Hey, for those of you who have read my original work, S.C.A.R.S. under the miscellaneous category and then in the crossovers genre, thanks for the reviews. I'm glad to see people actually responding even if it's only one or two people.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin. I wish I did though.

Legendary Men, Legendary Secrets

The year is 1867 during the Bakamatsu in Kyoto. Himura Kenshin has gained the title of Hitokiri Battosai and the bloody rain has begun to flow like a waterfall. He wields the ancient Sengoku era sword discipline known as Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, making him a nightmare feared by the most valiant of men. But what of other swordsmen and women not recorded in the annals of Japan's history? This is their tale.

He sat in the tavern, two bottles of sake gone to the world. It made him sick to his stomach. Cho Shuka Bai was his favorite brew yet he couldn't taste a single drop. The young woman accompanying him hadn't improved his mood either. It wasn't because she lacked in grace or beauty. Quite the opposite was true of her. She wore her hair as a traditional miko did. Her deep scarlet hair gave her the illusion of the legendary manslayer when her back was to the observer. Golden eyes mixed with a hint of honey color made her exotic.

It went without saying that he was lucky to have her as more than an ordinary friend. A daisho sat beside her on her seat at the old table. She wore a dark black hakama with a maroon gi, allowing her to mix well in the darkness.

He was similarly dressed in the same hakama and a blood red gi. His black haori held only one feature that made it distinct. A small emblem embroidered at the top of the collar in the middle of the back. It depicted an illuminated firebird in red thread and a small gem for its eye. He didn't carry a daisho like his lover, but dual katana forged by a long lost sword smith. They were his family heirloom and were superior to the famed Nagosone Kotetsu. A small sigh turned his attention back to the table.

"Eh? What's wrong?" she looked tired and depressed. They had been avoiding both the Ishin Shishi and the Shogunate for weeks and the lack of sorely needed sleep was taking its toll.

They knew each other well enough to not need words to speak, but it only helped break the graveyard silence. Another bottle of sake came to their table and the woman spoke while she poured another saucer full for herself.

"This rain is depressing and the fact that both Shogunate and Ishin Shishi are out to try and recruit us is making me sick. We have to leave Kyoto. I can't take it anymore. I can't stand to see him keep on going like this. Not after that woman's death."

Her consort looked at her with a sad smile. He knew all too well who she was talking about. It had been painful to just sit back a watch as a man cut down his own wife to slay the man who took her hostage in the first place. However painful though, they had chosen not to intervene even though they could have done so that cold winter day.

The teachings of Hiten Mitsurugi were ingrained into her unlike her counterpart, who had left according to her before they had completed the training. Even though she had stayed on longer than him, she too eventually left the mountain after a heated agruement much like his 'baka deshi' as he like to put it.

After she had left the mountain, she kept in close contact with her former master.

It wasn't until recently that she had learned just what it meant to kill a man.Her first kill, though it had been in self defense, had sickened her to the point of vomitting.It was at that point, that she had met Katsumori, a self taught swordsman who didn't care who won or lost the revolution.

Honestly, she had no idea why she followed him around other than his outlook on life. It closely resembled Hiten Mitsurugi's neutrality outlook. But it wasn't the same. He simply killed whoever was standing against him. If they didn'tbother him he didn't care.

As for her master, he had never met him face to face, but one thing was certain, he didn't want to.

"Rain never lasts forever, but the blood soaked nights will continue no matter how many times it will wash the dead away." She nodded. Picking up the sake she offered him, he drank it down. The small burning sensation didn't help, he just couldn't taste it.

Laying down the money to pay for their drinks he stood up and placed his swords back in the straps on his hakama. The red head delayed, not moving from the spot. He sensed her ki flare and prepared for the worst.

"Katsumori-san, sorry but we've got company."

He turned his head around to look at what she pointed at. Three men stood with swords drawn, light blue haori with white triangle patterns at the ends of the sleeves screamed their identity. Katsumori cursed under his breath.

Damn, more Shinsengumi? Katsumori stepped aside to let his lady stand up. The room was tense.

All of the customers had quickly left their seats and fled the building. The patrons had swiftly gone to the back of the inn. He kept his hand on his katana, but didn't draw. He wanted answers first. The one in the middle looked too young to be wielding a blade.

He was child like, and held an innocent countenance which hid a underlying ruthlessness once blades clashed.

Just what I don't need; the first squad leader himself, Okita.

The bustling sound of more men behind him didn't help his nerves. A faint click of a sword exiting its sheath caught his ear. Releasing a heavy sigh he set himself.

I guess we'll have to slash through once again. Gods what have I done to deserve such spite?

"Tell Okita-san, why do you come at us with a naked blade? Have we done something against you?" the boy prodigy of the sword grinned, the blade up and ready to strike.

"No, not really."

They were the only words spoken before blades rang.

Hardly anyone saw the swords of Okita and Katsumori when the two samurai collided. The rest of the squad swarmed the two lone swordsmen, trying to gain the upper hand. While Okita had help from his squad, he still couldn't believe the tenacity and skill of his opponent. Katsu had brought his other katana into play and was felling opponents left and right. The swords were slick with blood yet every cut remained sharp and clean.

He finally saw the reason and drew back several paces, his men following suit. The other half of the squad had backed off from the female. The pair hardly had a drop of blood on their clothes. Katsu swung his swords down, slinging the blood off the dimly shining blades.

How could he have not seen it? Katsu had been sliding the flat of the blade across his opponent, wiping the blood off of the blade before flipping it sideways and continuing the cut. It effectively made the blade cut perfectly every time, but to perform that at such breakneck speed was impossible. Thinking about it couldn't be done. He was feeling it as he went. Okita looked at his squad's status and his jaw went slack.

The entire number of dead unit members weren't the one's facing Katsu, but his feminine counterpart. Everyone who faced Katsu had nicks and shallow, painful cuts that would leave scars. they wouldn't die, unless they stayed and fought on. He had been playing with the soldiers, slowly and methodically bleeding them to death. Not her though, she cleaved through sword and soul without thinking.

He had heard the rumors of a woman Battosai, but he had never faced her personally until now. Dead bodies with blades broken in two lay prostrate at her feet. Her sword was wet with the life sustaining vitae of her opponents.

It wasn't anything that the combatants hadn't seen before, but her lack of emotions scared him. Hitokiri Battosai had a fury in his eyes that this woman lacked, all he saw there was pity. Okita drew up his sword again. He would finish this one on one. Katsu noticed the first unit captain's intention and tapped the woman on the shoulder softly. She sheathed the blade after wiping it off with the sleeve of a fallen swordsman.

"So, you intend to end this in a solo duel? Are you so sure that you can do that with your condition?"

Okita hesitated. The only person who knew of his disease was Hajime Saito of the third unit. How did this man know? Katsu took his opportunity and dashed past the woman and into the surprised men she had faced.A shower ofcrimson rained down from the men he slashed through, heads coming clean off their shouldersas some unfortunate ones were caught in his whirling dash of steel.

"Yanagi-san! Come on!" She stood there a moment before following her companion through the remaining Shinsengumi and into the open streets at a speed that left them speechless. Realizing his loss, Okita dashed outside, hoping to catch at least a glimpse of their escape path to give pursuit but found nothing.

Who are they? That man is too observant and the woman moves just like the Battosai. I need to report this. He caught himself before a fit of coughing took him. He glanced down, blood covered his gauntleted hand. Damn, I don't have a lot of time, need to rest.

Wow, I know that was short. Sorry, but more details about Katsumori and Yanagi will come in the next few chapters, I promise. Tell me how I do as each chapter comes out. Constructive criticisms please! No flames. Flames won't help this fic get better, the other will though!