[FIC] Handsome Otaku of Legend

[dd]

I brush against those freckles that I hated so,
Life goes on and I heave a little sigh for you.
It’s heavy, the love that I would share for you,
But it dissolves like it was just a sugar cube.
Now the little pain sitting in my heart
Has shrunk in a bit, but it really does hurt me now.
Those silly horoscopes, I
Guess I can’t trust them after all.

Restlessness. Fading in and out of sleep. Those lyrics. Just WHAT did they supposed to mean?

If we could get further away,
I wonder what it would be like…?
Yay!
I’d be so happy
Inside my heart.

Sobakasu. ”Freckles.” WHY???

All the memories I have are beautiful in my mind,
But they don’t feed the hunger deep inside my soul.
And tonight I thought,
I’d just be sitting in my sorrow.
And now I must wonder why.
What did it really mean to you?
I just can’t see it anymore!
I just can’t see it anymore……
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-oh-ohhhhhhhhhh……

The sounds echoed again and again. Who chose that song? What did it really have to do with what’s going on?

Things came in and out of focus. Thoughts jumped. Images followed, swirling and dissipating, then reforming different than before. Someone was speaking a prologue:

Amidst the chaos and bloodshed that accompanied the end of the Tokigawa regime, there was a manslayer in Kyoto nicknamed the Battousai who helped carve the way into the new Meiji era. It was said that he was undefeatable. Then one day, as the screams faded and the dust began to settle, the Battousai disappeared into the sunset.

Suddenly, things were sharp, colorful, full of smells and sounds. There was a mist rising, obscuring the 19th century Japanese architecture of the houses bordering the street. He looked in a large puddle, wondering at his own reflection. A young man of short to medium stature stared back, an X-shaped scar on his cheek, and his black hair somewhat disheveled. The image showed a sword at one hip, and a large black bag at one shoulder.

The odor from cook pots begged for attention, competing with the wind blown scent of cherry blossoms. A dog was barking in the distance. There was a sound of running feet.

“Hold it. Don’t move, Battousai The Manslayer! Prepare yourself. You are much weaker looking than I imagined.” Into the scene walks a full-figured young woman with long blue hair, brandishing a wooden sword, her eyes incredibly intense. She accuses the young man of being a mysterious killer who murdered three more people last night. Her sword swings out viciously. For a moment, its image wavers, taking on the form of a large paper fan.

The scar-faced man leaps to great height, alighting momentarily on the edge of a roof. The tiles crumble, and he falls into a pile of refuse below. Eyes wide, he calls out his disclaimer. “I’m a Wanderer. A Wanderer and a Specialist, nothing more.”

“Not an otaku?” The girls asks, skeptically.

“No.”

“Not some moody military maniac?” She wonders what is in the bag.

“No.”

“Then why the sword?” The wooden weapon taps against her leg.

“Here, look. It is a sakaba, a reverse-blade sword. And, it looks new, doesn’t it? I have proven my innocence, have I not?” He pulls out the blade.

“I am tired of your excuses! You know you’re not supposed to bring ANY kind of weapon into class. Big idiot!” The girl reached out and clobbered the young man with no apparent justification.

“Class?”

“O! What I meant to say was that you still look like some kind of criminal, and that it is illegal to even own a sword under Meiji rule.” The girl finishes her righteous declaration with a loud ‘Hmmppff!’

“It is not a problem.”

The sound of police whistles cut through the air.

“There’s something going on! It may be HIM.” The blue-haired girl ran off, heading towards the sound of a growing commotion.

“Weaklings! You are all a bunch of weaklings!” A huge masked man is swinging a bloody sword. Men lay bleeding and dying. Others frantically tried to defend themselves. “If I kill you all my sister will be happy, and I will be satisfied.” The attacker held his sword in his left hand.

“Battousai, hold it right there!” The blue haired girl struck out with her sword, missing. “You think you are the only one in the world without a mother. That moron Wanderer and I both face that same situation.”

The large killer struck back, slicing her in the shoulder. His next swing cut her wooden sword in two and almost took of her head. A third attack, in straight overhead, would have split her in twain. But, in timely fashion, the wanderer appears as if out of nowhere and blocks the next swipe with his own sword .

Many more police whistles sound.

“I am Battousai The Manslayer. I use the Kamiya Jindai style of sword fighting!” With that declaration, the large man with the young boy’s voice disappeared into the mist.

“It is rather reckless to use a wooden sword against a real one,” the Wanderer remarked. That would have been rebuke enough. He continued on, quoting military doctrine and mentioning countless situations where a wooden sword was inappropriate. The young woman finally passed out---whether it was from the pain of her wound, or the verbal onslaught of her rescuer, was uncertain.


*********************************


When the images changed again, The blue-haired girl is seen in her futon, just then waking in the new morning. There is a fresh bandage on her arm and around her upper chest. The smell of soup is everywhere.

"The wound I got from the Battousai. What happened?"

Walking out into the sharp morning air, she sees the Wanderer stirring a pot, dodging splashes of soup as two little girls drop ponderous vegetables into the cooking broth. A number of packages lay about, inscrutably labeled M.R.E.

“Excuse me, but what are you doing?” the girl asks. Reaching for her wooden sword, she realizes that she left it inside. No sword. No paper fan. She feels somewhat naked without them.

“I am creating a nutritious liquid solution from indigenous vegetable matter and spices. Vitamins and consistency are provide by judicious use of Meals Ready To Eat, the staple of any mobile military force.” The Wandered answered promptly, counting the number of times he stirred the soup.

“Soup? Are you trying to say you are cooking soup?” The blue-haired girl looked as if she had suddenly found herself conversing with a raccoon-dog or a potted plant. Either of those would have been slightly less comprehensible.

“Affirmative.” The Wanderer answered good-naturedly.

“Affirmative!” Kyouko, one of the small girls piped up.

“Affirmative!” Ren, the other small girl echoed.

“Are you trying to say ‘yes?’” The blue-haired girl asked, beginning to get exasperated.

“Affirmative.” The Wanderer answered, the epitome of consistency. “You’re young sisters have been very helpful to me. The one---Kyouko---makes it a point to sketch everything she sees. The other---Ren---would have the makings of a fine diplomat, were she a boy. We borrowed some items from your vegetable patch to make some breakfast.”

"He's our friend." Ren said.

"He's our friend!" Kyouko repeated.

“Actually, they are not my sisters. They are the granddaughters of Dr. Genzai. He’s been my surrogate father ever since my parents died.” As if on cue, a middle-aged black woman arrived carrying a leather doctor’s bag. She was there for only an instant. Her image gradually faded, reforming to that of an elderly oriental man with a physician’s cap. He inspected her wound and proclaimed it to be clean. The Wanderer’s bandage had been very well wrapped.

“I am surprised that you do not have a number of wounds yourself, young man.” Dr. Genzai remarked.

“Why is that?”

“Well, to wrap the bandage, you needed to remove her clothing. You also would have needed to manipulate her breast.” The doctor smiled

“My…breast….?” The blue-haired girl first looked confused. Then embarrassed. Then angry.

“Uh…” The Wanderer began sweating.

“MY BREAST?” The girl’s voice rose.

“Uh…yes…I did not take much notice…I was merely doing what was necessary….”

“Are…… you…… saying…… my…… breast…… is…… not…… worth…… looking……at…….?” The girls began to get red in the face.

“No!”

“So you DID look!” Her fits were now balled up.

“Should I stay around a bit longer?” Dr. Genzai asked, laughing. “Will the young man be needing my assistance?”

“Of course not.” The girl fought down her temper, not wanting to seem overly emotional. To distract herself, the young woman took a small saucer and filled it with soup. Tasting it, her eyes went wide and her smile vanished. She left and went back into one of the well-worn buildings that made up the Kamiya Jindai dojo.

“Is there a problem?” The Wanderer asked, seeing the young woman return holding a paper fan.

“It is not a problem,” the blue-haired girl replied, mimicking an early answer he gave. Without warning, she smacked him on the back of the head with the halisen, driving his head into the soup. “You just happen to be a better cook than me.”

Pulling his head out again, he spits out a mouthful of a large tuber and shakes off the dripping broth.

Seeing the fruits of her actions, the girl manifests a sudden change in heart. “O! You should be more careful! You certainly don’t look like a swordsman. You can stay here at our school if you like. You don’t look like you have a single coin to your name.”

“Uh….”

“Yes, you are rather scruffy looking.” The girl was not the kindest or most considerate woman in Tokyo.

"I..."

“Almost flea-bitten.” She was looking at him rather critically.

“Uh…”

“Good, that’s settled. You will be staying. Warrior's Compassion."

"But you really don't know who I am. Are you quite sure it's alright?"

"Didn't I just say that?" Her mood changed unbelievably fast.

The Wanderer simply nodded his head.

"My name is Kaname Kamiyo, by the way. I am the assistant instructor in the Kamiya Jindai Ryu founded by my father.” She gave him a tour of the dojo’s training hall and explained that the school had been set up to promote self-improvement without EVER encouraging killing.

"You forgot to mention 'The Sword that Revitalizes.' That has a catchy ring to it!"

Kaname turned to glare at the scar-faced boy. He slouched down and shut his mouth.

There was a loud knocking at the front gate.

“That’s my students! They will help me catch the Battousai tonight. That will clear my father's name!!!” Kaname had a huge grin on her face.

“Now you will get to see me in action.” She ran to open the gate. When she did, three boys stood there bowing, hats in their hands, a crestfallen look on each of their faces. “Right on time for your training. What’s wrong?”

“Teacher, we can no longer train here. We have come to tell you that we all quit.” One boy said, sounding as relieved as he did disappointed.

“Our friends are all making fun of us,” another boys said. “They say we are learning from the same dojo that trained the killer.” Under his voice he added “And they laugh at us for having a blue-haired bipolar girl as our instructor.”

“Yes, and our parents do not want us learning how to become murderers. We’ve tried to explain the truth to them, but they don’t want to listen. And, they say it is necessary for plot progression.” The third boy twisted his hat in his hand. He wanted to learn a martial art. It might prove a good way to pick up chicks some day.

“We are so sorry. We know we were the last students you had. We feel like we are letting you down.” The first boy bowed again, before they all took to their heels and beat a spritely retreat. In the distance, his voice could barely be made out. “At least it looks like she’s found some other clown to smack around.”


************************************************************


It was a terrible blow to the girl. The Wanderer was clueless when it came to women, but he could understand that much. Kaname had gone to take a soak in the bath.

“I don’t want to bother you. I think she’s crying!” Kyouko said.

“Let me see,” the Wanderer said, putting his ear to the wall. “Miss Kaname, are you OK?” He stopped stoking the fire for the bath.

There was no answer. The only sound had been that of someone completely submerging themselves. “She can‘t be!” He ran around inside the building. “You must NOT give up. Suicide is not the answer!” With a flying kick, he split the door in two, watching in slow motion as the pieces just missed the naked woman bursting up out of the water.

Naked woman…….

Totally unclothed woman……

Woman with both breasts uncovered…...

Furious woman reaching into the bath for a waterproof halisen……

Naked and totally unclothed woman with two exposed breasts, halisen in hand, leaping out of the bath, hounds of Hell at her command……

“PERVERT!!! BAKU!!! I hope you don’t give up. Suicide would be too easy for you.”

WHAMMM!!!

The first strike sent him through the bath house wall, barely missing Kyouko and Ren.

“O! Such a convincing act. He won’t look at a girl’s new bikini, but will gladly break in on her taking a bath!” Kaname followed the Wanderer outside, a towel wrapped around her.

“What?”

Bikini?

SMACKKK!!!

The next swing sent him up onto the roof temporarily. Kyouko and Ren jumped up and down clapping. The Wanderer was so much fun.

“But, I guess that’s better than have some blond girl in a towel lean out of your bathroom!” Her eyes were frightfully intense.

“But?”

Blonde girl?

THUDDD!!!

A solid kick sent the Wanderer flying, just missing the cook pot.

“What’s next? You planning on pretending to be some girl’s boyfriend, so you can kiss her without her permission?!” The towel on the girl momentarily vanished, replaced first by a 21st century school uniform, then by an attractive modern blouse and pants outfit Next, as if by magic, the towel was back again.

“Who?”

Kiss?

WHACKKK!!!

The final shot with the paper fan sent the Wanderer on a bee-line for the shed, painfully somersaulting him in through the open door. Kaname followed quickly behind, closing the boor, and bringing down the large door bar.

“Your clueless act will only go so far. NO ONE could be THAT oblivious. You will stay out here tonight. You should think about the bad thing that you did! You should ponder ALL of the stupid crazed otaku things that you do!” With a loud “Hmmmpppfff,” Kaname turned to leave.

“Before you go, a question needed to tie in with the plot. One based on something I saw that the writer did not want to mention until now. Did any of your father’s students have a broken or twisted right thumb? Did anyone mention Behemoth or A21?” The Wander stool behind the locked door, a serious look on his face.

“WHAT? The Kamiya Jindai Ryu does NOT produce killers. My father NEVER trained any terrorists. I swear, every where you look, you see some conspiracy, plot, pending attack, or danger. Why can’t you just be a normal teenage boy!” Kaname came close to hyperventilating. “Jerk!!!”

“Kaname, you sound like you know me…” The Wanderer said, perplexed.

“No. You missed the point again. I sound like I wish I DIDN’T know you!!!” With that she turned and left.


********************************************

Kaname kept flipping back and forth under her blanket. She couldn’t sleep. Why was she getting so upset over some scraggly no good Wanderer? It wasn’t as if she really knew him, after all. Why was she saying such bizarre things?

It was the middle of the night. The crickets were loud, but the dojo was otherwise dead quiet. She thought about his words again, and realized he wasn’t making any accusations. He was only trying to help. Another realization struck her. It was well past the time she was supposed to start acting nice to him again. There was a pattern to maintain: nice…… nasty…… nice ……ambiguous …..nasty…… nice…… something like that. She put on her heavy robe and walked outside, making her way to the shed.

“Wanderer? I wanted to see if you were OK. I may have been a bit rough on you earlier. It’s not as if you left my assignment back at your last home… brought a contagious substance into the dojo… or went about setting up traps for all of the artists in town.” Kaname listened at the door. There wasn’t the slightest sound.

“Hey! Moron. Big Idiot! I’m trying to apologize here.” Still, no reply.

“You make it really easy to hate you!!!” In a major huff, she kicked down the door. No one was there. The bed clothes and bedding were laying in the middle of the floor, neatly folded.

“He’s gone. I didn’t even have a chance to learn his name. It was probably ‘Duty’ or 'Practicality.’ Something like that. Well, if he has gone off on some kind of mission, at least I problem won’t know if he gets himself killed….”


************************************************************


Back inside the dojo, Kaname suddenly remembered that the Kamiya school DID once have a troublesome student, about eleven years earlier. She remembered standing outside of the doorway to the training room, watching as all of the students were standing around:

A large student, named Gohei Takuma, was sparring with a less talented fellow student. He was using a huge red sword, seemingly two large to be held by anyone. His opponent was woefully matched, using only a wooden training sword.

“I can’t be stopped. You fools are no match for me. My sister wants me to become a killer.” The blood on his sword flies off as he brings it back, ready to strike again.

“you will not hurt another student!” It was Kaname’s father. At first, he seemed to be wearing some strange short robe, leggings of some kind, and a small colorful kite around his neck. Then, he was back in his familiar robe.

“My sword thirsts for more blood. It wants YOURS!!!” Takuma rushed towards Kaname’s father. Kaname wanted to help, but didn’t know how. Somehow, she heard voices in her head. They told her what to tell her father.

"Yes, if you want to fight someone, FIGHT ME!!!" Her father stood in a heroic pose.

"Bring it on!!!" The eagerness was a palpable thing.

“Father! Go for his fingers on his sword hand!” It was the only way. Her father did not condone killing or serious injuries. The voice was right.

Her father brought the sword down sharply, mangling the much larger man’s right thumb. “You will never hold a sword in that hand again. You are expelled. I do not ever want to see you back in this dojo again.”

On the floor, holding his thumb in agony, the man turned crazed eyes on Kaname. His face held insanity and an unspeakable promise.


Ruffling through scroll after scroll, Kaname came across the one she needed. She was right. The name was there. Crossed out with broad ink strokes: Gohei Takuma.

The door to the dojo burst inward. The Devil would have been no less welcome a guest. It was Takuma. He was accompanied by more than a dozen of his cronies. They were all armed with swords.

Grabbing a wooden sword from a nearby rack, Kaname rushed at the large man. “I won’t let you smear the name of Jindai anymore!” She knew her attack had no hope whatsoever. But, this is how things went in the first episode of the anime.

Her attack was easily parried. Before she knew it, her neck was firmly in the grip of her hated adversary. Her feet kicked as her body dangled far off of the floor. Struggle as she might, she could not break free.

“I’ve waited eleven years for this moment!” Takuma gloated. “Finally, I will have my revenge on you and this school. The Kamiya Jindai Ryu will be no more.” His laughter echoed about the dojo. “Whose sword wants to taste this chickadee’s flesh?”

“I know mine does!” One of the flunkies shouted. The others soon followed suit. Weapons drawn, they smiled as they advanced.

An explosion blew three men into the room, two of them stunned. “I… I…. I’m sorry…..” The third man lost consciousness immediately after he gave the dramatic apology.

“You! I should have killed you earlier.” Takuma shouted, seeing the Wanderer walk into the building, a fierce look on his face.

“If you leave now, you will save yourself a great deal of pain.” The scar-faced boy asserted.

“Only pain?” Takuma asked. “Are you another fool who believes that a sword is supposed to protect people? Another sap who thinks that a sword can bring out a person’s potential?” He roared with laughter. His followers did the same, the lust for battle written clearly on their faces.

“No. That is sweet and innocent talk that only those whose hands have not been stained with the blood of man can truly believe. There is no room for two people that simple-minded in the same story.” The Wanderer looked around the room, taking note of everyone’s position.

“You….” Kaname had started off with a big grin on her face. It had quickly disappeared.

“Simple-minded? You can say that again!” Takuma laughed.

“Dumb!” One of the henchmen acclaimed.

“Really really stupid!” Another chipped in.

“The sword is a weapon,” the Wanderer continued. “Swordsmanship…and the art of small arms use…is learning how to kill. That is the truth.” He threw his large black bag to the floor. It landed with a solid metallic Clank. “What Miss Kaname says is hopeful but comical, that it is. Much like the stuff she tries to pass off as cooking.”

“YOU….” Kaname’s eyes began to bulge, but not because of the pressure on her throat.

“I heard about that!” Takuma said, shivering for an instant.

“Yeh! She won’t kill with a sword, but she’ll feed people that stuff.” One of the men looked as if he were about to gag.

“Brutal!” Another man fell to his knees, then pretended to keel over.

“But, I must admit that I much prefer Miss Kaname’s sweet and innocent talk to the truth, that I do.” The young man stretched out his arms and worked the kinks out of his neck. “I hope it becomes a truth we can all live by.” Part of him embraced that thought. Another part was not so sanguine.

The images blurred for a moment, replaced by a different set altogether. There were scenes of battle with large metal machines. Things exploded. Men ran burning. Buildings lay in ruins. People with weapons were torn asunder by various weapons. The sense of purpose was unmistakable. Obliterate the enemy. Destroy everything. Only Mithril could hope to salvage the situation.

The scene dissolved as a new one faded, solidified, faded, and solidified once more. A pistol fired. Rubber bullets hit criminals, attackers, and other miscreants. They fell to the ground, stunned but very much alive. The underlying imperative was all encompassing. Do not kill. Keep to the shadows. Protect the Whispered girl. Maintain strictest secrecy.

Finally, the images returned to where they had originally been.

“I hope it becomes a truth we can all live by,” the young scarred swordsman said.

Kaname, a shocked look on her face, began to smile a shy smile.

“WHY?” Takuma was aghast. “What could make a swordsman say such a thing?”

“Probably hit too many times in the head!” One crony quipped.

“No, I bet he just wants to get laid!!!” That suggestion was met by a chorus of throaty chuckles.

“With her?” The Wanderer asked. The men went dead silent. They looked over at Kaname. Each one then shook his head.

“Sorry!” One man said.

“Our mistake.” Another sounded apologetic.

“Got caught up in the moment.” That henchman’s statement brought nods and verbal affirmation.

“It is not a problem.” The scar-faced boy said. “The lighting in here is not the best. Incandescent lights will prove to be a boon some day.”

“Y-O-U-!-!-!” Kaname almost managed to slip free.

“Well, that ought to do it. I’ve said more than enough to get myself in serious hot water, that I have” the Wanderer stated amiably. That seemed to be another of his purposes---enraging the blue-haired girl.

“What are you waiting for? Get him and make him die slowly!!!” Takuma roared.

“I was hoping no one would have to get hurt.” The Wanderer said.

“Nobody’s going to get hurt,” one of the swordsmen laughed. “Somebody’s going to get dead!”

“If only,” the young warrior mumbled under his breath. A sudden change came over him, as if he were an entirely different person, with a different set of memories. He hoped that the writer would allow him a little latitude here. Maybe a whole lot of longitude, too!

“Get him!!!” Takuma yelled. “Get him, or you’ll have to face my sister.”

The ruffians all charged at once. The Wanderer moved with incredible speed. Drawing his sword, he felled five of the men before they could blink.

“It seems he can predict where people are going to be and get there ahead of them. And with that sword, he won’t have to kill anyone.“ Kaname felt a great upwelling of hope. Part of her knew that her emotions were setting her up for a fall.

The Wanderer then stopped, looked at his sword, and shook his head.

The sword fell to the floor.

“He’s unarmed. Kill him!” Takuma called out.

The men ran forward again. This would be easy. And, there was nothing more satisfying than carving up an unarmed man.

The young man was not unarmed. They all came to that realization too late. He held something in his hand. It was roughly the size and shape of a pistol, but it didn’t look like the black powder weapons of that age.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

Men flew backward, hit in the head, chest, or limbs. Swords clattered to the floor. Groans replaced the eager calls for blood.

Shot three times in the groin, Takuma dropped Kaname, who quickly scampered for cover, a look of sheer disbelief on her face.

“What the Hell is that?” One man cried, holding his abdomen.

“Glock 17,” the Wanderer answered, holding up the gun.

“Huh???” Most of the men had come to a dead standstill, looks of bewilderment on their faces.

“Glock 17,” the scar-faced hero repeated. “Called the P80 in Austria, Australia, Sweden, New Zealand, the Netherlands, and others countries that officially adopted it, the Glock 17 was the first of a new batch of polymer framed pistols. Some fools believed that the gun was invisible to metal detectors, but those wild stories bypassed the fact that the so-called ‘Plastic Gun’ had a slide, barrel, and other parts made from steel, that it did.”

Kaname first looked confused, then changed over to looking annoyed.

“Metal detector?” One man asked.

“Polymer?” Another inquired.

“Exactly,” the Wanderer said. “To be developed in the 1980s, the Glock 17 will become a very well known pistol, alongside the Colt Government and the Beretta M92. Lighter in weight than those two contemporary pistols, it is an ideal weapon to carry. It is hammerless, and has a single action trigger. The gun is a pleasure to shoot, that it is.”

Bang Bang

The young man shot the nearest man in the face and chest. He flew backward, crashing into a wall.

“Nice!” Takuma said, an envious look on his face.

“Very!!!” Another man put in.

“Why?” The man who was shot looked at his hands. He had rubbed his painful areas. There was no blood.

“Rubber bullets,” the Wanderer answered.

Kaname frowned, her brow furrowed. Only a military freak would think of something like that. Still, it did preserve the general principles of the Kamiya Jindai Ryu.

Inexplicably, Kyouko walked in, seemingly unfazed by the ruffians and their swords. Unfazed and unseen. “You find him interesting, don‘t you?” She then vanished.

“What?!” Kaname exclaimed loudly. Everyone turned to look at her.

“Sorry,” she said. “Please continue.”

“Where was I?” The young hero scratched his head. Then he nodded. “Yes. It can hold 16+1 of the 9mm rounds. Semi-automatic fire. Range 165 feet. Only 1.5 lbs in weight. Barrel length 4.5 inches. Made in Austria. Current cost around 17,800 Yen. The 17L is a longer slide version of the 17 used for target shooting. The Glock 18 is similar, but is designed to be fired semi-automatic or fully automatic. The Glock 19 is nothing more than a compact Glock 17.”

The attackers all nodded their heads, impressed.

“Quite the otaku.” Takuma spat, beginning to grow impatient.

“You think???” Kaname groused. “Can we get this over sometime tonight?”

“It is not a problem.” The scarred-swordsman had an infuriating way of avoiding admonishment.

The men who were still able to walk ran forward again. They were bunched fairly tightly, due to the confines of the room.

Bang Bang Bang Bang Bang

Men stumbled back again, some out of the fight for good. They were the lucky ones.

The Wanderer threw the pistol back in his bag. He now held two knobbed green items in his hands. A pin pulled out of one, it bounced across the floor, landing at the feet of the oncoming hoard.

BOOOOM!!!

Wood from the floor spun across the room. Swords flew, embedding themselves in floor, walls, and ceiling. Bodies were thrown clear across the room. Body parts traveled even further.

A head rolled to a grotesque stop, right in front of Kaname.

“Wanderer….” She said, the gorge rising up in her throat.

“Can’t anyone stop him? My sister is going to be pissed!” Takuma shuddered, imagining what she would do to him.

Because it was a dream---and a dream based on anime---the men gathered up their courage and charged again. They stopped when the Wanderer held up his hand.

“This is a grenade,” he lectured, holding up the remaining explosive device.

The attacking men lowered their swords. Some asked Miss Kaname if she had anything to drink.

“A grenade is a small explosive, chemical, or gas bomb. The word ‘grenade’ comes from the French word for pomegranate. The weapon first came into significant usage in the 15th century, the initial versions consisting of hollow iron balls filled with gunpowder and ignited by a slow-burning wick.”

“I didn’t know that.” One man said, making the mistake of biting into a rice ball that Kaname had made. He spat it out on the floor.

“Me either.” Said another man.

“If I knew we was gonna be learned stuff, I would have brought some friends.” That man drew curious looks from his comrades. “Well, I woulda!”

“For God’s sake, DON’T encourage him.” Kaname said, moments before striking the man who dissed her rice cake. “This is a non-violent dojo.” She struck the man three more times. His teeth rolled about the floor like lopsided dice.

Hearing Kaname, the young man smiled. “By the 19th century, grenades will have fallen out of use. They will not see extensive use again until the Russo-Japanese War. The first ‘safe’ grenade, the Mill’s Bomb, won’t come about until 1915. This is the Mark II A1, fitted with an M10A3 fuse. This model will be heavily used during a land war in Korea. It is a fragmentation type, in contrast to concussion grenades, White Phosphorous grenades, practice grenades, and training grenades.”

The Wanderer passed the Mark II A1 about the room for everyone to see. They marveled at the size and weight of it. When it came to Kaname, she began to run off, intending to get rid of it.

“Well, in Miss Kaname’s absence, I suppose we could discuss what happened this morning. It had to do with a bath house…… a certain naked woman---let’s call her Kaname-X for the sake of privacy…… and a clueless wandering swordsman who looked a great deal like me.”

“Alright!” Takuma said. ‘This ought to be good. I think we have a few minutes for this. Screw my sister, if she can’t let men have some time to be men.’

“Yowzer!” One man said, close to hyperventilating.

“Are there any chairs around here?” Another man asked.

“Here!” Kaname slammed the grenade in the Wanderer’s hand. She had wanted to pull the pin and drop it inside his trousers. “Have your fun now,” she whispered, up close. “Sooner or later, your day will come. Hmmppff!”

For the first time that night, the young swordsman knew fear. Pulling himself together, he was about to explain how a grenade worked, but decide against it when he looked at Kaname. She had walked over to a practice dummy. After mouthing ‘Get on with it,’ she began ramming her wooden sword into the dummy’s groin area.

He was beginning to understand how the emotionally labile young woman operated. He could picture what might happen if he prolonged matters any further:

”When the pin is pulled, the safety latch will no longer stay in place on it’s own.”

“No one wants to hear that!” WHACK.

“Ooooof. When the grenade is thrown, a spring throws off the safety lever and rotates the striker onto the primer.”

“I’ll give you a primer. On shutting up!” WHAM.

“Arrrhhh. The primer contains material like the head of a match. When struck by the striker, it ignites and sets fire to the fuze, or powder train, The fuze burns at a controlled rate, providing a time delay, usually four to five seconds.”

“No delaying THIS!” SWACK.

“Ouuuwww. When the flame of the fuze reaches the detonator or igniter, it causes action on the filler.”

“YOU are certainly full of something. Jerk!” SLAM.

“Urrfff. A detonator is similar to a small blasting cap. Very sensitive to heat, when the fuze burns into it, it causes the grenade to explode.”

“Like this?” WACK WHAM SWACK SLAM.

“Errrrrr. An igniter is a cap that burns rapidly. It basically sets fire to the filler causing a rapidly expanding gas which bursts the container.”

“Burst? I like burst!” WHACK WHACK WHAM SWACK SWACK SLAM.

“In the interest of time, gentlemen.” The young otaku swordsman shook away the pictures in his head as he spoke. He pulled the pin and tossed the second grenade. The subsequent explosion was even more devastating than the first. Support beams from the ceiling broke free and threatened to fall, along with half the roof. One wall was peppered with a myriad of small holes. Blood and brains painted a horrendous mural around the periphery of the room. One man held his head, blood squirting out from between his fingers---his entire face was gone. Intestines slithered out of bodies, coiling on the pock-marked floor.

An arm pin-wheeled across the dojo, smacking Kaname across the face and knocking her over.

“WANDERER….” she growled, feeling faint.

“That’s the last of the infernal things. Kill him. Kill him as many times as you like!!!” Froth flew from Takuma’s lips.

The surviving men held their swords at the ready. The Wanderer’s hands were empty. His sword was across the room. None of the dead men’s weapons were within easy reach. This should be a piece of cake.

“You are all evil men. If you are not stopped, you will go on to harm the helpless. That can not be allowed to happen.” The Wanderer stuck his foot into his bag, looped a strap around it with one deft motion, then kicked something into the air. Catching it in his hand, he brought it to bear on the men, who quickly slid to a halt. “This is a Steyr TMP. It---”

“SHHHUUUTTT UPPPPPPPPP!!!” Kaname had shouted at the top of her lungs.

The scar-faced young man decided not to press his luck. Besides, the story had dragged on more than enough already.

Rata tat Rata tat Rata tat Rata tat Rata tat Rata tat Rata tat Rata tat

Bullets flew from the strange weapon in the scar-faced boy’s hand. Men folded up like collapsible wooden chairs. Others staggered backwards with their arms flailing, as a sodden Thwock Thwock Thwock Thwock sound hallmarked the frightful perforation of their bodies. Crimson fountains of blood jumped skyward, as corpses fell heavily to the floor.

One by one, the ruffians fell dead or dying.

A number of stray bullets struck a plaque on the wall. The simple wooden item---inscribed with the names of previous students of the Kamiya Jindai Ryo---feel smack dab on the top of Kaname’s head.

“WANDERER!!!”

Takuma looked at the scar on the young warrior’s face, as if taking note of it for the first time. “A man of short stature. A cross-shaped scar. It can’t be. Hitokiri Battousai.”

“Yes,” the Wanderer said, picking up his sword and dropping the submachine gun. “By the way, the Battousai does not use the Kamiya Jindai style. Niether does he use whatever style you use. He uses the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, ultrasonic sword technique, which will not fail to slay an opponent unless you use a sword such as this one.”

“So that means you are the REAL Battousai,” Kaname said. “The ultimate otaku.”

“Interesting," Takuma spat. "But there is only room for one Battousai in the world. We’ll have to see who is worthy of that title. After I defeat you, I will burn this place down, then kill the girl. I’ll toss out all of her damn rice cakes as well!”

“I guess I have no choice then.”

“You’ll fight for me?” Kaname asked, her eyes growing large.

“I just hate to see food go to waste,” the Battousai answered.

“You’ll pay." Kaname seethed. "O yes you will…”

“DIE BATTOUSAI!!!” Takuma shouted, then swept his sword in a murderous arc that would have killed any ordinary swordsman or a secondary character in an anime show.

"I can live with that...." Kaname mumbled.

“Over here!!!“ The Battousi said, up near the blood-stained ceiling. “Hiten Mitsurugi style, something or other!” The scar-faced boy descended, bring his sword across the knuckles on Takuma’s left hand with a sickening Crunch. The follow through drove the man’s head through the floor boards.

“I have no attachment to the name Battousai. Just the same, I cannot allow someone like you to wear that name. I’m afraid you’ll no longer be able to hold a sword in either of those hands now.”

“How about ‘Moron?’” Kaname asked.

“Huh?”

“Could you have an attachment to the name ‘Moron?’” The look on her face was rather sour.

“Uh….”

“What about ‘Jerk?’” It didn’t matter what he said. She would work out a lot of names for him.

“Errr….”

“’Big Idiot?’” They all felt right.

“Ummm….”

The Battousai turned to the one man left living and conscious.

“I don’t believe you actually killed most of them." That man said. "That’s NOT the way it was supposed to happen.” The man shook with fear.

“Tell me about it,” Kaname said. “Moron. Jerk. Big idiot!!!”

“I’m not in control of this dream,” the Battousai said.

“Lame excuse!” Kaname said, kicking a piece of the broken floor with her foot. “Loser!” That was another good one.

“Go to the police,” the young man said to the survivor while ignoring Kaname. “Tell them what this man has been doing.” He nodded towards Takuma. “If you know his sister’s whereabouts---or have knowledge about any remaining A21 members---let them know.”

The man ran screaming from the dojo.


*****************************************


“Battousai the Manslayer,” Kaname said while looking at the man in question. She found it hard to come to grips with the fact that the Battousai had bandaged her….. cooked her miso soup….. played so innocently with Kyouko and Ren…..and saw her naked. Her anger began building up again.

“I am sorry Miss Kaname, that I am. “I didn’t mean to hide my identity from you. It was a parameter of my mission. I could not break cover, not even for you.” He shook his head, clearing out the cobwebs. “No, I guess I just didn’t want you to know if you didn’t have to.”

That last line had been said with an openness and earnestness that froze Kaname. Tossing her hair, she wanted to hear more heartfelt truths from him. Things felt right somehow. Perhaps her life was about to make a dramatic turn for the better. Yeh, right!

“Well, take care.” The Battousai simply turned and began to walk out of the building.

“YOU JERK!!!” Kaname yelled out, hands clenched and eyes flashing.

“Huh….”

“MORON!!!”

“What….”

“FREAK!!!”

“How….”

“A-S-S-H-O-L-E!!!”

The scar-faced boy froze. His eyes got very wide. He took greater notice of what Kaname was trying to say. She must really be upset. What could he have possibly done that would anger her???

“So you are just going to let me stay here to clean up by myself? You weren’t going to offer me any help?” Kicking away some debris, she lifted a wall panel and picked up one of her halisens.

“Uh….”

“I can’t rebuild the Jindai style all alone.” She swung the halisen, loosening up her arm.

“Uh….”

“I told you before that I didn’t care about your past. I was lying. But if you were a gentleman, you’d believe it just the same.” She tossed the paper fan in the air and then caught it.

“Uh…”

“BATTOUSAI!!!” The blue-haired girl screeched. “Is that all you can say?”

“Uh…”

“OOOOOOH!” Kaname drew blood when she bit down hard on her lip. The veins at her temples pulsed.

“Miss Kaname?”

“You have the nerve to introduce yourself as a Sergeant in front of the class---then say you came from Afghanistan, Lebanon, Cambodia, Iraq, and Columbia---and all you can say is ‘Uh….’” Kaname held up one finger.

“Well….”

Sergeant? Class?

“You have the gall to walk into the girls’ locker room---then say you want to join the girls’ softball team when you get caught---and all you can say is ‘Uh….’” Kaname held up another finger.

“I….”

Locker room? Softball?

“You leave an important assignment of mine at home---then get us chased by a crazy cop---and all you can say is ‘Uh….’” A third finger went up.

“Errr….”

Cop?

“You tackle me because you think the artwork bust I am carrying is the head of an attacker---then make up some nonsense about slipping from all the way across the room---and all you can say is “Uh….’” That finger made four.

“When….”

Artwork bust?

“You rescue me from a speeding truck that I walk in front of---but then ruin the mood by putting your hand some place it should not be---and all you can say is “Uh….’” She wrapped all five fingers of that hand around the halisen. She held the other hand up, all fingers extended.

“Ummm….”

Truck?

“You ignore my brand new bathing suit---and proceed to cover me with water melon pulp---and all you can say is ‘Uh….’” She folded one finger down.

“I….”

A suit for bathing?

“You follow me everywhere, jump out of a speeding train, then get caught holding my panties---claiming it is all ‘coincidence’---and all you can say is “Uh….’” A second finger joined the first.

“Where….”

It wasn’t time for the train episode yet.

“You totally forget a study session I prepared for---then present me with flash bang earrings and a locator bracelet---and all you can say is ‘Uh….’” Three fingers down now.

“Errr….”

What could they possibly be studying? Swordsmanship? Cooking? But they had just met….

“You ask me if I want to go to a tropical island---but take me to meet with HER---and all you can say is ‘Uh….’” Just one more finger to go now.

“Who….”

Exactly.

Kaname stopped to glare at the Battousai. Her look would have caused the Grim Reaper himself to soil his drawers. Sousuke gulped.

“O, I almost forgot. Before that, you were lucky enough for me to come by and apologize---but SHE was there, wrapped only in a towel---and all you can say is ‘Uh….’” The last finger came down.

Kaname smiled sweetly.

Then like a cobra, she struck.

WHAM!!!

The force of the halisen tossed the Battousai out through one wall.

WHACK!!!

A second swipe sent him flying like loose laundry on a windy day.

KAPOW!!!

A golf shot put him dead center in the middle of the road outside of the school.

“Where’s a TAXI when you need one?” Kaname mumbled under her breath. Then again, the taxi would probably miss.

She wouldn’t.

The blue-haired girl dragged a near comatose young man back into the dojo.

When the Battousai awoke, he picked up where he had left off earlier. “As I was saying, Miss Kaname, now that this incident is over, it would only bring you more trouble to have the real Battousai staying here.” He picked up his weapons bag and shouldered it.

“Haven’t you figured it out yet? Big stupid head!” Kaname was in a huff again. But, her eyes had softened considerably.

“Kaname?”

“I don’t want the Battousai. I don’t need the guy who kills people, blows things up, puts me in trouble, then saves me from danger.” She sighed.

“I want the Wanderer. I need the boy who would watch after me when I was out with another guy. The one who would be worried if he thought I was covered with blood instead of red paint. Someone who would say that he could do anything just because I was there with him.”

“I see.”

“Well, if you insist on going. Can you at least tell me your name. And I don’t mean the The Legendary Manslayer.”

“Himura. It’s Sousuke Himura.” For a moment the image wavered, replaced by a young man wearing a school uniform. He was flanked by a happy-go-lucky man with blonde hair and a shapely but hard-boiled woman with a cigarette in her mouth. Then, as quickly as that image had come, it was gone.

“I guess you should be on your way then….” Kaname said, turning away.

She heard the door to the building close.

She waited.

Any time now.

She waited some more.

It didn’t take this long in the anime.

She began tapping her foot impatiently.

She kicked a head out of the way, then walked over and rammed a rice cake down the throat of an unconscious Takuma. She still did not look towards the door.

“What is taking you so damn long? Say something!” It clearly said in the script that he would close the door…. she would think he had left….. he would speak up and everything would be perfect.

She turned around.

Sousuke was gone.

She didn’t take time to open the door. She ran through the door. Then, across the yard. Next, into the street.

He was there, walking slowly along, one sandaled foot following the other. He never looked back. It was just like he was going off on another assignment, without leaving word.

“SOUSUKE!!!”

“Uh….”

He turned, a clueless expression on his face.

WHAM!!! SPLATTT!!!

The Wanderer and erstwhile Battousai landed headfirst in the roadside brook. Fireflies danced about his wiggling legs and feet.

“I must admit I am tired of wandering,” Sousuke said when he finally managed to leave the water and pull a small fish out of his mouth.

Good Answer.

Kaname visibly relaxed.

“Although, you will never know when I will have to hit the road again….”

NOT a good answer.

Kaname had visions of Sousuke hitting the roof. Hitting the side walls. Hitting the shed. Hitting the front gate. Hitting everything except the road.

“I’m a pretty lousy cook….”

That was an easy enough admission to make.

“Yes, but you’re a whole lot better than I am!” Kaname said, pushing her hair around.

She smiled.

“True. But, who isn’t?”

Uh Oh!

WHAM!!! WHACK!!! CONK!!!

Kaname didn’t stay angry for too long. She offered to bandage the wounds she had just given.

Sousuke opened his mouth to speak, but then stopped.

“What is it, Sousuke?” Kaname was truly curious, not concerned.

“Uh….”

“SOUSUKE….”

Here we go again…

“Uh….”

“SOUSUKE!!!”

The volume of her voice caused a plaque to fall off of the dojo wall.

“The script. I do not think that I should say the next lines.”

“It’s alright, Sousuke. I won’t blame you.” She honestly believed that. How, no one could say. But she did believe.

“Truthfully?”

“It is not a problem.” There was a sweet smile on her face. She was glad to throw his line back at him.

“OK then,” Sousuke said. He actually returned her smile. “I might accidentally see you take a bath.”

SLAMMM!!!

There was another hole in the school wall.

And that’s how it all happened. A new boarder started living at the Kamiya dojo.


*****************************************


The colors began to swirl again, then fade to black. Sleep finally reached out and took complete command. The words chased him as he headed into the deep deep peace:


When I first saw you looking at me...
The gleaming of eyes made my heart skip a beat...
My body felt nervous and my heart began to pound...
As this test of love had brought me to my knees..
Feeling the pulse of the space from you an me...
The love that I felt made me shake, made me weak...
A modern day spell and there's nothing I can do, as the day turns into night, I aim for you...

Soon I am hoping I will taste your luscious lips...
Fine like the wine just beyond my finger tips...
A man and a woman will find true eternity...
Underneath the magic of the full moon...

Passionate lady, ah gimme your love.
Mysterious lady, I need your love.
The spell you got me under, your eyes that make me wonder...
Is this a fantasy, or is love for real?

Do you want me lady? ah gimme your love.
I feel you coming lady, I need your love.
All those things you do to me, they lock me up and set me free...
Fever of this crazy love dances with a passion in my heart..


************************************************************

[HELLFIRE]

the never-resting pen of dd writes again! Hey, isn't the weather warmer
so now you won't be writing as much? Let me guess, school festival
time, and Sousuke drew the role of the wandering, sword-slinging Ronin
and Kaname got the lead role... and ANOTHER chance to have her blood
pressure blasted into orbit







Regards

[dd]

Still close to freezing here...

Sousuke stayed up too late watching a RK marathon, falling asleep somewhere near episode 11/12.

[HELLFIRE]

I wonder if Sousuke even dreams at night... RK marathon, huh?
Oh, boy... neer mind THIS samurai boy's packing a few grenades,
lethal and non-lethal; knives of every description; tear gas... and
enough C-4 to bring the house down!!

...write away, dd!








Regards

[PookaKitten]

FMP! meets RK!?!? Took me a bit to pick up on that. Good. Looking forward to more.

Samantha

[Taurec]

LMAO .. .

[dd]

Well, there's the Sousuketized version of the first RK episode.

It's the rough draft. Or could be the final draft. Let me know what you think. I may or may not change anything.

There's always room for more in that vein; but, it would probably stand well alone.

[Belisarius]

* pokes head out of the ground*

I liked it, dd, but one problem.

What's RK?

[dd]

RK = Rurouni Kenshin

[pilot03]

Samurai X for the OVA's.