[Fanfic] GetBackers (various)

[anenko.livejournal.com]

GetBackers
(Hevn, Himiko, Madoka, Sakura, Natsumi, Clayman, Ren, Rena)

GetBackers is a manga and anime about a couple of dorks (with superpowers!) named Ban and Ginji. They have various (superpowered!) friends and foes, and get in all sorts of trouble as they go about trying to "get back what shouldn't be gone" as a retrival duo by the name of "GetBackers."

The series is dorky and angsty--sometimes even at the same time!--and I heart it despite it's many flaws.

Check out gisho's overview, or my far less detailed one.

GetBackers has some great female characters, although it isn't a series I'd pick up if you don't have a strong stomach for fanservice (the anime is far better on this count than the manga). The female characters will usually end up with torn clothes, and most of them have gigantic breasts that hardly fit into their clothes to begin with. One of our heroes also thinks it's perfectly okay to sneak up behind a woman and grope her breasts.

GetBackers is far from an enlightened feminist story, but the fans more than make up for that.



Fanfic

Note: This is not strictly a list of recs, as several of my own stories appear here.



let's be professional about this, by incandescens

Hevn cleaned her polished nails with a stiletto, and frowned at the result. "Now just look at this," she said reprovingly. "Have you any idea how much trouble it is to get blood out?"

The fat man kneeling in front of her whimpered. The other bodies lying on the floor didn't make a sound.

"Let's go through it again," Himiko said, "just to be absolutely sure on this." She was in loose silks and gloves, her skirt slit up at the side high enough to let her kick a man standing behind her in the throat.

untitled, by archangelbeth

They ambushed her at her house. Not right outside the Honky Tonk (where she'd finished a very frustrating talk with that annoying pair of GetBackers), no, they weren't that considerate. They had to wait till she was not only away from people who might have rescued her (Ginji was such a soft-hearted puppy), but after she's fought her way through traffic made worse by at least two accidents.

And not even right as she parked her car and got out -- no, they waited until she was right at her door and thinking about how she was going to have a hot bath when she got in. And they didn't even have the grace to pull a gun on her and let her walk on her own two feet. Not a shred of "Hevn-san, please come with us." No, they used some kind of nasty smelling drug on a square of cloth.

As she woke up, the mattress beneath her feeling as if it were swaying side to side and jackhammers rhythmically pounding in her ears and brain, she remembered all that and thought that Lady Poison would have been offended.

Renting In Her Meadow, by allira_dream

“No, no, Natsumi-chan,” Hevn says with a smile. “Softer. You're seventeen. Right now, the fact that you are cute is your greatest weapon. Seductive comes after.”

Natsumi pouts a little, shoulders slouching. “But being 'cute' just means guys only see you as a little sister.”

Tip, by infinitys_tale

"Well," Hevn drew out some money. "I have enough for the bill, but not enough for a tip."

Natsumi blushed and waved her hand. "Don't worry about that. I don't need a tip." She smiled and shook her head.

Hevn tilted her head, her blonde hair swaying and looked at Natsumi appraisingly. "Natsumi-chan?" She cocked a finger in a come hither motion, and Natsumi leaned on the counter, looking confused.

"Hevn-san?"

Ladylike, by anenko

The blow made a satisfying sound as her fist connected with his nose. Hevn turned around on her stool, and cast a furious glare at Ban. It never ceased to amaze her that he reacted the same way each and every time--but she was growing tired of indulging him.

mist condensing into mushrooms, by anenko

Himiko’s rage is vast, unending. It sustains her through the first weeks of her grief: she must survive, and grow strong so that she might destroy Ban as utterly as he has her.

Brother(s), by anenko

Himiko is frightened, but she is still *Kudou Himiko.* She sneers at the man towering over her. She will not die here. Himiko is fast. She pulls back her foot, and strikes.

Ban is at the mouth of the alley. His hands are hooked into the pockets of his jeans. There are two bodies crumpled on the ground, at his feet. Ban says: "it's not nice to gang up on little girls."

Himiko is already on her feet. There is an open vial of perfume in her hand. The man who had struck her is on the ground, clawing at his throat, eyes streaming with tears. Himiko is not weak, and Ban is not needed here. Himiko glowers at Ban. She says: "I had everything under control."

Fire-breather, by anenko

The inside of her mouth is raw.

Her throat burns.

It hurts to breathe, but she has been waiting for this moment for too long now--so very long, and the fire spitting from between blistered lips is nothing to the hot rage that has burned within her since Ban stole *everything* from her.

She curls her lips around of plume of flame.

Some girls spit fire, by anenko

She is much more than a mere girl--but she is still only sixteen. Sometimes, even she forgets that she is young. Tonight, she does not believe that being young is such a bad thing. Tonight, she feels alive, brilliant with possibilities.

What I Used To Be, by silverstrings

And she hates him. Hates the insufferable smirk on his face and the way he ruffles her hair or pokes fun at her. Maybe because it reminds her too much of how things used to be, back when it was alright to love Midou Ban. Back when she didn’t feel so glass-like; fragile and weak though the image she projects to the world is that of a tough-girl. She can’t really be strong all the time, so all she can do is pretend and hope nobody calls her bluff.

An Antidote for Murder, by Haru

She arrived at her apartment more quickly than she'd expected and parked her motorcycle, taking her helmet off to stare up at the doorway. She should be planning revenge, she thought blankly. She should be finding a way to overcome him, to put him behind her, to kill him for real. She should be feeling the rage and hate that sustained her these last six months.

Burial, by Rabid Lola

They dug Yamato's grave in silence, a barrier between the two former friends. Now and then, Himiko glanced at Ban out of the corners of her eyes, wanting more than anything to slam the edge of the shovel into his skull and shove him into the grave along with her brother, and then pile dirt on them both.

But he didn't deserve the honor of being buried with her brother.

Her hands trembled with the effort to control herself.

In Her Own Image, by Eliza

Himiko opens her eyes now, Clayman's breath still brushing her skin. A small movement, barely more than a twitch, mingles their breath. Clayman's hands are back on her face, her neck, her jaw. Himiko feels the desire there, to shape what is under them. But they don't. And the certainty that they won't leaves Himiko both relieved and disappointed.

It also give Himiko the courage to try some reshaping of her own. She shifts, just enough so that the mingled breath becomes mingled taste. Clayman's fingers skim over the newly arranged flesh, a soft hum making her seem pleased with the results. She guides Himiko into making other changes--a different angle to the tilt of her head, a more relaxed way of holding her mouth, closing her eyes.

and what she found there, by incandescens

The part of Himiko which hates and resents and nurtures bitterness has been distilling poison inside her for a long time. Ban has kept her in ignorance. He knows, he has always known, who she is and what she is, but he has not told her. He has left her to rot in a hell of impotent struggles and hopeless guilt. He knows. He knows. But he cares more for his own righteousness and his own long-past promises to Yamato than he does for her as a living person, as a real person.

It seems that the only choice she has is into whose hands she gives herself. Either she must be Midou Ban's victim or she must be Kagami Kyouji's pawn.

falling into heaven, by incandescens

Up there the stars circle in an endless whirl, irreconcilable with each other, shrouded by the clouds and smog of Tokyo. Himiko sits on her motorcycle by the side of the road, helmet tilted back, leaning on the handlebars, and envies them.

forests of the heart, by incandescens

Once, when she was younger, Himiko took a deep breath of the Degeneration Scent.

Yamato ducked her in the bathtub until she sobered up. He never told Ban. She was grateful for that.

Yasashisa no tane, by gisho

Juubei left, of course. He could have stayed - in fact they would have welcomed it, Kazuki feeling that it was his right and Sakura valuing some forms of propriety far below graciousness and an open heart - but he excused himself and left, and they would not force him to stay. So they were left alone and his absence hung heavy between them in the air, until Sakura laughed and suggested they have a cup of tea.

"I don't -" Kazuki paused and forced a smile. "If you please."

Sakura raised her eyebrows. "I know what you're thinking," she murmured, "and it doesn't suit you. Whatever happened to your confidence?"

"It left about when Juubei did," he answered softly, a hint of a blush showing on his cheeks. "I'm sorry. This is all a bit overwhelming, still."

"Oh, I expect you'll get used to it soon enough." Sakura leaned closer and rested a hand on his shoulder. "What's the matter? It can't be simple nervousness. You're no blushing virgin."

"Well, no, but you're Juubei's sister." He was blushing, rather more visibly now. He stood up, gracefully avoiding her hand as she reached for his wrist. "You wanted tea? We have plenty of tea."

The Promise Never Made, by gisho

She is, after all, a Kakei.

Sunset, by anenko

Kakei Sakura does not regret. Perhaps she has not chosen wisely, but the choice was hers. It was the only choice her heart allowed for, though she aches for the home which is no longer her own. This place is strange, and frightening, but she is with Kazuki, and her brother, and she is needed.

Random Factor, by a thousand winds

Kagami is everything Sakura is not, male and sleek and sly; she wonders if this might be the reason she doesn’t trust him. He was born in Mugenjou – Babylon City, she thinks, and that’s almost enough for her; in some ways she and Juubei are very alike – and she is from…outside.

Strength, by solaas

Quiet, steady and protective like all Kakei women. Her Kakei Cloth skill wasn't anywhere near as lethal as the Needle skill that he was trained in, but for pacifying and subduing an opponent it was very effective. Although she never showed agression, she knew how to make her will known. It happened so rarely, that people tended to listen when she did.

Walk in the shadow, shelter the light, by solaas

Because Kakei women have charges. Kakei women are protectors and teachers, and so Kakei women must persevere. Their lives are never entirely their own, and with this knowledge comes a deep sense of belonging that roots Sakura firmly in the present with her eyes on the future.

laughter, by incandescens

Sakura doesn't laugh. It's not ladylike. It is inappropriate for the eldest child.

Seen and Unseen, by incandescens

Her eyes track to where he stands. "Good afternoon, Kagami-san." She is as polite as ever. A very well-brought-up young woman, of old family and good blood. She could be in kimono and obi and nothing of her posture or her manner would change. Instead, she sits there in her hand-made dress and her fringed shawl, and is a lady in this garden of ruins, just as her brother is a samurai in a world which is forgetting the meaning of the word, for a master who left him behind.

Don't Look Down, by gisho

"There's no need to thank me; it's my proper place." She kissed his forehead, and thought she saw a hint of a flush in his cheeks. "You never had a mother to look after you, did you?"

"I don't think of you as a mother," he told her, sounding quite shy. "Is that how you see me? Your son?"

She had to think to come up with the right words. "No more than Kazuki and Juubei," she finally told him, and let her hand slip under his shirt, feeling the cool of his skin. His skin was always a little cooler than human skin should be. "If you need a mother, I'll be a mother. But I love you as my leige and my dearest friend."

forcible reminder, by reversedhymnal

“None of that,” she says, voice gentle and full of determination. She rises to her feet, her pink silk rustling at her feet. It’s funny, MakubeX thinks, as he watches her; she is so delicate looking, so soft and sweet and kind, with gentle healing hands. And yet, she is made of steel beneath that casing, and when she says, with dark, strong eyes, “MakubeX, come with me,” MakubeX rises, and follows.

and she closed herself up like a fan, by incandescens

"I'm sorry," he says, touching the nail marks on her back. He didn't mean to leave them, he would never, never hurt her, but he hadn't known what he was doing at that moment. It had all been whiteness, the perfect blank chaos of a crashed computer terminal. "It doesn't . . . hurt?"

"Of course not," she answers.

All I Can Do Is Hold You, by allira_dream

Sakura wields her silk with no mercy, tying it tightly around his wrists and bounding them above his head, so that he knows that his wrists will be tender.

Her Kingdom, by nekokoban

His first memory of her is one of grace: she walked two steps behind her brother with her hands clasped before her, but though her eyes were downcast, he thought, with absolute certainty, that here in the scrapyards of the Mugenjou, that he had found a queen.

non est ad astra mollis e terris via, by gisho

"You're Kakei Sakura," the boy says to her, and it isn't a question. "What are you doing here?"

It is not an easy question. She is here because there is nowhere she has to be; her brother and Kazuki-san are elsewhere and do not require her assistance (fighting, she knows they are fighting, but she does not know who or where, only that it was this boy who told them to go) and so she came here because she knows he is watching them. "Can I watch too?"

Sight, by blinkblink

"Shido-san?" Madoka, sitting on the grass under one of the many trees on her estate, turned to the man next to her who was currently stroking a purring cat.

"Hm?" He looked up but continued to pet the cat.

"I was wondering, when I met you, I never got to, I mean, I usually do, but everything was so confused, and I didn't know who you were, and then later I never really got around to asking, and– " Madoka paused, then turned away. "Never mind, Shido-san. It's nothing."

"Madoka...?"

Uptown Girl, by gisho

She let herself be led, and listened to the murmur of the crowd and the occasional appreciative whistle. One man, a fellow with a sweaty smell and faint accent, came right up them and asked, hesitantly, "Ah - are you two together?"

"Yes," Emishi said firmly, before she could get a chance to reply. "Very much so." He tugged her against him and gave her a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek. She found herself blushing, but she sent an apologetic grin in the approximate direction of the man before turning to nibble delicately on his ear. She could feel his cheeks warm up as well.

Patter, by Aquarius Galuxy

She knelt down then, slowly enough that he could stop her if he wanted.

He didn't. Instead, he returned his gaze to her, watching as she settled back on her heels and took his hand into her warm ones. "I don't want you to suffer alone, Shido-san."

Madoka referred to much more than the rain, he knew. That she, for one, would feel sad if he were to die brought on a certain tenderness in his chest he couldn't avoid.

He would protect her, even if it cost him his life.

Company, by edenbound

She raises her hand to cover a smile, and there's a blush to her cheeks, her eyes somehow happier. He breathes a silent sigh of relief that he's said the right thing: he's never known anyone like her, never felt anything like this before for anyone. All he knows are the clichés: butterflies and eyes meeting across a room and that feeling of belonging, of right -- but this is all that and yet still more.

acquainted with the night, by incandescens

"Doesn't this ever -- that is, don't I ever --"

She waited, hands folded politely in her lap.

His breathing speeded up. "You shouldn't let me stay," he said curtly. "I'm not safe."

"Well, of course you aren't," she agreed.

Her Favourite Color, by inky

"Well, look at that."

At Shido's words, Madoka turned her head in his direction. He wasn't looking at her--she could always tell when he was--but she smiled anyway. If anyone else had said those words in her hearing, they'd be all over themselves a second later, awkwardly apologizing for hurting or offending her. It pleased her that Shido did not take her blindness to mean that she was also so emotionally unstable that she couldn't handle people speaking as they normally did.

Harmonics by angrycow

"Of course you can't pay me," Shido replied with a touch of indignance. "I want to protect you."

"I'm happy about that." She smiled. "And I want to give you a place to live. Even if you weren't acting as a bodyguard for me, I would want to do it, just because I like having you here, and being with you. Not because I want you in debt to me. Isn't it the same? You protect me from bad people, and I protect you from the rain. Shall we call it a trade?"

"Heh." Shido shook his head, even though he knew she couldn't see it. "All right, if that's how you really want to think of it, we can say it's a trade." He sighed. "But... I've been wondering. Why do you like having me around? I'm not educated about music. I can't tell Bach from Beethoven. I can't even sing. People tell me I sound like a tortured water buffalo when I try."

Breathing In, by Selah

"I . . . sort of snuck out early," she confessed, blushing. "They think because I'm blind I don't know what they think about you and I just . . . didn't want to listen to them anymore. Please come with me next time?"

"I'm not meant for that sort of thing, you know that. Would it really make anything better? They've already decided I'm not good enough for you."

Metaphor, by gisho

She thinks of people in musical terms. People have their preferred keys and measures; their lives are variations on a theme, measured by the rhythym of their days.

Shelter From The Weather, by paxnirvana

"Madoka, it's pouring. What the hell are you doing out here?" he snarled, trying not to quiver at the feel of her slim arm in his grasp. He was as careful with her as he was with his bird's eggs. She was so tiny -- he always felt a giant around her. He was afraid one wrong move would crush her. But she always faced him so fearlessly, just like this, with a welcoming smile bright on her face.

Who You Are, by WhiteCat2

He lives by identifying people, and by changing himself to suit.

Madoka, however, defies all of that.

Warmth, by incandescens

Sleep over, Natsumi had said. My parents will be glad to have one of my friends over to stay. We can stay up and watch anime and talk and . . .

Sometimes Rena thinks that her soul is full of dolls, that she herself is a doll that is learning how to move to a new set of rhythms, learning a new set of phrases to answer her owner with.

Natsumi's Diary, by incandescens

Have had marvellous new idea to raise money! Kazuki-san was telling me about how it is an aesthetic and rewarding thing to admire art, and Hevn-san was explaining about how the true entrepreneur can make money anywhere, and I have worked out how to combine the two! All I have to do is rewire the security camera above the door to take photos of our regulars, and I can sell the photos for lots of extra pocket money!

The people who come here are so nice. I'd never have thought of anything like that before I started working here.

Conjunction of the Stars, by shanaqui

It was, Natsumi thought, quite typical that her attempts at retrieval and clever plans about getting things back never quite worked. She wasn't sure if that was her fault, Emishi's, or a combination of the two brought about by incompatible star signs or something like that. She thought for a moment about trying to work that out, but gave it up for lost.

lost girl, by incandescens

Everything's better when nothing is real. All the memories of her father, of the other man and what he did to her, they're just dreams now, just stories told to a child a long time ago.

Sunset Over the Tenements, by Satri

Ascending the stairs, she smells turpentine and wonders who Mother is channelling today. (She has come to love the paintings, even if she hated them once because they took Mother away from her for hours and hours at a time. She hasn't inherited any of Mother's talents, but Mother doesn't think less of her for it.)

Boundary, by gisho

Sometimes Ren would go to the very edge of the Infinite Castle and hold her hand out the door. It felt strange, like a sleeping limb, and it looked stranger. Still, she did it. It was the closest she could come to walking away.

Comments

[ugbun.livejournal.com]

Wow, I have not even read some of these. Thanks for the post, its great to see so many of the fics about the strong female getbacker characters together. And I didn't even know about this LJ before you x-posted to the GB comm. You have surely made my day. ^_^

[anenko.livejournal.com]

I'm surprised by how many stories I had bookmarked, too! I'm glad you found this post helpful.