Trigun Fan Fiction ❯ A Drifter's Desire ❯ A Drifter's Desire ( Chapter 1 )

A Drifter's Desire

 

How he came from his world to the lands of 15th century Feudal Japan, no one would ever know, not even him. Nonetheless, he did there what he had always done in the past, regardless of how different his surroundings were: wander. Even in the flourishing valleys he did not settle. Though no one raised a pistol toward him, he continued to travel onward. Though the peasants waved as he traversed their village, he stayed for no longer than a day. Alas, it was his way, but he thought would it be like this eternally? There was no other creature like him here, but creatures of what fairy tales were made of. Demons roamed freely and without any question. Many of the inhabitants were easily several hundred and even thousand years old. Their eyes game in all colors of the spectrum. Some would let their hair down past their knees, which shimmered like jewelry. All their weapons were ancient but amazing in strength. They wielded magic that could kill so easily at will. What was a simple man with a simple revolver going to do to survive an environment where the magical was all too common? Even though the odds were far out of his favor, he was accepted with open arms. His sweetness and carefree nature placated and fascinated them. Demon women offered to be betrothed to him, but he continued to be his vagabond self. He drank with the demonic civilians, and thus threw up with them too. He cavorted with royalty, the common, and even the immortal. He traveled far among the lands, betwixt nations, and journeyed into deserts and mountain tops. However, his urge for wandering becomes overpowered by a different need, a need as old as life itself.

 

The grainy wind buffeted Vash the Stampede. His faded, tawny cloak whipped belligerently in protest at the weather. Though he never thought of settling, the lands where he walked upon now felt the most familiar and welcoming: the Southern Lands. He knew as soon as he arrived, he'd be welcomed by a bear hug from the local princess. She'd probably offer him a drink there afterward, he thought. Vash smiled to himself, remembering as she would giggle maniacally and fall over, clutching her sides from the combination of strong local sake. Just thinking of her made him blush. She was so different from him, so raucous, so wild and untamed. He pulled his traveling cloak tighter around him. His sunglasses reflected the afternoon sun, his bristly blond hair flailed wildly in the gusts of the desert. The orange shades slipped down the bridge of his nose, unveiling the most startling blue eyes. He pushed them back up with a gloved finger. The sand shifted and crackled under his boots, always the same crackling noise. The monotony made his mind wander again. The demon princess of the Southern Lands materialized in his thoughts again. She was temperamental and passionate with a tomboy, go-getter attitude. She teased him at every chance she got, whether it would be his metal arm, his love of donuts, or just his overall laxness toward life. She was as much of a mystery to him as he was to her. Her eyes had the most intense ruby color he ever encountered. She was royalty, obviously, but never appeared or acted like it. She never wore makeup of any sort. The only jewelry she wore as a pendant hung by a silver chain around her neck, not even a circlet or tiara. Her kimono was not the richly layered and expertly designed like the others, just a blue and red design in the shape of repeating waves tied with a yellow sash. What made her so unique were the wine-colored wings that sprouted from her back like masses of tarp. They were thin on the most part; he could see the veins through the membrane. Vash had watched her in flight before, like something from a childhood fantasy. She glided through the skies as naturally as any falcon. She was a Dragon, something Vash has always thought, was nothing but a legend and a pipe dream.

 

His eyelids drooped somewhat, the tedious trotting through the desert was numbing him mentally. He was glad that the Southern Capital was just a mile away. Soon he would reach warm food, a place to rest, and…her. “Kia,” he whispered between chapped lips. He suddenly grew more alert. Vash was always silent when he traveled and only thought of childhood memories; this was so new to him. It startled him. True he was flirt, but never has a woman remained in his constant thought other than Rem. Vash then felt a pang of foolishness. He was a simple, poor gunman with no home and clung to a foolish and impossible dream of world love and peace. Kia was a Dragon princess with an array of powerful weapons and could summon lethal fire magic. He then sighed, he knew she saw him as nothing but a weak, naïve boy. “It could never be,” he mused to himself. A surge of depression and hopelessness engulfed him as he stood upon a mound of sand and looked down at the Southern castle.

 

He looked upon the peaceful scene sullenly, pulling back his cloak since the winds has ceased. Vash plodded through the sand half-heartedly, hoping to be inconspicuous to Kia. It was hard for him being in a bright red trench coat with highlighter-blond hair. Another sigh escaped his dry lips as he continued on into the city. He was just another passerby to the Dragon villagers. He plopped down under a willow tree, lost in his own self-pity. I am going to be alone all my life he thought drearily. “It is my destiny,” he murmured in a hush. He curled his knees to his chest and rested his head on his knees. As he covered his head with his arms, the cool autumn climate made him drowsy. Before he could realize his own sleepiness, he was already in light repose.

 

“Vash! Vashu! Vashy-kins! Vash the Stampede!” a familiar teasing voice prodded him in his sleep. He snorted once and looked up, stiff from his curled up ball under the tree. The benevolent face of Princess Kia looked down on him. She was grinning at him broadly; Vash could see the ivory fangs that jutted down slightly farther from the others. Her hair was the same as he last saw her, raven in color and just floating above her shoulders. He face remained unadorned, the same crimson and silver pendant hanging from her neck. He wondered if she would ever change. He smiled slightly, their friendship mattered more than his petty longings.

 

“Hello again, Miss Kia,” Vash said in his soft pleasant voice. She stomped her foot in a childish way.

 

“You know I hate it when you call me that formally. It was cute when we first met, but we're friends now,” she said in her typical sharp tone. Vash rubbed the back of his head, laughing at her antics and boldness.

 

“I'm sorry Kia, I'm just so used to it,” he said in a defeated tremble. She scowled but only in a playfully manner. “Like I'm used to you making fun of me.” Vash gave Kia his usual absent-minded, saintly smile. She stuck her tongue at him for it. Vash brushed himself off and then stood to full height, towering above the short Dragoness. She despised being so short and called him `oaf' and anytime she could.

 

“Have you've been traveling through the desert again?” she asked. Vash stared at his black leather gloves, sand encrusting them and every other article of clothing on him.

 

“Well yeah, I couldn't pay the toll on any other route,” he responded matter-of-factly. A big glob of sweat form on the back of Kia's head at his reply. She reached up and batted at his hair, a shower of sand pouring from his tresses. “Well so much for my cloak helping me through the sand storm,” he sighed and pulled it from his back, it was obviously on its last leg.

 

“You look like Hell,” Kia stated.

 

“Thanks,” he said sardonically placing his hands on his hips. He was more than used to her chiding and smart-ass remarks. He knew she only did that to the people she cared about. He finally noticed that the sky was beginning to tinge orange; he slept a lot more than he originally planned.

 

“Well Vash, I'm hosting another party at the hot springs, but not until the moon comes out. I'll let you use the showers to get that damned sand off your scalp.” Vash's face burst into a grin.

 

“Aw Kia! I know you were much kinder and generous than you make yourself out to be,” he exclaimed as he hugged her tightly.

 

“Oi! You're such an oaf! And you're getting sand all over me, you bristle-headed dolt!” she grumbled. He let her go and found out she was right, he had covered her in coarse sand and she batting at her short hair to get them out. Vash rubbed the back of his head from embarrassment.

 

“Well I thank you for the offer, Kia. I really appreciate it.” He smiled broadly down at her. She gave him a quick glare and straightened herself demurely.

 

“Then follow me, you donut-humping dork!” She dashed away after her insult. He sighed with exasperation and sprinted after her.

 

Vash and Kia ran uphill. To Kia it was a typical stroll to her town, but to Vash it was a marathon of death ran by a crazed demoness. She smirked widely as she listened to him pant while he tried desperately, but futilely, to keep pace. The path turned into stairs as it inclined sharply. She hopped up the stairs two at a time while Vash continued to try and not trip. Sweat trickled down his brow, his huffing becoming hoarser with each agonizing step. She laughed at his fatigue and stood proudly at the summit. She tapped her foot in impatience as he finally survived the last step. His face was red from exhaustion.

 

“You're going to be the end of me, you know that right?” Vash said as he finally obtained some breath. She merely smirked at him. “I probably won't have enough energy to stand while showering.”

 

“You're too tall, the shower spray won't reach your head,” Kia responded. Vash smacked his own brow with his hand and sighed deeply. “Oh don't be such a damned wet blanket. Just sit on one of the stools.” She pointed toward the wooden shower house. “Now I need to go and prepare the food and the sauna, so just leave before the guests get here.” Before he could respond anymore she turned and walked off. He watched as her wine-red wings bobbed away and proceeded to the hut.

 

There was a paper screen door and he pushed it away. It led to a plain, square room with a wall full of hooks. He looked beyond the room and saw the tiles of the shower room through the empty door way. He took off his sunset tinted shades and rested them on a wooden shelf. He unbuttoned and slipped off his leather coat, sand hissed as it fell from it. He tugged at his gloves until they glided off his arms. He flexed his metal arm experimentally, shaking stray grains from it. His blue eyes shifted to see if Kia was happening to be the evil little spy he expected her to be. However, there was no a sound to be heard except for the hissing of the pouring sand from his clothing. He shook his head; his bristles swayed and flung more grains onto the tatami floor. He knew it was safe in there and promptly unfastened his pants and pushed them down to his ankles. He removed his boots and then pressed the pant so off his ankles. He stood bare now, for he had never wore underwear when he reached adulthood. He stepped through the bare doorway into the showering room. The tiles were patterned into diamond shapes in different shadings of blue. There were two showerheads, and like Kia said, were several inches shorter than Vash's head. He looked at the wooden stool and sat down. To his relief it was dry as was that side of the shower. The other side was glistening with moisture, looking as it used just shortly before. He wondered if it was Kia who last used or maybe someone else. There was a tiny privacy window that let the orange rays of the sun show through and a shelf with wash cloths, soaps, and some scented perfumes. He was amazed by the modern design of the faucet system and turned the two knobs for some warm water. He placed his fingers under the solid stream. It was already warm to his awe. He leaned his whole body into the stream. The heat felt so relaxing. The running water coursed down his muscled form. His bristly hair flattened and flowed down his back. The droplets slid down his thigh and washed away the grainy from his scarred skin. He took the washcloth and rubbed his face. A smile curled on his lips, for a moment he felt like he was at home. The soap made his flesh shine and have a delicious smell of purity. The swirled down inside the drain. Vash sighed contently, running his fingers through his blonde tresses. The water moistened his cracked lips and he ran his tongue slowly over them to see that they had healed up. He shut the water off and peered at the crystal bottles of perfume. They were labeled and he could smell their scent through the nozzle. One smelled like vanilla, another was lavender, the last bottle smelled like kiwi. He blinked curiously at the last one, he remember Kia smell like kiwi but didn't may much attention to it. When she appeared in his mind, he felt the need more powerful than that to wander setting in.

 

Vash stood up and walked toward the damp side of the shower. He immediately absorbed the lingering scent of kiwi…and her. He gasped and placed one hand on the wall as a surge of desire pulsed down his spine. The floor beneath his feet was still hot; she apparently took very heated showers. He imagined her so clearly, her naked form sitting on the stool. The caressing water dripped down her plump breasts. His hands clenched with a want to squeezing and massaging those breasts. He licked his lips again in yearning to place his tongue against her perky nipples. Never has his lust taken him over so voraciously. It was so long since he felt the touch of a woman, and it still could not be quelled. He turned so his back rested on the wall tile, it was so warm. He glided his hands down his battle scarred chest, the cold of his metal hand sending chills down his spine. Vash pressed his fingers against his pink nipples and caressed them. He felt his arousal firing up. He pressed his hands against his shoulders and breathed heavily as he slid them down his wet arms. It was as though he could feel Kia embracing her bare body with his; he would give up everything to have that at that very moment. He shifted his right hand to his stomach and began petting his muscular abdomen. His fingers brushed against each perfect ripple in his abs. The faintest of a moan slipped from his lips. It was a beautiful, angelic sound. His pure voice keened through the walls, echoing hungrily He let himself slide down until he rested against the floor. The heat and cool of the tiles set his body in a flurry of lust. He gasped deeper as he felt his manhood fill with blood and grow erect. He rubbed his inner thighs with his right, teasing himself as she would to him. He stroked the skin around his length, making his passion pound with craving. He closed his eyes, making his princess feel so tangible in his mind so he would imagine her pleasuring his body. He yearned to give his own offering of love and lust but had to express it on his own body.

 

His pistol was fully hard when he opened his orbs. It throbbed with longing. Water slid down its length, making it glint in a needy way. He would have given his soul to plunge it in her womanhood. He used two fingers and rubbed it against the tip of his manhood. He moaned loudly from his parted lips. “Kia! Oh my precious Kia! My beautiful princess Kia!” His back arched her name alone giving him ecstasy. Vash's long, thick manhood released a drop of sticky fluid. He groaned deeper as he grasped the entirety of his pistol with his fingers. Sweat drizzled down his face when he began to self-pleasure himself. At first, he only pumped the tip and down some, but as his excitement mounted he pleasured it all down to the base. He wondered if it would be big enough to tame Kia, but it was truly a gift he had. His mechanical hand clenched as his grip tightened on the girth of his passion pistol. Vash tilted his head back, his mouth agape. Heavy and aroused pants emerged from his mouth, mixed with moans and howls of Kia's name. He felt as though she had mounted him and rode him while she exclaimed his name. Her milky flesh felt so perfect in his mind. He had the urge to be set off so he took his right hand off his pounding manhood and began pleasing himself with his cold metal fingers. The chill that rippled his body made him howl and scream. “Kia! Oh! Oh!! Kia!!” He felt a rush of numbness at the base of his spine; he was about to climax. He shut his eyes once again, feeling like a shore would when a wave washed across it. He experienced a great moment of nirvana as his length released his white seed all across his right hand.

 

Vash panted with relief when he finally tamed his desire. He looked at the pool of lust juice in his hand. He took his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. Some of his fluids streamed down his arms and he went to lap them up when he heard a soft gasp coming from the doorway. Kia was standing there, her slender hands covering her mouth. His face went burning hot from mortification, a boulder of shame dropped in his stomach. He had been defiling her building from his own foolish dreams and desires. Vash almost felt like crying, for he knew she had heard him calling her name, and she had rushed inside to see if he was in peril. So know she knew that he lusted for her. He was tense against the wall of the shower, like a wounded animal. Her hands left her lips and approached him warily. She knelt by his side, her eyes not unkind. She took his chin in her hands and tilted it to look at her, he recoiled back. She rested her other hand on the back of his head, her fingers nestling inside his golden hair. She leaned down and threaded her tongue into his mouth. Vash's eyes widened at her sudden boldness but he nonetheless enjoyed the feel of her aggressive tongue wriggling inside his mouth and rubbing against his own. She brought his own submissive tongue into her mouth and sucked on it hard, making his whole body burst into trembles. She tasted his hot seed in his mouth, it had an erotically salty taste but delicious nonetheless. She let his tongue loose and stood back up from her kneeling position. She licked her lips sensually.

 

“Maybe next time, Vash the Stampede, you will share,” she said with a smirk. Vash looked at her dumbfounded. She exited the area but soon returned with his clothing. He took them tentatively, they were warm and clean and free of debris. He blushed deeply and clutched them to his chest.

 

“T-Thank you Kia,” he said shyly. She walked toward the screen door but before departing she said one last word of parting.

 

“Will you return to me, Vash?” she inquired. Vash looked at her deeply, wishing he could gaze into her eyes. It was not his way to return to where he had departed, let alone so many times.

 

“Of course, my perfect Princess,” Vash replied gently. Kia blushed vividly at his compliment but hid it by being turned away from him. She wasn't used to be called “perfect”. Her sandals scuffed the floor as she strolled out of the small clothing storage room. “I love you, Kia,” Vash finally blurted. She smiled an enigmatic smile which he could not see.

 

“I know, Vash, I know. However, do not falter from your dream just for a lowly creature like me. You are a bringer of love and peace and I am nothing but a taker of lives. I know you can find someone more forgiving, more pure, than me,” her voice was low. “You're too good for me.” Vash stepped back in shock from her words. Too good for her? It was the most absurd thing she had ever said, but she was obviously serious. Then she left Vash for him to ponder. Would he continue his migratory ways? Would he always be the `Lone' Gunman? Or could he finally find the home he never had in the lands of Feudal Japan? Even he did not know.