I was originally supposed to start typing up chapter 8 of "The Red Haired Samurai," but I just had to write this before the inspiration left. (Sorry that I've yet again delayed updating my story…I'm really terrible when it comes to multi-chapters. .) But anyway, I hope you enjoy! It's slightly AU, but then again, this could have happened when Kenshin was still a hitokiri, ne? Also, this fic is unbeta-ed, so I apologize in advance for any spelling/grammar mistakes that I may have missed.
Disclaimer: No, I really don't own Rurouni Kenshin. Never have, never will.
Cold amber eyes squinted through the darkness, trying to see past the haze that had formed due to the heavy droplets of rain that fell from the dark Kyoto sky. He was oblivious to the torrents battering down at his slight form, stinging his cheeks, as well as soaking his dark blue gi and hakama so that his skin had become ice cold. He wasn't even shivering despite the near freezing temperature around him; neither was he feeling a sensation of being chilled in the slightest.
"Cut off all unnecessary feelings and emotions."
It was the only way to get the job done with the swift accuracy and precision he was known for. It was the only way to stay alive, to keep from going insane.
Or perhaps it was already too late.
He remained crouched on the rooftop nearest to the shrine where he had been told he would find the man who had been chosen to receive heaven's justice. Apparently, the man, Ryuu Yamagachi, was an accomplished samurai, but Kenshin was not intimidated. To him, he was just another victim of Hitokiri Battousai's blade. To the city of Kyoto, just another man lost to the revolutionaries.
In other words, just another man dead.
His target emerged from the shrine just as expected, his head held high with the pride of one who was used to being treated with much respect. A daisho hung at his waist, and he seemed to be amiably chatting with someone next to him, whose head was shrouded behind an umbrella. Kenshin surmised the person to be a bodyguard at first, but as he examined the character further, he noticed that he bore no weapons. What type of bodyguard didn't come armed? Unless...a probing of the man's ki confirmed Kenshin's suspicions that this man was not a bodyguard, much less a warrior. In fact, the ki felt docile and innocent, lacking the maturity and fullness of that of an adult.
Kenshin's throat constricted tightly, and he hoped to every kami he knew that he was wrong in his observation. As if on cue, a surprisingly strong gust of wind blew, knocking the umbrella out of the person's hands and swirling it through the air until it landed on the other side of the street. "No…" Kenshin's suspicions were proven correct when the umbrella revealed the face of a young child, no older than ten. The older man—whom he now assumed to be the child's father—and the child laughed as they became drenched with the rain, trying to catch the umbrella that kept eluding their reach, thanks to the strong gusts of wind. They looked so happy…but how? How could they be so happy under an oppressive government that showed its subjects no mercy nor treated them fairly? Kenshin couldn't understand it.
"Tousan! I got it!" The child said triumphantly. He held the now useless umbrella up to his head, the rain falling through the two gaping holes in the top. The father laughed at the comical scene, walking up to his son and tousling his hair. Then, huddling up against the cold, the two began to walk away from the shrine. This action pulled Kenshin quickly from his thoughts, bringing him back to the task at hand. He was working now, and he would have to put aside his emotions to get the job done. Assassinate the man chosen to receive Tenchuu, and eliminate all witnesses. He'd been doing it for months now, so why should one child amongst the scores of men he had already killed make a difference?
"Because he's just a child." A part of his mind told him. Kenshin shook his head violently, his mind in turmoil. "Get a hold of yourself Battousai. In order to bring about the new era, sacrifices must be made. Those in the way of the revolution must be killed. To ensure that I'm not caught, this also includes any witnesses. I must do this, for Katsura-san. For the new era."
Kenshin silently leapt down from the building, landing softly on the street below. He weaved in and out of the shadows—for even in darkness he could never be too careful—and followed behind his target, waiting until he was a little less than a meter behind before speaking in his customary low and deadly tone.
"Yamagachi Ryuu, I although I bear no grudge against you, for the sake of the new era, I must have your life." Instantly the man spun around, his eyes betraying none of the fear Kenshin was sure he was feeling. He drew his sword in a battoujutsu style attack, attempting to strike at Kenshin, who easily dodged the blow.
"Tousan!" The boy called as his father shoved him roughly to the side.
"Souta, run!" He barely managed to say before Kenshin charged at him. Ryuu swiveled to the side to avoid being cleaved in two, but sustained a deep injury along his abdomen. First his katana clattered onto the floor, and then he followed suit, falling into a puddle of water, that soon turned red due to the blood pooling around him from the wound.
"Who…are you?" He managed to croak, wishing to know the name of the man who had defeated him with such ease. Kenshin flicked the blood off of the sword casually before responding.
"Hitokiri Battousai." And with that he charged the man once more, prepared to end him with a Ryu Tsui Sen.
"No!" Kenshin barely had time to stop himself before the young child appeared in front of his father, holding up his father's sword in a poor excuse for a defensive stance. Kenshin's eyes widened and he froze in mid swing, reminded of the presence of the child once more.
"Souta…I thought I told you…to run." Ryuu barely managed to get out. The child was now in tears, but his eyes were defiant.
"Even if I die, I have to protect you!" Kenshin's eyes widened and his entire body tensed, the memory of the night he'd tried to save the lives of those three girls resurfacing.
I thought, even if it cost me my life, I had to protect them.
Kenshin took a step backward, his breathing getting harsher and his body trembling slightly. If he killed this child, wouldn't that make him no better than the bandits who had slaughtered both slaves and slavers alike? The boy had done nothing wrong, except for being the son of a bakufu official whom Kenshin had been ordered to assassinate. How could a new era where children were supposed to be brought up in a peaceful world be created upon the corpses of innocent people…?
Suddenly, Kenshin heard footsteps, knowing very well that it was the cleanup squad on its way. They would have expected Kenshin to have finished the job by now.
"No, they aren't innocent. The bakufu is evil, and must be brought to an end. Katsura-san has faith in me, and I must fulfill my promise to serve him as his hitokiri. I must eliminate all witnesses." Kenshin raised his sword once again, his hands still shaking slightly. He saw the boy's eyes widen with fear, gripping his father's katana tighter. One look at Ryuu's face and Kenshin could tell that the man was already dead, but the child either didn't notice this, or simply refused to believe it.
"Eliminate."
Kenshin took a step forward, raising the sword even higher.
"All."
Then with godlike speed, he brought down the katana, muffling the boy's cry as he was sliced in two, the crimson blood splattering everywhere.
"Witnesses."
It was just at that moment that Iizuka along with another man showed up at the site, Iizuka pulling out the note with the kanji, "Tenchuu," and placing it on Ryuu's body, the rain causing the ink on the note to bleed. The other man examined the body of the child, shaking his head sorrowfully.
"Poor kid…he didn't stand a chance." He looked around for Kenshin, but the manslayer was already gone, dissolved into the shadows without a trace.
Kenshin walked through the streets, stumbling a few times as he went on his way. The rain had soaked him to the bone, but he only felt numb. His amber eyes had glazed over and had taken on a more haunted look, and he no longer moved swiftly through the shadows, but had been dragging his feet. He felt heavier somehow, as if huge invisible weight had been dropped upon him from the taking of that child's life. Each time he'd killed someone, his soul had gotten darker and his body felt heavier. Now, it looked like that child's life had tipped the scale, and it was becoming too much to bare.
He slipped in a small puddle of water and fell to the ground, a sharp pain traveling up the arm that he had used to try and break his fall. He stayed sprawled on the empty sidewalk for a few moments, the rain hammering at his back and plastering his bangs to his forehead. He blinked the rain out of his eyes and slowly began to stand up, finally pushing himself off the ground once he'd gotten to his knees. He swayed a bit before regaining his balance, looking down at his hakama for the first time since he'd committed the assassination, noticing that it was stained with blood.
"Okami-san…Okami-san will get it out. She always does…" He assured himself absently, heading towards the inn. He slipped in through the back, not even registering the greeting he received from Okami as he walked through the kitchen. He didn't wash his hands but headed straight into his room, sliding the door shut behind him before any of the other soldiers—well, the one or two that actually paid attention to him—could ask him what was wrong.
After putting down his daisho on the stand in the corner, he stood in the center of the room for a few seconds, his expression blank. Then, as if his clothes had suddenly caught fire, he scrambling to get them off his body, ripping a few of the seams in the process. "Blood…get it off!" Once he'd finally managed to get the blood stained clothes off his body, he threw them across the room in a corner and stood in the center of the room, panting.
"What…have I done?" He whispered. He sank to the floor and put his head in his hands, the realization of what he'd done slowly sinking in.
He had just murdered a child in cold blood.
Perhaps, he really was the demon everyone said he was. He had just spilt a child in two, for being at the wrong place on the wrong side. What would his shishou say about this? He would probably deny that he'd ever known him, or perhaps even kill him on the spot. "Which is no less then I'd deserve…" He clenched his eyes shut and leaned against the wall, pulling his legs to his chest.
"Himura-chan?" A worried voice called from the other side of the shoji. "Are you in there?"
"Okami-san…I can't let her see me like this." He stood up and fumbled around for his yukata, slipping in on quickly before sliding the shoji open half way. "What is it?" He said tiredly. She noticed the deep sadness in his eyes, and winced slightly at the sight of seeing the young boy she'd grown to care for fall so deeply into despair.
"I…just wanted to make sure you were alright. You ignored me when you came in, and you went upstairs without even washing up." Kenshin was a bit taken aback that she would be so worried over him, but then again, she'd never seen him kill.
"I'm fine." He said softly. "Just tired." The old woman scrutinized the boy's features, knowing full well that he was not fine, but deciding not to say so. She peered over his shoulder into the room to see his gi and hakama thrown into a bloody heap on the floor, but upon taking a quick assessment of Kenshin, was relieved to find that the blood wasn't his.
"Well, at least let me wash your clothes before the blood sets it and becomes impossible to get out, ne? " Kenshin blinked slowly and then nodded his head, gathering the clothes and then handing it over to her, muttering a "douzo." She studied him for a few more moments, trying to discern the reason behind the strange look in Kenshin's eyes. She'd known that Kenshin always came back silent and withdrawn from his missions, but it had never been this bad, except on his first night on the job. What could have happened that would make him so…morose? There was definitely a look of self-hatred in those amber eyes, and Okami didn't like it one bit.
However, she had a job to take care of the other men in the inn, not only Kenshin, and that included finishing dinner. She would talk to Katsura about it, and hopefully get him to check up on Kenshin later, just to make sure the kid would be alright. With that thought in mind, she bowed, and then slid the shoji back in place, taking the dirty clothes with her to be washed.
Kenshin sighed deeply once he could no longer hear her footsteps, then took his katana from the shelf and slid down the wall, propping the weapon against his shoulder. His mind was swirling with hundreds of questions, none of which his weary mind could even fathom an answer to. He finally resigned himself to the exhaustion, and allowed himself to drift to sleep.
He stood in front of the two bodies of the man and boy he'd just murdered, their blood pooling at his feet, staining his zori. He turned around to leave the scene of the murder, but stopped when he felt a hand grab him at the ankle. He looked back in horror to see the samurai, Ryuu, holding his ankle in a death grip, with blood clotting his hair and dribbling out from his mouth.
"Why? Why did you kill my son? Why?"
"You—I—I killed you! You're dead!" Kenshin tried to shake the man off his leg but he simply wouldn't relent his grip on the hitokiri. "Let me go!"
"Why did you do it? Why?" The man persisted, his voice gurgled from the blood still coming out from his mouth. Finally Kenshin gave in, hoping that the man would go back to being dead once he gave him an answer.
"For the sake of the new era. I had to kill him so there would be no witnesses." He managed to say, hoping that would satisfy the man.
"…For a new era? You killed my only son for that?"
"I had to!" Kenshin struggled against the man, but he still refused to let go.
"You're nothing but a murderer! A heartless demon!" Ryuu cried, his gravelly voice piercing straight into the hitokiri's soul.
"No—no I'm not! I'm doing this for Japan! So that people can live in peace!"
"Do you really think you can bring about a new era by killing off the children meant to live in it? Huh?!"
"That…that's not what I…" Kenshin's voiced cracked, and he felt a lump forming in his throat.
"You're lower than the foulest criminal on earth. It's people like you who deserve to die like this, not innocent children."
"I…I don't…" Kenshin fell to his knees, his sword clattering onto the ground. He bent his head low, breathing deeply in and out, staring at the puddle of blood he was kneeling in.
"Hitokiri-san," Kenshin's blood ran cold when he heard the voice of the child.
"No…not you too…please…" Kenshin slowly looked up to see the cleaved form of the young boy, Souta. Half of him. "Oh kami-sama…" Kenshin's started dry heaving, the sight before him too gruesome for him to bare.
"Why did you kill me? All I wanted to do was to protect my father." Kenshin looked up at the boy once more, horrified to see that the figure had transformed into a young child with red hair and violet eyes. Kenshin's hand shook as he attempted to brush his bangs out of his eyes, his heart beating erratically as fear took a hold of him. The young boy cocked his head to the side, a sad expression on his face.
"All I wanted to do was protect them, even if it cost me my life." He lifted his finger to point at the hitokiri, who was on all fours, refusing to look up at his former self, Shinta.
"You killed me."
Kenshin's eyes snapped open with a start, and he gasped for air, his lungs suddenly unable to take in enough. He looked around the room frantically, sweat trailing down his face.
"It was only a dream…only…" He trailed off and attempted to calm himself down, his heart rate finally beginning to slow down. Bringing a trembling hand up to his forehead to wipe away the sweat from his brow, he sighed, the image of the bloodied corpses refusing to die burned forever in his mind.
Kenshin shut his eyes tightly, at that moment wishing for nothing else than to simply disappear into the shadow of the wall. He was a hitokiri, a killer. How could he possibly think that he would ever be anything more than that? He didn't know how many men he'd killed since becoming a hitokiri, but he remembered every one of their faces, their final expression before death claimed them etched into his memory. They called out to him in his dreams, wishing to damn him to the uttermost pits of hell. Tonight's nightmare had been worse, however. The bodies of men he could deal with, but the corpse of a child…
The hitokiri put his hand to his mouth, tasting bile in his throat, but trying desperately to keep it from coming out. His stomach felt as if it was twisting itself into knots, and he barely bit back a cry of pain. After about a minute, the nausea passed, and he leaned his head up against the wall, promising himself that he wouldn't fall asleep again. Any amount of exhaustion would be better than having to live through those nightmares once more.
You're nothing but a murderer! A heartless demon! A voice said.
"Stop it…stop." Kenshin whispered, putting his hands up to cup his ears.
Do you really think you can bring about a new era by killing off the children meant to live in it? Huh?!
"Shut up!" He clenched his eyes tighter and pushed down on his ears harder, tears of desperation starting to form in the corners of his eyes.
You're lower than the foulest criminal on earth.
He shook his head violently, the salty tears running down his face and dripping onto the floor.
It's people like you who deserve to die like this, not innocent children.
Kenshin slowly opened his eyes and he looked at the katana propped up against his shoulder, the weapon making a jingling sound as it was shaken by Kenshin's trembling hands.
Deserve to die.
Kenshin, as if he had been hypnotized, unsheathed the weapon and held it with his palms facing up, the moonlight reflecting off the perfectly polished blade. How could he ever hope to atone for what he'd done? There was no possible way to equivalent all of the lives lost to his blade, but at least…in exchange for his life the souls of those he'd murdered would cease their torment on him. It would be so easy to end it now, to leave this world forever. All he had to do was to slit it throat and he wait until he'd lost enough blood for his heart to stop. But no…that would be too easy a death for one such as he. Seppuku was a common way for samurai to end their lives, but even that would be too honorable a death. He was not a samurai, and didn't deserve to die the death of one either.
Impalement then? It seemed a probable alternative.
"But Katsura-san and Okami-san…what will they think?"
"They would be happier." A voice in his mind told him. "They've always been scared of you. That's the only reason they treat you with respect. Everyone would be happier if you were dead."
"…Yes. I must—"
"Himura-san? It's me." A male voice called from the hallway. "May I come in?"
"It's Katsura-san." "Yes." Kenshin said softly, sheathing the deadly blade for now. He slid open the door to reveal a tall, handsome man in a yukata, smiling warmly.
"Konbanwa." He bowed slightly, as did Kenshin, and then he entered the room, walking over to the window and peering outside into the garden. "It looks like the rain is finally letting up, ne? It's a good thing too, for the flowers wouldn't have survived if the battering had gone on much longer."
"Aa." The boy said absently, his mind still slightly confused at his commander's sudden appearance in his room.
"So," Katsura turned around to face his subordinate, his eyes softer. "How did your assignment go tonight?" Kenshin's eyes widened slightly, and then he lowered his head.
"It was completed." He answered, his voice low and devoid of all emotion. "Is that all?" Katsura winced slightly at the curtness of Kenshin's tone, but carried on as if nothing were wrong.
"Did something happen?"
"No." Katsura sighed inwardly. From the few months spent with the child, he'd realized that it was nearly impossible to get Kenshin to discuss something he didn't want to talk about. The hitokiri always kept a firm mask set in place, but today, he looked different. The mask was gone. Okami-san had sent him up to check on the boy, but it didn't seem like he would have any better luck than she'd had.
"Well then," Katsura began, "I guess if nothing's wrong, I'll be going."
"Sayonara." Kenshin said, almost too quickly.
"Jaa, Oyasuminasai Himura-san." He walked back over to the shoji to take his leave, sparing one final look at the hitokiri, noticing for the first time since their small conversation that his cheeks were wet. It may have just been from the rain, but…
"Will you be alright?" The question caught Kenshin off guard, and he looked up at his superior.
"…Yes, Daijoubu desu. Everything will be all right." And with that Kenshin bowed his head, sliding the shoji back in place, leaving a very confused Katsura to his thoughts. "I must do it now, before anyone else comes to interrupt." He picked up the katana that he'd set on the floor beside him, then unsheathed it slowly, examining the blade with a sort of sick fascination. "The blade used to end the lives of so many will now end the life of this worthless killer." He turned the blade around to point in to his abdomen, his hands gripping on the blade since it was too long to hold by the hilt. His wakizashi would have worked better, but he felt it a more fitting end to use the katana instead.
"Why are you hesitating?" That same voice in his mind told him. "Do it." The hitokiri's heart was beating faster now, and he started to feel nervous. Surely he couldn't be afraid of death.
"Die." The voice reminded him. Kenshin took a deep breath and shut his eyes, preparing for what he was about to do.
"Just die."
--
Katsura walked with his head low and brow furrowed in thought through the hallways of the inn, making his way back to his room. He couldn't say he was surprised to see Kenshin so depressed, especially after completing an assignment, but he'd never seen the boy fall this far. The boy had always kept his face an expressionless mask, with his feelings hidden to all the world. However, what he saw back there was not a mask, but the eyes of a boy who'd lost all hope and was wallowing in despair and self-hatred. And then, there had been those strange words he'd said just before sliding the shoji back in place. 'Everything will be alright.' What could the boy have been referring to?
Katsura sighed and turned a corner, mulling over Kenshin's words once more. He'd said 'sayonara,' not 'Oyasuminasai,' as was considered most appropriate. Why would Kenshin…?
"No…he wouldn't." Katsura stopped dead in his tracks, hoping to every kami out there that the kid wasn't desperate enough to try something like that. "I'm such an idiot! Of course that's what he's thinking!" Katsura turned around and ran back to Kenshin's room as fast as he could, praying to the gods that he wouldn't be too late.
Kenshin lifted the sword and was just about to plunge it into his stomach, when the door to his room slid open violently and Katsura came running in.
"NO!" Kenshin gasped in complete shock when he was pinned to the floor, the katana fallen out of his reach.
"K-Katsura-san—I—I—!" Kenshin stuttered, not even fully understanding what was happening.
"What the hell were you thinking?!" Katsura was panting, and still had Kenshin pinned to the floor. "You can never think that way. Never!"
"But—but I…" The boy was so confused, and could think of nothing to say. But suddenly, the realization of what he'd almost done hit him, and it hit hard.
"Katsura-san…" Kenshin said, a haunted expression on his face. "I…I almost…" He clenched his teeth and tensed his body, hoping that he could stop the sobs that threatened to wrench themselves from his throat. Katsura eased off of the boy, but kept a firm hand on his shoulder—a hand that Kenshin didn't shove off.
"It's okay Kenshin, it's okay." Katsura didn't even realize that he'd dropped the formality until after he'd said the boy's first name, but decided that it was most fitting to do so in this situation. The commander was pulled out of his thoughts when he hard a sob escape from Kenshin's throat. "Kenshin…" Without warning, the hitokiri buried his face in Katsura's chest, his cries muffled by the cloth of Katsura's yukata. Then he began shaking uncontrollably, letting himself cry for the first time in years.
Once Katsura's initial moment of shock had passed, he put his arms around Kenshin's slender frame and massaged his back, willing to do anything he could to help the child. It was Katsura's fault that Kenshin had resorted to this, and he would never be able to forgive himself if Kenshin had actually succeeded in his suicide attempt. If Kenshin wanted to leave his job as a hitokiri at anytime, Katsura would let him, despite the set back it would have for the revolution. Kenshin had been a great asset, but the revolution would not end if Kenshin stopped assassinations. However, he desperately wished that Kenshin would stay with the Ishin Shishi, and considering how honor bound the boy was, he most likely would.
But...that was not his concern right now. He'd worry about the future when the future came. For now, he would let Kenshin cry, and hope that someday the boy could heal, and find happiness in his life. Perhaps someday he'd find a sheath, to hold back his madness, and to show him that indeed, life was always worth living.
After all, in his words, as long as one was alive, it was never too late.
I can't believe I wrote all of this in less than two days, it must be a record for me. So, what did you think? Poor Kenshin…he always ends up going through some sort of mental or physical anguish in my stories. I'm a Kenshin torture lover, can't you tell? XD To tell the truth, I've had this story planned out since August, but I never took the time to actually write it. I hope I didn't make Katsura too OOC, but then again, him comforting Kenshin could have happened, right?
Please leave a review! ^_^
Glossary:
Douzo: Please (better translated as "here you are" in the way it is used here)
Tenchuu: "Heaven's Justice;" The belief that justice lay in the hands of the hitokiri
Zori: Japanese sandals made of tightly woven straw and velvet straps
Ki: A swordsman's aura/spirit
Gi: Japanese robe-style shirt, usually worn with a hakama
Hakama: Traditional Japanese clothing, similar to trousers
Yukata: Japanese summer garment, often worn to sleep in
Shishou: Master
Kami/Kami-sama: God/ Oh my God
Daijoubu desu: I'm fine
Ryu Tsui Sen: One of Kenshin's favorite moves from Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu; involves a downward stroke
Konbanwa: Good evening
Sayonara: Good-bye
Oyasuminasai: Good night
Jaa: Well then
Shoji: Japanese sliding door, made of rice paper
Wakizashi: A smaller sword worn by samurai, used as a backup
Daisho: The pair of swords worn by samurai; the katana and the wakizashi