Disclaimers: RK is mine, ya hear me?! HA HA HA HA!! (think Ayame from Fruits Basket) *head nearly gets cleaved off by a flying katana* Eh? *looks where it came from* ORO!!! SUMIMASEN!!! SHITSUREI SHIMASHITA!!!! *bows repeatedly, head banging on the floor* As Watsuki-sensei just "asked", RK shall forever be his and Sony's property.
"Shitsurei shimashita" is equivalent to "I did a rude thing", yet it's weaker than "sumimasen" ("I'm very sorry") for some reason.
About the flying katana from Watsuki-sensei, that's how he got the ideas for the moves and techniques in RK; by throwing a sword around in the safety (and privacy) of his room. Wonder how many holes he needed to patch up before relatives came for a visit?
~@~@~@~@~@~@~…..~@~@~@~@~@~@~ is flashback.
Again, long explanation at the bottom. Get used to it.
Vesca: my first reviewer, arigatou!
Koneko-chan: Technically, the correct way is "Has Battousai eaten yet?", if following the thing with nouns. If I remember right from one of Miyu Sakura's reviews, she had griped about Battousai being a proper noun. (Miyu-sama, please don't kill me!) That means it's a name, like Shinta or Tsubame.
To the rest of you guys (I'm exhausted!): I appreciate the reviews and I'm glad
that the lot of you enjoyed this. I have to admit, I was surprised to even
receive that many feedback on a first try.
'Njoy!
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Part 2: Hospital Calls Are Very Annoying
_Los Angeles, CA Same day_
Through the large and spacious halls, pristine to a point where a literal neat freak would be pleased, students in blue short-sleeved shirts and black pants chatted with fellow schoolmates, exchanging stories and gossip. Though this wasn't exactly Quantico, since most cadets headed to the East coast, it suited for those who aren't able to make such an expensive trip or for those not used to the weather on the East Coast to be FBI agents or employees. Most of the students here enjoyed the classes, since plenty of things were often being revealed, from the latest medical advancement on repairing an artery to the newest technology on bomb diffusing.
One class group in particular dreaded their teacher. To a certain degree for many.
"Alrighty, now that roll call's over, plus our morning tai chi, and the lot of you are all here, I have good news and bad news."
Almost all of them broke out into more sweat, despite the cool air surrounding them circulating from the AC. Barely two-and-half months into the semester and the majority of the group had already renewed their health or life insurances. Rumors flowed that more than one-half of the previous class had to spend most of their time in the medical wing. Not to mention stories about the head nurse going insane and nearly killing the assistant director when she came in to check up on the students at one point.
"The good news: we're going into a new lesson today, which is 'What To Do When the Plan Doesn't Go As It Should And the Boss Is Ready to Tear Out His Hair'."
Silence. Then slowly, snorts and snickers became full-blown laughter inside the bright and freshly aired gym.
The huge room looked more like a dojo straight from Japanese movies of the feudal era, with a dash of a Chinese training hall. The original hand-to-hand combat instructor had the place like a regular Western gym but the new one had insisted on something different. One half of the floor were lined tatami mats, raised one step above the wooden floor and wooden posts, a cross between the dojo part and Chinese training hall. Socks only and if you were caught with any shoes on, cleaning duty after the end of class. Along the walls were paintings of past warriors, both Chinese and Japanese; famous battle quotes on bamboo parts, and a bulletin board with the current classes and students. There was only one instructor, oddly enough.
FBI hand-to-hand coach Samson Hindsaig Saagra reasoned that if the students were to clean the place by themselves and put away all the equipment (mainly extremely heavy stuff, one requiring four people to carry it) instead of the janitors, then they would at least learn some discipline. That sounded a lot like a responsible and terrific teacher. However..... his attitude and tactics on teaching was a whole ball game level, if one didn't miss the spark in those mahogany eyes.
Sam raised an eyebrow, causing nearly half the female students to swoon. The guys only looked on with jealousy and fear. The boys in the class might out number him 15 to 1 but the tall teacher could easily beat them all without breaking into a sweat. Rumors had it that he had beaten about two hundred men in one sitting.
"Think it's real funny, eh? Well, unless you guys were actually in the middle of friendly and foe fire, not to mention dodging grenades and flying sparks right next to a liquid nitrogen and gas tank, I would recommend you consider the lesson and head straight over to your next class. Oh, this happened at the industrial area just last week, might I add."
Everyone clamped their mouths shut. They all knew that Sam had at least ten years in the Bureau as a field agent until his recklessness finally landed him on teaching. That option left him as a backup agent and what the tall man just said was true; the drug bust explosion was plastered all over the papers and TVs. Tales of his wild side though, known only as "Zanreb", were a bit exaggerated, like one story of Sam beating up a whole bar of arms dealers and con artists on his first day after graduating. Not to mention earning him that red bandanna he always wore.
"Smart group. Let's get started. Who knows rule number 1 when on the field in tight situations?"
One guy raised his hand.
The instructor nodded.
"Uh.... 'always follow protocol', sir?"
"Eeeeeeehhh. Wrong answer. Rule number one when in a sticky position: Follow your commanding officer."
"Then what about if he or she isn't present?" one Hispanic female asked.
"Try rule number two: drive your opponent nuts."
Looks of confusion and question marks popped up all over. "Huh?"
Sam leaned against a spinning post, used for simulating a person attacking from all sides. "Reverse psychology happens to be one terrific tactic to use if the person you're trying to take down is a little bonkers, either literally or not. True, in this department we're like the police but we also have to take care of the more crazier nuts, as well the extra paperwork.
"You either go one step further with the maniac or you do completely the opposite. Every person has a rhythm when fighting. If you make them confuse, you break that rhythm and that gives you the chance to get 'em while they're down. The best example of breaking the suspect's pattern is arriving at the last second, which is a classic; oldie but a goodie."
"What's rule number three if reverse psychology doesn't work?"
A cocky grin, sending more ladies near swooning.
"Number three: improvise."
More question marks appeared.
"Let's say that the suspect you're trying to take down is screaming his head off, has a butcher knife to his own niece, one of the top ten on our list and you don't have a gun or you lost it. Backup, either your nearby buddies or police, want to do this without firing or won't be arriving for another ten minutes, in which the hostage would be dead by then.
"The only stuff nearby and the junk in your pockets: a metal pole from a nearby construction site, tranqs from the vet for your pet elephant, some rubber bands, and the damn brains God gave you. So what do you do? You got fifteen minutes to give me a damn good answer. The one who gives out the best suggestion using all the items I mentioned won't have to take the next physical exam. You may share ideas with the rest of the class."
Buzzing whisper amongst the sitting students, several ideas crazy enough that would only work in movies, others more down-to-earth.
Sam grinned. "Oh, and it has to be at least within the laws of physics so no insane sci-fi stuff."
The ones just discussing that all face-faulted, their legs twitching like dying roaches. The others gave little snickers.
All of them wanted to avoid the exam, which was extremely strenuous; running up and down fifteen flights of stairs in less than one hour, 70-80 crunches. The mile run in under ten minutes, swimming a mile, shooting accuracy in archery and firearms, hanging by your arms for more five minutes with your chin just above the bar.
And the worst one of all: running the pacer test. That was the last one, usually by the time they were all exhausted. The first time it happened, nearly the entire class failed but thankfully the instructor was nice enough to let them retake the pacer test the next day. Of course, being the guy he was, the teacher had purposely forgotten about the cramps that resulted from swimming, running and crunching a whole 9 hours.
"By the way, the bad news is that we'll be learning on how to improvise for the next two months!"
Groans came about again and Sam grinned the evil one of a teacher who enjoyed giving the students a tough assignment.
Just as the tall brunette got started on chewing a left over fishbone, one of the younger agents there burst into the gym, panting and holding a cordless phone.
"Agent Saagra! Call for you! They said it was an emergency!"
Frowning, Sam walked over and snatched up the communication device. He rarely received calls like these and always hated them. Muttering several affirmatives, his face immediately paled to a shade close to linen.
Handing back the phone, Sam dashed over and snatched his coat. "Class is cancelled today," he sharply said, humor gone. "I want those answers on five full pages, single spaced and ready by the time I come back. If not, triple laps in the pool."
With that order, he ran out the double doors, his trench coat flapping and people staring at him (actually, more at the kanji "aku" stitched onto the coat).
"Sir! Agent Saagra! AGENT!"
Sam ignored the younger one, his mind geared on one thing.
'Damnit, let her be alright! Please....'
* * * * *
"Yo, Ken. Ya doin' fine?"
A shaky smile, but it changed into a wince when the surrounding nurses dabbed the bullet hole with some disinfectants.
"I'm fine, considering this is about the sixth time I got shot at. How about you?"
Kevin shrugged. Dumb mistake.
"Captain, I suggest you do not move that shoulder for a week or two," the doctor said, not turning her head from scribbling away on a chart when several curses flew. "Unless you want to pull the stitches on that gash of yours. Fourteen stitches... even my niece only needed five for a split lip."
"Feh. You weren't the one that got nearly sliced. I'm going out for a drink. Want something, little bro?"
Ken waved a hand. "No thanks. I'm gonna be stuck with juice after this slug is pulled out. I just hope that she's okay."
"She'll be fine. Catch ya when you get out."
Giving a sigh and watching as his sibling was carted away, stomach down on the bed, Kevin walked off to the lounge, ignoring the other medics. Both twins were often regulars there (and other hospitals around the LA area as well) so they had free access to most of the wings, not to mention the medical files of certain patients. Walking through the pale walls of any hospital often reminded Kevin of the twin's mother.
Kasumi Banji, a wonderful woman who gave everything and expected nothing in return from those she helped, finally passed away from a cancer that was already too late to be treated. In the advanced stages, neither surgery nor chemotherapy were able to help. The only option left was to survive by the life support system, 24/7 surveillance by nurses, and neither father nor sons were too keen on that idea. They didn't had much of a choice after she suffered a mild cardiac arrest some time after a session of chemo.
Before they knew she had cancer, Kasumi was always healthy and loved both twins with all her heart, teaching them everything her parents had taught her. Having been born near the end of World War II and hearing stories from her mother, not to mention being a flower girl during the early seventies, she was a shy girl up till high school.
Meeting her future husband was somewhat ironic and unusual, as Kevin's father had recalled nostalgically several times.
Angus Hilmringer had gotten into a fight (fifteenth time) with another school mate (reason: nasty comment on Kasumi, just barely two decades after WWII) when the bigger bully barreled the gangly Irish immigrant in the chest. Kasumi was just standing behind Angus, chatting with several friends about their homework and whatnot. Realizing that she might get hurt because of him, Kevin's father somehow twisted his body to fall away from her. The taller student found himself staring up at bright violets that were shimmering with near tears. Not to mention wondering why the sky was spinning like the time he had spun himself silly on a stupid dare as a child.
They immediately hitched up after that incident, their slightly opposite personalities and what they lacked in each other making them a "match made in heaven". Some people saw the marriage as bad luck but to others, it was a step toward a better future.
The wedding was held Shinto style, at the insistence of both their mothers; Mrs. Hilmringer thought it would be wonderful to try a new way of marriage while Mrs. Banji finally got her wish of seeing her daughter married the way she did. Neither of their husbands liked the idea much but both came to a compromise on the catering part since they both knew the food problems, given their different backgrounds.
At the Nishi Hongwanji Temple in Downtown, Hilmringer's face was matching his hair color as he and Kasumi approached the priest during the ceremony, causing giggles to erupt from his bride. That was partly due to the fact as most of Kasumi's relatives were gawking at Angus' tall height and crimson hair, more used to the usual 5' 4" rather than a towering 6' 2" (save very few Japanese members that actually reached the six-foot mark).
Three-quarters of Kasumi's family were directly from Japan, while the groom's group (the majority from Ireland and Scotland) eyed their soon-to-be shorter Asian family members with slight confusion. For the kids, they all played together after getting over the different looks, as most children would usually do upon first meeting.
During the reception at the New Otani Hotel, you could've imagine the faces on the more Western guests, especially the Irish contingent when they saw the seafood being served first. You'd think they were being given hydrogen peroxide with ammonia for lunch. Thankfully, the married couple's fathers had foresaw the situation and the caterers gladly provided dishes suited for the more wild side of the family. Overall, it was one of the craziest receptions the hotel staff had ever seen; sake mixed with ale, not a pretty sight.
The twins' father later became successful as a lawyer consultant to the CIA after graduating from Harvard while Kasumi went into teaching elementary until the twins were born. Growing up, they were all a happy family when Kasumi began getting sicker by the day after Kevin's marriage years later. That sent her to the hospital for a long time and when the diagnose came as cancer, the three redheads were nearly devastated but she refused to have them in depression.
Kasumi never got the chance to watch her first grandson grow up, having slipped into a deep coma for many agonizing months after the usual treatments failed. The only comfort to the captain was that when his squirming newborn son was placed into her comatose arms, a soft smile had appeared onto the little one's grandmother.
The machines had sung her final rhapsody moments after the baby fell asleep. Kasumi still had her smile on and it was an image neither twins, nor their father, would ever forget.
Holding back a wistful sigh and glancing at the vending machines, the redhead finally chose good ol' espresso. Taking a sip, he ignored the grins from the watching interns.
Immediately, Kevin spat out the mouthful. "The hell?!"
"We forgot to mention: machine-made coffee never tastes as good as you make it yourself at home."
One nurse held out the cream pitcher and sugar packets, smiling widely. "Want some?"
The young captain glared at the medical personnel before snatching said items.
"Next time, I'm bringing my own," he muttered darkly before sipping the now sweetly caffeinated drink and thinking ways of killing, erhm, maiming the now laughing crew.
* * * * * *
A dark blue blur zipped through the hallways, startling most of the people there and causing one nurse to nearly drop a tray of syringes. At that speed, one isn't able to see the panic and fear on the boyish face, a smile much more suited than what he has on.
'Please let her be alright! Please let her be alright! Please let her be alright!' and the mantra ran on endlessly inside his mind.
Finally crashing into a larger body, both men recognized each other and Sam grabbed the other's wrist, rushing to their destination. Both understood, no words needed to be exchanged.
A couple more rights, scaring a few folks taking walks, some lefts, dodging a crash cart and trashing the lunch cart (and saving some people from a good chance of food poisoning, courtesy of the kitchen).
In the end, they reached the room they were looking for. Without further ado, both kicked the door open and the sight that met their eyes wasn't exactly a good thing. That is, in their minds so they saw red.
Karen was still lying on her hospital bed, an oxygen mask covering her mouth and nose. Her hair was down, having lost the elastic in the chaos and wearing one of those anesthetic-smelling flimsy white hospital dress. That wasn't it.
Kenneth was sitting in one of those uncomfortable plastic/metal chairs, hospital gown draped over to reveal a body any female nurse would die for (eight-pack, chisel chest; often working out type of body). Not to mention a swath of white bandages surrounding the left shoulder. Nope, not the reason either.
The cause as to why both newcomers were about to lose their leash on their fuses was that Karen had some tears in her eyes and that the red-haired officer was holding her hand. To the visitors, it was sacrilege.
"Who--" Sam breathed in.
"The--" the shorter one said, taking one step forward.
"Bloody--" Twitching eyebrow.
"Hell--" Another step.
"Are--" Clenching fist.
"You--" Stressed smile.
"And--" Knuckles cracking.
"What--" Teeth grinding.
"Do--" Nerve throb.
"You--" Third step making spider-web cracks on the linoleum.
"Think-" One hand gripping a nearby chair, bending the metal frame.
"YOU'RE DOING?!?!?!" both roared, nearly blowing Ken and Karen's hair out. Not to mention pretty much rattling the entire building, making people think it was another aftershock. Both dogs whimpered, covering their heads with their paws.
Blinking repeatedly to get some moisture back into his eyes, the officer's only reply to them was a cute "Oro?"
Immediately, he felt like he was getting another lesson from Shishou due the sudden rising of the two men's ki, flames in their eyes.
"Answer the question, man!" the FBI agent nearly shouted.
"SAM!! SOREN!!" Karen shouted, seeing where this was going but slightly pissed, wiping away her tears with one hand that wasn't poked with needles. Not a good idea to shout when you were afflicted with air deprivation for some time but she forgot about that and began coughing a bit.
Hearing her voice and coughing, both men calmed down a bit, though still sending glares at the now confused officer.
'Geeze.... every time they see me with a boy they all look like they're ready to bring out the semi-automatics!' Shaking her head amusedly, Karen smiled cheerfully behind the clear mask. Having been deprived of air for nearly eight minutes, her lungs and body needed time to accustom itself into breathing again.
"I'm fine, really! For crying out loud! It's just the medicine and don't you dare pull your gun out, Sam! This is a hospital, not the shooting range! And I didn't really think that an investigator would carry a fire-arm with him all the time, eh?! Put that S&W back into your holster, Soren! And get those safety locks back on! I don't want security dragging you two off just because of a misfire!"
Turning to Ken, Kaoru kept on smiling, noticing that his eyes had taken on the "deer-caught-in-the-headlights" look, which caused her to giggle a bit. Both gun wielders immediately clicked the safeties back on their weapons, slight embarrassment and sheepishness on their faces. Sam grumbled under his breath, thinking that it was a bit humiliating he was being ordered around by a younger female.
"Ken, I'd like you to meet my older brother Soren Kamaryn, and my older step-brother Samson Saagra," she said, gesturing her hand at the aforementioned names and hoping to diffuse a fight from breaking out. "Soren's a Crime Scene Investigator with the San Francisco PD while Sam's a Defensive Tactics instructor at the LA FBI branch here. Guys, this is Sergeant Kenneth Hilmringer, a negotiator with LAPD. Oh, by the way, Soren's is on vacation and that's why he's down here."
All three men nodded, their training as law enforcers not requiring them to exchange much words.
An uncomfortable silence then settled, tension still between the two step-brothers and the slightly agitated cop.
"Okay, buster. Spill it," Soren spoke, light-blue eyes flashing with the protectiveness of any older sibling.... especially the male type over the little sister. "What are you doing here and how did Karen get injured?"
Being someone who always dealt with gore upon arriving on a crime scene, especially those dealing with homicides, Soren could handle it. Seeing his only sister in almost the same case, that he can't handle; he'd go insane or rather hunt down the moron mercilessly.
Scratching his head, Ken merely smiled sheepishly.
Giving another sigh, Karen finally started, both men's attention riveting onto her. That left Ken to stare out the window, the skies slowly darkening, heralding a nasty storm.
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
/Red sprinkled onto the pavement, turning from bright to a darker shade as it hit the blacktop.
"I-YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!"
That scream was what finally gave Karen the chance to breathe but at the price of Ken shielding her with his body. The bullet had inserted itself into his left shoulder and nearly damn cracking his shoulder blade.
Ignoring the wailing of ambulance sirens and flying orders, Kevin wiggled out of the hands of concerned fellow officers, trying to reach his brother, sheathing and dropping his katana.
"....hitokiri wa hitokiri till death..... Battousai...." came the whispered words, eerily in Udian's voice. Yet, the phrase sounded a bit archaic and in Japanese.
Whipping his head toward Jean, all he saw was a dead body going into rigor mortis and blank green eyes, blood slowly dripping out the bullet hole and the mouth. As well pooling near the bottom close to the pavement. Two paramedics placed the corpse into a body bag, ready for the coroner at the morgue (not that it was really necessary, except the head coroner loved to use autopsies as an initiation for newbies) to prepare a report.
'He's dead. No way in hell can he talk.' Shaking his head, Kevin continued on. 'Go check up on little bro!'
"Officer?" Karen gasped, slightly shuddering in the wintry chill. One medic placed a thick blanket around her after cutting the bonds and putting an oxygen mask onto her face.
The other was putting pressure onto Ken's wound, causing the older man to slightly wince. Turning his head to her, he smiled, trying to reassure her.
"I'm fine, miss. Just a flesh wound."
"More than a flesh wound, officer," the EMT said, covering the patch with gauze. "I think that bullet might have hit the scapula and you're gonna need to get it pulled out."
"You're also gonna need some time to get some rest and so your body could get back into gear, ma'am," the other intern said, adjusting the valves and writing down on his clipboard. "Vision's fine? Sense of feeling or anything okay?"
"Yes, yes," She replied hastily, though sounding as if she had a real bad case of asthma. "Just a little dizzy and wheezy but I'm fine."
"Well, I'd let you go but the docs at the hospital are probably gonna keep you for a 24 hour observation."
Karen grumbled under her breath, coughing a little, several curses that would've cost her a week's worth of detention.
Still wanting to see if his brother was alright, Kevin tried to walk over but one EMT grabbed his left arm and he hissed.
"Sorry, sir but you're going to San Pedro Peninsula Hospital for a check-up."
A glare that could bend steel. "What about--"
"Those two will also be there so relax, man."
Looking over back at Ken, Kevin gave a sigh and reluctantly followed the medic toward one of the ambulances. Giving one glance over to Sagi, the young captain subtly nodded his head toward the Pontiac and his brother's Toyota.
The Chief raised an eyebrow, crushing the still smoking stub under his shoe's heel. 'You want me to take them back? I think not.'
A feral growl came from the red haired captain as raised his hand to a level just below his shoulder. 'Give Zeke the Firebird. He'll take care of the Tacoma.'
Sagi abruptly turned around, causing Kevin to nearly lose his temper but the shorter officer instead threw his keys at his superior's head. The wolf (as nicknamed by a little girl who had gotten lost several months back and the name stuck, much to Toan's delight and Sagi's chagrin) snatched them easily from the air, in which the young officer mumbled a disappointed curse.
After being loaded into the ambulance, the EMT immediately went to work, another one scribbling down on a clipboard. The third one hit the gas on the vehicle, wanting to be out of the glaring guy's sight and that nervousness was starting to affect his driving skills.
Both Ken and Karen also got loaded onto another ambulance and followed the first one, the two canines following the younger redhead onto the medical car.
Picking up the now sheathed katana, Sagi tossed it onto the back seat. His thoughts weren't exactly with the road, the wolf's conscious more on auto-pilot. The subconscious was thinking more about his two subordinates' actions. Reckless, really but extremely efficient. He only shook his head before peeling the red Firebird out of the port, another officer taking his cruiser back to the department./
~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~@~
"--and this is where we ended up," Karen finished. "So don't you dare do anything stupid!"
Both of her older brothers grumbled their reluctant acceptance.
"And apologize to Officer Hilmringer! He nearly cracked his shoulder blade saving me from a bullet!"
Blinking out of his day-dreaming Ken found a hand stuck in front of his face. Looking up, it belonged to Soren, looking a bit embarrassed.
"Sorry if Sam and I were a bit hard on ya. It's just that, well, with Karen as our only sister..."
Taking it ('Firm grip. He's a fighter') and shaking the investigator's hand, Ken merely smiled. "Mutual feeling. My older brother was fairly protective of me when we were kids as well."
"No hard feelings?"
A small grin. "None."
Sam merely grunted but he had a smirk on his face. "I'll have to beat ya to see if you'll do for little sis."
Soren burst out laughing when Karen started throwing things at their step-brother and Ken's face turned beet red at that reference.
It was the start of a crazy family, not by blood but by things they hold within their hearts.
* * * * * *
Driving the Tacoma to the hospital where Ken was "held hostage", Zeke hummed along with one of the songs on the a CD he had burned. Having dropped off the Firebird at Kevin's home, the speed demon went back to take the pickup. Musing a bit in his mind, the young rookie smiled a bit, fingers still tapping to "Shuffle" by Masami Okui.
'The air's gotten a bit warmer.... I see that ao tori have siblings that approve of aniki.... Otouto won't be happy but he'll live.'
Whistling along with the lyrics, he happily continued on the freeway, wind blowing through the open windows.
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another long-winded AN notes:
S&W: short for Smith & Wesson, one of the leading firearms manufactures. Other than the popular Colt .45, it's usually issued for law enforcement agencies like police and the Feds. Can be purchased by civilians as long as you carry the required permits with you if you're gonna carry the thing around.
Semi-automatics are different from automatics. Autos, for short, can fire continuously as long you keep the trigger depressed, like an AK-47. Semi-automatics, a 9mm for example, can only fire one shot at a time when you pull the trigger (keep pulling it and you keep unloading lead, in other words).
Quantico, Virginia, is the main place where cadets go to train in order to be an FBI agent. The usual are physical, firearm training, medical, and diplomacy, as far I know from watching "The X-Files". In order to have Sam (Sano) to be close to Karen (and mess with Ken's mind about Karen, conspiring with Soren), I decided to create a training grounds at the Los Angeles Branch. Odd that I got Tori-atama as a Special Agent, much less an instructor? Hey, this IS AU. At least I kept his fishbone! Finding out about FBI ranks is near to frustration so I stuck with what was mentioned at the FBI employee site and fool around a bit.
http://www.fbi.gov/
http://www.fbijobs.com/
Karen (Kaoru) being deprived of air for more than five minutes is partially possible. In reality, she could've suffered brain damage from lack of oxygen to the brain. BUT, since Kaoru survived Jin-E's Shin no Ippo for nearly five minutes, then so can Karen. Crazy RK logic. *shrugs* So sue me.
Cardiac arrest is one fancy term of saying you're having a heart attack. Another way of saying is myocardial infarction, MI, and/or acute MI. Courtesy of me taking Emergency First Responder classes, the remnants still lingering. An Emergency 1st Responder is lower than a paramedic or EMT (Emergency Medical Technician) but you can go up to those ranks with training and lessons. Despite being at a lower level, both Responder and EMTs are on the same field and they work together for major things, like a bombing at a mosque for example.
There's a reason why I chose to have Kevin with the Pontiac Firebird and Ken with the Toyota Tacoma; it's based on Kenshin's way of fighting back during the Bakumatsu and the Meiji Jidai. As Battousai, he needed speed to take his enemies down, both hitokiri and as bodyguard (would you want to be slow around the Shinsengumi? I think not). As Rurouni, he requires strength to beat the stuffing out of his opponents. Thus, the Firebird for speed and the Tacoma for power. Logical, no?
Surprised that I chose Kasumi as Kevin and Ken's mother? If ya folks are, get over the shock. That was partly on purpose, since the original Kasumi gave up her life to protect Shinta. She was the one who begged him to live out his life (either that or Sakura, since I posted that at the RKDreams forum), if I'm right on the names of the three girls. Thus, Kasumi to give birth to the twins, as a symbolic way of her protecting our lovable redheads.
"Banji" means "second born of twins" in African. In Japanese, it means "all; everything". Double play of words, for a silly reason. "Banji" as Ken's middle name and as a surname for his mother, who gave everything and took nothing in return. Another play on symbolism of me picking names to suit the characters.
Also shocked that Kevin has a son? I'll reveal more of the chibi later on. For now, all of you guys will have to suffer and agonize over the kid. Yes, he's married to Toni (Tomoe) and she might show up in the next part with another certain character and probably the kid as well. Kevin's boy is part from the thing where I kept thinking "What if Kenshin and Tomoe had a son before she died and he's looking for Papa Ryuu but not for revenge?" and this kinda came as a perfect chance. Not exactly the right timeline I was hoping for but it was the closest. Hey, it's AU. *shrugs*
Soujirou (Soren) as Kaoru's relative isn't so astounding to me. "Love & War" by Mizusato Houki (formerly Himura Kaoru) placed him as Kaoru's cousin. Sano as the older brother (step-brother, in this case) is based on how I see the big lug; he seems to treat her as the little sister he had left behind in order to join up with the Sekihoutai. Maybe it's because of watching the Jin-e part on Seisouhen. Go read the 2nd profile if you have to. And yes, I inserted the infamous "protective-big-brother-over-little-sister" gene into both boys. If you think that's bad, wait till you meet the oldest bro of Soren, Sam, and Karen. *wink* In some AU fics, he's already portrayed as Kaoru's big bro so it shouldn't be too much of a surprise for you guys.
Sam beating two hundred men up is directly based off of vol. 26 in the manga. Sano actually beat up this yakuza's goons, who were controlling his hometown through a phony silk business and a waylaid station. Other than the reason of protecting his former home, the yakuza's leader is the nephew of Tani, the fat pig Sano and Kenshin had to protect from Jin-e back in episode 6. Of course, still bearing his grudge against most surviving Ishinshishi, you get the picture.
http://www.maigo-chan.org/ruroken.htm
Choosing Soren as Crime Scene Investigator was tying him to Soujirou, being Shishio's right-hand and having killed his family as a child. Dealing with blood and other nasties on the street requires a strong stomach and Soujirou was the best one to fit the job.
Yes, there's an actual temple in Downtown Los Angles. As mentioned, it's called the Nishi Hongwanji Temple and it's not too far from Little Tokyo. There's also the Koyasan Buddhist Temple, the Jodo Shu Betsuin Buddhist Temple (also known as the Jodo Temple), the Zenshuji Temple, and the Higashi Honganji Buddhist Temple. I've yet to visit them, so I'll give 'em a try in the future.
http://www.niseiweek.org/fest_map.htm (actually a map of this year's Nisei Week Festival but it shows the important locations found in Little Tokyo)
The New Otani Hotel have a rooftop Japanese garden on the 3rd floor, if I read correctly (why they call it "roof-top garden" when it's on the third floor beats me). The "Garden in the Sky" can be reserved for wedding receptions, up to 200 guests, meetings, and other special occasions (at a good, darn price as well). As a Zen garden, it has all seven principles of Zen and it also incorporates the surrounding panorama. That's called "shakkei" or "borrowed landscape".
http:// www.newotani.com/
The seven principles of Zen:
Fukinsei - asymmetry or dissymmetry
Kanso - simplicity
Koko - austerity, maturity, bare essentials, venerable
Shizen - naturalness, absence of pretense
Yugen - subtly profound, suggestion rather than revelation
Datsuzoku - un-worldliness, transcendence of conventional
Seijaku - quiet, calm, silent
http://www.niwa.org/Nature.html
"Shuffle" by Masami Okui is the 2nd season OP to Yugi-Oh! or Duel Monsters. I like the fast pace of the song and the phrase "Just like cards" kinda represents our lives; some things are nothing more than chance at the draw.