Disclaimer: I don't own either series, but I wish I did.
Chapter 1, revision! Let's hope it's better the second time around! I wasn't happy with how it was going and got some new ideas. But more importantly, I've actually seen Trust and Betrayal. Much easier to write now. However, I also decided that this would be more effective with angst than humor. A Kenshin and Chichiri fic could be really funny, however they both have such tragic pasts, it would be a shame to exclude them. Although I (wasn't planning on revealing this until I wrote it, oh well) am not going to end this fic with Ken and Chiri, but will be concluding their story and then continuing with everyone's favorite bandits!
Also, since this is now more dramatic, there are some spoilers in this chapter. If you don't know who Tomoe or Hikou are and don't want to know - DON'T READ! Hope you like my changes, or if you haven't read it, hope you like it! R&R please!
Well thinking on it.this chapter at least follows my plot from before, it's more of a totally new one than a revision. oh well. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kenshin stood up, putting his empty sake cup on the table. *The sake tastes bad, but still I keep drinking. This must be what Tomoe meant.* He winced at the thought of her. He made his way over to the counter of the inn. He tried to ignore the stares. He knew everyone was wondering who the redheaded swordsman was. He briefly raised a hand to make sure his bandage was still in place. If people saw the cross on his cheek they could realize who he was, something Kenshin didn't want. As he walked he dropped a hand to his sword hilt, not just out of habit, but to make sure it was still there. He had quickly gotten used to having his swords by his side again and having only one felt odd. Hearing a few gasps, he pulled his hand away from the sword.
He heard the door open, even with the amount he had had to drink, his hearing and training were still intact. Kenshin turned to look at the new arrival. *Blue hair?* he thought in surprise. *And a monk* He felt a twinge of sadness, seeing the monk only reminded him of how many lives he had taken. Sighing, he stepped up to the counter. "I'd like a room for the night." he said.
Chichiri opened the door to the inn and walked inside. The first thing he noticed was that nobody seemed to be staring at him. *The mask was a good idea* he thought. Usually everyone turned to see the monk. His scarred face frightened people and their stares of curiosity and pity bothered him. Now people only stared as they wondered why a monk was in their town. *Or they're staring at my hair* he thought in amusement. He ran a hand through his stick up blue bangs, trying to smooth them out. Hearing several gasps, he quickly looked around.
A young man with red hair was standing with his hand on a sword. Chichiri tightened his grip on his staff, ready for trouble. Instead the redhead looked slightly embarrassed and lowed his hand. Chichiri looked at the man, intrigued. He looked younger than 21, Chichiri's age; and thus quite young to be a swordsman. Feeling a yawn coming, Chichiri remembered why he was there and stepped up to the counter. "May I have a room for the night?" he asked.
The redhead and well, bluehead turned to look at each other. "Daaaa." said the monk. The man at the counter, the innkeeper, hesitated and then spoke. "I'm afraid we only have one room. Which we are obligated to give to the monk." Kenshin turned, his eyes glinting a dangerous gold. Too much sake was beginning to take its toll, all he wanted was to go to sleep. If he were asleep he wouldn't do anything stupid like drink too much sake, or be affected by it. And if he slept, he could forget Tomoe and his pain for a time. "I was here first." he growled.
Chichiri held up his hands "I wouldn't want to leave him without a room. I'll find somewhere else to stay no da." he said. Kenshin forced himself to calm down. *I'm trying to atone for my sins, taking a room from a monk can't be a good way to start* Kenshin thought. He let go of his sword, he hadn't even realized he had grabbed it. *Tomoe would laugh at me for acting this way.* He forced a smile, his first in a long time. "It's ok. I'll sleep outside. It can't be good for my karma to put a monk out in the cold."
"There are two beds." the innkeeper began. The two looked at each other. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to share a room with me." Kenshin said. "No it's alright no da. What kind of a monk would I be it I didn't share with those in need." Chichiri said with a grin. "We'll share it no da." Before Kenshin could protest the innkeeper had given him the key and walked off. "Lead the way no da." the monk said. Kenshin gave a consenting shrug and headed towards their room.
"Daaa." said the monk as the entered the room. "It's so little no da!" he walked over to a bed and dropped his staff on it, followed by his kesa and kasa. Kenshin closed the door glaring. "Why do you keep saying that?" he asked, annoyed. Chichiri looked at him in surprise. "Saying what no da?" he asked. "That!" Kenshin snarled. The sake had lowered his defenses and the annoyance of sharing his room with a no da-ing, constantly smiling monk was starting to get to him. He had intended to spend the night much as he had every night since the war ended, wallowing in sake and pity, thinking of his mistakes and Tomoe until sleep spared him. The happy monk was obviously not going to allow that.
Chichiri shrugged. "It's a habit no da." Kenshin forced himself not to draw his sword as a threat. "Well stop it." he grunted. Chichiri's eyes widened in surprise. "Someone's in a bad mood no da." he said. The redhead was obviously a samurai, perhaps even a hitokiri. Fresh out of a battle, judging by the bandage on his cheek with a bit of blood soaked through. Chichiri could see pain in the redhead's eyes, he wondered if it was the same pain his mask hid. Kenshin was mad, he had hardly spoken to anyone in months and the past few hours of preparing for a night of mourning Tomoe had gone to waste. Eyes glinting gold he reached for his sword. "Don't piss me off monk." he growled, trying to get control of himself. "I can help if you want no da. That's what monk's do." he offered. "No da." he added as an after thought. The young swordsman had peaked Chichiri's curiosity and he wanted to see what he was capable of.
With an angry sigh Kenshin drew his sword and charged, hoping to startle the monk. Unfortunately he had never used the sword before, it was lighter than he expected and the sake threw off his estimate of the distance. Chichiri jumped back, surprised by the sudden attack. Kenshin, quickly losing himself to Battousai with the adrenaline of battle, positioned himself for another charge. *Battoujitsu* Chichiri thought, quickly putting up a barrier. The sword slammed into the barrier, bouncing back a shocked Battousai. "What the?" he said in confusion.
Chichiri's kasa floated over to him and he began putting it on. "We can talk this out when you're in a better mood." he said. "Until then, sayonara no da!" as he spoke the kasa slid over his body until he was gone, and the kasa rested on the floor. Kenshin blinked in surprise, shock had pushed back the Battousai. He slid his sword in its sheath and picked up the kasa. "How did he do that?" he muttered, looking it over. Finding no answer, he set the kasa on the bed, and went over to a small table in the room.
The room itself was pretty bare, two beds, a table and 2 chairs, and a window. Sighing Kenshin looked out the window. *I need better control. If he hadn't had the barrier I would have killed him.* he slid the sword from its sheath, looking at the reverse blade. *Well, maybe. I was about to flip it over.* he sighed again and looked out the window. *I have to be strong, I vowed to never kill again, and that's what I intend to do* "Tomoe." he said softly. He removed the bandage and brushed his fingers over the cross of a healing scab and still bleeding cut.
"They say a wound made by someone in hate never heals." he whispered, recalling the words spoken to him long ago. "Is that true for love too? Or did you hate me at the end?" he said softly to the empty room. A question that he asked too often. With an answer he would never know. In his mind he saw the brown eyes looking up at him, squinting with pain. A hand reached up and he felt the blade cutting into his cheek. But the only pain he felt was in his heart. A tear slid from the eyes, and then they closed and the blade slid from his cheek, blood falling like the snow. . . A yell and crash from downstairs brought Kenshin back to the present. "I make the bloody rain fall." he sighed.
He slid his sword back into its sheath. "Heh." he laughed bitterly, "A sheath for my sword." With another sigh, Kenshin looked out the window, with the monk gone, it seemed like he would be spending another sorrowful night. Just as he deserved to.
Chapter 1, revision! Let's hope it's better the second time around! I wasn't happy with how it was going and got some new ideas. But more importantly, I've actually seen Trust and Betrayal. Much easier to write now. However, I also decided that this would be more effective with angst than humor. A Kenshin and Chichiri fic could be really funny, however they both have such tragic pasts, it would be a shame to exclude them. Although I (wasn't planning on revealing this until I wrote it, oh well) am not going to end this fic with Ken and Chiri, but will be concluding their story and then continuing with everyone's favorite bandits!
Also, since this is now more dramatic, there are some spoilers in this chapter. If you don't know who Tomoe or Hikou are and don't want to know - DON'T READ! Hope you like my changes, or if you haven't read it, hope you like it! R&R please!
Well thinking on it.this chapter at least follows my plot from before, it's more of a totally new one than a revision. oh well. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Kenshin stood up, putting his empty sake cup on the table. *The sake tastes bad, but still I keep drinking. This must be what Tomoe meant.* He winced at the thought of her. He made his way over to the counter of the inn. He tried to ignore the stares. He knew everyone was wondering who the redheaded swordsman was. He briefly raised a hand to make sure his bandage was still in place. If people saw the cross on his cheek they could realize who he was, something Kenshin didn't want. As he walked he dropped a hand to his sword hilt, not just out of habit, but to make sure it was still there. He had quickly gotten used to having his swords by his side again and having only one felt odd. Hearing a few gasps, he pulled his hand away from the sword.
He heard the door open, even with the amount he had had to drink, his hearing and training were still intact. Kenshin turned to look at the new arrival. *Blue hair?* he thought in surprise. *And a monk* He felt a twinge of sadness, seeing the monk only reminded him of how many lives he had taken. Sighing, he stepped up to the counter. "I'd like a room for the night." he said.
Chichiri opened the door to the inn and walked inside. The first thing he noticed was that nobody seemed to be staring at him. *The mask was a good idea* he thought. Usually everyone turned to see the monk. His scarred face frightened people and their stares of curiosity and pity bothered him. Now people only stared as they wondered why a monk was in their town. *Or they're staring at my hair* he thought in amusement. He ran a hand through his stick up blue bangs, trying to smooth them out. Hearing several gasps, he quickly looked around.
A young man with red hair was standing with his hand on a sword. Chichiri tightened his grip on his staff, ready for trouble. Instead the redhead looked slightly embarrassed and lowed his hand. Chichiri looked at the man, intrigued. He looked younger than 21, Chichiri's age; and thus quite young to be a swordsman. Feeling a yawn coming, Chichiri remembered why he was there and stepped up to the counter. "May I have a room for the night?" he asked.
The redhead and well, bluehead turned to look at each other. "Daaaa." said the monk. The man at the counter, the innkeeper, hesitated and then spoke. "I'm afraid we only have one room. Which we are obligated to give to the monk." Kenshin turned, his eyes glinting a dangerous gold. Too much sake was beginning to take its toll, all he wanted was to go to sleep. If he were asleep he wouldn't do anything stupid like drink too much sake, or be affected by it. And if he slept, he could forget Tomoe and his pain for a time. "I was here first." he growled.
Chichiri held up his hands "I wouldn't want to leave him without a room. I'll find somewhere else to stay no da." he said. Kenshin forced himself to calm down. *I'm trying to atone for my sins, taking a room from a monk can't be a good way to start* Kenshin thought. He let go of his sword, he hadn't even realized he had grabbed it. *Tomoe would laugh at me for acting this way.* He forced a smile, his first in a long time. "It's ok. I'll sleep outside. It can't be good for my karma to put a monk out in the cold."
"There are two beds." the innkeeper began. The two looked at each other. "I'm sure he wouldn't want to share a room with me." Kenshin said. "No it's alright no da. What kind of a monk would I be it I didn't share with those in need." Chichiri said with a grin. "We'll share it no da." Before Kenshin could protest the innkeeper had given him the key and walked off. "Lead the way no da." the monk said. Kenshin gave a consenting shrug and headed towards their room.
"Daaa." said the monk as the entered the room. "It's so little no da!" he walked over to a bed and dropped his staff on it, followed by his kesa and kasa. Kenshin closed the door glaring. "Why do you keep saying that?" he asked, annoyed. Chichiri looked at him in surprise. "Saying what no da?" he asked. "That!" Kenshin snarled. The sake had lowered his defenses and the annoyance of sharing his room with a no da-ing, constantly smiling monk was starting to get to him. He had intended to spend the night much as he had every night since the war ended, wallowing in sake and pity, thinking of his mistakes and Tomoe until sleep spared him. The happy monk was obviously not going to allow that.
Chichiri shrugged. "It's a habit no da." Kenshin forced himself not to draw his sword as a threat. "Well stop it." he grunted. Chichiri's eyes widened in surprise. "Someone's in a bad mood no da." he said. The redhead was obviously a samurai, perhaps even a hitokiri. Fresh out of a battle, judging by the bandage on his cheek with a bit of blood soaked through. Chichiri could see pain in the redhead's eyes, he wondered if it was the same pain his mask hid. Kenshin was mad, he had hardly spoken to anyone in months and the past few hours of preparing for a night of mourning Tomoe had gone to waste. Eyes glinting gold he reached for his sword. "Don't piss me off monk." he growled, trying to get control of himself. "I can help if you want no da. That's what monk's do." he offered. "No da." he added as an after thought. The young swordsman had peaked Chichiri's curiosity and he wanted to see what he was capable of.
With an angry sigh Kenshin drew his sword and charged, hoping to startle the monk. Unfortunately he had never used the sword before, it was lighter than he expected and the sake threw off his estimate of the distance. Chichiri jumped back, surprised by the sudden attack. Kenshin, quickly losing himself to Battousai with the adrenaline of battle, positioned himself for another charge. *Battoujitsu* Chichiri thought, quickly putting up a barrier. The sword slammed into the barrier, bouncing back a shocked Battousai. "What the?" he said in confusion.
Chichiri's kasa floated over to him and he began putting it on. "We can talk this out when you're in a better mood." he said. "Until then, sayonara no da!" as he spoke the kasa slid over his body until he was gone, and the kasa rested on the floor. Kenshin blinked in surprise, shock had pushed back the Battousai. He slid his sword in its sheath and picked up the kasa. "How did he do that?" he muttered, looking it over. Finding no answer, he set the kasa on the bed, and went over to a small table in the room.
The room itself was pretty bare, two beds, a table and 2 chairs, and a window. Sighing Kenshin looked out the window. *I need better control. If he hadn't had the barrier I would have killed him.* he slid the sword from its sheath, looking at the reverse blade. *Well, maybe. I was about to flip it over.* he sighed again and looked out the window. *I have to be strong, I vowed to never kill again, and that's what I intend to do* "Tomoe." he said softly. He removed the bandage and brushed his fingers over the cross of a healing scab and still bleeding cut.
"They say a wound made by someone in hate never heals." he whispered, recalling the words spoken to him long ago. "Is that true for love too? Or did you hate me at the end?" he said softly to the empty room. A question that he asked too often. With an answer he would never know. In his mind he saw the brown eyes looking up at him, squinting with pain. A hand reached up and he felt the blade cutting into his cheek. But the only pain he felt was in his heart. A tear slid from the eyes, and then they closed and the blade slid from his cheek, blood falling like the snow. . . A yell and crash from downstairs brought Kenshin back to the present. "I make the bloody rain fall." he sighed.
He slid his sword back into its sheath. "Heh." he laughed bitterly, "A sheath for my sword." With another sigh, Kenshin looked out the window, with the monk gone, it seemed like he would be spending another sorrowful night. Just as he deserved to.