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."
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."