Disclaimer: This is a work of fan fiction. Trigun characters © Yasuhiro Nightow. "Sailor Moon" characters are © Naoko Takeuchi. Please e-mail any comments to rubious@oeonline.com
The heat from the double suns scorched October. Mamoru Chiba held his hand up to shade his eyes from the glaring sunlight. The sign on the building said "BAR" hung loosely, looking like it was ready to fall from its precarious perch. He hurried over to the saloon, craving some refreshment to quench his thirst and some much needed relief from the searing heat.
He certainly wasn't in the Juuban district of Tokyo. The town he found himself in resembled something out of the American Old West. Mamoru had seen many westerns, but he never imagined he would experience being there. Maybe during his vacations away from graduate school in America, he would travel to California.
Striding through the saloon's swinging double doors, his eyes adjusted quickly to the darkened room. At one table, a man dressed in black sat and watched the stranger walk towards the bar. He stubbed out his cigarette and placed it in a growing pile of butts. A wooden cross wrapped in white cloth leaned against the table. The man's focus shifted back to the poker game. "Give me two," he said. He knew the course of the game rested on the turn of a friendly card.
"Two for the padre," the dealer said.
Mamoru felt as if everyone's eyes were drilling holes in his back. He felt very uneasy. He reached the bar and settled down on a stool. He wanted something that would slake his thirst and settle his stomach. "I'll have some sassafras tea."
"Don't have that," replied the bartender, a blonde man in a blue shirt and white apron. "All we have is this." He poured an amber liquid into a shot glass and offered it to Mamoru.
Mamoru was confused about the bartender. What was Motoki doing here? Was he working a second job besides the Crown Arcade to pay for his tuition? "Arigato." He accepted the drink grudgingly and drained the shot quickly. The alcohol burned his throat as it went down. A few minutes later, he bent over and vomited on the floor.
The bartender looked at him disdainfully. "Another weakling can't handle the rotgut," he said, departing to get a mop and bucket to clean up the mess.
Mamoru felt embarrassed. He could always hold his liquor before at the college parties. He did remember the time Usagi got drunk on the punch at that professor's reception. He couldn't recall tasting anything so vile as the "rotgut" as the bartender called it. Reaching into his jacket pocket for a handkerchief, he found it wasn't there. He stared into the mirror behind the bar and was shocked at what he saw.
A red leather knee-length duster had replaced his green sports jacket. His feet were encased in knee-high boots with many criss-crossing buckles. His attention shifted to the commotion by the bar's entrance.
"We heard he's in town. We're looking for Vash the Stampede," said a stocky man, holding a shotgun.
"Vash the Stampede!" exclaimed one bystander.
"The Humanoid Typhoon! Let's get out of here!" said another. In their haste to flee, several tables and chairs were upended as the bar's occupants scrambled for safety from the impending confrontation. Soon the only people in the saloon were Mamoru and the newcomers.
"Yeah, it's him, Vash the Stampede. We're going to collect the 60 billion double-dollar bounty," one of the bounty hunters said, showing the "Wanted" poster to his comrades. He was a rugged-looking man with a few days of stubble on his face.
"Nani?" Mamoru asked. "You must have me confused with somebody else. My name is Mamoru Chiba from Tokyo. I don't know how I got here, but I'm definitely not this Vash person you're looking for."
"He's just sayin' that to fool us," said another bounty hunter. This one had squinty eyes and a drooping mustache.
"'Sides he wearin' that red coat. So it must be him!" the first hunter said.
"Huh?" Mamoru muttered. "This isn't mine," he babbled, trying to make sense of the rapidly worsening situation. He was perspiring profusely. His shirt was damp with sweat. Discretion was the better part of valor at this moment, so he decided to hightail it out of the saloon.
The bounty hunters opened fire at Mamoru's first movement. Bullet after bullet, volley after volley was fired at the elusive target. Glasses shattered, wooden tables splintered amid the voluminous torrent of gunfire. The furious barrage obliterated any furnishing he sought shelter behind. Amazingly, Mamoru dodged every salvo that was fired at him. His agility was exceptional, honed on his many experiences as Tuxedo Kamen assisting the Sailor Senshi.
Soon, the only sound that was heard was a clicking of the empty chambers of the bounty hunters' weapons. They had expended all of their ammunition in attempting to capture their prey. They had come up empty, save for destroying a saloon. "Aw, man. The Boss is gonna be mad," the stocky bounty hunter said.
"Yeah, I don't want to be the one that tells him we screwed up," Squinty Eyes said. They conferred among themselves on how to tell their employer of the day's events, failing to notice Mamoru crawling out of the saloon.
Mamoru breathed a welcome sigh of relief. Checking to make sure nothing had been shot off in the gunfight, he viewed his surroundings. He stood in a shaded alley behind a general store in October. The alley was cluttered with empty boxes and debris. "Who the hell is Vash the Stampede anyway?" he muttered, collapsing against the side of the store, exhausted. He soon drifted off to sleep.
The heat awakened him. The shifting suns caused the shade to dissipate. Mamoru knew October was a dangerous place to be. Mamoru felt through his pockets for his roses and was alarmed when he found none. He went to the edge of the store and glanced up and down the street. Thank goodness! He saw a florist's sign across the way. He decided to stock up on his weapon of choice.
Chiba trotted across the street. The florist shop's name, "The Kitty's Closet" was painted on the front window of the store. Various flowers, including daisies, lilies, and mums, were displayed in decorative vases throughout the interior of the shop. A cheerful green-eyed redhead was arranging a bouquet on the counter by the cash register. "May I help you?" asked the woman in a yellow apron, momentarily stopping her task to greet the customer.
"Yes," Mamoru replied. He paused, seeing that her nametag read "Sandy". "Sandy, I need several dozen red roses."
"She must be a lucky lady," Sandy commented.
"Oh, these are for business."
Sandy nodded and placed the roses in three gift boxes. Mamoru paid for his flowers and departed. He walked past a group of teenage schoolgirls who were whispering among themselves. Sandy called out to them, "Girls, the guys aren't here today. They're out making a delivery to Weiss."
The two women finished their interview with the owner of the saloon. Meryl Strife and Milly Thompson were investigators for the Bernardelli Insurance Society. They had been dispatched to investigate a recent surge of claims filed because of damage wrought by Vash the Stampede. Meryl was short in stature; she had black hair and violet eyes, and was very determined. Milly was the taller of the duo. She had a pleasant personality, chestnut-colored hair, and blue eyes. She was the follower to Meryl's leader.
"Sempai, who is that man calling us by these strange names?" Milly whispered to her co-worker, nudging her in the side.
"I don't know, Milly. Let's go see what he wants," Meryl replied.
Mamoru was elated to see the two women approach. "Mako-chan? Ami-chan?" he called out to the pair. The dark-haired woman certainly bore a resemblance to Ami Mizuno. Today she was dressed in a white outfit with a white cloak. Accompanying her was a taller woman who certainly could be mistaken for Makoto Kino, except she wore her hair down instead of in a ponytail.
"Ami-chan. Mako-chan," he said.
The pair stopped before Mamoru. "I'm Meryl Strife and this is Milly Thompson," Meryl said. "We're investigators from the Bernardelli Insurance Agency. Who are you?"
Mamoru put his arm behind his head and laughed. "I'm Mamoru Chiba. I'm sorry. You reminded me of some friends who I haven't seen in a long time. Sorry for bothering you. I'll be going now." He began to rise from the bench.
"Wait. Maybe you can help us out with our investigation. We're looking for Vash the Stampede."
Mamoru paled briefly upon hearing the mention of the name. "Why me?"
"We're investigating recent damage claims that have been filed after people have been in contact with him. If we find him, we can prevent any future claims against the company. We could use some help."
"Hmm. This Vash guy sounds pretty dangerous," Mamoru commented."
"He must be, judging by the reports. But we only have a vague description of him," Milly responded.
"I'll be glad to help. Do you have anything to eat? I'm famished."
"Here," Milly replied, opening a box of donuts.
Mamoru quickly gobbled down a donut. "Ah. Glazed. My favorite," he said, wiping the sugar from his lips.
Billowing dust clouds obscured their arrival. The roaring engines sounded ominous to those in October, which left the town's residents quaking in fear. Shopkeepers quickly shut their doors and put "Closed" signs in the windows. Mothers brought children indoors for protection. As the crescendo increased, only Mamoru and the two investigators remained outside. "Where'd everyone go?" Mamoru asked.
"They must be afraid of something," Milly Thompson offered.
"Probably them," said Meryl Strife, pointing to the group that had parked their vehicles in the middle of October's main street, stopping almost in front of her.
"Oh my!" Mamoru gasped at the sight of the man disembarking from the lead vehicle, which was dark green in color and had minor dents on its side doors.
"We're here to collect the bounty on Vash the Stampede. He eluded us before, but not this time," announced the giant. Brilliant Dynamites Neon was the leader of the Bad Lads, a ruthless gang of outlaws whose reputation was known way beyond the wasteland to the sky. B.D.N. was well over seven feet in height, towering over everyone in the Bad Lads. His piercing eyes and jutting chin dominated his face. A large Stetson covered a thick head of brown hair. (It must be a 20-gallon hat Mamoru thought). B.D.N. had a very muscular build. A gray vest with neon décor covered his bare chest. He wore black pants and black boots, also with neon trim. But eyes were drawn to the dynamos that rested on his broad shoulders like epaulets. The metal containers glowed like neon lanterns. The dynamos were the main power source for Neon's armaments.
Mamoru sensed a confrontation was inevitable. Neon s glare felt like cold daggers as Mamoru decided on a course of action. He had replenished his supply of roses and he had his cane. It was time. He hurried over to Kitty's Closet, emptied a flowerpot of pink geraniums, dumping the flowers and dirt into the street, and raced to the hotel next door. He leaped onto the second floor balcony's railing. He placed the black flowerpot on his head and put on his wraparound sunglasses. The red duster fluttered behind him. He stared down at his adversary and began his speech.
"You have sullied a stranger in this town with a case of mistaken identity. Vash the Stampede must not suffer the injustices of being pursued by bounty hunters. I am Tuxedo Kamen. In the name of the moon, I'll punish you." What am I saying? Mamoru thought. That's Usagi's shtick.
The padre stared at the figure standing on the balcony. He tried to restrain himself from laughing, but failed. "Are you serious? You couldn't even scare Scooby-doo," he guffawed.
"Doesn't he look ridiculous up there?" Meryl said to Milly. Her partner agreed.
Brilliant Dynamites Neon had had enough of the pontificating. "Eat lead, funny boy." He glowered at the sound of air escaping from his vehicle's tire. A rose that Tuxedo Kamen had just thrown had punctured the tire. B.D.N. nodded to the Bad Lads, who opened fire with every weapon they possessed. Tuxedo Kamen extended his cane to its full length. Twirling it rapidly, he deflected every bullet that would have struck him.
One of the bullets ricocheted and shattered the jar of pudding Milly was eating. The butterscotch pudding splattered over the front of her brown blouse. Milly grew irate.
She reached for her huge weapon and fired the stun gun. Two Bad Lads were struck down. "Nothing comes between a person and her pudding," she announced.
The gunfire momentarily ceased. "Who are you?" Neon asked.
"I'm Stun gun Milly," the tall investigator replied.
"And I'm Derringer Meryl," added her partner, whipping out a pistol from under her white cloak.
"You gals got spunk. I hate spunk," said Neon, stepping forward. He swatted the two women aside like flies. They lay sprawled on the ground.
"A sinner must confess his sins," said a voice. The man clad in black stomped out his cigarette under his boot. He moved towards Brilliant Dynamites Neon carrying a miniature church, his cloth-covered cross slung on his back. "Deposit a coin and step into the portable confessional. The money goes to the orphans," said the priest.
The outlaw arched an eyebrow. "This is none of your business or God's business." He fired a shot that knocked the confessional out of the priest's hands. "Lads, get rid of the problem," Neon ordered.
During the pause, the priest had dragged the insurance investigators to an alley where they would be safe. He returned to the wooden cross, unwrapped its cloth bindings, and opened it to reveal an arsenal of firearms that would have made Frank Castle jealous. One arm of the cross was lined with a row of pistols. He squeezed off shot after shot at the Bad Lads.
Up on the balcony Tuxedo Kamen saw the priest go into action. Tuxedo Kamen unleashed a volley of roses at the Bad Lads. Several of the roses hit their targets, causing the criminals to drop their weapons. One rose whistled past B.D.N. on its path. His eyes followed the flight path back to its launch point. He saw Tuxedo Kamen standing on the balcony railing, defiant.
Tuxedo Kamen jumped off the railing and ran over to tend to the insurance girls. "Meryl? Milly? Are you hurt?" The man of the cloth had turned the cross on one end, exposing a rapid-fire machine gun. He laid down a blistering crossfire that prevented the Bad Lads from shooting at Tuxedo Kamen.
Brilliant Dynamites Neon now had to contend with two adversaries. It was proving more difficult to capture the bounty on Vash the Stampede. He decided to withdraw and devise another plan. Maybe that sand steamer would come into play. He now had a newfound respect for the outlaw. "A name worth dying for is a name that should be respected," he said He ordered the Bad Lads to cease firing and withdraw. The gang climbed into their vehicles, departing October in a cloud of dust.
Tuxedo Kamen removed the flowerpot from his head and shook off any dirt that remained in his hair. He greeted the man who had saved him. "Thanks for intervening. Nice cover."
"Nice support," replied the man. He wore a black sports jacket, a white shirt open at the collar, black pants and boots. His dark hair was tousled and his eyes seemed tired. He extended his hand. "Wolfwood. At your service."
"Glad to meet you, Wolfwood. I'm Mamoru Chiba and I have a bus to catch," Mamoru said, noticing a bus arriving in October.
"You're not the man I envisioned, Vash the Stampede," Wolfwood said.
"I'm NOT Vash the Stampede," Mamoru screamed. He boarded the bus and sank into a seat. He waved farewell to Wolfwood, Milly, and Meryl as the bus pulled out of October.
"Where are you going?" asked the driver.
"Home," replied a tired Mamoru.
"All aboard the Tokyo Express," said the driver winking. The driver removed her cap, revealing herself as Haruka. She winked. "Welcome back, Mamoru-san.",/P>
AUTHOR'S NOTES
1.This is my first anime-oriented fanfic. Being a long-time fan of Sailor Moon and now a big fan of Trigun, I wanted to do a story intermingling the two. I toyed with the idea of Mamoru the Stampede and developed it from there.
2.I'd like to thank Enigma for encouragement in developing my writing.
3.Stories are archived at http://geocities.datacellar.net/mzsapa