Spacebar Gaiden1: Fatality/Finality?

by Jemu Nekketsu

Standard disclaimers apply. I do not own Sakura Taisen nor Ruroni Kenshin.

Ichiro was about to flop down on his bed after a hard day's

training when something on the balcony caught his eye. It was a

little black bird with beady eyes and a flame-red beak. Its carnelian

eyes were staring at him intently.

"Shoo, bird, go away. No food for you here."

"Caw, caw."

"I said go, featherbrain! Or do you want the dog to smell

you?"

"Caw, caw caw!"

"Have it your way, then. Don't blame me if something untoward

happens to you."

"Don't worry, Mr. Ohgami. I take full responsibility for the

unfortunate consequences of my actions. I always have. Well, most of

the time anyway."

Ichiro sat bolt upright on the bed. That voice was very

familiar! "You a demon?"

"Nope."

"You dead, and came back for revenge?"

"I did die, but I'm not vengeful," replied the bird, pecking

at its left wing tip.

"Your voice does seem like I've heard it before..."

"Good. I'll give you a clue: we've worked together before."

"In a fanfic? Boy, that sure narrows matters a lot."

"Here's another clue: look under your sheets."

"Huh?"

"You know, that fabric that you were about to send your bulk

down on? Lift it and see what lies beneath."

"Fine, I'll humor you," Ichiro replied, catching a corner of

the sheet and pulling on it. "There's nothing underneath the- HOLY

PANTHEON OF DEITIES!"

"Shhh. Quiet, now. We wouldn't want this samurai girl to wake

up and discover you staring at her in her bedclothes, would we?"

"Bu- Ai- This is my bedroom!"

The woman on the bed turned, facing toward the window. As she

did, her lustrous black hair fell over the side of her face,

concealing it. The fibers gleamed blue-black in the rapidly

approaching gloom.

"Ready to guess who I am, now?"

"Jemu."

The bird bobbed its head up and down, hopped down to the

floor of the room, and metamorphosed quietly into a man wearing a

bartender's outfit. Quietly, as in no bells, whistles, silhouettes,

flash, and noise. Jemu put his finger over his lips in the universal

gesture of silence.

"Hello, Lieutenant."

"Hello, twisted sicko."

"Thanks. I've been called worse, by more simple-minded

people. So, you ready for more work again? With me, of course."

"Explain first," Ichiro whispered fiercely, jabbing an index

finger at the bed.

"You were so drunk you couldn't remember?! Zounds! Here's a

recap: there was a party, champagne was flooding, enough of it to

send the Parisiennes back to France if they wanted to do so. Everyone

was soused, except for old Yoneda and those three bridge bunnies of

the Shogeimaru. You decided to hit the sack, and threw yourself into

bed like you almost did earlier. Unfortunately, someone who we shall

describe as a samurai girl was already en deshabille and sleeping the

effects of the alcohol off in the nearest bed she could stumble onto

in her drunken state."

"I what?!"

"Wait, there's more. So, you dive in, get your fall broken

beautifully, and samurai girl screams bloody murder. You tried to get

up, but your energy reserves are pfft and then everyone in the party

is crowding into the room screaming all sorts of things

like 'pervert' and 'sex maniac' and 'rapist'. Did I mention you

didn't pass out, but even managed to muffle her cries with your

mouth?"

"I don't believe this! I thought I spent all my reserves!"

"It's called adrenalin, Ohgami. Anyway, old man Yoneda drops

a big bomb on everyone then. He goes, 'It's okay, they're engaged to

be married anyway.'"

"Hah! Now I know you lie! If everyone believed him, why am I

alive right now? I'd have been ripped to shreds by rabid Defenders of

Sakura's Chastity club members, among other rabid fanboy groups."

"Think, man! You've got a place in her, here," Jemu said,

pointing to where his heart ought to be, "And something tells me

she'll be real upset if you kick the bucket, and that's something

those fanboys won't want to happen, ne?"

"I think she'd be more upset upon learning that she'd been

bamboozled into being engaged to me."

"Wow, this is a deaprture."

"What is?"

"That characters are actually second-guessing their

directors."

"Welcome to the 20th century, bub."

"Piffle. Still, being a director, I know what you're

thinking."

"Oh?"

"You're thinking that the person on your bed is not our

favorite samurai girl, right? Go ahead, take one of her hands. Feel

the calluses from holding a sword for years. Don't worry, as your

director, I can promise you she won't wake up if you touch her."

"You've also lied to me-"

"With your best interests at heart. Now, go and touch her."

Warily approaching the bed, cursing as his toe stubbed the

foot of the bed, he leaned over and reached for the girl's hand. His

hand met an elbow instead, so he decided to follow the contours until

he got to the palm.

"Nice tactic, Ichiro. No wonder you made the grade."

Her palm, indeed, was callused. Yet, it was still pliant. He

knew he had similar calluses on his own palm, formed by demanding

saber drills on board ship. That was a long time ago. Shaking his

head, he brushed the memory away.

"Well, what more proof do you need? See the hair? The radiant

skin, even in the darkness-" Jemu's voice rose hysterically as he

spoke.

"Shh!" Ichiro turned to shush him. Too late, though.

"That unmistakable long-haired profile that

screams 'swordswoman' when sitting up with hair unbound like just

now!? What more?!"

Ichiro froze, and turned around slowly, expecting a death-

blow from a baka-mallet. He knew from experience, that a director was

either immune to them or went invisible when one was summoned in his

presence, leaving only the actors as targets. And he also knew that

baka-mallets did not miss.

Halfway through his turn, he felt hands and arms go around

him. But instead of his neck, they wove around his waist and he felt

a face try to burrow into the back of his shirt. He relaxed.

"So, Ichiro, what do you say? Another collaboration with me?"

"One condition - no more blackmailing for sex."

"Okay, I can handle that. Any other conditions you want in

your contract?"

"No magical girl outfits on anyone."

"What have you been reading? Oh, alright, fine."

Ichiro was about to dictate another condition when the door

flew open and Sakura rushed into the room. "Ohgami-san, it's time for-

oh, I didn't know you had company!"

"Good evening, Shinguji-san," Jemu greeted, making an

elaborate bow.

"Oh, hello there, Jemu-san," Sakura greeted back. "Why are

you standing in front of Ohgami-san's bed?"

"Well, I have no reason not to. After all, it's not like I'm

hiding the sight of some other woman wrapped around your wonderful

CO, no?"

Sakura's eyebrows drew together, and Ichiro heard the near

silent hiss of a blade being unsheathed. He also heard Jemu

say, "Well, if you're going to behave like that, I'll just go stand

by the window, then. I had no idea you were so jealous and

possessive."

Oh, crap, Ichiro thought, I know what it looks like I'm

doing, and explaining won't save me. Acting like the lightning that

was his element, Ichiro threw off the woman's embrace and flew out of

the window. A flash of light, which had Sakura and the other woman on

the bed shielding their eyes, and a low rolling of thunder followed.

"Don't worry, Shinguji-san, no storms tonight."

"How did you guess- oh. You're a director. I forgot about

that. But who's she?"

"Shinguji Sakura, may I present to you Kamiya Kaoru. Like

you, she also grew up around a sword, or in her case, a sword school."

"Good evening," Kaoru tightened her robe, and bowed. Sakura

returned the greeting and gesture.

Jemu rushed in before Sakura's brain could go into

overdrive. "Sorry about her appearance. See, I was wandering a few

years earlier, and I heard her say she wanted to see what a city

after the Meiji restoration looked like. I told her that I could

arrange for it if she gave me a little something for lunch. She

agreed, took me to her family's dojo, fed me, and insisted that her

friends come along with her."

Kaoru took over. "He said it was alright, that it was no

strain on his resources."

"But it was a strain on yours. So, when I tried to boson jump

to Ichiro's room and surprise him with a prank, Kaoru accidentally

got sucked in by my gate."

"Worse, I passed out. But really, I'm much tougher than that,

honest. I hope you don't mind, though."

"No, I don't. Speaking of which, did anyone of you see Ohgami-

san?"

"Uh, no," Jemu lied through his teeth. "I wanted to surprise

him, but, well..."

"Ah, too bad, ne? So, Jemu-san, why were you blocking me from

the view of Ohgami-san's bed earlier?" Sakura asked nonchalantly. A

little too nonchalantly, perhaps.

"Ano, I'm just a visitor here, but could we talk later after

I've got some decent clothes on?" Kaoru asked politely.

"Um, I better find Kaoru's party and tell them where she is.

Before they tear up the town looking for her." So saying, Jemu

morphed and flew off.

"Party?" Sakura asked.

"Oh, just one of my students, and a couple of homeless bums

who've saved my skin from time to time. Not that I needed it, you

understand," Kaoru explained as she pulled on her kimono and tied up

her hair. "Men are funny at times, aren't they?"

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

Another flash of light, and Jemu reappeared, this time with

Ichiro; tall, lean spiky-haired guy; a spiky-haired young man; and a

red-haired man who kept his hair in a ponytail.

"Whoa, that's what I call fast travel," quipped the tall guy.

"Yeah. Say, Kenshin, where are we?" asked the young man.

The one with red hair, the one called Kenshin by the younger

one, replied "Oro? Sano," Kenshin said, turning to the taller

man, "Am I just hungry, or is there two of Kaoru in here?"

"Beats me, Kenshin. But I agree with you, or rather," Sano's

stomach let a out a loud rumble, "My tummy does. Let's go find a

restaurant."

"Preferably one where Sano can bluster his way out of

paying," the young man grinned.

"Shut up, Yahiko! I haven't been doing that for a time!"

"Mind your manners, you two! We're guests here, and uninvited

ones at that!" Kaoru rebuked the two. Immediately Yahiko and Sano

straightened and turned their backs on each other.

"Kamiya-san, why don't you and your friends stay for dinner?

Oh, you can come along too, Jemu-san."

"Nah, I've other things to attend to. I'll just have a meal

in town; thanks for the offer, though. You can try to feed these

three bottomless pits, though."

"HEY!!!!"

Kenshin did a quick iaijitsu stance as Sano and Yahiko jumped

Jemu. Unfortunately, Jemu didn't bother to morph into bird mode, he

just gated away, with Sano and Yahiko landing in a heap on the floor.

"Your friends seem to be pretty active for hungry people,"

Ichiro commented to Kenshin, knowing another leader when he saw one.

"Well..." was all Kenshin could say.

"Get up, Sano, you weigh like a couple of sacks of potatoes!"

"You mean you're that puny, squirt?"

"I'm really sorry about all this," Kaoru was saying to Sakura.

"It's no trouble! The others will be glad for some company.

I'm sure I am!"

"So, Sakura, introduce me to your new friends."

Sakura turned on Ichiro. "Where were you a few minutes back?

I thought you said you wanted to doze for a while before dinner?"

"I- uh, well, you see," Ichiro stammered. How was he going to

explain his way out of this? Then inspiration hit him. "I'll tell you

over dinner. Remind me not to stand too close to Jemu-san next time."

A small black bird watched the humans from its perch on a

nearby tree. It listened as they exchanged names, then flew on top of

the roof of the Imperial theater, where it changed into Jemu

again. "That was a lot of work back there. But, all's well that ends-"

He never got to finish the cliche. A shot from a pistol rang

out, sending him spinning off the edge and hurtling to the ground.

The last words he heard were tinged with a weird Italian

accent, "Bene, Maria-san, you got the strangero."

His last thought before blacking out from the pain was, "John

Biles never had this happen to him."