TITLE: Genesis
SUMMARY: Trigun and Rurouni Kenshin x-over--Sano was right; train rides do lead to trouble! This one in particular skips a few dimensions and ends up on a certain dusty planet in a time of much angst and trouble for a certain broom-headed hero and company.
PAIRINGS: V/M; W/M; K/K; S/M; A/M
DISCLAIMER: "Oh Life is a glorious cycle of song/ A medley of extemporanea/ And Love is a thing that can never go wrong/ And I am Marie of Romania" And I own Trigun and Ruroni Kenshin...except, you know, not really.
A/N: I've wanted to write a fanfic like this for a really long time now, seeing as these were the two first animes to which I was ever introduced. I've seen the entirety of Trigun, the whole of the Kenshin Tokyo Arc, and most of the Kyoto Arc. Admittedly I've taken liberty with the characters and made a few changes plot-wise to suit my devious plans. My apologies to any die-hard fans who don't like what I've done; please know that even if it sucks, I did it out of love.and a lot of free time on my hands. Oh, and I'll be throwing around spoilers like hot potatoes.
A/N 2: The prologue takes place about five years before either of our dashing heroes meets their entourage, so to speak.
FEEDBACK/REVIEWS: They do an author good.
PROLOGUE "Welcome to my nightmare/ I think you're gonna like it."-Alice Cooper
It wasn't the blood, it wasn't the smoke, it wasn't the heat or the destruction or the desolation-it was the screaming, the hopeless, night- shattering screaming. He woke up with a start, sitting up and pushing away the thick, sweat- soaked red hair from his forehead. His hands, his strong, slender swordsman's hands, were clenched in fists by his sides and his normally violet eyes were amber with repressed emotion. He fell back onto his mat in the tiny room of the Okinawa inn where he'd been staying for the past two months and where every night he'd been dogged by these haunting, horrific dreams. He clenched his teeth together and tried to relax, to will himself back into the sleep he so desperately needed. Will it never end? he thought wildly. Will I never be able to escape these ghosts?
"Hey, Mister!" The tiny, determined voice shook the man in the red trenchcoat from his reverie. He managed to pull out a smile for the child standing in front of him. "You've been sitting on that bench an awful long time, Mister. Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?" The man spit out a laugh. "I guess I was just thinking, little man. But thanks for making sure I was alright." "Sure." The kid shrugged and ran off, disappearing around a corner. The man ran his hands down the length of his long, lean face. This was getting impossible to deal with. Every time he had a moment to himself. That light, that awful, brutal light, and the rush like wind from a vacuum and the yells of shock and horror and the emptiness, the great damn sense of utter loss. This had to stop. And the only way to get it to stop was to keep moving. He pushed his sunglasses, yellow as his gravity-defying hair, up the bridge of his nose, rose from the bench, and strode out of town, big heavy boots making not a sound in the sand.
SUMMARY: Trigun and Rurouni Kenshin x-over--Sano was right; train rides do lead to trouble! This one in particular skips a few dimensions and ends up on a certain dusty planet in a time of much angst and trouble for a certain broom-headed hero and company.
PAIRINGS: V/M; W/M; K/K; S/M; A/M
DISCLAIMER: "Oh Life is a glorious cycle of song/ A medley of extemporanea/ And Love is a thing that can never go wrong/ And I am Marie of Romania" And I own Trigun and Ruroni Kenshin...except, you know, not really.
A/N: I've wanted to write a fanfic like this for a really long time now, seeing as these were the two first animes to which I was ever introduced. I've seen the entirety of Trigun, the whole of the Kenshin Tokyo Arc, and most of the Kyoto Arc. Admittedly I've taken liberty with the characters and made a few changes plot-wise to suit my devious plans. My apologies to any die-hard fans who don't like what I've done; please know that even if it sucks, I did it out of love.and a lot of free time on my hands. Oh, and I'll be throwing around spoilers like hot potatoes.
A/N 2: The prologue takes place about five years before either of our dashing heroes meets their entourage, so to speak.
FEEDBACK/REVIEWS: They do an author good.
PROLOGUE "Welcome to my nightmare/ I think you're gonna like it."-Alice Cooper
It wasn't the blood, it wasn't the smoke, it wasn't the heat or the destruction or the desolation-it was the screaming, the hopeless, night- shattering screaming. He woke up with a start, sitting up and pushing away the thick, sweat- soaked red hair from his forehead. His hands, his strong, slender swordsman's hands, were clenched in fists by his sides and his normally violet eyes were amber with repressed emotion. He fell back onto his mat in the tiny room of the Okinawa inn where he'd been staying for the past two months and where every night he'd been dogged by these haunting, horrific dreams. He clenched his teeth together and tried to relax, to will himself back into the sleep he so desperately needed. Will it never end? he thought wildly. Will I never be able to escape these ghosts?
"Hey, Mister!" The tiny, determined voice shook the man in the red trenchcoat from his reverie. He managed to pull out a smile for the child standing in front of him. "You've been sitting on that bench an awful long time, Mister. Did you fall asleep with your eyes open?" The man spit out a laugh. "I guess I was just thinking, little man. But thanks for making sure I was alright." "Sure." The kid shrugged and ran off, disappearing around a corner. The man ran his hands down the length of his long, lean face. This was getting impossible to deal with. Every time he had a moment to himself. That light, that awful, brutal light, and the rush like wind from a vacuum and the yells of shock and horror and the emptiness, the great damn sense of utter loss. This had to stop. And the only way to get it to stop was to keep moving. He pushed his sunglasses, yellow as his gravity-defying hair, up the bridge of his nose, rose from the bench, and strode out of town, big heavy boots making not a sound in the sand.