DISCLAIMER: I donor own Soujiro…or and of the characters in the Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X anime series. I do own Jessie though. That little child is mine. Okay, this is a pathetic disclaimer…but whatever.
WARNING: Ok. I think it'll stay a PG-13, for violence, child-abuse (past and present), and adult situations.
NOTES: Ahh…I had originally planned on writing this fic concerning Soujiro's years with Shishio. I mean, what? He spent ten years with the crazed man; so all Soujiro fans must wonder what it must have been like. But, this fic is not only about Soujiro's past; it's also about his future. He leaves Shishio and goes off wandering, trying to find out the truth of life…his own truth. ::laughs:: So far all the Soujiro future fics I've read have him paired up with an original character or Misao. And it's always a girl, whom he will eventually fall in love with. And it's funny how I'm not into romances and everything, yet my favorite fic is a romance dealing with Soujiro!
But, this fic is different. Soujiro's whole issue is trying to make sense of 'protecting the weak', 'not killing'. As we all know, Shishio had imprinted on him the concept of 'the strong live and the weak die', and the young man was having problems with that (man those three episodes were the bomb!).
Also…what is thing that makes Soujiro's past, Kenshin's past, and even Sanosuke's past so tragic? Anyone care to guess? Hmm?
They were only children. Soujiro was what, 8 or 9 years old when he met Shishio and killed his family (though they deserved it). Soujiro was a child, one who should not have been abused and nearly killed by those who were supposed to love and protect him.
The saddest thing out there is when a child gets hurt. When they are abused by their own parents…kidnapped…killed. As a preschool teacher…it makes my blood run cold at the thought that something could happen to my little charges, and I cannot imagine how a parent who loved their child would feel if something ever happened to their precious ones.
But at least those children are loved…
What of the children who were never loved…like Soujiro…
This is for them.
WHEN THE RAIN FALLS ON THE OCEAN
"If what you say is true, then wouldn't you have done anything to prevent what had happened? If what you say is true, then why didn't you protect me?"
"What happened Soujiro?"
"No one protected me back then…back then, you didn't protect me!"
PART I
It was an unusually cold spring night, feeling more winter if anything. The ship rocked slightly, its boards groaning, as if trying to protest such treatment from nature. The masts were furled securely, and the decks were clean. The anchor was wedged tightly below in the dark waters, and ropes kept the ship connected to the docks of Osaka. After a long day of docking and unloading merchandise belonging to some wealthy Spaniard who lived in France, the weary sailors dispersed, looking for fun and relaxation at inns and pubs. Most of them had learned some words in Japanese, so that they could ask for very important things like "sake" and "onnas". None had returned to the ship, and probably wouldn't be back till morning. Even the Captain and his Mate had vacated the ship, choosing to go out and have fun (which they firmly believed they deserved), though they preferred to have the "onnas" return to the ship and go down to their cabins to have their private fun and games.
Of course, the ship was not left unguarded. Ten extremely sad and dejected men had been ordered to guard the ship and its merchandise. The only thing that kept them on the ship was the promise that next night they would be duty free. They were disgruntled, but then, there was the risk of getting caught and getting viciously flogged. It seemed "onnas" and "sake" weren't worth a good flogging.
But then, a night in the town did not have anything to do with the cabin boy, who was huddled against the main mast, a ratty wool blanket wrapped around his thin fragile looking shoulders. His body throbbing from a full day of cleaning and helping with the unloading, as well as a beating from the Mate after cracking one of the crates while helping with the unloading. The mate claimed that there were fragile goods from France in that crate.
The small figure shuddered and buried his nose between his knees. He knew that they were only importing clothing. And there was nothing fragile about clothing…at least that was his opinion, which obviously did not amount to anything. The boy let out a small whimper as he pressed on one of the welts on his back.
"Stop your sniveling!" Came a gruff and irritated voice from the right side of the deck. "The Mate didn't hit ya that hard."
The boy had the urge to bite back at the man that the welts from his previous beating hadn't even healed yet, so of course he was in even more pain. But he bit his lip and buried his nose deeper. As long as he kept silent they usually got bored of tormenting him.
"Shut yer trap! I don't need to hear your nasty voice! So shut up!"
"Shut up!"
"Quiet!"
"Are ye talking to me?!"
The boy looked up and nearly groaned. From the looks of things, the ten men were about to go for each other's throats. But he knew once fists were thrown, they would turn their wrath on him, after all, he was the one who had whimpered first.
This thought made him want to let out another whimper. He wanted to go back home. But home was far away, across the Pacific Ocean. Yet even home was not that much of a comforting thought. An orphan, he had spent his first six years in a dirty orphanage in Sacramento. After a vicious beating by one of the older gangs that dwelt within the walls of the orphanage, he had run away. Sneaking onto a train, he made it to the famous Redwoods. There he hid, stealing food, and making a nuisance of himself wherever he went. For a whole year he lived and survived on his own. Often times he would be caught stealing and thoroughly trashed, but he always managed to get away, determined to never get sent back to any orphanage.
Then one night he pick pocketed the wrong man. His had noticed that at night, men got drunk, therefore it was less likely that he'd get caught. But that night he had chosen his victim unwisely. As soon as his small fingers touched the big man's pocket, he was caught. A rough hand latching onto his wrist like a manacle yanked him up into the air. He had hung there petrified as he came face to face with a dirty beard and yellowed dirty teeth.
His name was Samuel Flemhard, Captain of the Lady Luck; a US merchant ship. The Captain had dragged the boy to the ship where the boy got his first flogging. He had been beaten with belts, clubs, and fists in his young life. At age seven his back tasted the whip. His screams falling on deaf ears.
He had lost consciousness during the flogging, and when he came to he found himself locked in a storage room on the ship. Beating at the door till his hands bled, the boy had finally curled into a corner and wept. His luck had run out, and he would surly die.
For days he stayed locked up, forgotten it seemed, for he felt when the ship left the sands of California. Near starvation, he was finally found by the Mate, who dragged him up to the decks, dunked him in a barrel of water, the dubbed him Cabin Boy. The good Captain having lost his memories of the boy had paid not attention. He remained uninterested in the boy as long as he was not drunk. When drunk the boy was his personal punching bag.
He didn't want anything to do with the ship and the cruel harsh men that sailed it. He was everyone's servant, doing what he was told to, if not, beaten. At first he cried and fought back, but when he remained silent they finished quicker and left him alone. Though, sometimes the Mate found his stony silence as defiance, and gave him an extra trashing.
The only thing he was thankful for was the fact they clothed him in decent clothes so that even though he was beaten, he looked like a sailor, and the food. He got less than all the men, but it was more that the orphanage ever gave him, and more than he could steal.
But those two things were not worth his freedom.
He had tried to runaway when they had docked in Mexico, but after a terrifying chase, had had been caught. His memories of the month after his attempted escape were hazy, but sometimes if he thought about too much he'd have nightmares that night.
Now, they were docked in Osaka, Japan, and the urge to flee was growing. He had a chance. The men were distracted…the Captain and Mate were somewhere in the city. Yet just thinking about the consequences of getting caught made the boy shiver in fear. He could not remember what happened the last time, but he knew he did not want it to happen again.
But deep inside he knew that one day, one unlucky day, he would finally be beaten to death. That was an even scarier thought.
The boy was yanked out of his thoughts when the first punch was flown. One of the sailors went crashing down next to the boy who stared with wide eyes at the blood that oozed from the scruffy man's nose and mouth. The man merely snarled and lunged at his fellow sailors. To the boy's even growing horror, he saw a pistol get pulled out. Jumping to his aching feet, he ducked behind the main mast just as a shot was fired. Seconds later, foreign shouting cold be heard from the streets near by, while ten men cursed each other and continued to try to kill each other.
And me!
That thought made the boy's decision. He did not want to die. He had a better chance out there then on the crazy ship. Standing up and dropping the ratty blanket down, the boy peered over at the brawling sailors. Biting his lip he sprinted to railing and climbed over, grabbing hold of one of the ropes tied to the docks, the boy hung upside-down with his hands and knees, and crawled like a sloth to the dock.
As he lifted himself onto firm ground another shot was fired, making him drop to his knees and cover his ears. Giving the ship a dirty look, the boy stood and started to run into a nearby alley, the cold wind blowing at his hair and clothes, his shoes making clonking noises as he ran.
Free free free free free free!!!!!!!!!
The boy let out a strangled laugh, stumbling slightly as he twisted and turned down the narrow roads. He ran by a few Japanese sailors who paid him not attention, and a couple of drunken English sounding sailors with their arms wrapped around Japanese women. No one noticed the fleeing, laughing boy.
Stopping, the boy took some time to breath. He lifted his head up to the sky, noticing the dark clouds, and familiar smell of the rain about to come. He blinked when he heard the distant thunder. It looked no different than the rainy skies of California. Yet when he dropped his gaze, the building and the people were totally different. He did not understand anything.
He felt very small and frightened, but he was resolved, no orphanages, and definitely no ships. He didn't need the beatings, he didn't need the people. He could take care of himself.
"BOY!!!"
The small boy's heart froze. With a small-frightened cry, he turned to find the Mate standing a few feet away, a frightened girl scurrying away from him. The Mate was a tall thin man, with dark gray eyes that were red as he stared down at the frightened boy. He took at step toward the boy, who was frozen in fear.
"What are you doing out here?! Huh? Trying to run away again? Huh?!"
The boy let out a small whimper as he was grabbed by his shoulder. He tried to shake his head, his mind racing to try to avoid the serious beating he was about to get.
"Didn't learn you lesson the first time, didn'tya?"
"I'm gonna teachya a lesson you won't forget!"
The Mate grabbed the boy by his hair, yanking him back toward the ship. The Mate's fuzzy yellow and red luck charm hit the boy's nose. He blinked. A faraway frightening memory of that luck charm hitting his face.
No…no…I'm scared…I'm scared…help me…someone…anyone…
Without thinking, the boy cried out and yanked back, clawing at the Mate's hand. Caught by surprise, the Mate jerked his hand away. But then he growled and cuffed the boy on his head, sending the boy crashing against some wooden bins. "Shut up! Little rat! Hehe…drew some blood there."
He waved his hand so that the boy could see the small bleeding scratch marks. The boy shrank back against the bins, his pupils' dialated in terror as the Mate pulled out a pistol and pointed it at him.
Above, lightning flashed, shortly followed by rumbling of thunder. Insanely, the boy thought, any minute now it's going to rain…any minute now…
"Well boy, look's like your luck has run out. There is no need for you on the ship anymore." He grinned, and aimed. "It's time to die."
The boy stared at the swinging luck charm, and softly whispered, "Someone…anyone…"
Suddenly the boy saw a dark blur hit the Mate, the flash of a blade, then the splattering of warm blood. The stared with wide unbelieving eyes, as the Mate fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood, the pistol falling with a clank to the floor. The luck charm lying beside his hand.
"Ichi ban?"
The soft voice pulled the boy's eyes away from the corpse. Slowly lifting his eyes, he found himself staring at a young Japanese man, holding a bloodied sword in one hand, and a white cloth in the other, wiping the blood of the blade. The young man's hair was dark brown, nearly black, and his eyes looked suspiciously blue. He lips were upturned in a smile.
With a trembling finger, the boy pointed at the Mate, "You…you killed him!"
The young man blinked in surprise. After a moment, he sheathed his blade, and knelt next to the boy. The boy flinched, frightened that this murdering, smiling, Japanese man would surly kill him too. But the man had saved him…
The young man looked at the boy, his smile becoming wider. "Korose?"
The boy shivered, not understanding what the man was saying. "Are…are you going to kill me?" he whispered.
The young man blinked again, then reached and patted his head. "Kawaii Gaijin!" He laughed. He then leaned forward and poked at the bruise forming under his eye. "Ichi ban, bouya?"
The boy pulled back, and knocked the offending hand away. "Ouch! Don't touch me! It hurts!"
The young man looked almost sympathetic. "Itai?" he pointed at bruise, this time not touching him.
The boy stared at the man. He slowly touched the bruise and winced, "Yes…it hurts…" He paused then haltingly said, "Itai."
The man looked surprised, his smile dropping for a moment. The smile reuturned, a different smile, a genuine smile. "Hai, hai."
He stood and stepped back. The boy looked up at the man, then slowly inched toward the dead Mate. He knew that there was no way he could ever go back to the ship. He would have to stay hidden for a very long time. Slowly, he reached to the Mate's hand and untangled the fuzzy luck charm. Pulling it away from the corpse, he pulled the string over his head and watched as the charm swung over his chest.
He turned to the young man, who was looking at him with curiosity. The boy pointed at the charm. "I've always liked it. Now I can have it. It will give me luck." He knew that the foreign young man did not understand him but he continued on, "Look at the pretty bright colors. The Mate wasn't a very nice man, so he doesn't need anything bright and pretty. He's dead, so he doesn't need any luck. I'm alive, I'm free, and I need luck."
He then realized that he hadn't thanked the man for saving him. He had no money to give him, and he did not want to touch the corpse again. He then looked down at his chest. Dejectedly, he took off the charm and offered it to the young man. "Since you killed a man, that is very bad luck. I think you'll need it more than me."
The young man looked slightly embarrassed and shook his head. "Iya, bouya." He looked about to say something else when the sound of voices came drifting near.
It then started to rain. A cold drizzle.
The boy jumped at the sound of the voices, giving the young man a terrified look. "Oh no! If they find us, we'll both be punished!"
The young man's head was turned toward the voices, but he nodded his head, saying, "Aa."
The boy then had another frightening thought. "Are you going to leave me?" Without realizing it, he reached and grasped the man's long flowing sleeve of his strange looking clothes.
The voices drifted away, and they both relaxed, both ignoring the rain as it drenched them. The young man looked down at the boy, then at his small hand. The smile was gone, replaced by a serious, almost sad looking face. Then he gently pulled his sleeve from the boy's grasp and stepped back.
The boy, thinking the man was going to abandon him, started to tremble, and involuntary tears rose and fell down his cheeks, mixing with the rain.
But then the man reached his hand to him, saying softly, "Namu Seta Soujiro."
"Wha…huh?" The boy stared at the hand.
Seeing his confusion, the young man pointed at himself and repeated, "Namu Seta Soujiro."
"Seta…Sou..jiro? Is that your name?"
"Hai…Na..me."
The boy blinked, then slowly said, "My…my name is…"
Boy. Rat. Child. Filth. Brat. Nothing.
The boy reached and took the young man's hand. The young man smiled and gripped the boy's smaller hand in his gently. The man turned, and guided the boy away from the corpse. They walked in silence, away from the ship and the abusive sailors. Away from the pain and fear. Away from home in California and it's giant Redwood.
But that was okay. The strange young man had saved him, and was now holding his hand. Saving him…protecting him.
The boy looked up at the young man and grinned. "Jessie!" he said almost cheerfully.
The young man looked down at him in surprise. "Nani?"
The boy pointed at himself and said proudly, "My name. It's Jessie. Jessie Richards! Call me Jessie!"
The young man nodded his head, smiling gently. "Hai, Jessie. Hai."
Jessie nodded his head, squeezing the other's hand. "That's right!"
My name is Jessie…
And your name is Seta Soujiro…
As long as you protect me…
Likewise I'll protect you.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Well…how was it? Jessie's personality doesn't come out much in this chapter, and neither does Soujiro's. Don't worry, their different personalities will start showing in the next chapter. I'm still not sure what kind of personality Jessie is going to have yet. Just one thing for certain: The boy is extremely loyal to those who are kind to him. Anyone who comes off as mean to him he will dislike. ::grins:: just thought of the Jessie meeting Hiko or Saito. But Jessie has already sort of bonded himself to Soujiro, and Soujiro still has issues.
Among them is that he's worried that he'll become like Shishio.
Also they will have some trouble because of the whole language barrier thing. It's kinda hard for me cause I don't know Japanese, just a few words here and there. So if I have made any mistakes so far...hehe…you guys out there can be nice and tell me what are the right words to use? Or if I even the used the right words for the situations.
^-^
Any questions, comments, advise…please e-mail me:
Sarlinia@hotmail.com
Alright! Lets see how long it takes me to get the next chapter out!