Note: Wow. It's been a long time and my author is finally back...
somewhat. :) Kudos if you can guess (and/or care) who this is, if you
can't, well, don't worry about it. ;) It doesn't matter. This -is- my
first lemon, so, be gentle. Maybe. Comments can be public or private, just
make sure the title remains so I'll catch them.
--<begin fic here>--
Warmth in the Chill of Winter
a Rurouni Kenshin/Sakura Taisen crossover lemon
by Fujii Yakumo (yakumo (at) thekeep (dot) org)
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin and associated characters are copyright();
Sakura Taisen and associated characters are copyright RED and Sega. The
author claims no ownership of copyrighted characters and names and
acknowledges that this work is produced without express, written
authorization of the copyright holders. This work is produced on a
non-profit basis, but the author claims copyright on the actual text and
story contained within this file. Right of reproduction is given freely,
on the condition that the work not be altered in any way, and that all
attributions to author and copyright remain unaltered as well.
Warning!: This is a lemon. Although it's a while before the sex part,
it -does- happen. If you're under 18 years of age, don't read this.
Also--the characterizations in this story are from my POV, so, if you
disagree, that's great--but that's not going to change my story any.
Author's Note: This is a once-off story, a crossover that exists for
no other reason than both Shinguuji Sakura and Himura Kenshin both
exist as two of my favorite sword-wielding characters out of anime
and game. I try to imply nothing; this story has no real basis in
either canon, and I don't try to pretend otherwise. But, for a
timeline's sake, this occurs after the events of the Kenshin OAVs
and before the TV series, and doesn't occur anywhere at all within
the Sakura Taisen storyline, except at some unstated point during
the first 'series' (or game).
* * * * * * * * * *
December, <insert year here>
It was a cold, snowy morning, the sunlight gleaming strong and harsh
off the hard, white crust of ice that sheathed the pond and the small
cherry tree nearby. The stranger--always a stranger--shook the new-fallen
snow off his cloak and arose, unmindful of the biting cold of winter. He
reached into his cloak, withdrawing the small rice cake he had salvaged
from last night's dinner, and bit off a chunk, eating slowly, thoughfully.
He could not stay much longer--it wasn't wise. There were always people
hunting him. Hunting his name. Slipping out of his cloak, he revealed
the blood-red hair and the violet eyes that belonged to the most perfect
killer--Hitokiri Battousai, assassin of the Meiji order. He would move
on, today, he thought, his violet eyes colder than the morning winds off
the peaks, into the mountains. He would hole up there; the hunters
wouldn't go into the desolate wilderness to find him. Perhaps he could
slip around, to the other side.
With that thought, he left the quiet temple whose yard he had
borrowed for a night, his sandal-soled footsteps crunching in the soft
snow as he headed towards the grey, rocky peaks. He would, as he always
did, make good time. A gust of wind tore at his wide, peaked hat--he
reached up with one hand and held on to it, lest his cover be blown away.
* * * * * * * * * *
December, <insert year here>
"C'mon, Sakura!! We've only got a few days left before the show
opens, stop daydreaming!" scolded Sumire, ever-edgy and frustrated at her
costar for the current Hanagumi production, one designed for the winter.
Everyone was edgy, but it was Sumire who showed it the most, growing ever
more imperious and bossy with each passing day. Sheepishly, Sakura
apologized and rehearsal began again.
"My fair princess," intoned Sakura, in her role as the princess'
confidante, "what bothers you? You seem unusually distressed this morn."
Sumire, in the role of princess (and how appropriate!, Sakura
thought), shook her head artfully. "My dearest friend," Sumire moaned, "I
find myself at a loss... I wish... I wish to be--"
But Sumire never got to finish that thought. As if on cue, alarms
began to sound, alerting the Hanagumi to a more immediate matter.
Sumire was outraged. "What?? An attack?? NOW?" She stormed off,
determined to defeat the marauding invaders that interrupted her scene.
The others followed, setting aside their jobs as actresses to fight this
war against the menaces that had plagued Tokyo for some time.
The battle was fairly quick--the outraged Hanagumi making short work
of their opponents. But Oogami wasn't sure the battle was done.
"Shinguuji-san, please check the northeastern quadrant one last time."
Sakura was only too happy to oblige--and, she found, it turned out
that Oogami's suspicions were correct. She found a pair of
demonic-looking entities scurrying into a dark alley. "Dismounting to
pursue!" she informed Oogami, exiting her steam-powered Koubu and arming
herself with the heirloom sword she had brought with her.
Although Oogami was afraid for Sakura, he was also confident in her
abilities, and so used the remote-viewing system of the Koubu(1), to
observe what he could. (Sakura shouldn't have any troubles defeating a
pair of those things,) thought Oogami.
He wasn't prepared for the flash of light--nor Sakura's scream for
help--and by the time the rest of the Hanagumi reached the area, nothing
remained but her Koubu.
* * * * * * * * * *
(The mountains are lovely in winter,) thought Kenshin, to himself,
(peaceful, and perfect.) His journey was almost halfway done, he
estimated, before he could slip into Tokyo and thereby gather supplies
before continuing on the move once more.
Unfortunately he was not prepared for the next few moments. A flash
of light blinded him, but his training slipped into place and he was armed
with his blade before the stars had faded from his eyes. His senses
sharpened, he stayed perfectly still, letting the vibrations of the world
tell him what was going on. He felt a strike at his head--he parried the
large arm and, as his vision recovered, was momentarily taken aback at
what he saw. A demon, fully ten feet high and black like shadow,
confronted him, while another bent over a slight female figure, already,
he saw, injured, with rents in her kimono and her lifeblood spilling out.
The sight enraged him, and though he had sworn not to use his blade
in anger, he lashed out all the same. His sword skills were far too much
for the demons to counter; he tore into one as if it were a mere practice
dummy, and stopped the other demon with a thrust of his blade through its
misshapen head. To his surprise, both demons, although bleeding with an
unholy purple fluid, faded from existence, along with their blood. The
girl, however, remained, and Kenshin had to do something with her.
Sheathing his sword, he lifted her into his arms, mindful of her wound,
and carried her into a nearby cave.
* * * * * * * * * *
The Hanagumi were shocked; Iris asked quietly where Sakura-oneechan
was, although no one had a reply. It was Oogami who was the hardest
hit--it was he who had ordered Sakura to check the place out. But the
Commander (get his name) finally ordered them back to base, and with heavy
hearts, they went. Kouran promised to look into what happened; Sumire had
her father's company's resources put on the case as soon as they returned
to the base. Iris wore herself out psychically searching for Sakura, but,
before she fell asleep in Maria's arms, exhausted, she murmured, "I can't
find her..."
The play was postponed, while the Hanagumi focused all their
resources into finding Sakura. Oogami didn't sleep well those nights,
plagued by doubts and nightmares.
* * * * * * * * * *
He had patched her wound up as much as possible with what he had
on-hand; the bleeding had stopped and, with some luck, she wouldn't bear
much more than a minor scar from the wound. Yet she still remained
unconscious, though her chest rose and fell with breath. (It's been too
long,) thought Kenshin. (I'm in danger here.) Indeed, it had been a week
since the girl had appeared and though he had kept her alive, his supplies
were dwindling--food, water, and firewood. Soon, he swore, he'd have to
leave her to gather more. The fire lit the cave, a convienient chimney
hole carrying most of the smoke away; the warm, orange glow caressed the
gentle, angelic curves of her face. Kenshin studied her with a growing
reluctance. (She's beautiful.) He forced himself to look away from her,
taking a sip of the tea he had prepared. And so it was that he missed her
waking--her opening of (color?) eyes.
But he didn't miss her voice, as she cleared her throat and asked,
fuzzily, where she was. Her voice was just as angelic as her face, he
noticed, as he turned to look at her.
"You're in the mountains of Japan," he informed her, at his most
polite and precise. He motioned to her kimono, stained still with blood
and torn at the left side. "You were attacked by... things... I was able
to defeat them."
Sakura's head slowly un-fuzzed, and she paled. "Oh, no... you weren't
injured, were you?" she asked, nervously. Kenshin offered a polite, if
distant smile, and shook his head. Then he offered her a bowl of soup and
rice.
"Here, eat... you've been out a long time." Sakura's stomach
grumbled and she blushed as she quickly devoured the simple food, as
hungry as if she had never eaten before in her life.
Kenshin watched with some slight amusement, and silently offered her
a second serving, accepted with gratitude. After she had finished eating,
she looked at Kenshin curiously. "Thank you for saving me," she said, and
then murmured, "I don't know your name. I'm Sakura, Shinguuji Sakura...
it's nice to meet you."
Kenshin offered her a rare, genuine smile, and said, "I'm just a
rurouni. You can call me Kenshin." Taking the bowl from her hands, he
began to clean it up. Sakura sat up to take stock of her surroundings.
"... where's my sword?" she asked. Kenshin, his hands full, motioned
with his chin towards where her blade rested against one wall of the cave.
Sakura got out of the bedroll Kenshin had placed her in, and took her
sword up, sighing with relief--the blade was alright.
Kenshin saw her take up the blade, noting with a critic's eye that
she knew how to handle one. "What were you doing out here?" he asked
Sakura, out of curiosity's sake.
"I... I don't know," she replied, somewhat shaken by the happenings.
"I was in Tokyo, chasing some demons, when there was a flash of light... I
don't remember anything after that until just now."
Kenshin nodded, silently, his compassion locked behind violet eyes
that showed some skepticism. If Sakura saw, she didn't comment on it,
instead hunkering down to look at her savior, noticing only now that even
though he bore a vicious scar on one cheek, he was handsome, almost
pretty. The soft firelight played along his chin, along his hai. Her
voice was quiet, contemplative, as she asked, in turn, "Tell me about you,
Kenshin."
"Well," he began, his voice drifting along like the smoke from the
fire, "... I'm really just a rurouni, a wanderer..."
* * * * * * * * * *
"It's no use," complained Sumire and Kouran, almost in the same
breath, standing at the head of the conference table which all the
Hanagumi had been gathered around. "We've scanned the area with every
instrument we have and we can't find anything." Kouran took over the
briefing.
"I've gone over what happened, again and again, and all I can
conclude is that they used some sort of super-technology to transport
Sakura-han away from the area." Although she looked concerned, Kouran's
eyes also gleamed with hunger as she contemplated getting her hands on the
technology.
Oogami was considerably frustrated, something that showed in the way
he raised his voice, a rarity. "Try harder! We can't lose Sakura!"
Sumire and Kouran were fairly shocked--the team quietly filed out as
Oogami laid his head on his arms, buried in his own misery.
* * * * * * * * * *
"... so really, there's just not that much to tell," concluded
Kenshin, with a bit of a smile.
Sakura nodded slowly. She didn't believe him; there was more to him
than he would tell, if he was able to defeat her enemies so quickly.
After a few minutes she spoke up. "Kenshin-san, may I travel with you?
I've nowhere else to go and I don't think I can make it alone here."
Kenshin nodded in turn, after a few minutes of quiet thought. "I
have to warn you. It won't be easy. I won't slow down for you." The
words were delivered matter-of-factly, no venom or disregard in them.
Sakura grinned a bit. "I wouldn't want you to. I can keep up." She
peeked outside. "We should get some sleep, you'll probably want to move
early tomorrow." Kenshin nodded, and, without a bedroll, curled up by the
dying fire. Sakura was a bit put off--she thought he'd had his own
bedroll. "What about the cold?" she asked.
"Cold? Oh... it's okay. I don't get cold that easily." (Liar.
You've lived a cold life so far.) Frowning at the betraying thought,
Kenshin closed his eyes and was asleep instantly. Sakura shivered and
tucked herself into the bedroll, and soon followed the crimson-haired
kenshi into sleep.
* * * * * * * * * *
Two weeks later...
The two wanderers had found their way onto a road leading into Tokyo.
Both were there for their own reasons; neither truly wished to part with
the other. Kenshin found Sakura quite unlike the women he had known,
strong in spirit and body, and skilled, though not as skilled as he, in
the ways of the sword. Sakura was impressed at Kenshin's politeness and
his swordskill, and the fact that he could cook quite well. They had much
to talk about, including kenjutsu; Kenshin offered to teach Sakura, to
give her some improvements, mainly in form and stance. She readily
agreed.
Unfortunately, that was not to be. A day's passage outside the gates
of Tokyo, Kenshin's pursuers caught up to him and Sakura. In number they
totalled twenty; Kenshin noted that Sakura had not hesitated to draw her
weapon although he knew she had never taken a human life. A single look
passed between them. She knew that she could put down her blade, claim
that Kenshin had kidnapped her and forced her to come this way and that
she would be safe. She also knew that she could never live with herself if
she did.
To Kenshin's surprise it was Sakura who led the charge, yelling a
battlecry as she leaped into the fray, engaging six men armed with staves,
swords, and spears. Kenshin found himself surrounded by eight more, and,
with infinite sadness, he drew his blade, preparing to defend himself.
The battle was glorious, beautiful and deadly. Kenshin had not lost
a step, and Sakura--retreating from the thought that she was actually
killing humans--was a surprise. But there came a moment, when Kenshin's
concern for Sakura became manifest, and his shouted warning of an opponent
in hiding cost him a stab wound through his right arm. Sakura saw him
fell, and, with a wild cry, lost control; all she would remember would be
a white flash of power.
Afterwards, Sakura found a cave to hide within, dragging Kenshin
along, and bandaged his wound, seeing that he was still under. And in his
mind, he was fighting another battle. His physical fever, Sakura abated,
with boiled, cooled water, a fire built from the survival techniques
Kenshin had shown her.
Within his mind, Kenshin fought Shinta; his desire for peace and to
stop the blood from running down his blade, onto his hands, warring with
the Hitokiri, the most powerful assassin of Meiji era. And in the end,
Kenshin won--he won by caging Shinta, by binding him down--not destroying
him, but following the ideas that Sakura had implanted in him, during
their many talks.
It was three days before Kenshin's fever broke, and the young
rurou-ni awoke to find Sakura kneeling above him. With a sob of joy,
Sakura embraced him, and he, weakly, returned it. Sakura's young voice
was muffled by his shoulder. "Kenshin...! I thought you were going to
die... I was so scared... are you alright?"
And Kenshin lifted her head from his shoulder, looked her in the eyes
and nodded, with a sweet, innocent smile. "Hai, Sakura-dono. Because of
you, I am alright." And he leaned upwards, to give her a token of thanks,
a kiss on the cheek. Except that Sakura shifted, and instead, her lips
met his. The contact was brief--and electrifying. Kenshin found that he
could not willingly disengage his lips from hers. Sakura found that she
didn't want to. She pressed him down, leaning over him, continuing the
kiss, exploring the way the thrill of it played along her spine.
It took Kenshin's hands, burning hot where they touched Sakura's
shoulders, even through her clothing, to break them apart. And, without
word, they began again, mouths fusing together, lips parting slowly,
sweetly, for the other to probe, to taste. To experience this electric
power, vibrating deep within the other.
A good thing, then, that the fire was banked, and that the winds were
still, although the two generated more than enough heat for themselves.
Sometime during their next kiss, Kenshin and Sakura were seated next to
each other, sitting up, and Sakura's arms had found their way around his
neck. Kenshin's hands rested in his lap, then began to creep upwards,
leaving imaginary trails of fire on Sakura's skin. He gripped her
shoulders, as before, then his fingers slipped into the folds of her
kimono. The heat of his touch on her skin drew a ragged gasp from the
dark-haired beauty, the chill of winter barely noted as he began to pull
her kimono open. Her hands had long since begun exploring his muscular
chest, drawing soft, muted sounds from his throat.
In that manner, they undressed each other; Kenshin marveled at
Sakura's perfection, his eyes and then his hands, his mouth, worshipping
at her body, placing soft kisses, tiny bites, from her ear, downwards,
along her neck... between her breasts, his tongue flickered, drawing a
giggle from Sakura, 'til his hands claimed her bosom, her nipples
stiffening to rock-hard achiness in moments, becoming so sensitive that
the slightest touch fed the growing, wet heat between her legs. She
shifted and squirmed, unused to such feelings, scissoring her legs to try
and do something about it.
Kenshin knew. He was not without experience. Finishing the parting
of her kimono, he drew it away from her, laying it out upon her bedroll.
Next, he laid her down upon it, though he was only half-clothed, and began
stroking her body anew, finding each curve, again, memorizing them with
his fingertips. Sakura writhed, and moaned, helplessly, her legs parting
and closing. With infinite care, Kenshin ran a hand along one of her
upper thighs, and cupped her sex, marvelling at the moistness and the
burning heat.
Sakura thought she would die, ascending to heaven, at that moment--
then his fingers began to move and she knew. She moved with him,
helplessly, her body no longer responding accurately, his name sighed from
her lips as he found her secret, circling it with his thumb as he gently
probed her nether lips with a finger. And that was enough for her, as
inexperienced as she was; she arched, golden explosions bursting behind
her eyes as she cried his name, a perfect moment of pleasure rippling
through her body. And as it died down, still rippling, she found to her
surprise that her need had not been yet abated. She reached for him;
breathed his name with an inflection as ancient as man and woman.
And he responded. Kenshin shed the last of his clothing, his body
gloriously bronzed by firelight, his manhood perfection, as far as Sakura
knew; she caressed it briefly, amazed at a heat which matched her own.
Again she reached for him, and he responded, coming to her. She knew
glory, as he began to fill her... then a brief moment of pain, swift and
shattering, that moved her to cry out, as she felt his heat rest fully
within her.
Kenshin kissed the tears from her eyes, then, after a moment, began
to move in the rhythm of lovemaking. Sakura found herself responding. She
wrapped her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist, and moved
with him, startling him. He began to move even faster, the panting and
the soft cries of the woman beneath him spurring him on. He wanted to
know what it would be like to give and receive the ultimate pleasure with
her-- needed to know with a deep, primal urge.
As the second golden starburst lit up her closed eyes, Sakura shouted
his name, and was met by his shout, in that same instant, as both found
their climaxes--Sakura feeling the wet heat that he filled her with, his
hips moving reflexively until at last they had both been sated, Kenshin
slumping down to one side, Sakura turning to face him.
* * * * * * * * * *
Kenshin woke alone--almost all traces of Sakura gone. Although he
wept, he also knew that Sakura would want him to move on. And so he
would. He had a special request to make of a friend, in Tokyo, and then
he would take up his wandering ways again, using his skills to protect,
rather than kill. The one thing left behind by Sakura was the black tie
that she had used to bind his hair into the rough ponytail he now wore.
It would be enough.
* * * * * * * * * *
Sakura awoke--surprised--in her own bed, surrounded by her friends,
the Hanagumi--and the man she had grown to love, Oogami Ichiro. It was
amazing, they said, crowding around her--she disappeared, then reappeared
weeks later, in her own bed. She thought to herself that, perhaps, she
had dreamed her weeks with Kenshin, but a scrap of his uniquely magenta
hakama had been left in her hand... and she knew it was true. After she
had been checked by the doctor and everyone had left, she clutched the
scrap and thought to herself, < Kenshin-san... although I love Oogami-kun,
I will always remember and treasure you... arigato. >
Finis
Author's Note (again): Alright, alright, so it's a weak ending. I know.
I hate ending stories. And besides, the -ending- isn't what this story is
about. :) Please, feel free to send criticisms (no outright flames, please;
again, I know this story is way OOC and not at all likely and I don't care)
but unless there's some overwhelming demand, I'll probably leave this story
the way it is, because I'm not much of an editor. Thanks for reading and
I hope you enjoyed. Oh yeah.
(1) I don't know if the koubu have a remote-viewing system and I don't
care. I also don't know anything about the actual manner of enemy found in
the Sakura Taisen series, because I haven't played the games or seen
enough of the OAV series. Again, since they aren't the focus, it just
doesn't matter. :)
yakumo (at) thekeep (dot) org
-- From the desk of: yakumo@thekeep.org
"Hey, you asked for heroes. You didn't specify anything
about sanity." -- Chameleon Boy, Batman & Superman