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Dreams in the Dark
Part 1 : Embracing the Sword (Chapter 1)
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~~~ Summer, 1857 - in the outskirts of Edo ~~~
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Darkness.
It was all around him, smothering him.
The rhythmic splashing of raindrops echoed in his ears
endlessly and the cold assaulted his wracked body without mercy. His
face was buried in his arms, his body already numb and wet. A gust of
cold air blew past and he shivered uncontrollably. His feet were blue
from the cold as he had lost his shoes when he ran and ran from his
home.
He walked without aimlessly, his mind only knowing to escape
from the unknown. Slowly, he walked forward again, only to collapse
in exhaustion as his feet could carry him no longer.
Ten days... It had been ten days.
Suddenly, there was a loud noise above him. He looked up, only
to see bits of the clay tiles on the roof being blown away by the
savage wind, leaving the rotting structural wooden beams behind. The
boy ignored the rain, letting it wet his body.
He had been through conditions worse than that. There were days
when he would eat dirt and grass just to fill his empty stomach.
There were also nights when he would lay his head on a boulder to
rest his aching body.
Tears came.
Loud sobs escaped from his throat as his fragile self lay
huddled in a corner, the slick wet wood supporting his entire body
weight. Lightning bolts flashed across the skies. They were beautiful
indeed, but the power and strength they showed were more than
frightening. To the little boy, they were nothing compared to the
terror and horror which he had witnessed. The temple in which he had
sought protection from the merciless weather was slowly crumbling
away under the bad weather but the boy stayed rooted there, his legs
too tired to carry him any further.
With a careless wipe by the sleeve of his ragged gi top, the
little boy gathered himself and stood up. Puddles of muddy water
dominated the barren earth and the soft ground sank dangerously
beneath his feet. He steadied his balance by holding onto a broken
wooden pillar with his trembling hands but slowly let go. The ancient
statue of Buddha in the abandoned temple loomed behind those doors
but the little boy stood outside the old building, seeking only
minimal protection from the rain before the edge of the roof was
blown away. His blood stained clothes burned his body and he stared
at them unblinkingly. Painfully, he tried to croak out a word, but
his throat was parched. He tried again; this time, he barely
succeeded.
"Haha-ue..." mumbled the little boy as a tear slipped past his
left eye. He looked at the front panel of his tiny cotton yukata and
saw it stained red in color.
"Chichi-ue..."
All he could remember was the terrified screams of his mother
when the attackers raided the outer branch of the Matsudaira
household. *Chichi-ue was screaming something... Something about the
house of Watanabe...* whispered the boy silently but he never got to
listen to the entire word for all he had heard after that were
screams and shrieks. Those memories would never fade no matter how
hard he wished they would.
"Watanabe! Watanabe! Watanabe!" screamed a voice in his mind
and young boy snarled fiercely at the word. Those eyes... That man
was holding his baby sister and threw her high in the air, aiming the
sharp katana beneath her. He had to bite his fingers to avoid
screaming when the crying bundle slid down from the tip of the sword
to its hilt, her blood staining the blade a bright crimson hue.
There was no more crying, only the booming sound of the
ninja's sadistic laughter.
He would remember that insane look in that man's eyes forever.
That rabid light in his eyes were enough to made him shiver in fear.
The little boy kneeled down on the ground, ignoring the
dampness that attacked his fragile body. *Haha-ue...* wept the boy.
He could never retell the horror and grief which overwhelmed him when
he climbed out from the covered well where he sought refuge during
the onslaught. It was like a sword being driven through his heart
when he saw a familiar figure lying on the floor in a puddle of
blood.
He had seen enough of these things.
"Haha-ue!" he remembered screaming. He stared at a long gash
along her arm and shrank back in fear. He had accidentally cut
himself once before and it hurt. Now, a gash about a foot long
adorned his mother's arm and fresh blood was still gushing from it.
Tears brimmed beneath his eyelids just to see how much pain and
suffering his mother was forced to endure... Suddenly, the woman's
eyes fluttered open and gazed at him. The boy edged closer, ignoring
the blood which had soaked his knees and gi top.
"Haha-ue?"
"Come here, Shi-chan... Come..." the woman whispered in a
barely audible voice. Tears brimmed from her eyes as she struggled to
sit up. The boy nodded and tried to help her up, calling her 'haha-
ue' in fearful whimpers. The woman gritted her teeth and reached
behind with her uninjured arm to tear off her obi. With blood
dripping from her chin, she drew her finger across the puddle of her
own blood and began writing on the cloth with soft agonized moans. He
looked fearfully on, his innocent eyes not understanding a single
word before his mother finished scribbling on her cloth belt and
stuffed it into the inside of his gi top with a shaking hand. Bearing
the pain, the woman reached into her kimono and removed a copper coin
strung on a red string. Weakly, she pulled the boy closer and placed
the string around her son's neck. Slowly, she slumped down again,
tears rolling down her pale cheeks.
His mother's last words still echoed in his mind when he tried
to lift her up again: "G... Go... Go and find someone named
Tsunashige Makimachi of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu clan... He, as the
Okashira, will help you... Let him read this letter and show him the
coin, and he will help you... Shi-chan, take good care of yourself
and seek vengeance for us when you are strong! Remember, seek
vengeance..."
The boy shook his head violently and cried, incoherent sounds
erupting from his very core. He couldn't understand what was going
on! He was frightened and scared; those gory scenes flashed past in
his mind continuously. Fresh blood was trickling from the edge of her
mouth as she coughed up mouthfuls of the sticky red liquid when she
spoke to him for the last time. One sleeve of her purple kimono was
torn off and long gashes adorned her upper torso. When she hugged
him, he could heard her anguished breathing.
When she died, her eyes remained open. The light in them... He
would remember his mother's final expression.
He shook her, called for her, but she remained motionless on
the tiled floor. He hugged her tightly, refusing to let her go, but
her body was getting colder and colder with every second that passed.
It finally dawned on him that haha-ue would never kiss him,
hold him or even talk to him ever again.
It was this far that his short legs could carry him and he
collapsed weakly face-first onto the soft ground.
When was the last time it rained?
The boy looked up at the darkened sky with dimmed blue eyes,
relishing the rivulets of rain that ran down his cheeks, mingling
with his tears.
He knew the answer.
It was just two days ago that it had last rained, but it had
rained blood.
Giving a shrill cry, the boy crawled towards the entrance of
the old temple and heaved himself onto the doorsteps. He looked
directly at the serene statue of Buddha and softly whispered, "Lord
Buddha, where is haha-ue? Lord Buddha, where is haha-ue? Let me be
with haha-ue!"
Slowly, his vision blurred and the objects around him seemed to
have double outlines. A splitting headache set in and even that speck
of light in his unconscious mind was effectively shut out by the
reigning darkness.
Before long, a small body lay motionless on the doorsteps of
the abandoned temple, exposed to the rain.
When was the last time it rained again?
In fact, the rain would never stop. Instead, it would continue
throughout his entire life, overshadowing the memories of his
childhood.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Steady footsteps drew nearer and nearer.
A figure towered above a slumped little body. The rain was
slowing down and it was just a soft drizzle over the barren plains.
The storm had just calmed down and droplets of water from the
wide-rimmed straw hat dripped onto the ground. The man tore off the
black veil which covered the lower part of his face and tucked it
away in his uniform.
"Little boy..." called the man, his dark mustache and goatee
bristling at the sight of the dried blood on the boy's clothes.
Gently, he bent down to roll the boy face up and gasped a little.
"Kami-sama... Ichiro-chan?" half-shouted the man, shaking the
boy's arm violently. *No... It can't be... Ichiro-chan is long
dead...* whispered a voice skeptically in his mind. The man shook
free of the voice and took a closer look at the boy. Gashes and
bruises adorned his chest and his eyes were squeezed shut. His face
was ghastly pale and his dark hair was plastered on his forehead. His
fingers reached down to feel the boy's limbs and he moved his hand
away reflexively. "Kami-sama... Is he dead?" muttered the man and
began rubbing his hands against the boy's cold body.
"Poor thing..." whispered the man and kneeled down on one knee,
a hand stroking the boy's silky hair. Suddenly, something within the
boy's clothes caught his eye.
He narrowed his eyes. No, it wasn't mere dirt or debris, but
it was a piece of fabric and there was some scrawling showing
through.
With tentative fingers, the man reached down to retrieve the
cloth from the boy's chest. Flipping it open, his eyes widened.
*No... This can't be... Ieshige Matsudaira can't be dead!* thought
the man frantically, sitting on the ground weakly. *No, it can't be.
If there was a massacre in the house of Matsudaira, then why was
every thing still in proper order when I was there a mere two days
ago? But then, there was no-one to be found on the premise? Were they
all murdered?* He heaved a depressed sigh and closed his eyes for a
moment, suddenly too tired to think anymore. Blinking them open, he
quickly scanned through the rest of the letter. *Too late...
Okashira, it's too late... * mumbled the man and gritted his teeth,
his eyes staring at the boy.
"I failed the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu... I failed my lord..."
Stealing another glance at the unconscious boy, the man folded
the letter and proceeded to slip it into the inner folds of his ninja
uniform. *Better not to let him know about this... He's too young.
Lucky thing, he is still very much alive.* Tearing off his cloak, he
wrapped it around the fragile body and proceeded to carry the boy
inside the temple. He looked around, his bright eyes searching for
some twigs within the old temple.
Very soon, a warm bonfire was crackling merrily in the midst of
the ruined building. The man stroked the boy gently on his head and
took off his outer coat, covering the shivering boy with it.
"Matsudaira Aoshi, ne? Don't worry, my boy, you will live
well... I'll get you to Okashira," whispered the man and flashed a
small grin.
The man smiled a little and leaned back, drifting into the Land
of Dreams.
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"Haha-ue!" A shrill scream pierced through the silent night and
a figure sat up straight, haggard breathing filling the air. Beads
of sweat rolled down his forehead and his cotton yukata was damp from
a mixture of perspiration and rainwater. There was a tingling
sensation in his limbs and he shivered uncontrollably in the
coldness. He stared at the cloak which kept him warm and wondered,
*Who gave me the cloak? Was that you, haha-ue?* A few embers burning
brightly in the night caught his attention and he looked at them
curiously. *Haha-ue? Did you see me shivering in the cold and you
gave me those embers to warm me?*
They gave out warmth and comfort, almost as if he was lying in
his mother's arms with the silky fabric of her kimono rustling in his
ears.
*Haha-ue? Is that you? I miss you... Where are you?*
Suddenly, there was a nip by his toe, followed by a flurry of
movements, and a long and scaly object flicking against his ankle.
Slowly, he looked at his foot and a pair of beady eyes stared back at
him.
"Haha-ue!!!" screamed the boy and cried out loud. "Nezumi,
haha-ue!!!" shrieked the boy and tried to crawl away. The rat gave a
few squeaks only to prompt more fear in the boy. The rat stood up on
its hind legs, its whiskers twitching and sharp canines appeared in
its mouth. Aoshi took a deep breath and began edging away inch by
inch, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. The rat squeaked
again and scurried off, leaving the poor boy alone.
Aoshi heaved a soft sigh of relief and steadied his shaking
legs, preparing to go back to sleep.
Suddenly, something grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and
lifted him up.
Aoshi screamed again and began crying. *Haha-ue had said that
there were vampires and ghosts in the dark...* Softly, that *thing*
whispered in his ear, "Little boy, don't ever scream like that at
night or those evil demons will come and get you..."
With his legs kicking at nothing, Aoshi let out a high pitched
scream and struggled, his fingers clawing at the intruder's sleeve.
"Wah... Haha-ue... Nezumi desu... Tamashii desu..."
"Now the rat is gone. Sit down and sleep. We need to get to
Kyoto fast..." sighed the man in a softer tone and set Aoshi down.
The boy scurried to a corner and sat down, his blue-gray eyes staring
curiously. "...and don't ever scream like that again."
With frightened tears running down freely, Aoshi buried his
head into the sleeves of his dirty yukata top and sniffled. The man
heaved a sigh and walked towards him. *Children... I hate
children...* Kneeling on one knee, the man reached out a hand and
stroked the boy's tousled dark hair. "Now, don't cry anymore. Get
some sleep and we'll get to Kyoto as soon as possible to meet
Okashira."
Aoshi peered up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. "Who are
you?" asked the boy weakly, his voice trembling from fear. "Are you
going to kill me?"
The man smirked and laughed. "Matsudaira Aoshi, who do you
think I am? An assassin? You wouldn't be talking to me right now if I
were employed to see that you vanish forever from the face of this
world."
"Who are you?" repeated Aoshi slowly, his fists all balled up
until his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white. "How do you know
my name?"
"I'm Okina, a loyal member of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu,"
whispered the man into the boy's ear, pretending not to know anything
about the Matsudaira disaster. *Now... I have to make him trust me in
order to get him to Kyoto... C'mon, Okina. You are an expert in
spying and don't tell me that you can't successfully lie to a six
year old boy,* hissed a voice in his mind.
*Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu*.
That very phrase instantly rang a bell in Aoshi's mind.
"Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu..." mumbled the boy softly and his clear eyes
instantly looked up at the man. Quickly, his fingers closed around
Okina's uniform. "You are from the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu? Really?"
Okina nodded solemnly and flashed a lopsided smile. "Why? Is
there anything? I just happened to pass by," he lied to the boy and
watched his reaction. *Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late. Don't remind me
of that.*
"Kami-sama..." mumbled the boy and sprawled forward, landing on
all fours. His little fingers closed around the leg of Okina's
trousers and gripped tightly, tears brimming in his eyes once again.
"Please... Haha-ue asked me to find the Onimitsu Oniwabanshuu to help
me..." wept the boy and tugged.
"What happened?" asked Okina, interested to hear the other side
of the story.
"I don't know... Haha-ue just woke me up and forced me to hide
inside that well... When I managed to climb out from the well, haha-
ue and mouto-chan were already dead..." sobbed the boy endlessly.
"Do you know who attacked your haha-ue?"
"I could only see his eyes and hear his voice..."
"Never mind... I'm sure Okashira can help me... Now, don't
cry... I'm scared of people crying like that," reassured Okina and
patted the young boy softly on his head.
*Who is this boy's father anyway?*
*Why did Okashira ask me to come all the way to this place just
to protect them?*
*What have they done to meet with a full onslaught from their
enemies?*
"Will you get me to the Oniwabanshuu?" asked the boy
frantically again and clawed at the sides of his arms.
Okina sighed again and gently pried the boy away from his arms.
*I hate answering questions.* Turning his focus onto Aoshi once
again, he promised, "I'll make sure you get to Kyoto safe and sound."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
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*You shouldn't bring the boy along. You don't know whether he
is actually Matsudaira Ieshige's youngest son or not! He might be a
fake!* whispered a voice softly in his mind. Okina's eyebrows met in
a slight frown. It had been one full week since he had found the
unconscious boy in that abandoned temple.
He sighed again for the tenth time that hour. Aoshi was
sound asleep beside him and there was no-one around in this little
wooden shack. Not that he had no money to buy them a night's stay in
a local inn, but he didn't want to arouse suspicion from anyone.
He studied the young face which was twisted in an agonized way.
*So young, so pitiful...* Reaching behind him, Okina removed a pair
of wooden weapons and began polishing them with one end of his sash.
Staring ahead, he swung his tonfa at an imaginary enemy and
snickered.
"Haha-ue!" a sharp scream pierced the air followed by severe
thrashing and Okina winced inevitably. Slowly, the screaming subsided
and tears began slipping down the boy's cheeks.
Gently, Okina took the end of his sash and brushed away Aoshi's
tears. Leaning back against a wooden wall, he fiddled with his tonfa
and closed his eyes slowly. *Just one more day to Kyoto... What
should I tell Okashira? I have failed in this mission...*
Going to Edo had been a tough decision on him. A very tough
one for he had buried too many of his secrets, too much of his past
behind him. Okina reached out his fingers before his eyes and began
counting. "Twenty years... It has been twenty years since..."
whispered Okina aloud and paused for a while as bitterness washed
over his heart.
Slowly, he continued, "If Ichiro-chan was still alive today, he
would be four times older than this boy... Why did he have to die so
early? Kami-sama is so unfair to me..." He inhaled deeply and snapped
open his eyes. "Aoshi looks a lot like him... No, he acts like him."
*Maybe I have committed too many sins in this life to receive
such a fate with my only son dead.*
Okina refocused his attention on the boy.
"Little boy, I like you at first sight. I'll make sure that you
get an audience with Okashira."
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Copyright reserved 1999, 2000 W. Siew Lee
All standard Rurouni Kenshin disclaimers apply to this fanfic.
E-mail: Siew Lee [wsiewle@tm.net.my]
URL: http://www.rurouni.org/dreams/
UIN: #14025577
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Dreams in the Dark
Part 1 : Embracing the Sword (Chapter 1)
---------------------------------------------------------------------
~~~ Summer, 1857 - in the outskirts of Edo ~~~
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Darkness.
It was all around him, smothering him.
The rhythmic splashing of raindrops echoed in his ears
endlessly and the cold assaulted his wracked body without mercy. His
face was buried in his arms, his body already numb and wet. A gust of
cold air blew past and he shivered uncontrollably. His feet were blue
from the cold as he had lost his shoes when he ran and ran from his
home.
He walked without aimlessly, his mind only knowing to escape
from the unknown. Slowly, he walked forward again, only to collapse
in exhaustion as his feet could carry him no longer.
Ten days... It had been ten days.
Suddenly, there was a loud noise above him. He looked up, only
to see bits of the clay tiles on the roof being blown away by the
savage wind, leaving the rotting structural wooden beams behind. The
boy ignored the rain, letting it wet his body.
He had been through conditions worse than that. There were days
when he would eat dirt and grass just to fill his empty stomach.
There were also nights when he would lay his head on a boulder to
rest his aching body.
Tears came.
Loud sobs escaped from his throat as his fragile self lay
huddled in a corner, the slick wet wood supporting his entire body
weight. Lightning bolts flashed across the skies. They were beautiful
indeed, but the power and strength they showed were more than
frightening. To the little boy, they were nothing compared to the
terror and horror which he had witnessed. The temple in which he had
sought protection from the merciless weather was slowly crumbling
away under the bad weather but the boy stayed rooted there, his legs
too tired to carry him any further.
With a careless wipe by the sleeve of his ragged gi top, the
little boy gathered himself and stood up. Puddles of muddy water
dominated the barren earth and the soft ground sank dangerously
beneath his feet. He steadied his balance by holding onto a broken
wooden pillar with his trembling hands but slowly let go. The ancient
statue of Buddha in the abandoned temple loomed behind those doors
but the little boy stood outside the old building, seeking only
minimal protection from the rain before the edge of the roof was
blown away. His blood stained clothes burned his body and he stared
at them unblinkingly. Painfully, he tried to croak out a word, but
his throat was parched. He tried again; this time, he barely
succeeded.
"Haha-ue..." mumbled the little boy as a tear slipped past his
left eye. He looked at the front panel of his tiny cotton yukata and
saw it stained red in color.
"Chichi-ue..."
All he could remember was the terrified screams of his mother
when the attackers raided the outer branch of the Matsudaira
household. *Chichi-ue was screaming something... Something about the
house of Watanabe...* whispered the boy silently but he never got to
listen to the entire word for all he had heard after that were
screams and shrieks. Those memories would never fade no matter how
hard he wished they would.
"Watanabe! Watanabe! Watanabe!" screamed a voice in his mind
and young boy snarled fiercely at the word. Those eyes... That man
was holding his baby sister and threw her high in the air, aiming the
sharp katana beneath her. He had to bite his fingers to avoid
screaming when the crying bundle slid down from the tip of the sword
to its hilt, her blood staining the blade a bright crimson hue.
There was no more crying, only the booming sound of the
ninja's sadistic laughter.
He would remember that insane look in that man's eyes forever.
That rabid light in his eyes were enough to made him shiver in fear.
The little boy kneeled down on the ground, ignoring the
dampness that attacked his fragile body. *Haha-ue...* wept the boy.
He could never retell the horror and grief which overwhelmed him when
he climbed out from the covered well where he sought refuge during
the onslaught. It was like a sword being driven through his heart
when he saw a familiar figure lying on the floor in a puddle of
blood.
He had seen enough of these things.
"Haha-ue!" he remembered screaming. He stared at a long gash
along her arm and shrank back in fear. He had accidentally cut
himself once before and it hurt. Now, a gash about a foot long
adorned his mother's arm and fresh blood was still gushing from it.
Tears brimmed beneath his eyelids just to see how much pain and
suffering his mother was forced to endure... Suddenly, the woman's
eyes fluttered open and gazed at him. The boy edged closer, ignoring
the blood which had soaked his knees and gi top.
"Haha-ue?"
"Come here, Shi-chan... Come..." the woman whispered in a
barely audible voice. Tears brimmed from her eyes as she struggled to
sit up. The boy nodded and tried to help her up, calling her 'haha-
ue' in fearful whimpers. The woman gritted her teeth and reached
behind with her uninjured arm to tear off her obi. With blood
dripping from her chin, she drew her finger across the puddle of her
own blood and began writing on the cloth with soft agonized moans. He
looked fearfully on, his innocent eyes not understanding a single
word before his mother finished scribbling on her cloth belt and
stuffed it into the inside of his gi top with a shaking hand. Bearing
the pain, the woman reached into her kimono and removed a copper coin
strung on a red string. Weakly, she pulled the boy closer and placed
the string around her son's neck. Slowly, she slumped down again,
tears rolling down her pale cheeks.
His mother's last words still echoed in his mind when he tried
to lift her up again: "G... Go... Go and find someone named
Tsunashige Makimachi of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu clan... He, as the
Okashira, will help you... Let him read this letter and show him the
coin, and he will help you... Shi-chan, take good care of yourself
and seek vengeance for us when you are strong! Remember, seek
vengeance..."
The boy shook his head violently and cried, incoherent sounds
erupting from his very core. He couldn't understand what was going
on! He was frightened and scared; those gory scenes flashed past in
his mind continuously. Fresh blood was trickling from the edge of her
mouth as she coughed up mouthfuls of the sticky red liquid when she
spoke to him for the last time. One sleeve of her purple kimono was
torn off and long gashes adorned her upper torso. When she hugged
him, he could heard her anguished breathing.
When she died, her eyes remained open. The light in them... He
would remember his mother's final expression.
He shook her, called for her, but she remained motionless on
the tiled floor. He hugged her tightly, refusing to let her go, but
her body was getting colder and colder with every second that passed.
It finally dawned on him that haha-ue would never kiss him,
hold him or even talk to him ever again.
It was this far that his short legs could carry him and he
collapsed weakly face-first onto the soft ground.
When was the last time it rained?
The boy looked up at the darkened sky with dimmed blue eyes,
relishing the rivulets of rain that ran down his cheeks, mingling
with his tears.
He knew the answer.
It was just two days ago that it had last rained, but it had
rained blood.
Giving a shrill cry, the boy crawled towards the entrance of
the old temple and heaved himself onto the doorsteps. He looked
directly at the serene statue of Buddha and softly whispered, "Lord
Buddha, where is haha-ue? Lord Buddha, where is haha-ue? Let me be
with haha-ue!"
Slowly, his vision blurred and the objects around him seemed to
have double outlines. A splitting headache set in and even that speck
of light in his unconscious mind was effectively shut out by the
reigning darkness.
Before long, a small body lay motionless on the doorsteps of
the abandoned temple, exposed to the rain.
When was the last time it rained again?
In fact, the rain would never stop. Instead, it would continue
throughout his entire life, overshadowing the memories of his
childhood.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Steady footsteps drew nearer and nearer.
A figure towered above a slumped little body. The rain was
slowing down and it was just a soft drizzle over the barren plains.
The storm had just calmed down and droplets of water from the
wide-rimmed straw hat dripped onto the ground. The man tore off the
black veil which covered the lower part of his face and tucked it
away in his uniform.
"Little boy..." called the man, his dark mustache and goatee
bristling at the sight of the dried blood on the boy's clothes.
Gently, he bent down to roll the boy face up and gasped a little.
"Kami-sama... Ichiro-chan?" half-shouted the man, shaking the
boy's arm violently. *No... It can't be... Ichiro-chan is long
dead...* whispered a voice skeptically in his mind. The man shook
free of the voice and took a closer look at the boy. Gashes and
bruises adorned his chest and his eyes were squeezed shut. His face
was ghastly pale and his dark hair was plastered on his forehead. His
fingers reached down to feel the boy's limbs and he moved his hand
away reflexively. "Kami-sama... Is he dead?" muttered the man and
began rubbing his hands against the boy's cold body.
"Poor thing..." whispered the man and kneeled down on one knee,
a hand stroking the boy's silky hair. Suddenly, something within the
boy's clothes caught his eye.
He narrowed his eyes. No, it wasn't mere dirt or debris, but
it was a piece of fabric and there was some scrawling showing
through.
With tentative fingers, the man reached down to retrieve the
cloth from the boy's chest. Flipping it open, his eyes widened.
*No... This can't be... Ieshige Matsudaira can't be dead!* thought
the man frantically, sitting on the ground weakly. *No, it can't be.
If there was a massacre in the house of Matsudaira, then why was
every thing still in proper order when I was there a mere two days
ago? But then, there was no-one to be found on the premise? Were they
all murdered?* He heaved a depressed sigh and closed his eyes for a
moment, suddenly too tired to think anymore. Blinking them open, he
quickly scanned through the rest of the letter. *Too late...
Okashira, it's too late... * mumbled the man and gritted his teeth,
his eyes staring at the boy.
"I failed the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu... I failed my lord..."
Stealing another glance at the unconscious boy, the man folded
the letter and proceeded to slip it into the inner folds of his ninja
uniform. *Better not to let him know about this... He's too young.
Lucky thing, he is still very much alive.* Tearing off his cloak, he
wrapped it around the fragile body and proceeded to carry the boy
inside the temple. He looked around, his bright eyes searching for
some twigs within the old temple.
Very soon, a warm bonfire was crackling merrily in the midst of
the ruined building. The man stroked the boy gently on his head and
took off his outer coat, covering the shivering boy with it.
"Matsudaira Aoshi, ne? Don't worry, my boy, you will live
well... I'll get you to Okashira," whispered the man and flashed a
small grin.
The man smiled a little and leaned back, drifting into the Land
of Dreams.
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"Haha-ue!" A shrill scream pierced through the silent night and
a figure sat up straight, haggard breathing filling the air. Beads
of sweat rolled down his forehead and his cotton yukata was damp from
a mixture of perspiration and rainwater. There was a tingling
sensation in his limbs and he shivered uncontrollably in the
coldness. He stared at the cloak which kept him warm and wondered,
*Who gave me the cloak? Was that you, haha-ue?* A few embers burning
brightly in the night caught his attention and he looked at them
curiously. *Haha-ue? Did you see me shivering in the cold and you
gave me those embers to warm me?*
They gave out warmth and comfort, almost as if he was lying in
his mother's arms with the silky fabric of her kimono rustling in his
ears.
*Haha-ue? Is that you? I miss you... Where are you?*
Suddenly, there was a nip by his toe, followed by a flurry of
movements, and a long and scaly object flicking against his ankle.
Slowly, he looked at his foot and a pair of beady eyes stared back at
him.
"Haha-ue!!!" screamed the boy and cried out loud. "Nezumi,
haha-ue!!!" shrieked the boy and tried to crawl away. The rat gave a
few squeaks only to prompt more fear in the boy. The rat stood up on
its hind legs, its whiskers twitching and sharp canines appeared in
its mouth. Aoshi took a deep breath and began edging away inch by
inch, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. The rat squeaked
again and scurried off, leaving the poor boy alone.
Aoshi heaved a soft sigh of relief and steadied his shaking
legs, preparing to go back to sleep.
Suddenly, something grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and
lifted him up.
Aoshi screamed again and began crying. *Haha-ue had said that
there were vampires and ghosts in the dark...* Softly, that *thing*
whispered in his ear, "Little boy, don't ever scream like that at
night or those evil demons will come and get you..."
With his legs kicking at nothing, Aoshi let out a high pitched
scream and struggled, his fingers clawing at the intruder's sleeve.
"Wah... Haha-ue... Nezumi desu... Tamashii desu..."
"Now the rat is gone. Sit down and sleep. We need to get to
Kyoto fast..." sighed the man in a softer tone and set Aoshi down.
The boy scurried to a corner and sat down, his blue-gray eyes staring
curiously. "...and don't ever scream like that again."
With frightened tears running down freely, Aoshi buried his
head into the sleeves of his dirty yukata top and sniffled. The man
heaved a sigh and walked towards him. *Children... I hate
children...* Kneeling on one knee, the man reached out a hand and
stroked the boy's tousled dark hair. "Now, don't cry anymore. Get
some sleep and we'll get to Kyoto as soon as possible to meet
Okashira."
Aoshi peered up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. "Who are
you?" asked the boy weakly, his voice trembling from fear. "Are you
going to kill me?"
The man smirked and laughed. "Matsudaira Aoshi, who do you
think I am? An assassin? You wouldn't be talking to me right now if I
were employed to see that you vanish forever from the face of this
world."
"Who are you?" repeated Aoshi slowly, his fists all balled up
until his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white. "How do you know
my name?"
"I'm Okina, a loyal member of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu,"
whispered the man into the boy's ear, pretending not to know anything
about the Matsudaira disaster. *Now... I have to make him trust me in
order to get him to Kyoto... C'mon, Okina. You are an expert in
spying and don't tell me that you can't successfully lie to a six
year old boy,* hissed a voice in his mind.
*Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu*.
That very phrase instantly rang a bell in Aoshi's mind.
"Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu..." mumbled the boy softly and his clear eyes
instantly looked up at the man. Quickly, his fingers closed around
Okina's uniform. "You are from the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu? Really?"
Okina nodded solemnly and flashed a lopsided smile. "Why? Is
there anything? I just happened to pass by," he lied to the boy and
watched his reaction. *Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late. Don't remind me
of that.*
"Kami-sama..." mumbled the boy and sprawled forward, landing on
all fours. His little fingers closed around the leg of Okina's
trousers and gripped tightly, tears brimming in his eyes once again.
"Please... Haha-ue asked me to find the Onimitsu Oniwabanshuu to help
me..." wept the boy and tugged.
"What happened?" asked Okina, interested to hear the other side
of the story.
"I don't know... Haha-ue just woke me up and forced me to hide
inside that well... When I managed to climb out from the well, haha-
ue and mouto-chan were already dead..." sobbed the boy endlessly.
"Do you know who attacked your haha-ue?"
"I could only see his eyes and hear his voice..."
"Never mind... I'm sure Okashira can help me... Now, don't
cry... I'm scared of people crying like that," reassured Okina and
patted the young boy softly on his head.
*Who is this boy's father anyway?*
*Why did Okashira ask me to come all the way to this place just
to protect them?*
*What have they done to meet with a full onslaught from their
enemies?*
"Will you get me to the Oniwabanshuu?" asked the boy
frantically again and clawed at the sides of his arms.
Okina sighed again and gently pried the boy away from his arms.
*I hate answering questions.* Turning his focus onto Aoshi once
again, he promised, "I'll make sure you get to Kyoto safe and sound."
"Promise?"
"Promise."
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*You shouldn't bring the boy along. You don't know whether he
is actually Matsudaira Ieshige's youngest son or not! He might be a
fake!* whispered a voice softly in his mind. Okina's eyebrows met in
a slight frown. It had been one full week since he had found the
unconscious boy in that abandoned temple.
He sighed again for the tenth time that hour. Aoshi was
sound asleep beside him and there was no-one around in this little
wooden shack. Not that he had no money to buy them a night's stay in
a local inn, but he didn't want to arouse suspicion from anyone.
He studied the young face which was twisted in an agonized way.
*So young, so pitiful...* Reaching behind him, Okina removed a pair
of wooden weapons and began polishing them with one end of his sash.
Staring ahead, he swung his tonfa at an imaginary enemy and
snickered.
"Haha-ue!" a sharp scream pierced the air followed by severe
thrashing and Okina winced inevitably. Slowly, the screaming subsided
and tears began slipping down the boy's cheeks.
Gently, Okina took the end of his sash and brushed away Aoshi's
tears. Leaning back against a wooden wall, he fiddled with his tonfa
and closed his eyes slowly. *Just one more day to Kyoto... What
should I tell Okashira? I have failed in this mission...*
Going to Edo had been a tough decision on him. A very tough
one for he had buried too many of his secrets, too much of his past
behind him. Okina reached out his fingers before his eyes and began
counting. "Twenty years... It has been twenty years since..."
whispered Okina aloud and paused for a while as bitterness washed
over his heart.
Slowly, he continued, "If Ichiro-chan was still alive today, he
would be four times older than this boy... Why did he have to die so
early? Kami-sama is so unfair to me..." He inhaled deeply and snapped
open his eyes. "Aoshi looks a lot like him... No, he acts like him."
*Maybe I have committed too many sins in this life to receive
such a fate with my only son dead.*
Okina refocused his attention on the boy.
"Little boy, I like you at first sight. I'll make sure that you
get an audience with Okashira."
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Copyright reserved 1999, 2000 W. Siew Lee
All standard Rurouni Kenshin disclaimers apply to this fanfic.
E-mail: Siew Lee [wsiewle@tm.net.my]
URL: http://www.rurouni.org/dreams/
UIN: #14025577
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