Sugita Koto Wa, Sugita Koto Da

(The Past is the Past)

By: Hitokiri Gentatsu

Author's Note: I have to be crazy to attempt to work on several fics at once, huh. Anyway this is a Supernatural/Mystery story. Hope you will enjoy it. Please feel free to review and offer some advice if you think it is needed. Arigatou.

Summary: Eleven years ago one of Kenshin's foes placed a curse on the infamous Battousai and now the time for revenge from beyond the grave has arrived. Can Kenshin and his friends find their way out of the trap that has been set or will they lose everything they have ever held dear?

Prologue

Kyoto, 1868~Battle of Tobu Fushimi

A figure, cloaked in darkness, stood on a hill overlooking the battlefield below. His eyes were narrow, all of his concentration bent toward one of the figures below him. His concentration was so intent that the observer was surprised that the man below didn't notice he was being watched. The observer raised an eyebrow at the possibility that the red-haired swordsman was unaware of his scrutiny, then he dismissed the notion as an impossibility. Battousai surely knew he was being watched, although he may not know who watched him. It mattered very little to the observer and he turned his eyes back toward the swordsman below.

The field below him was soaked with blood and the air around it hung heavy with cannon smoke but neither of these things were of interest to the observer, who was only interested in one person on that field or, to be more specific, the man was only interested in the death of one person. He watched as Battousai cut down two opponents in less time then it took to breathe even one breath. The young swordsman looked around him for more opponents and, for a moment, smoke obscured the observer's sight of the swordsman, but he was easily spotted and not difficult for the observer to find, even at this distance. Battousai's flashing katana and blood red hair were like a beacon among the grayness of the field on which he fought.

"Battousai..." the observer muttered, the word dripping with venom and rage as he watched the swordsman take down five more enemies before disappearing in the smoke again.

After a few moments, Battousai appeared again, seemingly from out of nowhere. This time he was completely surrounded and cut off from the other Ishinshishi by the Shinsengumi, lead by Saito Hajime. The dark observer smiled in satisfaction, believing this to be the end of the notorious hitokiri. Smoke and haze obscured his sight again but that didn't matter. Battousai was surely just moments away from death and that thought filled him with an almost obscene joy.

"Soon....soon...." he thought as he rubbed his thin hands together.

He could hear the sound of metal striking metal and the moans of the dying as they fell. The smoke cleared for a moment and he saw Battousai in life or death combat with Saito. The smoke covered them again, just as the few remaining members of the Shinsengumi first and second squads charged Battousai from all directions.

Quite suddenly, the battlefield grew still, seeming to be silently waiting for the outcome of the battle between the two strongest among both sides. A few moments later a ragged cheer rose up from the surviving Ishin. The observer grimaced at the Shogunate's loss but believed that the cost was well worth the price if the Battousai was killed as well. Battousai had to die, had to be made to suffer for all he had done and for all the lives he'd destroyed.

The smoke cleared from the combatants at last and the observer waited with breathless anticipation. The haze lifted completely and a cry of rage erupted from the observer, though none would or could hear it.

"Not possible...this isn't possible!" The man looked down at the field again.

Battousai stood amidst the bodies of those he had just slain, his unsheathed katana still dripping with their blood for a moment before he flicked that blood from it and resheathed it. The observer watched as Battousai seemed to regard the blade for a moment before plunging it into the ground in front of him. The sunset stained everything crimson, as Battousai turned his back on the battlefield and walked away, never once looking back.

This action surprised and confused the observer, who had spent the entire war watching Battousai. He watched the hitokiri for any sign of trickery but even when some of his own comrades called to him, asking him for aid in fighting one of the few remaining pockets of resistance, he waved them off. All to soon he vanished from the observer's sight, leaving the dark, cloaked figure trembling with rage. He stood there for several minutes, his rage smoldering and building inside him, then an evil smile lighted his features.

"No, this will be an even sweeter revenge." He wrapped his cloak around him and appeared just out of sight of the retreating figure of Battousai. He stretched out a thin hand toward the former hitokiri. "You shall suffer for your crimes, Battousai. You will know no peace waking or sleeping and the hitokiri's madness shall ever be within you. Know that you will pay for every life you have taken here."

The observer disappeared then, leaving no trace of his existence and he waited for the day he would exact his revenge on the man called Himura Kenshin.

*

Tokyo, Meiji Year 12~March 1879

Blood was everywhere. I could smell it heavy in the air around me. Its smell held me captive and still had the power to stir the hitokiri with me into wakefulness, even after 11 years of peace. I was frozen to the spot, unable to move as its metallic odor flooded my senses once again, overpowering in its intensity. I tried to open my eyes, seeking to end the nightmares that had plagued me since I renounced the hitokiri's sword, but once again they refused to open. I was trapped, held prisoner by my dark and bloody past, a past that haunts every moment I live.

I could feel blood falling all around me, staining my hands and running down my face into my eyes. My clothing was heavy with its sticky dampness and my feet were leaving a bloody trail behind me. Then the screaming began again. I tried to cover my ears, to block out the cries of anguish that surround me but my hands again remained limp at my side and I am forced to hear the cries of those I have killed.

"Please spare my life..."

"I have done nothing..."

"Don't kill me...I don't want to die..."

"Mercy...please have mercy..."

"Have you no heart, demon...have you no pity..."

Then a cold voice cuts through the other ones, "I have come to bring you Tenchuu!"

I shivered at the cold voice that echoed back at me from the past and the screams rose into a deafening caliophy of sound and more blood flowed from my sword, pooling at my feet and staining my gray hakama crimson. The blood flowed around me, like some demented parody of a river, attempting to pull me under. I felt myself drowning in it, unable to hold out against the push of its current on my mind and actions. The stench of death became unbearable and I found myself retching onto the ground as bile rose to the back of my throat, cutting off my ability to speak or even scream.

Then I jerked awake, my breathing rapid and a cold sweat filming my brow. I lifted a hand to wipe the cold dampness from my face while the other hand automatically sought the smooth wooden saya of my sakabatou. I discovered that my hands would not move. My eyes snapped open and encountered nothing but darkness. My eyes widened for a moment to find it was not really darkness so much as an inky grayness that surrounded me. I tried again to move my arms and found them to be chained to the wall behind me.

Then I remembered-remembered everything that had happened in the last few days with a sudden clarity that made my nightmares pale by comparison. I knew what this place was and why I was here. Tears fell from my eyes, stinging them and my already chapped cheeks as they trailed down them. Grief such as I had never known before moved through me, paralyzing me in much the same way the smell of blood in my dream had. Only this was no dream that I would eventually wake from. This was a nightmare, a living nightmare worse than any dream.

I longed to cry out, to give vent to the grief and pain I was in but the time for that was long past. If I was to survive this trap, my grief must remain silent and I must push it aside in order to better concentrate on the task at hand. I would be of no help to the others if I died here. I had to keep hold of my will to live. It was the only thing I had left in a world gone suddenly mad.

I strained my eyes to see if anything about the cell had changed but nothing had. I hung limply in my chains, a feeling of hopelessness assailing me once more. I blinked back tears from my eyes but they continued to fall despite my efforts.

"I...I....killed..."

The whispered words I spoke echoed in my head and I clamped down in the cry that was struggling to free itself from my throat as guilt and grief washed over me in a cold wave. I had broken my oath, that vow I had once made to Tomoe.

I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, shaking my head from side to side in a vain attempt to escape the memories of the last few days but they would not let me be. Everything that happened flashed before me in a brief moment. The smiling faces of my friends turned into the angry faces of the mob that hunted me down and then accused me of a crime so cruel and bloody that I could hardly believe it was my hand that caused it.

"My friends...forgive me..." I closed my eyes against the memory of their blood-covered bodies, trying to force the memory from my mind but it remained.

They were dead because of me. New tears sprang into my eyes, as I heard the cell door open and a stern voice say 'You have five minutes with the prisoner, no more."

That's all I was now, a prisoner, a common criminal. I felt my heart catch in my throat. I was once a man who had saved Japan from the chaos Shishio Makoto planned to create but now I had lost everything, including my name and my honor. All I had left was my life and if there was any way to save it, I must try to do so. I had promised myself long ago to live for those who had died and I could no more let go of promise then I could forget my past.

Two sets of footsteps came toward me and I looked up at the two who had come all this way at my request. I winced away from the light they held, my eyes having lost all tolerance for bright light.

"Himura?" Misao's normally bright voice was subdued as she moved closer to me, questions in her eyes.

I tried to pull myself together, desperately needing their help to extract myself from this trap some enemy of mine had set. Aoshi set the lantern on the floor and came closer, is face an expressionless mask.

"You set for us, Battousai...?" His voice carried no hint of emotion.

I nodded slowly, not wanting the room to start spinning suddenly as it had in the past. I knew my body was fevered and that some of my wounds had become infected, but nothing was or would be done about that. Megumi had tried to get the police to allow her to treat me but I was just a prisoner now...a murderer awaiting execution and had no need for a doctor's care. Whether I lived or died because of the infection was a matter that the next few days would tell. What was important now was to find out which of my enemies was responsible for my downfall.

"Aoshi....Miss Misao....I called you here because I need your help."

Aoshi nodded and Misao's eyes shimmered with tears.

"We will do what we can, Battousai." Aoshi's voice was soft, giving away nothing. "What is it you require?"

Misao's eyes locked with mine for a moment and words passed between us without benefit of our voices.

"I need you to find out who is behind this...who it was that orchestrated this trap I have fallen into. Bring him or them back here quickly."

"We'll find them for you, Himura." Misao's voice was full of determination.

I tried to smile. "You need to find them as quickly as possible."

Aoshi nodded in understanding, clearly not wanting to alarm Misao with thoughts of what would happen to me if they could not find the one(s) responsible for this tragedy.

"Your time's up, Shinomori," said a cold voice from beyond the cell door.

"Saito Hajime." Aoshi hissed the name as Misao turned to glare at the officer.

Misao wrapped her arms around me and I could feel her tears staining my gi.

"Don't worry, Himura. We will find whoever did this to you." She looked up at me, determination in her eyes. "I won't let you die. Not here. Not like this."

She turned from me and walked with Aoshi toward the door that had just swung open. She turned to look at me one last time and flashed me grin and a victory sign before disappearing through the door.

"I hope for your sake that they are able to find something of use, Battousai." Saito said as he lit a cigarette. "Now to continue our...conversation."

I turned my eyes on him and prayed that the others would somehow find something of use, something more tangible then the vague answers I would be able to give Saito. What I was about to tell him would not satisfy the former Shinsengumi captain, of that I was certain. All I could do was hope he would give my friends time to gather the needed evidence for, if he would not, I knew my life was indeed forfeit.