Riddle-Master ~ Konnichiwa!!! Okay peoples, we are trying something new . . . Chibi Okami and XxSilentWolfxX are trying to write a fic together . . .(I put that in third person to reduce confusion . . . I am Chibi Okami incase any of you cared, XxSilentWolfxX might write the next author's note, but it is my turn now!!! *XxSilentWolfxX whines about how Chibi Okami stole the comp*) Now, anyways, this shall be interesting because me and her are two completely different writers, see Xx is a romance and drama writer and a grammar freak, while romance makes me, Chibi, sick. I write all angst and action and am a detail freak that despises grammar. So this will undoubtedly have all elements, and lots of twists and turns, so sit back and read!!! Oh, I forgot, you need to enjoy and review, and if you no enjoy, review anyways and tell us why!!! So until the author's note at the bottom, Ja Ne!

Disclaimer ~ Roses are Red, Violets are Blue, We don't own Kenshin , But neither do you!!!

Shattered

Chapter One

A figure walked down the alleyway, no light shed upon the being except the far off light that illuminated the streets behind him, though it had slowly shrunk and the shadows of the alley and buildings on each side enveloped it into a small existence. The wind could not make it through the small area of the alley which stretched only to people wide, causing the air to be stale and old. When he looked up the night sky moon, nor the twinkling stars that would have been looking over the world from above were visible, the alleyways covered it up, but even outside the alleyways neither were visible for the city lights shone too brightly and blocked the small wonder that everyone took for granted. It was as though the beings that inhabited the city were afraid of such a wonder, or left it behind like an ungrateful son leaving his mother. The brick sides of the apartment buildings on each side of him were engulfed in graffiti. Big bold letters danced around him, as though they were trying to intimidate him, though nothing could intimidate the man. This was his mission and he planned on completing it, despite the shouts of the graffiti telling him to turn around.

The man walked through the alley his worn combat boots stomping soundlessly against the hard ground and his long midnight black trench coat blowing behind him because of the fast pace by which he walked. His baggy black pants sagged nearly to the ground, though they did not touch, he had to sew them higher himself, for if they dragged they would become a hazard because of the constant dangers of tripping and making excess sounds. His dingy white shirt was worn and tattered; on the very front was a crimson red cross that could have been mistaken as a hand-painted blood-smeared cross. His red mane was tied back into a high pony-tail which trailed the man and his piercing eyes scanned every nock and cranny of the alleyway as to not miss any vital information this alley may hold. Though the most mark able detail the man held may have very well been the cross shaped scar on his cheek.

Suddenly his brisk pace came to a halt and a silent curse emitted from his mouth. Footsteps sounded behind him and he mentally hit himself for being so careless, he should have been more cautious. Instinctively he slid his hand into his trench coat where the gloved hand met with a metallic surface. His fingers ran over the cool metal with full knowledge of the entire surface he was touching. His forefinger slid forward and reached into a cranny where he felt a familiar spot, the trigger of a gun.

"D-don't move!" A voice behind him called out. He could hear the rattling of a gun in the person's hands. "I will sh-shoot! I will!"

The man sighed, this was going to be much harder than it had to be, a man held a shaky grip on the gun, much more dangerous than someone who knew what they were doing. A man in fear with a shaking gun was much more unpredictable and dangerous.

"H-hands in the air. Do it! Now!" The voice demanded. The man was forced to obey. He was the one with a gun to his back, there was nothing else he could do.

"Who told you?" The man's voice was calm and even. There was no sound of fear or doubt, he wasn't worried. If he died he's be relieved of pain, though he'd much rather live long enough to make up for his sins.

"Why the hell should I tell you? The Battousai?" The voice spit the word from his mouth as though it left an awful after taste in his mouth.

The man shrugged. "You have no reason at all, and you are right, I don't deserve an explanation." The Battousai said truthfully before his voice turned harsh and cut across the night air with a harsh command. "Shoot me."

"What? Are you insane?" The man's voice showed surprise, causing the Battousai to sigh.

"Did you not hear me? Shoot me. That's why you have a gun in your hand, is it not? Put me out of my misery, it is cruel to make me wait like this without even knowing when I will be shot in the back. Not even I do that to my victims. So shoot me already." He knew this was unnerving the man, he hadn't actually thought about shooting someone, the man most likely never wanted to shoot him, he only held the gun out in fear.

"I-I can't . . ." The man's voice came out in a squeak, though he did not lower the gun.

"Oh, so you see it is much easier to have others kill for you than to do it yourself. Big difference there, but it has the same result." The Battousai commented to the man. "You can't kill me, but others can, so why not send them here tonight instead of you, you did, after all, know this was coming."

"Y-you killed them before."

"Oh, yes, I remember now. You sent them to me before."

"SHUT UP! You are the assassin, not me!"

"Yes, we know that, though you have killed many through others, so we are alike, aren't we?"

"I am nothing like you!" the voice called out.

"Oh, how so? You didn't sound very confident."

CLANG

The gun was dropped to the ground. "I am not." The man then took his chance, he flung himself around and whipped the gun out from inside of his trench coat. He faced the man who looked at the ground.

"I am sorry." The Battousai muttered before he pulled back the trigger.

---*---

pit pat pit

The rain poured down from the sky in a furry. The red-haired man was quickly soaked from head to toe and his distant eyes focused on the ground. It had started to rain right after his mission had been completed. He had no hood on his coat or hat to keep the rain off of his face. His fiery bangs matted to his face because of the rain hailing from the sky and it poured down his face, creating a look much like that of tears. His feet dragged along the ground as he walked, he may have been walking in reality, though his mind was far off in a distant land.

Every time, every God-forsaken time. Why did the Gods hate him so much? Why were they eternally punishing him? He had never wanted to kill, never, yet that was what he did for a living. He was the famous assassin, the Battousai. He hated the way he talked to people as he had before, he absolutely despised it. Though that was what he had been trained to do since he was a small child. They figured he's loose his conscience; that it would stop bothering him after so many kills, but it didn't. It scarred him even more. With each kill the more he forgot who he was, and in a way, that was a relief, though it was also another pain to add to his collection. If he ever lost himself completely then the years of killing would have brought onto him the same thing that the men who had trained him had been counting on. A loss of conscience and a loss of guilt. Though he refused to give that up, that was the only thing that kept him human. He may be loosing the fight, but he wouldn't give in.

He sighed and looked up. A glowing sign illuminated the cloudy sky and written in bright letters was the word 'Quake'. He then entered the doors to the smoky bar. It was nothing special, just a place for the regulars to go. There were about five tables on the right side of the entrance with three or four chairs at each. The wallpaper was a dingy blue and peeling, and the ceiling was turning yellow from all the cigarette smoke over the years. There was a stage at the far end of the room with over three inches of dust on it, for it had not been used since the bar had first started out and the neighborhood was still a nice place to live with little crime. Now it was filled with low-class people struggling to get by and was a key place for drug-deals to take place.

He looked over to the bar, only to notice a new waitress hovering around the bar-tender. He knew she was a new waitress because he was a regular at this bar and had taken the time to figure out who all the workers were, he didn't want to take the chance that one of them could be a spy or someone after him. He had looked up all their backgrounds and checked to make sure that there wasn't anything suspicious about them. He made a mental note to do a check on her when he got home, until then he would have to be careful. It's not that he was afraid of her; it was that he didn't trust. He had learned not to trust anybody; people aren't always what they seemed.

She was talking to the bar-tender about something and she kept glancing at him, making him realize how sloppy he looked. He probably appeared as though his wife or land-lord had just kicked him out. He had walked into the bar sopping wet, one would have thought that others besides the one girl would have noticed him, and they did, they just didn't care. Everyone who was there at this time were regulars, they knew how he acted and none of them dared to ask him why he looked as he did. They all knew just to ignore him when he didn't want to talk to them and when he did that they should listen, but until then, they wouldn't bother with him.

He shook himself out of his thoughts and once again turned them to the new waiter. She was a very attractive woman and he was a bit embarrassed by his appearance. She smiled kindly towards him and he walked over, nodded to show that he knew about her presence. He started walking in her direction as though to meet her halfway. She thought he was going to start a conversation with her but he just walked past her to the bartender.

"Yo, Kenshin!" The bartender called out. "What's up buddy?"

"Oh you know, SSDD." The Battousai answered.

"Yea, I know what you mean, same stuff, different day." The bartender agreed. "Hard day at the office?"

Kenshin nodded in response.

The new waitress looked over at the bartender and mouthed 'the office' with a questioning expression on her face.

"Yea, the office. Kenshin works at. . . actually, I don't know where he works." Sanosuke turned his head back to the sopping wet man at the bar. "Where do you work?"

Scrambling in his mind to dodge the question, Kenshin turned to the waitress. "What's your name?"

The waitress thought for a minute. She didn't trust this guy yet, but the bartender knew her name so if she made up one, he would correct her or the red-haired man would know she was lying. She mumbled. "M-my name's K-Kaoru." She cleared her throat and tried again. This time she spoke loud enough for the whole bar to hear. "My name's Kaoru."

The red-haired man in the trench-coat was a gentleman, even if he was an assassin, and took the woman's hand. "Glad to meet you."

"Same." She replied.

He released her hand and turned to the bartender once again. "What'll it be?" The bartender asked. "The usual?"

The man with the scar on his check nodded and the bartender poured him a glass of sake. He gulped it down and asked for another. The bartender poured with a smile on his face and Kaoru walked off to assist a customer. He had been trying to get her attention for several minutes now and she had noticed before, but just didn't move because there was something mysterious about this man, and it interested her.

Kenshin asked the bartender for yet another glass of sake and the bartender poured it. Kenshin went over to his usual table and sat down. It was the one closest to the stage and farthest away from the door. He sat there all alone. He drank up his glass right as the new waitress came by.

"Would you like another?" She asked politely.

"Yea, thanks." He answered. After about six rounds, the bartender came over to Kenshin, he knew Kenshin and that he could hold his sake very well without getting drunk, but he didn't usually drink as much as he had tonight.

"Is anything wrong?" The bartender asked. Kenshin didn't say anything he just sighed. He then got up and walked to the door where he paused. He looked behind him and walked out the door. He hadn't worried about paying first because the bartender thought he had a business job and he didn't get paid until the end of the week. Every Friday evening, he paid the bartender for all his drinks over the week.

---*---

Kenshin walked down the street quietly and calmly. The air was becoming colder and the fog was limiting his vision. Though the fog covered the streets, from the lack of sounds he knew the street was empty. The fog's small droplets of water stuck to him, making him wet and a shiver to run down his back. The buildings on the other side of the streets had their lights off, after all, who would be up at 3 AM? Not counting drunks, idiots, and, of course, assassins every now and then.

Where he stayed was only a little ways away and he would be there soon. His work had been continued after the bar and he had not enjoyed a single moment of it. He now just wanted to go home and go to bed. He had no reason to stay out anymore, his work was done, that is, until tomorrow.

End of Chapter One

Riddle-Master ~ YAY! I get to do the author's notes this time! This is XxSilentWolfxX, the other writer besides Chibi Okami, who wrote the last author's note. As you may have been able to tell, when Kenshin walked into the bar and the dialog was all congrats to me!*Chibi Okami in background muttering something about how dialog sucks and should die* *Chibi Okami now gets smacked by XxSilentWolfxX* Chibi Okami wrote the fight scene (I don't like fight scenes) and was the one behind all the lovely scenery paragraphs. Yes, I did say paragraphs, she tends to go overboard with the details. *Chibi Okami waving flags and shouting out to the world the good wonders of detail* Oh shut up! She really truly talks too much. Okey dokey then, until the next chapter, TATA! Oh! Don't forget to review!

This is Chibi Okami and I learned something this chapter! XxSilentWolfxX is a walking, talking, thesaurus! You decide if that is good or not . . .

XxSilentWolfxX~ But out of my author note! You had one at the top! Oh, and I discovered I hate this laptop we are using and it's possessed mouse!