Title: Kokoro ni tsuite iku (Follow your heart)
Author: RK Otaku
Genre: Action/ Adventure/ Romance
Rating: T
Summary: Years after the incident that changed his life, Seta Soujirou still searches for an answer when he is whisked into adventure by a mysterious stranger, fighting against a gang of deadly yakuza.
Disclaimer: This fanfiction is written for entertainment purposes only, not for a profit. Rurouni Kenshin doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Watsuki Nobuhiro, Shueisha, Sony & Jump comics.
Spring, 13th year of Meiji (1881)
Prologue
A Life So Changed.
Sono kawatta seikatsu…
The spring that year was pleasant so far. It was the season for joy, for festivities. A time to celebrate the beauty of nature after the harsh winter had abandoned her icy clutches on the land. Warm breezes blew gently across the fields, melting away the last snows. The countryside was alive with jade-coloured trees swaying soothingly with the zephyr, the lingering scent of honeysuckle in the air and the cheerful song of the birds that floated through the surroundings. All in all, everything was in harmony with nature.
Farming families across the villages were engaged in preparing for the planting season ahead. They shook out their folded- away yukatas reserved for the mild weather and dusted out the implements that had been stored away for the winter. Their little children leaned on the picket fences, chattering away with their comrades- some of innocent dreams, some of boastful deeds.
In fact, they were so engrossed in their own carrying-ons that no one noticed the young man walking along the dirt path. Or even if they did, nobody heeded him. It was common for travelers to walk these roads in the season, although he was undertaking his journey rather early in the spring. When all's said and done, he was fairly inconspicuous.
The traveler trudged along at a leisurely pace, occasionally stopping to take in the beauty of the vista, as if he wasn't in a hurry to reach his destination. He had a peaceful, serene look on his face, almost like one of the monks that wandered by. But surely, he was too young to be one. He looked windswept and travel- weary, although the spring in his step belied the miles he had passed. His garments were dusty and well- worn, his sky- blue gi was thinning at the shoulders, the area near the knees of his hakama was patched. It did not take an experienced eye to note that his tabi was darned at places with an inexpert hand.
The said youth, because of his threadbare appearance, aroused the sympathy of most that he met. He seemed gentle and unassuming, with an ever-present smile, but nobody could bring himself to test that theory out. The katana, which hung from his obi effectively kept away peoples' advances- friendly or otherwise.
He was slim in built, his thin stature often mistaken by well- meaning fellow- travelers and ruffians alike for ill- health. However, his slenderness could be attributed not to malnutrition, but to the lean muscular form that is honed by practicing the deadly forms of the sword for years.
He was obviously in good vigour, the ragged clothes did little to diminish the bloom of health from his cheeks. Indeed, the past two years had been kind to Seta Soujirou. A wanderer's life had suited him extremely well. It gave him an opportunity to see the world in a whole new light- like through the eyes of a child. As if the Tenken had never existed. But a child he was not. Maybe he had been once in body, though never in mind.
He inhaled deeply, letting the clear air fill his nostrils. His unclouded blue eyes surveyed his surrounding, his mind processing the information. He was somewhere in the outskirts of the village. He continued walking, keeping time with the jingle of the paltry few coins in his purse.
On leaving his life as the Tenken behind, he had made his way east. From there he had wandered the country, halting only to rest at night. Of course, during the course of two years he had avoided some places. The obvious ones being the cities of Tokyo and Kyoto. He was not ready to step into the streets of Kyoto, and being in Tokyo, his hometown brought in its wake a casket-full of bad memories he was not prepared to open as yet. He spent the winter months down south… Northern Japan was notoriously frigid in the winter months, and more often than not he slept outdoors.
The days passed as rapidly as did the changing seasons. Life was a wonderful adventure. He didn't know when he was going to find the 'truth', but there was no haste. He had the rest of his life devoted to precisely that thing.
His musings were suddenly interrupted by the patter of feet. His body tensed in readiness, his fingers instinctively reaching for the katana. Someone was approaching. His eyes registered a burst of yellow rushing at him from the horizon. For an immeasurable moment, their eyes locked. Clear blue met a warm brown.
It was a girl. Dressed in a tattered yellow gi and white hakama which bordered on the verge of murky brown, the thing that caught his adept eye almost immediately was the bloody gash slicing down from her left shoulder, leaving her person randomly flecked with drops of red. Her hair was twisted back, a few stray tendrils framing her mud- streaked adolescent face. In her eyes was raw panic; they were frantically darting around for something.
Soujirou jerked his head up. They had company. This time it wasn't the terror- stricken hurried feet of a frightened girl, but the silent ominous footfalls of people he had dealt with all his life. The swift march of men carrying weapons. As if being able to read minds, he watched the girl dive into a clump of bushes from the corner of his eye.
Sure enough, a moment later a group of four heavy-set men appeared on his left side. They were tall and broad, their jaws set at a determined angle. Each was armed with a nihontou thrown almost carelessly across his shoulder. A traditional tanto protruded from their obi; they walked around with the practiced ease of someone who is accustomed to this kind of situation. His gut clenched. Yakuza.
" Ronin", one of them stepped forward lazily, eyeing his sword with a mad glint in his eye. " You seen a wench coming this way". It wasn't a question.
Discreetly, so as not to alert the men, Soujirou' s eyes settled on the girl hiding in the bushes. Her wide orbs had lost that panicked look. Instead now they wore the appearance of a lamb awaiting its slaughter. As if resigned to her fate, but yet wildly wanting to get free. Innocent. Imploring him not to speak. Asking him to protect her.
Protect her.
The words flashed in his mind like a bolt of lightening. He opened his mouth to speak, his mind made up.
"No. I haven't seen anybody come this way. Now if you would kindly excuse me, I have to be on my way". He said it with a pleasant smile on his face, his tone polite, as if hoping that his former strategy wouldn't give away anything to the thugs. He made a move forward as though to carry on with his journey, but let himself be stopped by the second man idly chewing on a piece of stick. They were not pleased.
" Don't lie, pup. Or is the little weakling your whore?"
Weakling. Weak. If you are strong you will live, if you are weak you will die. That is the law of nature boy, and you can't change it.
The words reverberated through his brain. More than the obvious insult aimed at him, the echoes in his mind caused him to take his left foot back in a battle stance. Shishio- sama's words, his childhood philosophy was haunting him with a vengeance. No. Not now. No more.
" I remember telling you to leave me alone. Before I do something all of us will repent".
The voice was back again, still soft in tone, only this time it carried the steely edge of barely controlled violence. For a moment he thought he succeeded. They looked like they were about to turn away. But then they all unsheathed their katana, the afternoon sun glinting their deadly edges silver. Time stood still. Neither party moved. The wind blew by, caressing their faces one last time before the brutality of a duel marred their features.
Do it. Now. A voice urged him to. Defend her. In a split second his will was set. The draw was theirs. They had made their decision. Now he must make his.
For a moment, he was flying. Like the wind from the heavens. The men didn't even have time to react as his katana cleaved through them effortlessly, slicing at their flesh. One by one they fell, looks of dazed incomprehension on their faces as the light left their eyes. Then nothingness.
The ex- hitokiri looked around. His eyes were no longer the bright blue. It had been the only way. Swift. Painless. It was not necessary for the onlooker to see the gore. The violence that normally accompanied most fights. He studied his bloodied katana for a moment, before wordlessly performing the chiburi. Flicking off the excess blood from it as he had done countless times already.
He turned around to search for the girl. In all common sense she should have taken to her heels by now, but he didn't hear anything during the confrontation. He located her form, curled up under the thick growth. Probably scared.
When he finally got to her, his breath caught. His lips almost curved in a wry smile. She lay tucked in a tight ball, her eyes closed. Her expression was peaceful.
She had fainted.
Tsuzuku….
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Japanese glossaryYukata- a light robe worn during summer & spring
Gi- the upper garment that was contemporary to men in the Meiji era.
Hakama- the flared, trouser- like garment. What Kaoru wears for kendo practice.
Katana- Japanese long sword
Nihontou- Japanese sword
Tanto- Japanese dagger
Yakuza- Gangsters
Tabi- socks, but with a split toe
Obi- Belt, normally a piece of cloth tied around the waist by swordsmen to hold their swords.
Tenken- lit. Heaven's Sword. A title given to Soujirou when he worked for Shishio
sama- Sama- Lord/ Lady. A form of address showing respect to anyone superior.
Hitokiri- lit. Man cutter. An assassin.
Ronin- Masterless samurai
Chiburi- A technique used by swordsmen after a duel. They flick the blood from their swords before resheathing them.
Tsuzuku- to continue.
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Read & Review onegai!
Author's note: It's been just two years since Soujirou started wandering, so sorry if he doesn't sound mature/ improved enough. He's still learning the ways of the world through non- Tenken eyes, if you know what I mean.
Please send in your suggestions on this fic. Constructive criticism accepted, just do it nicely.
So onto chp 1….