| Summer Crossover Series 2003: Azuke By Kuzibah |
| A Buffy/Spirited Away (Japanese anime) Crossover Warning: Contains small spoilers about the upcoming season of Angel (Season 5). If you wish to be completely unspoiled, please read no further. Disclaimer: Spike and other characters and situations particular to "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" are the property of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and other individuals and corporate bodies. Kohaku, Zeniba, the bathhouse of the spirits, and other characters and settings from the film �Spirited Away� (�Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi�) are the property of Hayao Miyazaki, Studio Ghibli, and The Disney Corporation (English language distributor). No copyright infringement is intended or implied. Introduction to "Azuke": When Spike was last seen, he was turning into dust under the focused power of the amulet sent by Angel to destroy the minions of the first (or something like that). According to the latest spoilers, he will be returning to �Angel� this season as a ghost, at least for the first few episodes. The film �Spirited Away� (�Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi�) concerns a ten-year-old girl who is drawn into a mysterious world of spirits when her parents are transformed into pigs. To save them, she must take work at a bathhouse for spirits, and through her bravery, cleverness, and heart find a way to break the enchantment and return home. Along the way she meets Yubaba, the grotesque witch who runs the bathhouse, her twin sister Zeniba, who is �exactly the same and completely opposite,� Kamajii, the many-armed old man who runs the boiler for the baths, Lin, her supervisor on the job, and Haku, Yubaba�s apprentice, who is really a dragon, or maybe a river. The film draws from many traditions, and is as strongly influenced by Western fairy tales as by Shinto spiritualism, and was written and directed by master animator Hayao Miyazaki. Miyazaki has been called the Japanese Walt Disney, but that oversimplifies his standing in Japanese film, where animated films are not relegated to the ghetto of �children�s movie,� but are made for the same audiences as live-action films. To give you some perspective, every film that Miyazaki has directed since 1984's �Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind� (8 in total) has been the top grossing film in Japan the year it was released. �Spirited Away� won the Oscar� last year for Best Animated Film, and is ranked the #1 Animated film on the IMDB. It is the highest-grossing film in Japanese history (animated or live-action), and won the 53rd Berlin Film Festival�s Golden Bear Award for Best Picture. It is amazing. It is breathtaking. It is a remarkable achievement in film. If you haven�t seen it, run to your video store and buy it now. Rating: PG Archive- Please email request. Feedback- Absolutely. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Spike woke up. It was dark, and he was lying on something soft. A bed, he guessed. Not far away he could hear water slapping rhythmically against wood, and the room he was in swayed slightly. A boat, then. After another moment he realized he was not alone. Nearby there was a rustle of stiff cloth, and a single exhaled breath. Then a flame was ignited and the room came into view. Spike sat up and took instant inventory of his surroundings: a plain room with smooth-sanded wood floors and walls, the bed he was on, a low table with a burning lamp, and a pale-skinned girl in some sort of Asian peasant clothes. No, not a girl. Not exactly. The proportions weren�t quite right. Her mouth was too wide, and her eyes too far apart. Something that looked like a girl. �Who are you?� Spike asked. The girl bowed low. �Forgive me, Banpaia-san,� she said. �I am only the riverboat�s most humble servant, and came only to inform you that we are about to dock.� Spike blinked. The girl bowed again. �Can I help you in any way, Banpaia-san? You have only to ask.� �Yeah,� Spike said. �Where are we docking? How did I get here?� She bowed a third time. �We are about to arrive at the bathhouse, sir. And� you got here the way all spirits get here.� �Of course,� Spike said under his breath. The girl held up a large rectangle painted with a stylized face. �Here is your mask, sir,� she said. �Don�t forget to wear it as you disembark, so they recognize you.� Then with a murmured apology the servant left him alone. Spike had barely risen from the bed, when he felt the boat come to a smooth stop, and her wooden beams groaned as she ran up against the shallows. He crossed to the door, put on the mask left by the servant, and stepped out onto the deck. Above him a row of twinkling pink lights hung from the upper deck, and beyond the gingerbreaded railing stretched an expense of black water as far as he could see. Far off behind the riverboat�s enormous paddle-wheel were the lights of a distant city. Then, up and down the deck around him other cabin doors were opened and masks similar to his own floated out and filed towards the gangplank. Spike looked down at himself and, seeing nothing, realized the masks were disguising spirits, giving a form to what was formless. And he was a spirit, too. As he fell into line and started down the gangplank, he saw the illusion of clothing form over his body, and then he was in a crowd of merry, laughing spirits, all masked and draped in formless clothes. They climbed a stone staircase from the dock, and walked along a wide, lighted pathway. Other spirits joined them, and Spike felt himself become more solid, more himself, with every step. They came to a bridge, arcing gracefully towards a tall Japanese bathhouse, its boiler-stack silhouetted against the starry sky and the waste-water tumbling over rocks below. Lanterns illuminated the bridge and more servants like the one on the riverboat called their greetings to the guests. An enormous green frog in a white, belted jacket hopped up to Spike. �Good evening, Banpaia-san,� it said. �Welcome. I have been sent by Master Kohaku to escort you inside personally for this visit.� �Who�s Kohaku?� Spike said. �What am I doing here?� The frog groveled at his feet. �Please, Banpaia-san, all will be explained to you,� he said. �You are a most honored guest, and we wish only to serve you.� Spike hesitated only a moment longer, then muttered, �what the hell,� and followed his hopping guide into the bathhouse. They bypassed the changing stalls where kimonoed serving girls helped the now-corporeal spirits disrobe and prepare for the healing herbal baths, and went straight to a wooden elevator. The doors slid closed and the frog spoke again. �You can take off your mask, now, Banpaia-san,� he said, and Spike did, leaning it against the wall of the elevator. After a moment the doors opened onto a dim but extravagantly decorated hall. Every inch was brightly painted with flowers and abstract shapes, and as they exited the elevator crystal chandeliers ignited above them. Spike followed the frog down a polished marble hallway until they came to two enormous oak doors. The frog knocked. Within a youthful voice said, �come in.� The door opened to reveal a boy, no more than a child, really, seated at a large desk piled with books and papers. He gestured for Spike to sit down, and a blue armchair slid across the floor for him. Spike sat, and the frog left them alone. �You�re Master Kohaku, I presume,� Spike said. �That�s what the frogs and slugs call me,� the boy said. �My full name is Nigihayami Kohaku Nushi.� Spike felt the power of the name spoken aloud flow into the room like the heaviness in the air before a thunderstorm. �Are you the Master of this place?� he asked. �Yubaba, the sorceress, runs the bathhouse,� Kohaku said. �Her sister, Zeniba, cares for the accounts. I was Yubaba�s henchman until recently, when I remembered my name and broke the spell over me. Now I make sure she doesn�t imprison others by stealing their names.� He smiled slyly. �I suppose I�m her business partner, but make no mistake, she�d break the partnership if she could.� Spike glanced around the ornate office. �Well, this is all very interesting,� he said dryly, �but why am I here? I�m not a god or spirit or whatever. I�m not even Japanese. I�m just dead. I was actually expecting to be taking in the dinner show in Hell right about now.� Kohaku crossed his fingers and leaned forward on the desk. �All I know is that someone has plans for you, someone powerful. They�ve just decided to stash you here until needed, where you won�t get in the way and no one will stumble across you accidentally.� Spike stiffened, hissing with a sudden rush of anger, but Kohaku smiled sympathetically. �Believe me,� he said, �it�s not a plan I approve of, and no one consulted me for my opinion, but I am using the power I have to see you�re treated well, and to answer your questions if I can.� Spike�s eyes narrowed. �Okay,� he said. �How long am I here?� �That hasn�t been determined. You�ll be summoned when you�re needed.� �Needed for what?� Kohaku shook his head. �I�ve no idea.� �Alright then. Where will I be going when I leave?� Kohaku looked thoughtful. �I gather you�ll be re-uniting with someone you know, to work with them. But I don�t know what you�ll be doing, before you ask.� �Buffy,� Spike said softly. �I�ll bet she got the witch to do this, same as she got sucked back.� �Again, I really don�t know,� Kohaku said. �But I�ll promise you this. I�ve been a slave, and I�ll prevent it happening to others if I can.� He rose smoothly and walked past Spike towards the door. �Now come with me,� he said. �I�ll take you to the baths. You may as well enjoy this well-appointed cage.� *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Not long after, Spike had disrobed and been led to a round, stone bathtub. The serving-girl attending him had sent for an herbal bath by way of a wooden token on a pulley-chain behind the wall, and moments later a sluice-pipe had filled the tub with steaming, floral-scented water. Spike sank in, groaning with pleasure as the healing water soaked into his skin. Afterwards, he�d been taken to a private room, where he�d indulged in a small feast of tea and dumplings and a massage with sandalwood oil. After three days of feasting, bathing, and massage, he thought he�d go out of his mind, and sought out Kohaku again. The servants led him back to the ornate office, but this time he found it empty, so he took a chair to wait. He sensed other spirits in the room with him, delicate things just beyond the range of his vision, and he tried to catch sight of them in the corner of his eye. He'd met several spirits here already: tree and rock spirits, mountain and river gods, elementals and ghosts. Eight million in all, he was told. The air in the room grew heavy, and the quality of the light began to change. Spike turned in his chair, and blast of heated air, as from a furnace, rushed out of the empty fireplace, scattering the papers across the room. Spike leapt to his feet just as an enormous white dragon came down the chimney into the room. Roaring like a hurricane, it coiled and twisted madly, trying to find a way to fit its snake-like body into the room. Spike cried out and crouched against the front of the desk, his arms over his face. Then, just as suddenly, there was silence. Or near silence, only the panting breath of the dragon. Spike realized he was shaking, his eyes shut tight, but he couldn't bring himself to look fully at the creature he had only managed to catch glimpses of as it tore around the room. He felt the dragon's hot breath against the top of his head, and a whimper escaped his lips. Then there was a rustle of movement, and Kohaku's voice. "I'm sorry, Spike," he said. "I didn't mean to frighten you." Spike squinted open his eyes to find Kohaku crouched before him, looking concerned. The dragon was gone. "Where'd it go?" Spike said, standing and looking around as though it had managed to conceal itself behind a stack of books. Kohaku laughed. "It's right here," he said, and Spike understood. "You're a dragon?" Kohaku climbed into his desk chair, gesturing to the papers and books that had been upset, causing them to go back into place. "Actually, I'm a river god," he said. "We appear as dragons." "Bloody hell." Kohaku regarded Spike with a thoughtful expression. "I'm hungry," he said. "Let's go out to the restaurants tonight." Spike blew out a sigh. "Okay," he said. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* They left the bathhouse by the front door, crossed back over the bridge, then walked down into the village below. The streets here wound up and down, with stone stairs leading all around. Every shop seemed to be a food stall of some kind, and brightly-colored lanterns and neon signs hung everywhere. "What are you hungry for?" Kohaku asked. "Dumplings or fish stew? Maybe some sake?" Spike inhaled deeply. The food in this place was definitely a plus; if he remained a spirit, he doubted he'd be able to eat once he returned to the material world, so he felt compelled to take advantage now. "Lots of everything," he said. "The spicier, the better," and Kohaku laughed. "Come with me," he said, taking Spike's arm. "I know where we'll go." Spike found himself in a private room above one of the shops, playing dice with Kohaku and several other spirits. The game was lively and raucous, and cold beer and warm sake were plentiful. He and Kohaku did not return to the bathhouse until it was nearly dawn, and he fell into a heavy sleep. Afterwards, Spike's routine became more varied. Some nights he stayed in and took a bath and massage, as when he'd first arrived. Other nights, Kohaku would seek him out, and they'd go into the village, or roam other parts of the bathhouse. One night they fished from the riverboat dock, pulling up pink and silver fish with big blue eyes and fins like dragonfly wings. Sometimes, looking out the windows at dusk, Spike could see the dragon Kohaku flying high in the air, a silver ribbon in the dying rays of the sun. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* One night, before darkness had fallen completely, Spike heard the door to his room slide open, and opened his eyes to see Kohaku step inside. He carried blue-and-white clothes like those the bathhouse servants wore. "I've news from outside," he said. "But I'm not letting you go without some answers. Put those on and come with me. We've a visit to make." Spike changed quickly, then Kohaku led him down the elevator and through a small sliding door into the boiler room. He had told Spike about Kamajii, the many-armed man who made sure hot water and herbal washes were delivered to the baths, but it was still a bit startling to see him in the flesh. "Kamajii, this is Spike," Kohaku said by way of introduction, and the boiler-man peered through his thick glasses and sniffed, causing his walrus-like mustache to twitch. "Yes, I know him," Kamajii said. "Sea salt, rose, lavender, chamomile, and mint. Are you sleeping better?" Spike blinked. "Yes, I am," he said. "Thank you." "Just doing my job," Kamajii said gruffly, then went back to grinding herbs in his mortar. "Watch your step here," Kohaku said, climbing down from Kamajii's platform to the floor. Spike followed, stepping carefully around what looked like animated dust balls carrying lumps of coal to the furnace. They walked down a long hallway filled with machinery and pipes and came to a heavy metal door. "The sun is almost down," Kohaku said. "The minute it sets, we need to go." Spike nodded, feeling suddenly very nervous. He'd seen much that was strange and fantastic while here, but so far, he'd been completely safe, and he�d been able to put the mysterious purpose behind his being here had been pushed to the back of his mind. Now, it seemed his days were numbered. Kohaku cracked open the door and peered out. �The sun is down,� he said, and threw the door wide. Wind rushed in, plucking Spike�s garments away from his skin. He took an unconscious step back from the door, and Kohaku took his hand. �Don�t be afraid,� the boy said. �I won�t let you be harmed. Now, when I change, I need you to jump onto my back, so I can carry you.� And then he dropped Spike�s hand and transformed himself into the white-furred dragon, coiling around Spike like a severed high-voltage wire. Spike gritted his teeth and clenched his fists at his side, then took three running steps and was on the dragon�s back, just behind his head. He gripped the curving horns in each hand and clenched the dragon�s body with his legs as tightly as he could. Before he was fully seated, they were airborne. The dragon streaked through the air like hot mercury, and nearly a minute went by before Spike realized he was gasping in air. It was another five before he could find the presence of mind to stop. He buried his face in the dragon�s silky fur. It smelled like rain in the autumn, and Spike remembered Kohaku was a creature of water. Below them he saw the same train that passed under the bathhouse bridge, but a moment later it was far behind, as was all the landscape below, and they followed the train track like an iron arrow. Spike was just beginning to relax and enjoy the flight when the dragon began a spiraling descent towards a little cottage in a wooded glade. They touched down as lightly as a soup bubble in the cottage�s front yard. Spike scrambled off the dragon�s back and stood beside it, looking it over now that he had the chance. The dragon�s face was long, wolfish, with horns and long barbels from its upper lip, like whiskered bullwhips. Spike�s body gave a small shudder at being in the beast�s proximity, and then Kohaku the boy was beside him again. They turned towards the cottage door, which swung open at their approach. Kohaku demurred to Spike as they entered, and Spike found himself gasping in shock again. A woman sat at the table, but a woman grotesquely disproportioned. She looked like an illustration from Alice in Wonderland, all enormous head balanced on tiny body. But her expression was kind, and she was pouring tea into flowered china cups. �Come in, William,� she said. �Sit with me. I have much to tell you.� �It�s okay,� Kohaku said softly behind him. �She�s a friend, and she knows things.� Spike entered, and took a seat. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* The woman was Zeniba, twin sister to the witch who ran the bathhouse, and a sorceress in her own right. Her powers were just as great as her sister�s, but far more subtle. Two cups of tea, several biscuits, and a bit of gossip between Kohaku and Zeniba later, she turned to Spike and smiled. �You�re afraid of what awaits you back in the material world, aren�t you,� she said. �Well, yeah,� Spike said. �I mean, I�ve been stashed here for a reason, and I�m a bit worried about something that�s powerful enough to do the stashing.� Kohaku�s eyes narrowed, even as Zeniba nodded knowingly. �But what�s your alternative?� Spike thought for a moment. �I could stay,� he said. �The bathhouse isn�t such a bad patch. It�d do me for awhile.� �My sister would never allow it,� Zeniba said. �Everything must be paid for there. For now, it is paid for by your mysterious benefactor. If you deny them, the money goes, too.� �I could work,� Spike said desperately. �Like Kohaku does, or Kamajii.� Zeniba�s expression turned to dismay, even as Kohaku jumped to his feet and planted his palms on the table. �Don�t say that,� he said. �Not even in jest. Yubaba would take your name and never let you leave.� �The devil you know�� Spike said. �Kohaku is right,� Zeniba said calmly. �But your sojourn here has had an unexpected consequence, and one that gives you power over the one who wants to control your destiny.� Spike and Kohaku both looked at her expectantly, and Zeniba gave a sly smile. �Dragons are beings of pure elemental power, William,� she said. �Merely having Kohaku as a friend empowers you, gives you a secret reserve of force they will not suspect.� Kohaku sat back and laughed, and after a moment Zeniba and Spike joined him. �Now who wants more tea,� Zeniba said. *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* A few days later, Spike and Kohaku were perched atop the bathhouse, watching the riverboat prepare to leave the dock. The wind blowing across the water carried the chill of the coming autumn. �You�ll have to leave on it tonight,� Kohaku said. �I know,� Spike said. �You�ll forget,� Kohaku said. �They�ll make you.� Spike said nothing, only chewed his thumbnail. �But there must be one thing,� Kohaku said, almost desperate. �I�ll remember you, but there must be one thing that will touch your memory, stir the power you have� Spicy noodles! The baths! The silver fish!� �The smell of rain,� Spike said quietly, and Kohaku was silent. �Your fur, when you are the dragon,� Spike said. �You smell of rain.� Kohaku nodded. �Yes,� he said. �I was a river once.� �I won�t forget, Kohaku,� Spike said. �The part of me that doesn�t have words, it will know you when it smells the rain.� Kohaku�s eyes squeezed shut, and when he opened them again, they were clear and somber. In silence they climbed from the roof and walked toward the dock. Main Menu ~ Return to Crossover Menu |