Author's Note: This is a continuation of my first (and untill recently, only) fanfic. Actually, this is more of a prequel. But you don't have to read that first to know what's going on. This new story has been written for noobs and long-time readers alike. So please sit back, relax, grab a drink, warm up some pizza, laugh, cry, laugh some more, and above all enjoy. And afterwards, feel free to question, comment, and constructively criticize. No Flaming! Thank you.

Preface

This is my story. A story of honor and of betrayal. Of love and of lust. Of good and evil. A woeful story about shattered dreams and how innocence is lost. A beautiful story about powerful friendships and a love that overcame all obstacles. A terrifying story about the darkness that lurks within every soul. A hopeful story about redemption and the promise of a new day. An exciting, action-packed story filled with phenomenal super-powers, evil villains, life or death struggles, climactic battle sequences, big explosions, strong language, partial nudity, and lots and lots of sexy girls!

...ahem

But it wasn't always that way.

The Legacy of Artukei

or

The Otaku Memoirs

Episode #1

Welcome to My World

"Three... two... one... Konnichiwah every-peoples, and welcome to a very special video blog! Today we have a man who's gone by such titles as The Humanoid Typhoon and The Sixty-billion Double-dollar Man. By now you of course know I'm talking about the one, the only, Mr. Vash the Stampede!" I was comfortably seated in an easy chair while my guest sat on the sofa to my right. "Say hello to our audience, Mr. Vash." But he was too busy looking around the living room like a foraging squirrel. I looked at the camera and gave a nervous laugh. Then, after checking under his seat, he cast a steely glance at me. "Something wrong?" I asked.

"I was told that there'd be refreshments," he replied sternly.

"Oh, terribly sorry," I said with a broad sheepish smile. "I almost forgot. Ozz, could you bring in the tray?" There was a soft squeak from the other side of the camera and then a small mountain of donuts floated over from off screen and landed on the coffee table. With eyes dancing, the elated Vash proceeded to dig in.

I took a moment to wipe my glasses with the hem of my shirt then looked back up at the screen. "Nice touch with TK-ing the donuts there, buddy." Ozz chirped happily as he hovered behind my shoulder. We both smiled as we relived the Vash interview while it uploaded onto my computer.

Sorry to start this story kinda in the middle, but I have my reasons. Let me get you up to speed, for those of you who don't know. My name is Artukei; that's AR-too-kay. I'm a 6'4" slash 193cm, dirty blonde haired, hazel brown eyed, blood type O+ human being. But I won't bore you with the tech specs. I live in a house in the burbs just outside of Metrolex, the great American city of the Anime Universe. I'm a freelance actor and musician, but at the time this happened I was running a video blog that featured interviews with famous anime characters. Well... famous in your dimension. Here they're just regular people.

The little guy that was running the camera is Ozz. He has a long body like a ferret, a head like a squirrel, light blue fur, big black eyes, little antennae on his head, two tiny front paws, and no back legs. Instead, just two long threadlike tails. He's a Zilder; an alien with incredible psychic abilities. He can teleport, fly, and use telekinesis. He can also read minds and create psychic force fields. He can't talk though, so he and I have a telepathic link. When he does speak it's just coos and chirps that sound like wispy, high-pitched, whizzing noises. Ozz and I are inseparable. Where-ever I go, he goes.

We watched as the interview continued. "So Mr. Vash, let me ask you. What's your opinion on the death penalty?"

"... uh."

"You know what? Stupid question. Forget I asked." Just then, a singular bong rang through the entire house. I groaned slightly, got up from my computer, and headed downstairs. I opened the front door. "Konnichiwah." And on my porch stood a young Japanese lady.

She wore extremely short cut-off jean shorts, a blue and white striped tube top, and a violet haori coat. She had light brown, almost amber eyes and the knot and tassels of a red headband hung on the side of her head through her raven hair. "Justin-san?" she asked.

"HOLY SHIT!" I exclaimed, and slammed the door. My eyes were wide with fear and I broke into a cold sweat. I knew all too well who that person was. Ozz, who had heard the outburst, flew to my side. "That wasn't who I thought it was, was it? It couldn't have been. What would she be..." My query was cut short at the sound of another bong. Ozz made an appropriate Hemingway quote. "Shut up," I replied. My hand cautiously gripped the doorknob and I slowly cracked open the door. I slid my head out and stopped when my nose was resting on the edge. "Hai?" I timidly asked. But the girl was gone. Perplexed, I stuck my whole head out and looked up and down the street for signs of my visitor. Nothing. "I think it's official this time, Ozz," I said as I closed the door. "I've been here long enough that I'm starting to lose it."

Immediately after the bolt clicked, I heard a war-cry. And before I could turn, someone had latched onto my back and put me in a headlock! "Now is that any way to greet your old boss?" they said.

I struggled to get free and fill my lungs with oxygen. "Gomenasai," I wheezed. "Hontoni gomenasai!" My assailant released me and jumped off my back. Rubbing my neck, I turned around and saw the girl. "Makoto-san?! What the hell!?!" I demanded. But she seemed oblivious to me as she observed the foyer's cathedral ceiling and the second floor's banister.

"Nice place," she finally uttered. "Look's like you're doing alright for yourself, Justin-san. This seems like a nice neighborhood too. Must be a pretty safe one for you to leave your back door unlocked."

I had almost forgotten there were people here who still knew me by that name. "What are you doing here, Makoto-san?"

"Just checking in on you. How long has it been, Justin-san? Two years? Since you left, I haven't heard a word from you. You never call, you never write."

"Yeah. You think that'd be a clue."

Let me explain who this girl is. This is Jinnai Makoto. She works as a chef at a ryokan over in the mountains of Japan. I met her a couple years ago when I took a summer job as her assistant. The want ad should've said, "Must be willing to work under a total bitch." I think that sums her up for now. "This conversation going anywhere, Makoto-san? Like, say, out the door?"

"Oh c'mon, Justin-san. Why don't we hang out a little? Have some tea, talk about old times..."

"Actually I'm really busy right now." I grabbed her shoulders and started walking her towards the door. "And besides, I've already blocked out all other memories concerning you. So why ruin a good thing?" I opened the door and she turned around and looked at me with a face of true disgust.

"You've got some nerve, Yankee. I come all the way over here to see how you're doing and I barely get a 'hello' out of you!"

"I said it when I opened the door."

"That doesn't count! And speaking of which, cursing at me and then slamming the door in my face?! Don't Americans have any decency or manners? Or is that kind of greeting typical over here?"

"Well, maybe you're just special." I started to lightly shove her.

"You know what I'm gonna do now?" she said, barring herself between the door and the entry way. "I'm going down to the city courthouse and I'm gonna file a civic complaint against you!"

"Civic complaint," I scoffed. "You're not even a citizen! Now if you don't mind, I've got work to do." I started to close the door on her, hoping she'd finally take a hint. But her expression turned fearful and she started to pry it back open.

"Nonono wait! Please, you can't make me leave!"

I stopped. Her frantic plea worried me a little. Just a teeny bit. Microscopic actually. "Why not?" I asked.

"I... I...," she stammered. Then she looked down and her voice quieted. "I've got no-where to go."

Oh no! I could see where this was going. "Well, go check into a hotel or something."

"I barely have enough money; I'm almost broke. I used most of it just getting over here to the States." Her distress nearly moved me. "I don't know anybody else here. Justin-san, you've gotta help me." She looked up at me with puppy-dog eyes. Eyes that she knew made me weak. I tried my best to remain stone faced and glanced away without batting a lash. Then she deployed her ultimate weapon. She pawed my arm and whispered to me with deep glossy eyes. "Justin-san. Tatsukete. Onegai?"

I grinded my teeth and cringed slightly. Oh, I'm gonna hate myself.

-----

As Makoto set her stuff down in the guest room, I leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, just glowering at her. I can't believe I caved! "You haven't changed a bit," I growled. "Still using the same old tricks to take advantage of me."

"Well luckily for me, you haven't changed a bit either. Except for the hair and the gut."

I unconsciously scratched my goatee. And I have to confess, I had gotten a little bigger since I last saw her. I leaned my full weight back on to my feet and put my hands in my pockets. "Well, while you're getting yourself situated, I'll be looking for a noose. If you need anything, just ask Ozz."

"Oh, don't give me that talk, Yankee. This'll be fun. Just like old times."

"Right! That's why I'm getting the aforementioned noose."

She put down the bag she was holding and walked up to me. "Would you quit being a such a grouch about this? It's only until I find somewhere else. I'll be gone before you know it." She patted me lightly on the shoulder. "Genki dashite. Ne?" she smiled. Sensing my reluctance, she pulled me down just a little bit and gave me a soft peck on the cheek. My eyes grew a little in surprise and I blushed slightly. I'd never seen Makoto act like this before. Maybe she had changed a little. She started to go back to unpacking. "Oh! One more thing." Then she approached me again. She got right in front of me, looked me squarely in the eyes,... and slapped me in the face! As I rubbed my left cheek in shock, she gave me a familiar mischievous grin. "That's for earlier," she said coolly, and closed the door.

Then again, maybe not.

Walking back to my room, I heaved a deep sigh. No matter how much I run, my past just keeps comin' back to me.

You know the old saying, Ozz said, those who forget the past...

So-nan-dayone! I've heard it before, I blurted irritably. Maybe I should've just stayed home.

Let me explain one more thing. And this is crucial. Now, I'm human just like you. I was born and raised in your dimension; the plane you call "reality". I look like any other twenty-something you'd see working for minimum wage. But there's just one difference. See, I've been gifted with the ability of inter-dimensional teleportation. I can travel from one world to another with a single thought. Even worlds created entirely by human imagination. We call it "rifting". We are Rifters. Who's we? You'll find out soon enough.

The situation was out of my hands now. I had already agreed that Makoto could stay so I couldn't throw her out. I'm a man of honor and of my word. But she did say it was only temporary. Maybe she was right. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad. Maybe I just needed to keep my hopes up. Maybe with luck she'll get deported, I smiled sinisterly.

Ozz sighed in spite of my cynicism. Is it really going to be that bad?

Ozz. Two years ago, that girl made my life a living hell! You know. You were there. And now, it's going to happen all over again. I just know it.

Well, if you didn't want her to stay here, why didn't you just give her some money?

I'll give money to crack addicts before I give any to that person.

Ozz furrowed his brow in distaste. Oh now, you know that's not true.

He was right. I know this looks bad, but back then, Makoto just had a tendency to bring out the ugly in me. I'm no heartless prick. Far from it, actually. I'd never turn someone away if they needed my help. Even if I didn't really like them that much. I groaned as I massaged my temples. "I need to take my mind off all this." I stepped into my room and sat back down at my desk. The video had finished uploading so I closed the program and opened my e-mail account. "Let's see. Ebay watch notice,... low rates on blah blah blah,... Hey! Masaki! Haven't heard from him in ages." I clicked open the letter.

Hey Justin,

How are you doing? Washu told us all about the interview last week. We all think it would be great if you could come over and visit sometime. We haven't seen you in forever and some of the girls really miss you. And well, I do to. Feel free to drop by anytime. You know our door is always open to you. Hope to see you soon. Mata ne!

Your bro,

Masaki Tenchi

I leaned my chair back and smiled easily. "Now that's more like it. It really has been forever since I've seen them all." My face slowly became more pensive with a hint of remorse as I realized just how long I'd been away from the world; from my friends. I took in a deep breath. Then I smirked as I chuckled to myself. "I guess it's contagious. Maybe having my past catch up to me isn't so bad afterall." I stared at my e-mail screen for several seconds, then sat upright, clicked the "compose" tab and started typing. Well, as long as I'm in a good mood.

Dear Miss Aisha Clan-clan

I run a website that hosts interviews with extraordinary individuals such as yourself. I've heard about your adventures with the crew of the Outlaw Star and would be delighted to meet you and share a moment with you in person. Please respond to this as soon as possible so I can relay to you further information. Thank you for your time.

Sincerely,

Artukei

"Who's Aisha?"

"BWAAAA!!" Clutching my chest, I turned around and saw the hell-raiser standing right behind me.

"Gomen," she said. But her giggling made it sound less sincere. "Hey, Justin-san. I'm getting kinda hungry and I noticed that you have a karaoke machine downstairs. How about we have a little welcoming party tonight?"

With my teeth gritting and my fist clenched, I regained my composure. Then totally ignoring her request I said, "Makoto-san, if you're going to stay here there's going to be a few ground rules. The first is 'Stay out of my room.' Other than that, you're free to go anywhere. Just, you know, don't break anything." I really couldn't care less about what happened to her.

Makoto sighed. "Well, you sure know how to make a foreign girl feel at home." With that, she turned around and walked out.

She was right. I had to admit that so far I had been a pretty terrible host. Yeah, I know. She sent me on a guilt trip. I got up and stepped into the hall. Makoto was just about to turn the corner to the guest room. "Hey," I called. She stopped and looked back. "You like teriyaki chicken, right?" I flashed a friendly smile. The first all day. She returned my smile and nodded. See? I am a nice guy.

She added, "With steamed rice, grilled vegetables, and saké sautéed mushrooms." My eyes grew in surprise at this one-eighty. Then she clapped her hands and smirked. "Hayaku! Chop chop!" She looked like a princess giving orders to a servant. I opened my mouth to say something, but she'd already left for her room.

Wait. Did she just set me up?! Man, did this girl know how to play me! If I didn't know better, I'd think all my exes got together and wrote my operator's manual. "How to Manipulate a Cynical Yet Soft-hearted Geek!" Now available in paperback! Once again, my tender heart had fallen prey to Makoto-san's wiles. I glanced back at Ozz who was lying on my bed. Welcome to my hell.

Episode #2

KARAOKE PARTY!!

I had to go to the store to pick up stuff for dinner. I took Makoto-san with me. No way was I leaving that woman alone in my house! Well, that and um... I uh... I didn't know what ingredients to get. When we got back, it was a deja-vu nightmare. I got stuck doing all the work while Makoto just barked out orders. And when she wasn't doing that, she was busy scratching behind Ozz's ears. How 'bout a little help here? I called.

She's your guest, he replied up to his eyelids in bliss.

I let out a silent groan. You're despicable, you know that?

"You are just too cute!" Makoto squealed. "I didn't know you had a thing for exotic pets, Justin-san."

"Ozz is not a pet!" I hollered.

I was sweating by the time I served the food. When we'd finished eating, Makoto put down her chopsticks and said, "Not bad, Yankee." Even Ozz nodded in approval. "I'd say we make a pretty good team. Don't you?"

My eyebrow twitched irritatedly. "If by 'we' you mean my head and my two hands, then yes." I got up from the table and took my plate back to the kitchen. As I placed it in the sink, I saw a bag on the counter with a few protruding bottle necks. "We still have almost three whole bottles of saké left," I called back. "I don't know why you insisted we buy so much. All we needed was eight ounces."

Makoto set her plate on the counter and took out one of the bottles. "These are for after dinner." She uncorked it and poured some into a small cup. "Care to join me?" she asked as she enticingly raised her cup.

"No way," I said. "Thanks to an episode I had a few years ago in Hinata, and one... very interesting woman, I've learned all about the evils of alcohol. Besides," I said as I opened the fridge, "I'm fine with what I've got." I pulled out a bottle of root-beer.

Makoto snorted and mumbled under her breath, "Hmph. Kechi."

The Japanese dictionary in my head flipped open and I started fanning through pages. I found nothing. "OK. I'm not sure what that means, but I'm pretty sure it's an insult." I'll have the last laugh anyway, I thought. The way Makoto-san drinks, by the end of tonight, she'll be singing karaoke in nothing but her panties. I laughed demonically on the inside.

Makoto had already poured another cup. "C'mon Justin-san, loosen up. At least share a toast with me." With a peculiar tranquilness, she handed me the other cup. Her friendly demeanor made me wary, but there was something so natural about it that made me feel somewhat at ease. I'd never felt this way around Makoto before. I accepted the cup as if it were an olive branch, smiled, and raised it up. Makoto raised hers as well, then said a toast in Japanese that I didn't understand, and we clinked cups. "Kampai!" we both exclaimed. I'm not sure but I think I heard Ozz giggle.

We moved into the living room and Makoto tossed me the karaoke mike. "Well, start us off, Sinatra." She no doubt remembered that I loved to sing. It was one of my passions to be a professional musician. I sang all the time: in the shower, when I was working, or when I was just bored. In the past I actually charmed many a woman with my voice. It was one of the few things I prided myself on. My voice that is, not my love life! As I fired up the machine Makoto brought the saké in from the kitchen. I started to sing and Makoto sighed with bliss as she downed another shot.

I was finally starting to have fun. Makoto and I took turns singing while Ozz just hovered in the back, dancing in mid-air. We went from Barenaked Ladies to Good Charlotte to Smash Mouth to Beastie Boys to Queen to KISS to Michael Jackson to Red Hot Chili Peppers and everything else in between. We were having a blast! About three hours and almost a bottle and a half of saké later, it was starting to get late. I was just finishing up my turn. "'...singing this'll be the day that I die.' Woo!" I took a bow, completely sober. Makoto on the other hand...

"Oi! Taykit offu!" Her cheeks were flushed bright red. She was totally smashed.

"Makoto, are you alright?" I asked.

She feebly held up her thumb. "Okay!" she yelled and stood up. She took the mike from my hand and walked towards the machine, but before she could select her next song, she wobbled a bit and started to fall back.

"Makoto-san!" I caught her just in time. She looked up at me with dazed eyes and mumbled something I didn't understand. "Makoto-san, dai jobu desu-ka?" I asked.

She smiled and weakly replied. "Dai jobu. Dai jobu yo." She didn't look it. So I laid her down on the floor. She sat up, took off her haori coat, and tugged at her top. "Atsui," she murmured. She was unconsciously flashing me her cleavage. I could feel my face getting warm so I glanced away. Makoto obviously noticed this so she grinned and lightly patted my shoulder. "Ne. Jasuten-san?" I looked back at her. She smiled sexily and put her arms behind her head to accentuate her bust. "Dou? Kire desu-yo?" I felt my face get even warmer and looked away completely. Makoto burst out laughing. "Kawaii!" Then she slapped my back. HARD.

"Ack!"

Then she hugged me from behind. "Mmm. Jasuten-san?" She whispered in my ear and tried to get me to turn around. "Ne, ne!"

I sighed as my face sunk into my hand. "Aw frak." I looked up, reaching for assistance. "Hey Ozz, could you... Ozz?" He was fluttering around like a plastic bag in the wind. "Oh no. Makoto, did you give Ozz saké?"

"Eh?" was all she could say before I heard a "clunk".

I looked and saw that Ozz had bumped into a wall and was now lying on the floor. "Ozz!" I pried Makoto off of me, ran over, and picked him up. "Buddy? Are you OK?" He was out cold. This party was starting to get out of hand. I stood up and declared, "OK, that's it. I'm calling it a night. It's all fun and games until the Zilder loses consciousness."

Then I heard a strange noise from behind me. I looked and saw Makoto on her knees, sniffling and lightly sobbing. "Doshite..." she whispered.

'Doshite.' Why. "Why? Well, one: you're drunk. Two: Ozz is drunk..."

She repeated, "Jasuten-san. Doshite..." Then she looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "Doshite... watashi... daikirai desu-ka?"

Her Japanese was getting as sloppy as mine. 'Doshite.' Why. 'Watashi.' Me. 'Daikirai.' Hate. 'Why... me... hate'? 'Why do you hate me'? My eyes widened as I realized what Makoto was trying to say. "Ie, ie! Chigau-yo!" I knelt beside her with Ozz cradled in my arm. I gently put my hand on her shoulder as she sniffled. "Makoto-san, I don't hate you." I didn't like her, but I didn't hate her. "Boku ga... Makoto-san o..." I paused as I searched for the correct verb. I sucked at verb conjugation. 'Not hate.' 'Not hate.' What's 'not hate'? I used the closest I could think of. "Makoto-san o... suki," I said finally.

Makoto wiped her eyes and looked at me. "Honto?" she asked. I nodded and gave her a comforting smile. She gazed at me for a second as if in a dream. Then she whispered, "Ja. Kisu shite," and closed her eyes and tilted her chin up.

"Eep!" Did she just ask me to kiss her?! I started freaking out. Now normally I wouldn't pass up this opportunity. But she was drunk. I couldn't take advantage of a girl if she were drunk. Not even if they asked for it. And it was Makoto. If she ever found out that I did something like this, she'd kick me in the nads. If I was lucky! On the other hand, what would happen if I didn't kiss her? Would she get mad? "Sober Makoto" when she got mad was bad enough. I had no idea what "Drunk Makoto" would do! I debated the issue in my head for so long that Makoto was getting a little impatient. She reached over, grabbed the back of my neck, and gave me a deep saké-flavored kiss. I grunted as I fought for air. "Mmm! Mffmm!" After a few seconds, her grip on my neck became limp and her lips slid off of mine. Then her head slumped against my chest; asleep. It couldn't be a sexy ninja woman! It couldn't be a cute nekomimi! It couldn't even be an average schoolgirl! NO! It had to be my former boss! I turned my head to the side and spat and sputtered like a third grader who just caught cooties. "Blech! Pehh! Uuhgg! Oh, holy Miyazaki!"

We stayed like that for several minutes. Me, leaning against the sofa. Makoto, propped up against me sound asleep. I could've just left her there, lying on the floor. I wanted to. Heck, now that I think back on it, I could've gotten a sharpie and drawn on her face. Oh, that would've been funny. It would've been worth the repercussions I'd suffer the next morning. But I'm getting off track. I wanted to leave her there, but part of me didn't. There was just something about her; something new. The Makoto-san from my memories was a demonic taskmaster. A ferocious perfectionist who'd knock me upside the head if I didn't slice vegetables just right. A tough girl who could kick my ass in a fight. She actually did a few times. But as I watched her sleep, she seemed so... delicate; so fragile. And after I witnessed her drunken (and uninhibited) display, it flashed in my brain that maybe that was the real Makoto-san I finally saw. All this time, was all that being covered up by just a tough front? Well, whatever it was about her, I just couldn't leave her alone. Call it my gentleman instincts.

I carefully lifted her hair out of her face. I never took a good long look at her until that night. You know, she's actually kinda cute, I thought. When she's not yelling at me. I didn't want to commit to it just yet, but for a moment... I almost considered her a friend.

-----

"What... the... hell?"

I woke to these words the next morning. I opened my eyes and saw Makoto still next to me, wide awake, completely sober, and face white. "Ohayo," I uttered.

She looked at me and her face distorted with rage. "What... the hell... do you think... you're doing?" she said trembling. I put on the expression of 'huh?' and she started shoving me away yelling, "Te dokete-yo! Get off me!" Then she punched me in the shoulder.

I backed away giving her space and fearing for my life. "Sorry," I said raising my hands.

"Sorry?!" she screeched. "Is that all you have to say?!"

As I rubbed my shoulder I finally realized... I was shirtless. Wha... how did...?!

"Give me that!" Makoto screamed as she yanked something off my head. It was her headband. I didn't notice until then that it was missing.

My mind was buzzing with confusion. I felt like I'd woken up in the twilight zone or something. Then I heard a familiar chuckle inside my head. Very funny, ya little twerp. I immediately began to protest. "Makoto-san, I can explain."

"Urusai!" she barked. "You tried to take advantage of me last night, didn't you?!"

Quite the contrary! And technically, she took advantage of me. "No! I would never...!"

"Kono hentai!!"

BANG!!

I fell onto my side, hands over my boys as they screamed in agony. Makoto stormed out and up the stairs towards her room. Ozz hovered in front of me a few feet off the ground. Was that fun, ya little weasel?

Quite, he said cheerfully. I can't let you humans have all the fun.

Well, Makoto thinks I'm a total letch now!

Don't worry. I'll straighten things out.

You'd better. "Oooh." I sat back up. "Hey Ozz, that reminds me. What does 'kechi' mean?"

It's Japanese slang.

"For what?"

'Tightwad'

My eyes widened in surprise. "I'm not a tightwad!" Ozz stifled a chuckle. "I am not!!"

(End Chapter 1)

So, whadidja think? Can't wait for the next one, or would you rather have root canal. Let me know. Either way, I'll be writing more. Ja ne! L8R!