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No Need for Masculinity	By : Richard_Priapi Category: +S to Z > Tenchi Muyo Views: 505 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the various Tenchi Muyo properties, nor any of the characters herein who may be found within that canon. Originally posted to AO3, I'll be posting more proofread/edited versions of the chapters here.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Ten-chan snuggled deeper into the warmth around her. She had objected strenuously to Ryoko’s constant presence in her bed at first, but damn it all if the hedgehog of a pirate wasn’t good at wearing her down. Ryoko kicked her leg over her, and Tenchi pulled it into her like a seatbelt. Glorious. Peaceful. 9:00AM.
She bolted upright, spilling Ryoko from the bed with her.
“Smatter?Swrong?” Ryoko groused, swinging groggy fists at phantom enemies.
“Late!” Came Tenchi’s eloquent response.
Washu had arranged for them to head to Tokyo at eight.
Tenchi skittered across the room, tossing on clothes with reckless disregard for their color coordinaton.
Ryoko pressed herself to her feet with a groan.
“No no no. You are going out in public, honey.”
“Well what’s that- eep!” Tenchi’s thought was smothered in the crip as Ryoko stuffed her hand into her panties, a judicious flick of wrist and fingers smoothing out the telltale bulge under her skirt. Ryoko pressed a peck to her cheek and pierced her with an expectant look.
“Better?”
Tenchi shimmied her legs, tried a step or two. Her nod was shamefaced and she had questions about why Ryoko knew to do that, or did it so easily. But questions and dignity were for women with time. She couldn’t help noticing that the clothes Ryoko tossed at her were in the muted shades of red and black that she wore into battle. Well, so be it. Ten-chan’s first outing could use all the good luck she could get.

Ten-chan trotted out of the house with a thick slice of buttered and jellied toast dangling from her lips. Blessedly she saw her father.
“Dad! Do you still have that business trip to Tokyo coming up?”
--
The trip to Tokyo had been an arduous affair of buses and trains, but they arrived in town before evening. The two stretched their legs, which screamed in protest of long hours trapped in seats.
“Sorry, Ten. I think we might be late for Washu’s grand opening.”
Tenchi tried not to pout, which seemed too feminine, or toss back a sarcastic quip, which had the opposite problem. Instead, she grounded her thoughts.
“That’s ok. There’s still some time left in business hours, so I may as well check with her.”
“I’ll come with you. I have to admit, this whole thing has got me more than a little curious.”
“Don’t you have work?”
Nobuyuki laughed in her face.
“No, I always make my first day of these trips about travel time and settling in. More than enough time to iron out home designs tomorrow. You have the address?”
Tenchi pulled out a notepad and nodded.
--
The second ward of Shinjuku was proving strangely difficult to find. Not that Shinjuku station had vanished on them- but as they got further from it, the unfamiliar part of town stretched into that liminal city space of flashing lights and twisting alleys.
“No worries,” Nobuyuki had reassured her. “We can always ask directions.” Nobuyuki’s easy smile had faded when by the third refusal to solicit directions. Two salarymen had brushed him off with little more than dirty looks, and the college-aged worker he had asked last confusingly called him a pervert.
“Do you think I should give it a try?” Tenchi asked.
Her father shrugged, doubt building. “Worth a try, so- Ten-chan.”

To the elder Masaki’s abject humiliation, she hit it in one.
“Excuse me,” she had called, running a hand demurely across her mousy hair. The man stopped. “I’m looking for an address in the Ni-Chome… you couldn’t point me the right way, could you?”
The man eyed her in the golden afternoon light.
“What do you need over that way?”
Tenchi faltered. How to begin explaining? At her hesitation, the man smiled knowingly.
“No worries, I’m a regular there. You have a pen?”

After the little transaction was concluded, the Masakis shared a puzzled look. Still, directions were directions. They set out.
--
“Unbelievable!” Washu shouted.
“Astonishing!” “Unconscionable!” moaned the puppets on her shoulders.
“Slow day?” Tenchi hazarded.
Washu spun in a standard swivel chair, groaning.
“I took out an ad in the papers and everything, but you two are my first visitors all day!”

The frustration was partially understandable. The little medical practice was on a main street, clearly visible from the road. Parking was average for Tokyo, which meant maybe two clients could find a place within a few blocks. Of course, the sign was a fifteen foot glowing portrait of Washu, its caption reading “Little Washu’s Big Changes: Love your skin, no matter what!” It left perhaps too much to the imagination.
The inside, thankfully, was more tasteful. It looked like nearly any other waiting room, with posters explaining different systems of male and female anatomy and showcasing opportunities for their adjustment in good, plain Japanese.
“It is only your first day.” Nobuyuki reassured her. “I’m sure you’ll ne up on your feet in no time. You made my Tenchi happier than I’ve seen her since her mom passed. If you can do that for every customer, you’ll have to start taking reservations before you know it.” He looked down at his watch. “Sorry Tenchi, I have to get going. Checkin in the hotel is in an hour. You’re good on your own?”
As a man, Tenchi might have been insulted that his father did not trust the son who had overcome space pirates, false arrests, spaceship battles, and sword duels with something so trivial. But as her father’s only child, and a new daughter at that, she could appreciate why he was reluctant to leave a barely eighteen year-old girl in an unfamiliar part of the big city. She reflected his reassuring smile.
“I’m not alone. Washu is here. Besides, this is Tokyo- has to be one of the safest cities on Earth.”

With a nod of newfound confidence, Nobuyuki bid the two goodbye and hustled on his way.
“Well,” Washu groused, “I’m going to head home. You ready?”
“What? I just got here!”
“Business hours are up, Ten-chan. But… I guess you could stand to explore the neighborhood. Portal’s through that door there. Anyone from the house should be able to get through it.” She tossed Tenchi the keys to the office: a humble pair of brass keys on a nauseatingly cute chibi rendition of Washu’s own grinning face. “You just take care of yourself, kay? Lock up on your way in!”
--
Tenchi didn’t think much about the first bar she passed. Few of the men lounging at its outdoor tables seemed to notice her either. The second stood out a bit; the men heading in and out of the door all seemed well-groomed and in decent shape, but also their state of dress varied between half-naked and fully suited and booted. By the third she faced the inescapable notion that Washu had been very specific about choosing where to put her office. Wishing she had brought her coat to help cover her face somewhat, she hustled along the street. Neon signs called to her: Dragon Men, Arty Farty, Goldfinger. Seeing the last populated entirely by women, she sighed in relief and approached. Then she paused- given the context, that might not be a welcome sign. She stood there with her hand on the door, and then took a breath. If advanced scientific doors that only opened for women allowed her to pass, then she had more than whatever it took to pass in this bar.

The bright lights and loud music disoriented her. All the better to hide in the corner and catch her breath. Women in a variety of shapes and sizes checked her out in passing, some coming close to apprise her while others took note of the oh-so-slight hint of peach stubble that still dotted her cheeks and peeled off. After the inanity harem her home had become, the subtle attention failed to put a blip on her radar. Had she been paying more attention to the crowd, she might have noticed an Adam’s apple or sets of broad shoulders among the attendees. As it was, she ordered a snack from the bar to munch while plotting her next move and remained engrossed in her own thoughts until the music faded.

A small stage at the front lit up in a spotlight and a woman’s cheery voice bleated out of the speaker’s.
“Good evening ladies, how are you feeling tonight?”
Gleeful screams spread across the establishment.
“Good to hear some of us are taking advantage of the all-you-can-drink set tonight. Now put ‘em together for tonight’s special guest. You know her, you love her, the one and only Amaya Iriguchi!”
The squeals of encouragement nearly made Tenchi’s ears bleed.

Her first thought about Amaya was “Whoah, that hair is big!” The enormous blond do could put Mihoshi’s to shame. Then she took in the bronze skin and the tight, figure-flattering sexy caricature of catholic school uniform: pleated skirt puffed out by petticoats, tight, sheer stockings, and the uniform shirt tied off around the midriff, hugging her flat chest. Her chunky heels were impressive for their height and how shiny- Tenchi paused. That chest. Hers had looked like that recently. For a moment Tenchi looked into Amaya’s eyes searchingly- Amaya turned, her eyes meeting hers, peering back through colorful layers of shadow. The dancer smiled and nodded. At her?

A jaunty song blared on the speakers, its odd blend of guitar, piano and brass marking it as uniquely American. Tenchi’s brain automatically dredged half-forgotten English classes. 9-2-5? 9 to 5? The academic exercise fell to the wayside when Amaya started to dance. The drag queen moved in ways Tenchi hadn’t considered possible outside of animation, and the results were hypnotic. One moment fluid grace, another raw sexuality, both frequently testing the limits of her joints and her clothes’ seams equally as her lips moved silently to the lyrics. When the music died, she slunk off stage. Tenchi’s heart raced. That was it? But no, there she was again a few minutes later, now a brunette? Wigs. No wonder, nobody could have survived the amount of hairspray it would have took to get that look on real hair.

As Amaya rolled through second performance of more recognizable J-pop, Tenchi got acclimated, found herself clapping and hooting along with the rest of the audience, carried by their palpable energy, all directed at a girl like her. It felt like her heart was going to burst, and she decided; she had to meet Amaya after the show.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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No Need for Masculinity