A shadow-covered hand can be seen snapping it’s fingers to the beat of Morning Musume’s “Otome no Shinrigaku (A Girls’ Psychology)”. After four snaps, the hand disappears and is replace by the lower portion of a young girl’s face. The lips of her mouth curve into a smile as she says, “I love rock ‘n roll” in tune with the song. Then they too vanish into the shadows as the beat of the music changes and becomes faster. Suddenly, seven slashes of light cut irregular lines into the shadows one after the other. The darkness falls away with a quick drum roll like paper to reveal a barefoot young girl dressed in a brightly colored yukata with the left flap of it raised and tucked into her obi sash to bear her left leg up to the thigh and the right-hand side of it pulled off her shoulder to hang at her waist. At her side is a scabbarded katana. Standing there for a second or two, she looks up at the camera and smiles. She then starts to dance to the music, twisting her body this way and that. This keeps up until the scene hits a transition point with another quick drum roll. The image of the teenage girl quickly fades out and is replaced by a little girl around the age of ten in a knee-length kimono who is already dancing to the music when she appears. She flashes a two-fingered peace sign as the music drum rolls signal another scene transition. An older woman wearing a short mid-thigh kimono replaces the little girl; a loose-fitting scarf around her neck, shin and forearm guards, waraji sandals and a wakizashi strapped to her back. She’s in the process of doing some old school break-dancing and then switches to an almost Egyptian robot dance before the drum roll comes and the scene changes. A man replaces her image in his late forties sitting on the ground with a sake saucer held firmly in his hands. When the camera centers on him, he just stares up at it with firm, piercing eyes and goes back to what he was doing; the bright red kanji for the words ‘He Can’t Dance!’ flashing above his head as the drum roll hits again along with a ‘YEAH!’ and the scene switches back to the first teenaged girl. She is still dancing, doing a number of current dance moves with a huge smile on her face – seemingly unaware of all the shadows popping up all around her in tune with the music’s low drum roll. Soon she is surrounded by these shadows, but the girl continues to dance. When the song hits another drum roll, the shadows around her can be seen drawing silvery-blade swords from their hidden sheathes. Right then, the camera closes in on the girl’s eye as a glint of light flashes through it and the tempo and beat of the song speeds up. The shadows rush the girl as she draws her katana and begins slicing through each of the figures that approach her, all in tune with the music. After killing the first few, the girl pauses long enough to shake her behind (with a camera close up of the act) when the songs says ‘Shake Up, Shake Hip’, then returns to carving up the remaining shadows as the song winds down to it’s conclusion. When she finishes, the girl is standing in the middle of the dead bodies surrounding her; back turned to the camera with one hand on her katana and the other on her sheathe. As the song nears its end, she resheathes her katana by twirling it three times and then sliding it into the scabbard samurai style. As the music finishes, she just stands there without moving, facing away from the camera. When the very last drum roll for the song hits, the girl turns her head to look toward the camera with a huge, goofy grin plastered across her face and then raises her empty hand to flash a two-fingered peace sign. She then closes her eyes and slightly cocks her head to the right in a look of total innocence as the song comes to an end and the screen goes black. Her image is replaced by the bright white kanji for “slash/DANCE fUtUrE” and then it too disappears.

This anime opening was done to the way cool tune of Morning Musume’s “Otome no Shinrigaku” (A Girl’s Psychology) from their (CHURCH BELL RINGING) awesome Second Morning CD!

slash/DANCE fUtUrE

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“to

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“Oh come on,” Fik complained loudly to the rather large man behind the counter. “That’s worth twice the amount you’re givin’ me for it! Have a little heart, will ya? I haven’t eaten in two whole weeks!”

The stocky, heavy-built man regarded the dark-haired girl with cool eyes.

“It’s got bloodstains on it, kid.”

Fik flashed the pawnshop owner a dark look.

“So?”

The wide man behind the counter grunted sourly as he pushed the blood-splattered sake bottle back toward Fik. She quickly shoved it back toward him, an icy but mischievous look etched across her young face.

“So? So?!” he sputtered out in annoyance. “Kid, do you have any idea how hard it is to sell (MONKEYS CHATTER) that has bloodstains on it? Especially this close to a Shinto Shrine? You know that those Priests have ties to the Traditionalist Government! And the last thing that I need is some government dog of a Sa Moo-rai sent by those stuffed shirts in Sapporo to come sniffing around at my doorstep!”

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a quick history lesson with v/o by a reasonable james earl jones impersonator and beautifully drawn pictures done in an 18th century Japanese style…and if there’s one thing that we’re about here, it’s S-T-Y-L-E!!!

In the times after the Separatist Movement had achieved it’s goals of secession from the Mainland, an increase of violence suddenly gripped Hokkaido. Unable to control the escalating hostility and unwilling to ask the Mainland for aid, the newly established Traditionalist Government sanctioned the creation of a bureaucratic police force fashioned after the honorable samurai of old. However, not wanting their new agents of peace and order to be associated fully with the samurai and the codes of Bushido (which many felt were still figureheads of the Mainland’s history rich past), and thus entailing the possible fall into corruption that befell those honored warriors at the height of their power, they altered the names by which they would be known as well as pushing upon them a completely new form of martial arts and sword training. This technique, taught only to the Traditionalist Government’s united police force would come to be called Odori Kiritsukeru no Gijitsu, which roughly translated meant ‘art of the dancing slash’ in English. It would later earn a more derogatory name as the exploits and actions of these new ‘government dogs’ became more and more infamous. And that term would be ‘slash-dancing’.

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“Dammit girl, you know how they’ve been since the end of the Oji-Aoitanbo War! They (GLASS SHATTERING) jump at any chance that they have to stick their noses in our business! Anything that’ll give them the chance to flash those pretty little k’tanas of theirs. Personally, I could do without their interference into my affairs. So, I think that my price is more than fair for all the trouble that the blood on that sake bottle will bring me down the road. Take it, leave it or get the hell out! Either way, it doesn’t matter to me.”

Fik’s face literally took on the mischievous expression of cat as she casually leaned on the counter with a lone elbow. Her brown eyes narrowed impishly as those lips widened into a sly, oily grin.

“So old-timer,” she began with all the tact of a drunken sailor. “You’re scared of few measly, government-owned Sa Moo-rai, huh? You know, for the right price, I could…ahem…take care of ‘em for you. No fuss, no muss. Hell, I’ll even dispose of the bodies for no extra fee. What do you say?”

Each word from Fik’s slender mouth had made the pawnshop owner’s eyes widen fearfully. Her greasy grin only broadened. Lifting her arm up from her side, she slowly raised the sheathed sword with the curved blade up before her and casually waved it about in the heavy-set man’s face.

“C’mon pops,” she said chidingly, flashing him a quick wink and still waving the black-scabbarded sword around like it wasn’t anything to be worried about. “You ain’t got nothing to worry about! A couple of government-owned dogs from Sapporo can’t match up to me. I got too much style for ‘em! ‘Sides, there ain’t been any Sa Moo-rai down this way in, what, ‘bout a year or something? It ain’t like their gonna walk through the door or – ”

“You,” a stern voice called out, interrupting her words. “The fool waving around that blade. By Order of the Traditionalist Government of Nihon, I command you to lower your weapon and step outside.”

Fik’s lips pursed into a half-smile as she pulled the sheathed sword back toward her and then lowered it again to her side. Across the wooden counter, the owner of the pawnshop shot her a dirty look.

“See what you’ve gone and done, you dirty little vagrant!”

Fik stared back at him with electricity crackling in her eyes.

“What I’ve done?!”

“Yeah,” he shouted back as sparks began pop in his own eyes.

Within seconds, two thin tendrils of lightning leapt from both of their eyes and met between them with a loud crackling sound. They both balled their fists and gritted their teeth at each other as the electricity between them sparked brightly were it connected and struck one another. The violent staredown between them would have undoubtedly continued if the white-clad figure standing in the doorway of the pawnshop hadn’t called out to Fik again.

“Did you not hear what I said,” the tall man questioned as he lowered a hand to his side and slowly drew back the bulky white overcoat he was wearing to reveal the intricately designed hilt and scabbard of his similarly colored weapon. His gloved hand casually teased the sheathed blade’s handle as he raised his voice to Fik. “You, the child wearing the gi, lower your weapon, stop acting the fool with that man and step outside this instant! Do not force me to discipline you here and now! This is your last warning, child!”

Almost immediately, Fik’s face darkened as her eyes narrowed into barely visible slits and a large, pulsating cross-shaped vein appeared dangerously on the side of her forehead. Pulling her eyes away from the rotund man behind the counter quickly, she refocused all of her attention on the man dressed in white that was standing immobile and menacingly in the doorway. Raising a clenched fist, that was shaking with an endless amount of newfound anger, up toward her face, Fik growled at the man as the Flames of Hell literally sprung up around her.

“What…did…you…call…me…?”

The man backed away slightly, an awkward, but uncertain grin playing across his thin lips as he tightened his grip on the k’tana at his side.

“I called you a child,” he stated with an arrogant sniff. “A mere little girl playing at being something she obviously has no busi…neeuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh…!?”

So busy with his insults, the white-clad Sa Moo-rai had never noticed Fik rushing forward and drawing back her leg. The force of it coming up into his crotch was so great that it left wisps and contrails of dust in it’s wake. His snowy white overcoat was blown outward by the strength of the impact. Before too long, the crook of her bare foot and ankle were shoved, very high and quite casually, between the snobby Sa Moo-rai’s legs. A satisfied and smug grin curved Fik’s lips despite the anger still evident on her face as she watched the man’s eyes roll up into the back of his head. His mouth hung open limply, frozen in that very clipped half-shout he’d managed before her foot had shut him up completely. Her shoulders heaved up and down, narrowed and dark eyes still staring at the white-clad Sa Moo-rai in outright fury as he crumpled to the ground without another word; face flat against the dirty floorboards and rear end perched high in the air above the rest of his body.

“NOBODY,” Fik began with a loud growl as she finally lowered her leg and started to stomp her foot into the fallen man’s back viciously. “CALLS ME A CHILD!!! DO YOU GOT THAT, YOU STUPID GOVERNMENT DOG??!! HUH? HUH?! DO YOU GOT THAT??!! DON’T YOU EVER CALL ME A CHILD AGAIN YOU (EXPLOSION)…(WAILING POLICE SIRENS)…(TOLLING CHURCH BELL)…MORON!!!” She continued to stomp her foot into the man’s back relentlessly, emphasizing each word that she was screaming. Suddenly, a brief spark of realization flashed next to her temple and the corner of her eye. She then raised the arm not holding her sheathed k’tana and pointed a stiff finger in the direction of the counter she had been at only moments earlier. “And where to do you think YOU’RE goin’?!”

Behind the wooden counter, the rotund man she’d been arguing with – who had been trying to tip-toe quietly out the backdoor while Fik was abusing the Sa Moo-rai – stopped dead in his tracks and cringed; a large sweatdrop appearing on the left side of his balding head. Slowly, he turned around to face the young girl who was still stomping on the back of the fallen Sa Moo-rai.

“Uh,” he replied nervously, raising a chubby hand to his head to scratch it as his eyes shrunk down to two little black dots. “I gotta pee?”

Fik’s eyes widened sheepishly as she stopped shoving her foot into the white-clad man’s back and turned to face the man standing halfway between the counter and the backdoor that led into a small alleyway.

“I thought you told me that the toilets were in the front when I first came here,” she rebuked suspiciously, bare foot still buried in the nearly unconscious man’s back.

The pawnshop owner began to wring his hands together fearfully as three glowing blue hitodama suddenly appeared around his profusely sweating head.

“W-Well,” he stuttered, wiping the back of his hand quickly across his sweaty forehead. “Th-They are…that is t-to say that the…the toilets f-for the c-customers are…and…and…” Suddenly the chubby man threw up a trembling finger and pointed at something behind Fik. “LOOK OUT!!! THERE’S ANOTHER SA MOO-RAI BEHIND YOU!!!!”

Instinctively, Fik’s empty hand immediately dropped to the hilt of her k’tana as she whirled around toward the doorway to the pawnshop expectantly; preparing to use the fallen Sa Moo-rai’s back as a platform from which to launch herself. Beneath her feet, a half-muffled groan of pain managed to escape from the Sa Moo-rai’s mouth as she completed her turn. But Fik ignored him as she drew her k’tana, raised it and found…absolutely nothing in front of her. Suddenly, the sound of quickly shuffling feet and a door opening and slamming shut touched her ears annoyingly. Cursing to herself, Fik spun around hurriedly on the white-clad man’s back, bringing forth another muffled groan from his half-buried mouth.

Facing the place where the pawnshop owner had been, all Fik found was a barely visible trail of dust that ended at the closed back door. Resheathing her blade, Fik shrugged her thin shoulders more in irritation than outright anger.

“Huh,” she mumbled, plopping herself down on the Sa Moo-rai’s back heavily. The muted cry that came from him sounded startled at the additional weight falling upon his already bruised spine. But Fik only ignored him again as she stared at the back door with a crooked smile. “A fat pawnshop owner that can actually run fast? Never saw that one comin’.”

Turning her head toward the counter, she noticed that her stuff was still there. All the junk that she had liberated from those drunken idiots she’d killed the other day. Well, all but one. Great, she thought to herself, leaning back casually on the moaning Sa Moo-rai. What am I gonna do now? There’s no place in this sorry little (WORDS SPOKEN IN REVERSE) where I can pawn this junk off. Man, I’m SOOOO hungry! How the hell am I gonna get enough shin-kane to eat? Pausing in her thoughts long enough to poke the white-clad man in the back of the head, Fik’s face took on a vacant expression. And what am I gonna do about him? Stupid (GUNSHOT) Sa Moo-rai! It’s all his fault! Flames appearing in the place of her eyes, Fik’s forehead darkened as numerous little cross-shaped veins popped up all over it. Raising her now-balled fist with no hesitation, she hauled off and walloped the Sa Moo-rai in the back of the head. A surprised, strangled gurgle of incredible pain escaped his still-buried mouth as a large, red-hued lump suddenly rose from the spot she had struck him in. Folding her arms back across her small breasts angrily, Fik scowled darkly at the counter. Man, this really (K’TANA BLADE BEING DRAWN) sucks!!! No shin-kane! No food! I totally freakin’ reek! And now, I got a stupid Sapporo dog to deal with! Jeez! Can things get any worse?!

“The hell,” a loud voice exclaimed from behind. “What do you think you are doing to our leader?! Get off of him, you little brat! Didn’t you hear me, you stupid child?! Get off of him!!!”

Without saying anything, Fik rose up quickly from the flattened Sa Moo-rai and stood erect. For a moment, she didn’t move. Behind her, the three other white-clad men shuffled about uneasily. Abruptly, she turned around to face them; eyes slanted and shaped like half moons lying on their sides with tiny pupils hovering near the bottoms along with a toothy grin that spoke of nothing but bad intentions. The forehead’s of the Sa Moo-rai standing in the doorway became littered with numerous mini-sweatdrops as their hands dropped down in unison to their white-handled k’tanas.

“WHAT…DID YOU…JUST…(SCREECHING CAT)…CALL ME…?!”

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yet another history lesson! by now, you should know the (CLASHING SWORDS) drill! so just sit there and deal with it! besides, it’s good for ya! and stylish to boot! did we mention that it’s GOOD for ya?!

Believing all to be ready, the Traditionalist Government from their place of power within the Hokkaido capital of Sapporo dispatched their new force of peace and order upon the mass of diseased violence within the land. Clad in the purity of white and given weapons that were supposed to match the disposition they represented, the newly instated fist of the Traditionalist Government of Nihon began their crusade to retake the Land from the madness and carnage that gripped it. Thus was born the Sa Moo-rai into the changed world and bureaucratic landscape of the late 22nd century. However, the emergence of the Sa Moo-rai into the violent conflicts that had begun to spring up all over the small, new nation did not have the effect that the Traditionalist Government had foreseen. It instead inspired an entirely new wave of chaotic hostility across the face of the land. Those who were behind the violent uprisings – many of them having fought for their freedom and independence from the Mainland – saw the emergence and arrival of the Sa Moo-rai to be a blatant return to the stagnant rigidity of eras past in which the samurai ruled. For they all feared that the power which had been granted to these new Sa Moo-rai would eventually corrupt them. A corruption that could lead to a harsh suffering somewhere down the road for all those living in small communities across the countryside. And it was something that the common people of Nihon just weren’t about to accept willingly.

Unfortunately for those in power, the actions that they believed would quickly quell the rising tides of bloodshed were only adding to the problem.

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“Y-you heard me,” the lead Sa Moo-rai stuttered awkwardly as he adjusted his hold on the just unsheathed k’tana. Behind him, the other two men clad in white nodded their heads in agreement, hands still poised on the hilts of their own blades. They both looked about as sure as the man before them.

In contrast, Fik stood there staring at them; eyes pupiless and slanted with numerous cross-shaped veins throbbing across her shadowed forehead. Around her small frame, the Flames of Hell rose higher and higher.

“Oh yeah,” she mouthed menacingly through clenched teeth, gripping the handle of her k’tana in preparation to draw it. “TIME FOR THE BIG HURT!!! NOBODY (SCHOOL BELL) CALLS ME A CHILD!!! ‘SPECIALLY NOT SOME SPINELESS SAPPORO DOG OF A SA MOO-RAI!!!”

Pulling the blade free of its sheathe, Fik’s lips curled into an evil, cruel smile as she leapt over the fallen Sa Moo-rai and rushed for the three standing before her. Their leader reacted quickly enough, raising his white-handled k’tana before him in a defensive stance as the other two fell back through the doorway rigidly and drew their own blades after clearing the building. But Fik ignored them as she brought her k’tana across in a vertical slashing arc toward the man in front of her; dark eyes alight with a furious excitement. Seeing the expression on her face, the white-clad man backpedaled slightly and then hefted his k’tana into a horizontal position to counter her strike. Fik’s blade struck loud and hard against the Sa Moo-rai’s, the metal-on-metal sound ringing throughout the pawnshop’s empty space. Locking eyes with the man in front her; she dropped the serious look on her face momentarily, casually winking at him before pursing her lips and blowing him an invisible kiss. The Sa Moo-rai’s own eyes narrowed darkly.

With a sudden surge of anger, the defending man strongly pushed away her blocked slash. Using the momentum of his guard and subsequent pushback against him, Fik whirled herself around and brought her right leg up in a spinning roundhouse kick that caught the Sa Moo-rai hard in the chin with the bottom of her dirty foot. Stunned by the sudden retaliation, he spun off awkwardly to the side, almost losing his balance as he stumbled against a small stack of crates. Shaking his head to clear it, he quickly turned himself around, back positioned against the boxes and k’tana raised before him. Expecting her next attack to be stronger than her last, he wrapped both gloved hands around the stark white handle of his blade tightly and waited. He had a surprise or two in store for the little vagrant who thought she could challenge the might of the Traditionalist Government's chosen warriors! But when he raised his eyes to see in what direction she would be attacking from, all he found was…a vanishing dust trail that led out of a now open backdoor.

The Sa Moo-rai just stared blankly at the open door, eyes turned to little black dots as a sudden gust of wind accompanied by a loud crow cawing in the background echoed through the empty space before him.

“Dammit,” he cursed, coming back to his senses and resheathing the k’tana. Pulling himself away from the crates, the white-clad man turned and made his way hurriedly out the front door and into the street where the rest of his men had been readied to block her escape. Rubbing a gloved hand against the side of his face where the girl’s foot had struck him, he began to angrily issue orders to the other men.

“The two of you fan out,” he all but hollered. “Scour this entire sorry little mudhole! I want that vagrant trash found! She couldn’t have gotten too far! Go now! I’ll stay here with the captain! If you find her, apprehend her and bring her to me! ME! Is that understood?”

The two men nodded.

“Then why are you still standing there gawking at me like idiots?! Move out and find that little (CENSORSHIP BLEEP)!!!”

The other two Sa Moo-rai wasted no time as they turned and began their search, each disappearing in the opposite direction. The leader rubbed at his jaw again and then made his way back into the pawnshop to check on the Sa Moo-rai captain. Neither he, nor the other two who had just left noticed the pair of angry red eyes that watched them from the shadows.

cOmMeRcIaL bUmP

(Exit Bump)

Chibi Fik laughing as a white-clad figure before her points a stiff finger in her direction. The word “child” appears above him in a word bubble and Chibi Fik stops laughing and instead becomes surrounded by the Flames of Hell.

(Return Bump)

The white-clad figure is sprawled against the floor with two spinning spirals for eyes, numerous bruises and little squiggly lines of pain hovering over him as Chibi Fik walks away with an innocent look on her face as she dusts off her hands.

CoMmErCiAl BuMp

Great, Fik thought roughly as she tried to catch her breathe while leaning against the side of a wall about three or four streets down from the alley. Just freakin’ great! Now, on top of all the other crap, I had to go and piss off some of those (CAWING CROW) dogs from Sapporo! Man, just how much worse will my day get?! Pulling herself away from the wall, she looked around quickly and then set off smoothly down the dusty road. Casually, she draped the scabbarded k’tana across the top of her shoulders and then placed her arms over its length. Sticking as close as she could to the buildings that she passed, Fik kept scanning the street ahead of her. The moment she spotted anyone clad in white, she had every intention of ducking into an alley and hiding until they went away. Beating down thugs, bandits and other vagrants like herself, no problem. Messing around with Sa Moo-rai who bent knee to the Traditionalist Government? Bad, bad, BAD idea!

Sighing out of a crooked mouth, Fik cast her eyes skyward. Man, why do I let little crap like being called a damned child get to me like that? Jeez, all I had to do was pawn that junk, get my shin-kane and blow this old school nightmare. But nooooooo! I just HAD to argue about a price! I just HAD to piss and moan about it! I just HAD to get mad! I just HAD to launch that stupid Sa Moo-rai’s nuts into outer-freakin’-space! And what’d it get me? Fik sighed again as her stomach rumbled hungrily. Yeah, that and I still smell like five-day-old roadkill, not to mention the fact that those idiot dogs from Sapporo won’t leave me alone now. Especially not after I – ”

Her thoughts were as tossed aside as she had been, sent careening into the mouth of a small alley with a dead end. Landing on her bottom with a grunt, Fik looked up angrily in the direction of what had hit her. What her eyes fell on didn’t change her demeanor. In fact, what she saw only made her angrier. What had knocked her aside turned out to be a who, a number of whos in actuality. Walking through the middle of the street like they owned it and everything around them, was a slow-moving procession of heavily robed Shinto Priests and what they liked to call ‘Shrine Guardsmen’. A noble name bestowed upon common thugs as Fik figured it, men who liked to throw their weight around and show the ‘common’ people who ran things out in the country away from the prying eyes of the capital. That was one reason for her to hate them. The other involved how they had played a pivotal role in her family being dissolved, the so-called ‘Guardsmen’ and their Shinto leash-holders casting accusatory fingers at her father and declaring him a heretic while manipulating her mother into their ranks. Before too long, Fik’s father had been branded a traitor to the Traditionalist Government and executed as a spy; and her mother had given her whole life over to the ideals and goals of the Shinto Priesthood. Eventually, as she had grown older, Fik realized how much she had come to despise both the Priesthood and the woman who had brought her into the world. The confrontation between her and her mother about leaving the temple had been as bitter as it was violent. Fik would never forget the slap that her mother had given her. She would never forget her own slap, or the hateful words of how the woman had helped to kill her father that had flown out of her mouth on that night. It had been the last time she had seen her mother or been anywhere near a Shinto Shrine or Temple. And it was something that she never regretted.

With a dark scowl in the procession’s direction, Fik hefted herself from the dirty ground, brushed off the bottom of her gi top and bent over to retrieve her k’tana. “Damn them,” she mumbled under her breath, straightening to stare at the passing Guardsmen. “Damn them all.”

Returning the sheathed blade to it’s original position across her shoulders, Fik strode out of the mouth of the alleyway and gave a sniff as the tail end of the procession marched on by unimpeded. About to turn away and head back the way she had come, Fik’s sharp eyes caught a flash of movement amongst the circle of Shinto Priests in the procession’s middle. Curiosity overriding her bitterness, she continued to watch to see what was going on. Afterall, any misfortune and trouble that fell into the lap of the almighty Shinto Priesthood would put a smile on her face for days on end. Expression changing into a greasy, mischievous grin, Fik leaned back against the corner of a building behind her to watch what she expected to be a very laughable chain of events at the Priesthood’s expense.

“Bring the kiddies,” she muttered mirthfully, adjusting the k'tana's length across her shoulders easily. “Come see the show.”

As the commotion continued, a small scream could be heard and then a number of shouts following behind it. Fik’s smile only broadened. Then something unexpected happened. A little girl with leather cords binding her thin wrists and dressed in an elaborately designed kimono broke through the rear rank of the Shrine Guardsmen surrounding the procession. The look on Fik’s face went from roguish to utterly confused as the girl squirmed between two of the Guardsmen and ran right toward her. Wait a minute, she thought as she pulled herself away from the building’s corner. Why’s she (SCREECHING TIRES) running towards me?!

Before Fik had a chance to remove herself from what she was sure was about to become a very bad situation for her, the little girl ran up and behind her.

“Help…me,” she uttered fearfully from Fik's rear, trying to catch her breath. “Please…you…have to...help…me…”

Struggling to untangle her arms from around the k’tana draped across her shoulders to grab up the kid and shove her back into the waiting arms of the procession, Fik barely had time to do so. In a clatter of armor and weapons being drawn, both Guardsmen and Shinto Priest surrounded her. Planting her best grin of pure cheesiness on those chapped lips, she raised her arms into the air and allowed the sheathed k’tana to fall to the ground.

“Kid,” she grumbled darkly, giving a very quick nod to the closest Guardsmen as he thrust a very sharp and very menacing naganita into her face. “If we get out of this alive, me and you? Veeery long talk.”

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oF

iMpRiSoNmEnT”

The mellow and haunting opening chords from Ayumi Hamasaki’s “Seasons” start and the camera fades in on a simple green field littered with dozen upon dozens of sunflowers. Within the field, four people are lying on the ground and staring up into the sky. They are all laid out in various positions, eyes lost in deep thought. The camera then fades out of focus only to refocus and clear up on the aged face of Ishida Funk. He has a long piece of grass hanging from his pursed lips. Slowly, an image of a younger him clad all in white and standing rigidly in a line of other similarly dressed men superimposes itself over his face. The image pans away from him to reveal a woman and a child standing next to the far wall of the courtyard, proud expressions on their faces. The camera then returns to him as he gives them a quick grin, then resumes his attentive stance as the apparent captain of his unit comes out to stand before them. A parting shot reveals that the sun is high in the sky and the sakura trees are beginning to bloom. Both the image and Ishida Funk fade out and are replaced by the young, determined face of Konikada Kouri. She is staring up into the sky with wide eyes as an image superimposes itself over her face. In it, she is sitting under a sakura tree as the petals are slowly raining down because of the cool wind. Another girl comes up and casually takes a seat beside her. They speak for a moment, and then they both blush slightly as they touch hands. For a moment, they just gaze at each other. Then, both her and the girl lean toward one another as the image and Konikada Kouri fade out. She is replaced by the innocent face of Rsui, who is eating a stick of sweet dumplings as she looks toward the sky like everyone else. An image of a cold, snowy night overlays itself above her face. Within, she can be seen shivering as she tries to keep warm at the mouth of a small alley. A stranger shrouded in shadows walks up and gazed down at her, and then offers her a hand. Rsui looks up cautiously for a moment then takes the offered hand. Rsui and the image both fade out to be replaced by sleeping face of Fik Shin. Her mouth is hanging open with drool slowly oozing out. Slowly, an image of her crying as a white-clad man is dragged away superimposes itself over her. The man’s face cannot be seen, nor can the woman’s who seems to be holding her back from chasing after the man. The younger Fik screams after them, hitting at the arms holding her back. But soon, the shadowy men disappear and suddenly so does the woman holding her back. She is left standing there all alone under a sakura tree where the petals are in full bloom, tears running down her cheeks endlessly. Both Fik and the image fade away slowly to reveal the group as a whole up and now walking through the field of sunflowers toward the setting sun as the song reaches its conclusion. There is a quick flash of the all four of their faces as the song slowly diminishes then the screen fades into darkness as the words “An End But Not The End” slowly appear. They remain there until the screen goes completely black.

This anime ending was done to the beautiful and melodic music of Ayumi Hamasaki’s “Seasons” from her season CD.

fUtUrE

l

a

s

h

“Oh this just great! Just what I need right now! A bunch of freakin' Shinto Priests and the brute squad! Thanks a lot kid!”

“HEY! It’s not MY fault! Besides, you’re SUPPOSED to be a Sa Moo-rai, right?! So give me a little help!”

“Feh! Help yourself! I’m sooooo outta here”

“Fik! Hey Fik, come back here! We still have to finish the preview for the next karte of slash/DANCE fUtUrE!”

“Forget it, I’m gone! Good luck gettin’ outta that mess without me, Rsui! Later, short-stuff!”

“You big meanie! Come back here and help me! Fik! Fik?! Fine, I’ll do it by myself…BAKA-HEAD!!!”

N

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KARTE

“RSUI’S

SHREDDED

KIMONO”

“Over done, over heard…

…But never Over Easy!!!”