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No Need for Masculinity	By : Richard_Priapi Category: +S to Z > Tenchi Muyo Views: 501 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
“Hi… Amaya, right?”
Ten-chan wasn’t strictly being polite. The performer had changed her outfit once more, the only thing that gave her away as she sat at the bar being her movements: each sized to be seen from the cheap seats.
“That’s me, honey.” Tenchi withered under the bored glance Amaya only half sent her way under a narrow band of shockingly purple eyeliner. “Hate to tell you, but I’m more into guys.” She turned back to her drink, dimly aware of the psychic damage her remark was doing. Amaya drained the glass and looked skyward as she slid it to the barback. “Sorry, that was shitty of me. I’ve always got a minute for a fan.” She spoke the way she moved- every syllable was big and bright and so full of energy. She pasted a plastic smile over lips still in their latest bubblegum-pink coating. “What can I do for you, doll?”
She clenched her teeth to keep the smile in place as Ten-chan fidgeted and tried to push out real, human words.
“I just wanted to say your show was… amazing. And it’s the first time I’ve seen another… another girl like me. And the way you make everything look so beautiful… I’m glad it was you.”

Amaya shook the growing liquor fog loose from her head, hoop earrings flying, and zoned herself in. Taking another look, she noticed the boyish cut of Techi’s hair, just barely growing long enough to reach her forehead. And the half-fitting hand-me-downs. And the sensible loafers that probably went to this kid’s school uniform. Her smile shrank, softened, and spread back to her eyes.
“Oh my god, you’re just a baby. Come on sister, sit! Can I get you a drink?”
Ten-chan shyly scratched her cheek.
“I actually can’t…”
“NO worries, doll. Hey Chihiro, champagne for me, please, kaythaaanks.” She turned back to… to…
“What’s your name, kid?”
That blush. That pause. It hurt the heart- the kid hadn’t found her name?
“Ten…chi.”
Amaya winced, grateful that a flute of champagne had chosen that moment to appear in front of her.
“Well come on, Tenchi: let’s take this talk to go. I’ll give you some pointers.”
--
“Tenchi, kid, I don’t know how to tell you this. That walk has to go.”
“Wh-what are you talking about?”
“At best that’s a butch lesbian’s walk. You want to keep that haircut?”
“No.”
“Then use those hips!” She threw hers with each sashaying step. She laughed at Tenchi’s awkward wiggling.
“Nonsense. You ever seen a hentai, Tenchi?”
“Uhhhhh,”
“Walk like hentai bitches, Tenchi.”
Or an incorrigible space pirate.
“Yes! Yes, that’s it! That sultry slide, you got it! Shimmy, shim-may!”
--
“I’m telling you, you have to have a drink. My treat! There’s a convenience store right there.”
“That’s very kind, but I don’t even know what I’d want.”
“Lemon Chu-hai it is. Bye-eeeeee!”
A semiconscious salaryman leered at her while she waited. Hesitantly she returned his gaze with a nod and a tiny little wave. His smile threatened to split his head; he raised a can in a toast before shambling off.
“Catch!”
Still eyeing the path the man had wandered off in, Tenchi snatched the can out of the air without looking.
“Wow, Tenchi, that catch was ah-may-zing! You on the softball team back home?”
--
Amaya’s words bumped into each other as she spoke now.
“You know, Ten-chan, I’m impressed you came here by yourself. I can’t tell you how many friends I gained and lost coming here before I was ready to go okama-ippiki in public!”
“And an okama is….”
The dancer’s eyes threatened to lose themselves in the back of her head.
“Honey, you have got to wash the hayseed out of your hair. Gah- hips, Tenchi, hips!”
--
“Amaya… those guys looking at us.”
“Let them look, they’d be lucky if we looked back.” She cut off hotly.
Tenchi quavered.
“I don’t think they’re exactly checking us out. Well, maybe you. They’ve been mostly glowering at me.”
“Tenchi. Ten-chan. You, with the face, right here with me. Those men are animals, and they can smell two fucking things: weakness and trannies like us.”
Tenchi stood aghast. “But… Isn’t this the-“ out of habit she lowered her voice, “Gay district?”
Amaya considered her strange little protégé.
“Just because you’re queer doesn’t mean the gays will accept you. Walk down this road, walk it openly, and you’ll be catching hell from both sides, straight and gay and whatever the hell middle looks at us and sees one little shred of difference more than they can stomach. I need you to look at me, look me dead in my eyes and tell me. Are you strong enough to handle that?”
Right now, two 7-11 chu-hais in after leaving the club, Amaya looked scarier than the whole Juraian space navy. Tenchi chuckled wryly. If they hadn’t been so tough…
“Definitely.”
“Queen! Your eyes are on fire right now. Ooh I can believe it! Now where to?”
“I… I think we missed the last train.”
“Oh girl, we absolutely did. Now where to?”
“I could go for a curry?”
--
Ten-chan wobbled. Somehow Amaya had talked her into feeding a beer vending machine some of her pocket money and those beers hadn’t not been as strong as she thought they wouldn’t have been.
“You don’t get it, you’re so pretty and confident and fuck how do you even wear those things in public?”
She ran a hand through her all-too-short hair, trying to suck all the air from the neighboring blocks.
“Ten-chan, did you just swear?”
The country girl clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, shit, do not tell my dad. I mean, fuck, no, I mean bless us… gods bless…”
Amaya cackled. With difficulty, and with beer, she fought her jovial nature down.
“Tenchi girl, you don’t get it. This outfit, this… this me? It is as much performance art as it is who I am. You a big hog for the spotlight?”
Tenchi blushed, looking down at the beer held in two hands. Amaya continued in a countryfied accent.
“Were you more of a serious, down-to earth country boy?”
Tenchi looked at her uncertainly. There were two of her, after all. She allowed herself a coquettish smile.
“All work and no play, that’s me.”
“Then honey, you are a serious, down to earth country girl now. Dress that look.” She stopped er posturing for a moment, the tension of the serious advice draining away. “I gotta go. There any cops around?”
“What?”
“Look left, look right. Are there cops?”
“No, but-“
Amaya hoisted her skirt.
“What are you doing?” Tenchi squealed, spinning around to avoid the view.
“Enjoying the one good thing I got from my father.”
--
“This is where you’re staying?” Amaya could scarcely keep the incredulity from her voice.
“Not exactly. I have a friend who works here. She’ll get me home.”
Amaya eyed the garish travesty of a sign, fingering a loose ringlet of hair.
“So is it… like a fetish bar? Because I know the girls who work those and honey, your friend needs to get out.”
“No, no! It’s a… It’s for… I think it’s easier if I show you.

They scaled the steps to the office quickly- at least as quickly as any hangover would let them- and Ten-chan ushered her new friend into Little Washu’s Big Changes. Mihoshi was standing behind the counter.
“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Amaya clapped. “I get it. It’s a queer boutique! Tenchi, your friend here is killing it. Like, just literally killing. Where’d you get those breast forms? They look so real!”
Mihoshi was as delighted as ever.
“Tenchi! You made a friend on your first day in town, that’s amazing! And you- oh I just love those heels!”
For a moment they swapped compliments in a dizzying tete-a-tete. Then Mihoshi leaned against the counter.
“Actually, these are real.”
Amaya paused, looking from Tenchi to Mihoshi.
“Tenchi, if this is a fetish bar, I swear to any available god-“
“No, no! Amaya, look at the walls! And Mihoshi doesn’t work here. Washu should be-”
“Oh, is Mihoshi-neechan a client then? Or- Tenchi.” Amaya gasped, scandalized. She took in the posters decorating the wall. Among them were two shots of Tenchi, clearly taken candidly from behind cover. One was marked “before.” The other? After. Amaya threw her hands up, stalked in a short circle.
“How did I miss it? This is your doctor! Oh, those pics are amazing! That is a glow-up for sure. You know I almost wouldn’t believe they were both you if it weren’t for those pretty eyes.”
Amaya rubbed at her own Adam’s apple as she looked at Tenchi’s portraits. Something picked at her. The foliage behind Tenchi in both pictures was teeming with summer greenery.
“You having any side effects?”
Tenchi looked to Mihoshi, who only shrugged.
“No. No, none, really. Why?”
“How long have you been on HRT? What’s she got you taking? How much?
“How long have I… been on what?”
Amaya paused. She could swear she smelt burnt toast. Her hands churned the air like she was blowing away the smell.
“Wait. You are trans. Right?”
“Yes! Yes, definitely.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“They don’t just… give this shit out like titty skittles, Ten. You have to know what you’re taking.”
Tenchi shrugged. Hepfully, she began- “Not really. Washu is really great, all you have to do is-“
Mihoshi cut in.
“I can tell things are getting a little heated in here! Why, there’s just nothing to worry about. I only heard about Tenchi’s transition last week and already she’s changed so much!” Amaya held her hand up to Mihoshi’s face. Mihoshi’s ocean-blue eyes fell.
“But-“
“Hush. When. Did. You. Start. To. Transition?” She punctuated each statement with a clap, nails clicking.
“Ju…ly?”
“It is still July. No way.” One of Amaya’s sharp nails swung like a scythe to the pictures. There is zero way you went from that to this in this same actual calendar month. Is that your brother in that before photo, or is it old as shit?”
“Neither! Washu is-“
“Riiiight here! Come in, come in, don’t be shy. Any friend of our Ten-chan is a friend of little Washu!”
Tenchi breathed a sigh of relief that the diminutive intellectual had passed up her nurse’s outfit for her regular lab clothes- with the minor affectation of a common labcoat. If anyone could clear things up… it probably was not Washu, actually. She braced for impact.
Amaya was nonplussed. The cotton candy dwarf for a doctor, the blonde bombshell as reception, and this little… something as a patient?
“Finally, a medical professional,” Amaya cooed breathily, putting on her most kowtowing voice. She did her best to ignore that hair, but made a note to style a new wig later.
“What have you got my girl on, here? She says all this happened in a month, so either she is having mental side effects like I have never seen- and that’s not just because I can’t afford regular treatment- or at least one of you is a liar.”
Washu took on a sympathetic smile, her voice as calm as a vet cornering a deranged cat.
“No lies here! I, Little Washu, am out to provide the very best in transgender healthcare, starting with bleeding-edge treatment never before seen on this planet! And Tenchi here is my very first success story. You want to be the second?”
Amaya snarled, her voice dropping nearly an octave. When she spoke, it came out coarse.
“Touch me and pull back a stump. What quack bullshit are you selling?”
Washu hopped into the air, coming to rest on a barely visible pad of… air? Amaya’s eye twitched, long lashes moving like windshield wipers.
“Specifically? Gene therapy, nanotech, or I can always synthesize some pills for you if you’re more comfortable taking the long road. Satisfaction guaranteed or your money back!”
Amaya let out a grinding wail of frustration. It couldn’t be. Literally could. Not. Be. But here was a Trans girl reporting no side effects and her doctor was floating. She touched the air and images burst to life, models of molecules and tiny robots and DNA strands.

Amaya’s eyes burnt with Jealousy looking at Tenchi’s before picture. How many shows had she worked and not gotten halfway to affording even a vocal cord shave? How many clipboard-wielding labcoats had talked circles around her and pushed her out of an office without the medicines she needed before she found one that would give her the bare minimum. Three months, and she just saw the start of a real goddamn titty on Saturday night.
“Amaya…” Tenchi hesitantly reached a hand towards her new friend’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”
The tone that had worked so many miracles for Tenchi the man did not line up for Ten-chan the woman.
Amaya slapped her away. Mihoshi’s hand instinctively reached for a pistol she had forgotten in the cupholder of her ship. Washu observed behind steepled fingers, crossed her legs.
“So what, she just snaps her fingers, and you’re good to go?”
“Well…”
Amaya’s roar was guttural.
“You have the guts to come to me and ask me for advice like we share the same struggle, like we’re, seesters,” she put so much venom in the word she practically spat it, “Like you know the first thing about going through hell for who you are? What about those pretty eyes? Your fucking wizard friend give you those too?”
Quiet. Sharp, stiff quiet. Tenchi puffed out her chest, standing as tall as she could. Those pretty eyes were watering.
“I got those from mom.”
Amaya picked up a plastic cutaway model of a pelvis and penis on the reception counter, hurling it into the glass frame of a nearby poster. Wordlessly she stomped past the broken glass, head down, and slammed the door on this farcical morning.
- 7
- 8
- 9
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No Need for Masculinity