Rurouni Kenshin

In Tribute to Seta Soujirou

Rain

The little boy stood before the scene of carnage.

There was blood, lots of them. In his hand, a single silver blade that shone cold against the wind shared a solitary drop of red as it glided down the sharp edge…and then fell, submersed into the crimson puddles forever. Fingers gripped the Samurai sword handle, its knuckles a frail white color against the seemingly grayish atmosphere that seemed to settle around.

An eerie silence hung.

Then without warning, the sword clashed to the floor, loosened from the young boy's grip. A sickening thud that only reverberated across the dark alley lit with dim lamps. The image haunted him - his foster family members lying slain before his very eyes.

He had been the murderer.

No! I did not mean to kill them! A hand shot up to his neck where it was beginning to swell. They had tried to kill me!!! They were the ones who wanted to strangle me to death! The hand moved down, his skin now revealed by the tattered material of his clothing. The small length of his palm covered horizontal crimson lines etched on his skin as it continued the journey downwards. Years of being abused, and he had served them as a slave in repayment.

It was not my fault.

Seta Soujirou lost the strength in his legs, and he fell upon the ground, knees landing hard. In the next instant, he was kneeling before the slain family that he had seen through the years. It no longer mattered that those old scars all over his body had refused to heal despite the aid of time. It no longer mattered that he hated this foster family for the treatment they had given him.

He had killed them.

Why? Soujirou lifted his palms and his remorseful eyes implored them. I killed someone. Some people. I am a murderer. It did not change the fact that he had redressed his grievance. Yet still, why now? Why choose to regret only now when he had acted? His fingers trembled violently, and in the next moment, his limp form was bent over, shuddering in remorse, confusion and utter, utter fear.

What was going to happen after this?

Soujirou picked up the sword, hastened his pace backwards and turned around.

He then ran.

What now? To where? Where else can I go? What can I do?

He must get out of here! He must, he must! His brain screamed into his veins, throbbing his mind painfully. Everything rushed into him - the frightening memories of it all that haunted and stalked at his every step. Was this a dream? Merely a deceptive lie he had imagined? Why else was this like a sudden notion of madness to him?

Somebody save me!!!

He had nowhere else to go.

Please!

He had remembered those words that echoed into his mind : The strong survive, and the weak die. Shishio Makoto. Soujirou had helped, now where was he? He had killed for the sake of living himself. Was this a means of being selfish?

Finally unable to bear the maelstrom of emotions in him any longer, Soujirou stepped onto the rock overlooking a small lake. Throwing his head skywards, he yelled. His arms came up like the hawk on the verge of taking flight. Majestic, powerful, yet painful.

"WHY!?"

It was a single word, but the effect of it sent echoes bouncing across the mountains beyond. Soujirou did not bother. Who would hear? Who would even care? Nobody saved him when he was alone as a slave. Nobody. What was this entire lie about protecting the weak? He waited, didn't he? And what happened in the end?

A stupid, stupid lie.

The sword in his hands pierced into the rock forcefully, shedding its bloody liquid splattering upon the brownish rock. There was no point in cleansing that blood on the shiny blade. They would still continue to haunt him, taunt him. Washing the blood away would not wash away his sins.

Sin?

Killing was a sin? Murdering was a sin?

Soujirou found difficulty in breathing. Reality sunk deep in his resolve, clobbering against his chest like hard hammers. Reality was harsh, and he was suffocating in a pathetic attempt to swallow and absorb all that had taken place. His dark hair matted on to his forehead in wisps and beads of perspiration hung. His lungs constricted like vines against his soul.

Shishio-san, where are you?

The name comforted him, and Soujirou knew Shishio would never leave him. Shishio would take him in hand when he found his way back to the older man. After all, Soujirou had helped him with the bandages.

With that, the little boy held onto this hope that all was not lost.

Smile then, Soujirou.

Smile? Why? Was there a reason to? Yes, he smiled like a maniac around his family members when he realized they would get sick of it and eventually quit abusing him. He had smiled at Shishio like a lunatic and Shishio had spared him in the end.

Yes, smiling was good. Smiling would ease all his pains. Smiling would perhaps create an artificial happiness in his soul even if it was not there. Smiling, despite being a deception, could keep the pretense that he was strong.

Smile, Soujirou, smile.

The corner of his lips tilted.

And on cue, rain poured.

The smile threatened to disappear, but he held it on.

Smile, even if this hurts. Smile, even if life is cruel. Smile, Soujirou! Smile! Everytime you smile, things would eventually turn out better! Smile! Smile! Smile!

And tears began to form in his eyes as he did so, his smile uplifting the sides so much that it hurt his jaws. Soujirou wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all. Why the tears now? Why?

Keep smiling, Soujirou! Shishio will come for you!

A tear fell. And another.

Don't despair! Things will turn out okay!

But why did it hurt so then?

Smile!

And he cried even harder in the rain. The presence of the forceful liquids splashing on his face no longer mattered anymore. In fact, nothing mattered anymore.

I am smiling!

The more he forced himself to keep the smile unfaltering on his face, the more he found out that the tears could not stop trickling down his face. He was openly crying now. A droplet hung upon his eyelashes, reflecting the infinite sorrow and remorse in his eyes.

Rain poured, harder.

He no longer could make out if the streams on his face were merely the weather or his tears.

The sword at his feet laid, unforgotten.

Soujirou tilt his head skywards, his arms once more came up to maintain the posture of a hawk upon taking flight.

I am smiling, but why am I crying, too?

He could not apprehend his emotions. They felt raw, bristling against his flesh like painful vibes. Yes, for once, he was alone. For once, he stood like a solitary person in the world, neglected by others. At least, no one would be around to laugh at his weakness.

Then would you give me one last chance to cry?

His eyes met the Heavens, and the rainwater in his eyes fell with his own tears. Making a silent promise this would be the very last time he would cry again, he closed his eyes and allowed the rainwater to drown his memories and smother everything else into mere air.

Wash this pain away…

Owari

It might be slightly out of the series during this part, but I didn't watch Rurouni Kenshin at all and I wrote this fic solely based on Internet searching. So forgive me if it is not based on the same episode, as I did not follow too closely.

It's a little deep and dark, and I wrote this fic feeling really down.

I wanted to portray the pain of smiling behind Soujirou. And also in tribute to the boy who was infamous for smiling in the rain in the series.

mysterio000