(Grasping the Past)
Author's Notes
Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or the characters in it. They are used with no intention of self-gain and without the permission of the genius Nobuhiro Watsuki.
Spoiler warning: This fic contains spoilers from the entire Jinchuu and Kyoto Arch of the manga. However, as it is a 'what if' fic, events played out may not be completely accurate or according.
PG-13: This fic contains blood, angst and death. Please only read this if you can handle it and are not disgusted by text of gruesome deeds writing out before you.
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---==[[// Joshou \\]]==---
That smell… His eyes flew open in as the familiar aroma filled his nostrils, his hand jerked back in a futile attempt to stop his blade from slicing through the figure in front of him.
…Haku Bai Kou- He stared at empty nothingness, knowing what was there without looking, as blood spurted and splattered his face and the snow covered ground, ignoring the stinging sensation of cold steel cutting through his left cheek, creating a perfect X on his face as the tantou once in her hand glided through the cold. He gaped in horror and tried to gasp, but his voice caught in his throat. The dagger fell to the ground, its blood stained blade smearing the liquid on the snow white ground, but he took little notice of it as the figures collapsed.
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Joshou - Prologue
Haku Bai Kou - White plum perfume
Tantou - dagger
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He dropped to one knee in front of the fallen figure in front of him, cradling her upper body in his arms, crystal tears forming in his eyes as he fought an onslaught of emotion. His throat was dry, eyes burning and nose tingling. He could almost feel the silken drop of water slide down his pale skin. Almost…
"Tomoe…" he whispered, choking on the hot tears. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat and continued in a harsh wavering voice. "Tomoe… Why… Why…" He looked down at her, his vision blurring as the tears clouded his vision, yet he could still see her gaze meet his. She drew a labored breath as she reached out and lightly grazed his cheek, her touch feathery and cold. Her eyes closed and she smiled through the tears forming, gasping out her final words a trembling voice, filled, for the first time, with bursting emotion and passion.
"It's going to be alright… so please don't cry…" A chill swept through the clearing, and it was not the bitter winter wind… It was the chill that the hitokiri was all too familiar with… the chill that made his insides go numb and his whole being cold. It was the chill of death…
"-To…mo…e," his eyes widened and his tears flowed, mixing with the blood on his cheek. The hitokiri did not even notice the stinging pain as panic swept through his being. "TOMOE!!" His grip tightened on her shoulder as if trying to stop her from dying, to stop her soul from parting her body. To stop her breath from ceasing. To stop himself from losing the woman he loved…
He pulled her close to his body, but felt no breath, no heartbeat, and he knew that she had reached the end of her journey. His experience as a hitokiri had told him that even as his blade touched her skin. Before she'd even started drawing her last few breaths. But no…
It couldn't be true… It just couldn't. How could an innocent woman die? He should be the one who died. He deserved it after all those lives he took, the pain and anguish he caused to loved ones of his victims. So why her? Why did Tomoe have to die? Why? Squeezing his eyes shut, he clutched her icy cold, lifeless body to his chest, clenching his teeth as he surrendered to the anguish and tears that followed. He deserved it anyway. But not her. Never her. So… why…?
No…