Altered States

by Angela     

 

Ryoko was restless.  It was almost six in the morning, judging by the fading stars and the pale glow in the eastern sky, but she hadn't been to bed and wasn't even tired.  She lay on the roof, gazing into the dark sky, thinking of Tenchi and Haruna as the mist of her own breath settled over her cheeks.  It was a cold night—the blanket wrapped around her body did little to cut the chill—but Ryoko didn't mind.  It was colder out in space; out there she didn't have the warm thoughts she had on Earth.

            Tenchi.  Ryoko smiled wistfully as she thought of him.  He'd changed a lot in the six months he'd been with Haruna.  Of course, during that half-year he had collected three years' worth of memories.  Ryoko sighed, realizing again that he could live just fine without her, for that long and maybe longer.  It made her lonely to know that Tenchi had lived a separate life with no influence from her or Ayeka or any of them.  It showed on his face now, in his voice and his actions.

            He was older and more mature, more self-assured about what he wanted out of his life.  It was a little scary.  Even though he had existed just seventeen years, he had lived twenty.  Ryoko had known that one day her Tenchi would grow up and make the decisions of a man rather than those of a boy, but she hadn't expected to be deprived of three years of that growth in just six months.

            She laughed out loud.  She sounded like a mother.  It was funny, though—sometimes she did mother Tenchi, but that ultimately wasn't what she wanted to be to him.  When he left them, he'd been so childlike.  Ryoko was pretty sure he'd never really even kissed a girl before.  Haruna changed that—Tenchi certainly wasn't the innocent kid he'd been.

            Ryoko had noticed it at once.  In the few short seconds she'd been able to watch him, she could see his newfound sexuality in the way he walked, the way he wrapped his arm around Haruna's waist that day in the rain.  It made her shiver beneath her skin, thinking of Tenchi like that.  She'd teased him about sex for years, but the reality of him as a physical man with needs and desires, that was almost more than she could handle without a stiff drink.

            She thought she'd be more jealous, but found herself relieved.  Maybe Tenchi needed someone Haruna, needed a fleeting first love before moving on to the sterner stuff that Ryoko was offering.  She sat up, wrapping her arms around her knees.  He'd rejected her advances for so long now, she'd almost stopped making them.  She pretended to take his protests in stride, but it always hurt a little, being reminded that he was still too young to want her.

            Now that he knew what he was missing, would he still reject her?  Ryoko thought not.  Ayeka seemed to have stepped aside, and in the weeks that had passed since Tenchi returned, he spoke of Haruna less and less.  Ryoko had assumed that his split with Haruna had been a mutual choice; he was certainly forgetting her quickly enough.  Maybe it was a side effect of the Juraian energy she'd used to brainwash him.  Since he came back, Tenchi almost seemed to favor Ryoko, though she wasn't sure of that.  She smiled fiercely, imagining the possibility of Tenchi's kisses, his hands on her skin.  It made her feel like she'd been drinking sake all night.

            The space pirate materialized outside Tenchi's bedroom door, still not completely sure that this was a good idea.  She took a deep breath.  They were both getting too old for this game—if he didn't respond this time, she'd have to stop trying.  Firming up her resolve, she poked her head through the heavy wood of the door.

            His room was dark—the pale glow from the window supplied the only illumination.  Ryoko could see enough to know that Tenchi was still fast asleep beneath his heavy down comforter.  Coming through the door, she floated silently to his side, hovering over him as she studied his face.

            He looked beautiful.  She'd seen him sleep a hundred times before, but somehow this was different.  He was older.  His newly cut hair stuck out at all angles, contrasting sharply with the firm curve of his jaw and the broad expanse of his shoulders.  Ryoko felt a familiar stirring of attraction deep in her belly.  Tenchi had always evoked that reaction, but lately more than ever.

            "Good morning, my Tenchi," Ryoko whispered softly, moving close to his face so she could feel his warm breath on her cheeks.  It was amazing how close she had come to losing him; Ryoko could hardly believe that he was safe at home.

            Just as she was about to touch his face, Tenchi moved.  Mumbling sleepy nonsense, he turned beneath the covers.  Ryoko flew back, not wanting to be seen if he opened his eyes.  Her heart was pounding mercilessly.  It had to be perfect—she wanted to seduce him from his slumber, not scare him to death and get herself kicked out.  Again.

            Ryoko dropped effortlessly to the floor, not noticing the can of paintbrushes beneath her.  She tipped the can with her foot, flinching at the clatter of metal and the rolling sound of the brushes on the hard wood floor.  In a panic, she glanced at Tenchi.  Surely this would wake him.

            Growling something about carrots, Tenchi ran his hand through his hair, scratched his head, then settled quietly back into sleep.  A tiny smile graced his lips.

            A matching smile settled on Ryoko's as she let her breath out slowly.  That was too close.  She knelt on the floor, silently retrieving the spilled brushes.  So Tenchi had started painting as well as drawing?  She wanted to see his work.

            Scanning the room, Ryoko quickly noticed a canvas under a drape, leaned against the far wall.  She flew over to it, excited to see what Tenchi's artistic skill looked like.  She lifted the cloth, but couldn't see in the dimness.

            She sat on the floor, and with a tiny twist of her wrist, held a tiny ball of chi in her hand.  It was enough to illuminate the canvas before her—the pale light flickered like a sparkler.

            The picture was unfinished—a deep gray background with the initial sketches of Grandfather drawn over it.  He was very good.  This drawing of Yosho looked exactly like the ageing shrine caretaker. 

            Carefully draping the sheet back over the portrait of Grandfather, Ryoko pulled the painting away from the wall, checking to see if another rested behind it.  It was smaller, and also covered by a soft sheet.  Ryoko pulled it out carefully, not moving its cover until she had it completely free of the other.

            She gasped softly, staring at the portrait in front of her.  It was of herself, smiling delightedly on the steps of the shrine.  It was springtime—blooming cherry trees framed the picture, stray petals blowing past her face.  Ryoko had never seen a more flattering picture—Tenchi made her look beautiful.  She wore a pale pink kimono—almost the same pink of the flower petals—and the wind blew through her hair.

            Ryoko glanced shakily to where Tenchi lay sleeping. 

            "When I draw, I feel things I lost touch with, but are still there in my heart."  She remembered his words perfectly, even though it'd been over a week since they'd had that conversation on the hill.  Ryoko smiled happily, extinguishing her small light.  That meant she was in Tenchi's heart.

            After tenderly replacing the sheet, Ryoko slipped the painting back into its place behind the portrait of Yosho.  She wondered if he was planning on showing it to her.  For a fleeting moment she felt guilty for sneaking through his things, but it didn't last.  She might never see that portrait again—better than she knew about it now.

            Floating silently to the bed, Ryoko studied him, still fast asleep.  He wasn't the same Tenchi she'd known all these years, that was for sure.  Still, life was hardly a static thing; she was probably not completely like the space pirate who crash-landed there so long ago.  They'd talked a lot since his stay with Haruna, and Ryoko had found herself falling in love with young man he'd grown into.  She loved him as much as she loved the boy he had been; they were, after all, both Tenchi.

            Landing lightly on the tips of her toes, Ryoko leaned over the bed.  She didn't feel like seducing him anymore—it was better to let him sleep, to let whatever might be growing between them evolve slowly and naturally.  They did, after all, have the rest of their lives for that.

            Tenchi sighed in his sleep, nestling more comfortably into his pillow.  Ryoko was captivated.  She watched his mouth; it opened slightly as he breathed.  One little kiss wouldn't hurt, she reasoned.  He wouldn't even wake up—not from a tiny peck.

            Her heart thudding wildly in her chest, she leaned down, brushing her lips against his.  It was the first time they'd ever kissed, and Ryoko wasn't prepared for the electric shockwave that came with the feel of his soft mouth.  Pulling back slightly, she stared down at him, wondering if he'd felt it too, somewhere in his dreams.

            She was startled when his hand reached around her head, pulling her close for another kiss.  This one was different—Ryoko closed her eyes as Tenchi captured her mouth with his.  His kiss was hungry, devouring her with tenderness that brought moisture to her eyes.  Ryoko touched his cheek, not sure if this was real or some lucid fantasy.

            She pulled away slowly, aware that Tenchi didn't open his eyes or speak.  He was still asleep.  A blush stained her cheeks.  He was probably dreaming about Haruna, thinking it was her that he kissed so thoroughly.  Ryoko touched her lips with her fingertips, aware of Tenchi's warmth lingering on them.  She'd never realized that she could feel a kiss all the way down to her toes.

            She turned to go, wondering if she would be able to face him at breakfast.  Surely he wouldn't remember, but Ryoko had a feeling that her face would betray her, that she wouldn't be able to look at him without remembering his taste and wondering when she'd get a chance to kiss him again.

            "Ryoko?"

            She froze in her tracks, halfway to the door.  She'd never heard Tenchi's voice sound so soft.

            "Yes, Tenchi?"  She didn't turn around, couldn't let him see her with her face so red.  Her body was shaking with fear and panic.  Had he been awake the whole time?

            "I know you'll understand," he began quietly.  "Ryoko . . . I'm just not ready yet, but soon . . ."  His voice faded.  It was hard for him to say it, too.

            Ryoko smiled, tears filling her eyes.  "I understand, Tenchi," she whispered, her erratic heartbeat suddenly calm.  "I'll wait for you."

            She heard the exhalation of his breath, a tiny sigh that gave her courage.  She turned her head slightly.  He was watching her through the dimness.

            "Thank you," he whispered, smiling.  "I can always count on you to understand me, Ryoko."

            She silently agreed.