the lake with Masato for another hour before they went to their respective beds for the night. That night, for the first time in many years, Masato slept straight through until morning.