The characters of Rurouni Kenshin do not belong to me. They are the creation of Nobuhiro Watsuki and are owned by Sony, Jump comics, and all those other companies responsible for bringing us the anime, manga, and OAV's. I am just a poor fan who borrowed these charactars for a short while.
Note: I wrote this story intending it to be a fairy tale of sorts. This is quite a departure from my previous style of writing with all its rambling description and lack of dialogue, but it was fun to do something different. As many of you know, Chinese legends and myths are filled with tales about spirits and animals that can change forms. After reading so many of these stories I decided to apply these ideas to a semi-alternate reality RK. This is also my first one-shot so please be gentle! =P I tried giving this thing an eerie tone but somehow I don't think I quite pulled it off, but as always comments and constructive criticism will be received with open arms hehe.
Arranging the Threads of Fate
The small teenage boy stumbled past a group of trees, attempting to find his way through the pitch-black forest while making the least sound possible. With only the dim glow of the moon serving as the young man's guide through the thickening greenery, he knew his survival would depend not merely on instinct but his sheer will as well. After a long while of groping in the dark, the boy found himself tripping over his own feet and stumbled, falling clumsily to his knees. Suddenly a sharp noise echoed through the forest, breaking the silence. The sound of rushing feet approached closer as the small figure gathered the remainder of his strength, moving to settle himself behind a pair of tall trees. He could only pray that the overgrown grass combined with the darkness would be enough to hide him from view.
Do you think he went this way? asked a nearby quiet voice belonging to one of the pursuers. Though the young boy in hiding could not see the person from whom the words came, he knew the voice well. The speaker's dark hair was pulled back from his delicate face into a short ponytail and his blue attire marked him as a member of the Shinsengumi.
His tall companion grunted. He can't be far from here, and with the injuries he received I doubt he could make it out of this forest alive, even if he is the Hitokiri Battousai. Come, let's keep looking.
The sounds of feet falling upon the grass faded away and the boy in hiding sighed slowly, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. A burning sensation suddenly penetrated through his hazy consciousness and the young man reached behind him to examine the extent of his injuries. Feeling the sticky wetness from one of his wounds, Himura Battousai realized for the first time that the long gash across his back could prove to be his undoing. However, never being one to easily give in to fate, he forced his scattered thoughts to focus and shoved himself to a standing position by leaning on his katana. Closing his eyes, he slowly inched forward and hoped that he was moving in the right direction.
Moments later a wave of dizziness assailed him and the swordsman once again collapsed.
It's no use, he thought to himself. I've lost too much blood to go any further, but if I don't keep moving they'll find me for sure. He continued to allow his weary heart a moment of regret, a pleasure in which he rarely indulged. Silently he berated himself for being drawn into a fight with two of the Shinsengumi's best fighters, especially while his body was still recovering from a bout of typhoid that had spread through the nearby towns. His wounds bore testimony to both the disastrous results of the fight and his poor judgment.
In a final attempt to save his own life, the young man struggled to right himself once again. After only a few steps, his senses began reeling. His vision blurred while a roaring sound thundered in his ears. Sinking down upon the soft green grass, the famous Hitokiri Battousai closed his eyes and resigned himself to death. Darkness approached him, drawing him farther and farther away from the real world. However, a gentle yet stern voice suddenly called him back to earth.
Wake up! Golden eyes blinked slowly as the half-dead hitokiri tried to clear his vision in order to see the one speaking. The voice seemed so close, yet so far away
Get up! repeated the voice, but this time it was more insistent. Struggling against the pain that threatened to drag him back into unconsciousness, the swordsman attempted to sit upright. Leaning over him was a young girl, her dark hair pulled up into a high ponytail. She wore a white kimono that seemed to glow in the dark, and dimly the Battousai realized that she was nudging his shoulder.
Who are you? he croaked.
With a sigh she shook her head at him vehemently. You must get up. The others will find you if you stay here.
Golden eyes continued to stare blankly before narrowing to dangerous slits. Why are you here? And why do you care if I get caught or not? The young man's voice faded as a wave of dizziness washed over him.
The young girl seemed undaunted by his display of suspicion. Somehow, despite the surrounding darkness, her blue eyes seemed to emit a pure glow. You have no choice but to trust me. Now come on, follow my lead and keep quiet.
With those words she turned and headed towards the south, and within a brief second the Battousai made his decision. Keeping his gaze concentrated on the bright color of the young girl's kimono, he followed behind with slow, shuffling steps.
Just as the last of his strength began to ebb, the swordsman realized that they had come to the edge of the forest. A small distance away he could make out the forms of a few solitary huts, the lights from their windows twinkling like a beacon in the night. The yellow lights transfixed him, and in his daze he couldn't tear his eyes away.
The girl spoke up quietly, drawing his attention. Go down to the small village ahead and knock on the door belonging to the third house on the right. The people there will help you.
The young swordsman turned his gaze away from the village and opened his mouth to thank her, but it was too late. The lady had already disappeared.
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Himura Kenshin awoke with a start and found himself laying on a small futon in a simple room. Sitting bolt upright, he examined his surroundings and wondered where he was. Suddenly the door slid open and an elderly woman wearing peasant clothes appeared with a bowl of broth in her hands.
A smile crossed her wrinkled face. I see that you're finally awake. Here, drink this, it'll make you feel better.
She handed him the bowl and Kenshin accepted it gratefully. Thank you, he murmured. Excuse me, but who are you? And how did I get here?
The old woman sat down on the floor and looked back at the young man curiously. You appeared on our doorstep three nights ago, badly injured. My husband found you nearly unconscious so we took you in and called the healer to examine your injuries. He says that you've lost quite a huge amount of blood, but with more rest and good food you should recover quickly.
An image suddenly flashed through the young swordsman's mind. Turning his violet eyes back to the old woman, he asked, Did you happen to see a girl with me last night?
The lady shook her head. No, you were alone when we found you.
But there was this girl who helped me. She wore a white kimono and had long dark hair. And her eyesthey were the most unusual shade of blue His description trailed off uncertainly as he began to sip the clear broth. It tasted wonderful.
The old woman frowned at his words. Young man, you must have been hallucinating. I don't know anyone around here who fits that description. Don't worry about it and get some sleep. How can you expect to get well if you don't rest? With that she took the empty bowl of broth from Kenshin's hands and stood up to leave the room. I'll come in to check on you later, she said and turned back to give the young man a final glance. Seeing that his eyes were already drifting closed, she sighed and clucked her tongue before quietly sliding the door open and exiting the room.
Later that night, two glowing figures appeared in the middle of the forest. One was a blond-haired woman who wore a bright green kimono that set off her emerald eyes perfectly. The other was a young girl with dark hair and sparkling blue eyes who was garbed in a kimono that glowed pure white. However, at that particular moment, her blue eyes were staring at the small village near the forest's edge longingly.
Seeing where the younger girl's attention lay, the woman sighed. It would be best if you forgot about him, little sister, she advised.
Blue eyes flashed angrily as the young girl turned to answer. I cannot! Sister, he may be human, but there's something about him that sets him apart from the rest of the race. His eyes tell me that his soul is beautiful. And I want to be with him, to help him.
You know that it is forbidden. We are merely spirits, the protectors of nature and the forests. We possess no true human form. What you showed him the night you saved his life was merely an illusion created by your powers. You must never see that young man again.
But I love him! declared the young woman, her voice cracking as tears threatened flow down her cheeks..
Her older sister put a comforting hand on her shoulder. I know. But we are what we are. You cannot change that.
Suddenly the younger girl's eyes widened as a thought struck her. What if I become human? she asked hopefully.
Green eyes widened in shock. And would you be willing to give up all your powers for the sake of one human? Not only that, but you would also be required to sacrifice all memories of your previous existence.
After a moment's hesitation, the young girl nodded. I believe that he's worth it.
But be warned, little sister. The process of finding you a suitable human form will require time, and the human creatures are quite fickle. Even if this young man has feelings for you now, who can say whether his heart will remain unchanged when, years from now, you encounter him again in the shape of a human?
It is a risk I am willing to take, older sister.
Green eyes locked with those of sapphire blue for a long moment, and finally the older spirit smiled at her youngest sister. Then I shall miss you greatly, for you are my youngest sister-spirit and very dear to me. I can only wish you happiness despite any doubts I may have. And may the young man you love deserve the sacrifice you are about to make.
And with those final words the two spirits faded into the night, their departure betrayed only by the slight movement of the wind in the leaves of the trees.
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Many years later, a rurouni walked slowly down the streets of downtown Tokyo through an incredibly dense fog. A sword hung at his side and he carried a small sack containing all his worldly possessions slung over one shoulder. The sound of footsteps reached his ears and he came to a stop as angry words were shouted into the morning mist.
Stop! Hitokiri Battousai! The man turned around in confusion and came face to face with a young and very angry girl. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and her eyes seemed to be the brightest shade of blue he'd ever seen. There was something vaguely familiar about her, but he couldn't quite remember exactly what it was. As he gave her a bewildered look, she rushed towards him with her wooden sword ready to strike. And the man formerly known as the Hitokiri Battousai somehow knew deep in his heart that his wandering days were finally at an end.