Fic: Cold Comfort (Tenchi Muyo!, PG)
Title: Cold Comfort
Rating: PG, mild language
Fandom: Tenchi Muyo! (OAV/Okuda manga)
Subject: Washu Hakubi and Yume
Theme(s): #21 - common ground
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. Yume would be more well known to casual Tenchi Muyo fans otherwise. :P
Summary: She wasn't very good at saying “I'm sorry”. She tended to get frustrated instead.
Notes: Alludes to "Here Comes Jurai 2" (the audio and stills after the credits of OAV episode 13) and a particular character's death in No Need for Tenchi Vol. 6.
Washu didn't speak one word the whole trip back from Ryuten.
No one asked. No one wanted to. It was as if they sensed the images that flickered behind the scientist's eyes... Yume's tear-strained face and quivering hands, now permanently engraved as a stern reminder of the folly of dangerous minds.
It all hit a bit too close to home.
As soon as they arrived back, Washu smashed the video camera against the floor. Plastic and tape skidded across the lab, bumping against her slippers as if mocking her. It could have been you, it could have been you. She angrily crunched the camera lens under her heel.
She wasn't very good at saying “I'm sorry”. She tended to get frustrated instead.
She left the shattered remains where they fell: in the back of the lab and the back of her mind. A constant reminder that yes, she too was capable of getting carried away.
--
Later, much later...
“Primitive pile of junk,” Yume muttered, nudging the abandoned heap of plastic with the edge of her boot. “Why do you even keep this here, anyway?”
Washu turned sharply in her seat and swore under breath. She had forgotten the pile was there. Irritated, the vindictive words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them. “The same reason you had Takashima's mask half-hidden in your quarters.”
Yume's boot froze in mid-air. Washu winced, immediately ashamed of her impulse. Dammit.
However, her colleague remained thankfully silent. The redhead looked on grimly as the other woman bent and lifted part of the shattered tape from its resting place, inspecting the partial label that remained. She could almost see the dots connecting in Yume's mind.
They were both quiet for so long, the abrupt thack as the tape clattered back to the floor came as a surprise. As did...
Bzzzap!
Washu was off her cushion in seconds, grabbing for the disintergrator pistol Yume had pulled from the folds of her dress. “Hey! You have no right to...”
“I buried the mask.”
Startled, she dropped her grip on Yume's arm as if it was a hotrod. “What?”
“We buried it.” The arm was still outstretched, pistol aimed levelly at the now empty corner of the floor. She avoided Washu's eyes. “Hishima and I. We took it back to Ryuten, to the same spot that Mushima fell.”
“But why... I mean, you told me you wanted to be reminded...”
“I am reminded.” Yume's voice hardened considerably, but didn't raise. “Everyday, every time I look Hishima in the eye. I can see it. And I know that despite everything, he'd make the exact same choice as Takashima did. It forces me to be...” She paused then, choosing her words carefully. “... forces me to be mindful. I don't need a keepsake.”
Her arm dropped and she finally, finally looked Washu in the eye. “Don't think I haven't noticed how she avoids you. Every time you walk into the same room, she looks for any excuse to get away. The resentment, the distrust, the fear on her face...”
Washu clinched her fists. “Shut up.”
Yume just smirked and ignored her. “Every time. That's reminder enough, don't you think?” She tucked the pistol back into her dress. “Don't overdo it. You didn't need that crap anymore than I needed the mask.”
And she left Washu there, alone and staring at the empty corner.
I'm not very good at saying “I'm sorry”...
She heard the scrape of metal-clad boots against the lab floor as they left, an unspoken response carried with them: That's okay, I'm not either.
Notes: I can't tell you how many ungodly angsty post-"Here Comes Jurai 2" fics I've read with Washu and Ryoko. Oi.
The overwhelming emotional trauma TM fandom assigns to the incident is a bit much. However, I disliked the flippant way Okuda just brushed it off. So I decided to go for a different angle... After all, if anyone can understand and forgive Washu for what she did, it would be Yume.
Prompt List (and brief description of Yume's character for those unfamiliar with the Hitoshi Okuda manga)
Rating: PG, mild language
Fandom: Tenchi Muyo! (OAV/Okuda manga)
Subject: Washu Hakubi and Yume
Theme(s): #21 - common ground
Disclaimer: Not mine, unfortunately. Yume would be more well known to casual Tenchi Muyo fans otherwise. :P
Summary: She wasn't very good at saying “I'm sorry”. She tended to get frustrated instead.
Notes: Alludes to "Here Comes Jurai 2" (the audio and stills after the credits of OAV episode 13) and a particular character's death in No Need for Tenchi Vol. 6.
Washu didn't speak one word the whole trip back from Ryuten.
No one asked. No one wanted to. It was as if they sensed the images that flickered behind the scientist's eyes... Yume's tear-strained face and quivering hands, now permanently engraved as a stern reminder of the folly of dangerous minds.
It all hit a bit too close to home.
As soon as they arrived back, Washu smashed the video camera against the floor. Plastic and tape skidded across the lab, bumping against her slippers as if mocking her. It could have been you, it could have been you. She angrily crunched the camera lens under her heel.
She wasn't very good at saying “I'm sorry”. She tended to get frustrated instead.
She left the shattered remains where they fell: in the back of the lab and the back of her mind. A constant reminder that yes, she too was capable of getting carried away.
--
Later, much later...
“Primitive pile of junk,” Yume muttered, nudging the abandoned heap of plastic with the edge of her boot. “Why do you even keep this here, anyway?”
Washu turned sharply in her seat and swore under breath. She had forgotten the pile was there. Irritated, the vindictive words slipped from her mouth before she could stop them. “The same reason you had Takashima's mask half-hidden in your quarters.”
Yume's boot froze in mid-air. Washu winced, immediately ashamed of her impulse. Dammit.
However, her colleague remained thankfully silent. The redhead looked on grimly as the other woman bent and lifted part of the shattered tape from its resting place, inspecting the partial label that remained. She could almost see the dots connecting in Yume's mind.
They were both quiet for so long, the abrupt thack as the tape clattered back to the floor came as a surprise. As did...
Bzzzap!
Washu was off her cushion in seconds, grabbing for the disintergrator pistol Yume had pulled from the folds of her dress. “Hey! You have no right to...”
“I buried the mask.”
Startled, she dropped her grip on Yume's arm as if it was a hotrod. “What?”
“We buried it.” The arm was still outstretched, pistol aimed levelly at the now empty corner of the floor. She avoided Washu's eyes. “Hishima and I. We took it back to Ryuten, to the same spot that Mushima fell.”
“But why... I mean, you told me you wanted to be reminded...”
“I am reminded.” Yume's voice hardened considerably, but didn't raise. “Everyday, every time I look Hishima in the eye. I can see it. And I know that despite everything, he'd make the exact same choice as Takashima did. It forces me to be...” She paused then, choosing her words carefully. “... forces me to be mindful. I don't need a keepsake.”
Her arm dropped and she finally, finally looked Washu in the eye. “Don't think I haven't noticed how she avoids you. Every time you walk into the same room, she looks for any excuse to get away. The resentment, the distrust, the fear on her face...”
Washu clinched her fists. “Shut up.”
Yume just smirked and ignored her. “Every time. That's reminder enough, don't you think?” She tucked the pistol back into her dress. “Don't overdo it. You didn't need that crap anymore than I needed the mask.”
And she left Washu there, alone and staring at the empty corner.
I'm not very good at saying “I'm sorry”...
She heard the scrape of metal-clad boots against the lab floor as they left, an unspoken response carried with them: That's okay, I'm not either.
Notes: I can't tell you how many ungodly angsty post-"Here Comes Jurai 2" fics I've read with Washu and Ryoko. Oi.
The overwhelming emotional trauma TM fandom assigns to the incident is a bit much. However, I disliked the flippant way Okuda just brushed it off. So I decided to go for a different angle... After all, if anyone can understand and forgive Washu for what she did, it would be Yume.
Prompt List (and brief description of Yume's character for those unfamiliar with the Hitoshi Okuda manga)