Author's Notes: For those familiar with my other fanfics, this summary may ring a bell. This situation is mentioned in my 'Hold on to your truth', written precisely 1 year and 3 days ago. However, this fic as well as all others can be fully understood as stand alones. Small references to Aku no Kioku spinoff manga and my 'Ruined Creation' fanfic.
Written to Palladio covered by Escala again, Sarabande too, and The Quantum Enigma album by Epica again. And to a very loud Victims of Contingency because it was 6AM when I finished this.
EDIT: Alekssi translated this to Russian! How awesome is that! If you want to, you can read it here: ficbook -dot- net /readfic/4274276 Spasibo :) (replace the -dot- for . and remove the spaces please)
Disclaimer: I don't own Soujirou or Rurouni Kenshin. Watsuki Nobuhiro does.
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1869
Aftermath of the Storm
They had been walking for a very long time now, but it barely registered in Soujirou's mind. How odd. It was like drifting, gently, calmly, in an unclear mist. It was cold, but it didn't register either.
It was very peaceful.
A flash scourged the sky, a clear but dim light that came from behind the clouds. The nice, yet slightly odd wet scent of drenched earth intensified, and Soujirou breathed in silently. It was really nice. He wondered for a moment if he had fallen asleep while walking and was now dreaming. There was something unreal, suspended, too calm about everything.
"The storm is coming back. We should find shelter."
Shishio-san.
Soujirou rubbed his hands together, the chilly air apparently clawing its way to him at last now that Shishio-san had spoken. Sniffing shortly and breathing out to his palms in an attempt to warm himself a bit, he noticed the heavy metallic scent that filled his nose. He blinked in confusion and looked down. Oh, the blood. The rain didn't wash everything away, just smudged everything into his skin.
He remembered how the blood spilled onto him, mixing with the rain that didn't remove the red but rather became one with it as it soaked his tattered clothes, his hair and his skin. Like the corpses on the ground were bloody and rainy, drained out and drenched at the same time.
Funny.
He smiled gently and rubbed his hands again, looking past them into the ground. His body was getting a bit tired, the muscles heavy and slightly stiff and aching from the continuous straining of the past hours. It would feel nice to rest if they could, however he was sure he would be able to continue walking for a longer while. He'd rest either way.
"You're still soaked," Shishio-san pointed out. "Blood and water alike."
Soujirou sniffed and smiled again, shaking his head. The wind made his eyes itch slightly, and he tried to numb it with the hem of his gi. Maybe he smudged a bit of dry blood out, or just smudged some more onto him.
"It's no problem at all."
A new, strong and growling thunder holwed from above. Soujirou looked up, the sound bringing up the image of blood and corpses to his mind. He thought it was starting to rain already, but the rain wasn't falling.
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1883
Present time
"Rurou-chan! Rurou-chan, come play with us!" the small choir of children repeated for the second time. Their energy was contagious, a sense of joy that made him smile and feel... lighter?. His chest certainly felt unburdened, yet somehow filled with something nice. It was joy, most likely, and made him smile.
"Rurou-chan!" the youngest of the group, a bouncing four year old boy, was the first to pick up a name for him. Listening it for the first time had made him giggle, and frankly, he blushed lightly at being called 'rurouni'. Not the first time since his wanderings began, but the first time by such a small and genuine voice. It felt like being welcomed fondly by a family member he never knew he had. Children had always been so kind to him throughout the past years.
"Come on! Come on Rurou-chan!" a pair of twin boys jumped in a hype, amusingly reminiscent of the two playful little girls he had once met what seemed like a lifetime ago.
"Rurou-chan! I'll be the Oni-san!" a young girl echoed, barely past seven years old and with a round rosy face. She too reminded him of someone he had once played Oni with, though even more distant in time.
Soujirou wondered how Akari and Kagari were doing, after all these years. They still remained inprinted in his memory as two adorable Ichimatsu-like dolls, but they ought to be adult young ladies by now! He wondered if he'd ever see them again, and if they would recognize him. Had he changed too much in appearance? He doubted it.
He didn't need to wonder about the boy with the round rosy face from his past, though. Soujirou didn't ignore the weight that quietly creeped through the lighthearted feelings from before; rather, he acknowledged it and let the sting of shame and guilt linger for a little longer. What would that boy from the past have become, if he had been left alive?
He still thought of the people he killed, until he realized the two children brought the most guilt and affected him the most. Would they ever be able to forgive him, if they had the chance? Himura-san never took the life of children, did he? Would there ever be a way to atone for those particular deaths, amidst the hundreds he was responsible for?
Guilt tasted bitter, tightening around his throat and leaving a trace of choking tears in the corner his eyes. A taste and a feeling slightly numbing and painful. He'd rather have it gone, replaced by something pleasant and warm, but should he really do that? It seemed... very easy to try to let go. He could understand it, the unconscious decision he had made before. It was hard to face everything. It was painful, and scary.
He didn't want to make that decision now. But he usually acknowledged its lurking presence, always close to him like a floating reminder. Soujirou did his best to ignore it - he started by categorizing the feelings and emotions in a way other people would have no need for, uncounsciously bound to them since children. By observing other people's reactions, he started trying to describe them to himself in a way he could make sense of it.
It had helped; it had stopped him from being overwhelmed by emotions he had no understanding or control of. It taught him how to describe the feelings, how they applied. How happiness and joy felt in contrast to guilt and fear, what situations each emotion was to be called for. Each had their purpose, and he didn't want to ignore any; not anymore. Eventually, slowly, those emotions and feelings started to appear without him realizing, spontaneous, like they had grown on their own, sometimes bringing definition to other new feelings. He took it a good sign that brought a sense of pride for himself. All that was better than the numbness.
Fear was the hardest to deal with. It was the easiest to be felt, and the easiest to bring the reminder back to his mind.
The four year old brought him back to his senses as he jumped through the air onto his hakama pants, lodging himself around Soujirou's leg with bright eyes looking up.
"Rurou-chaaaaaaan! Please!"
Soujirou blinked twice and the laugh he let out dissolved the sting and pain.
"Nori-chan, that was impressive! You'll be a master of jumping when you grow up!"
"I can do that too!" One of the children cheered immediately. "Look, look at me!"
"Come oooon, please! Let's play!"
"Leave the young man for a moment, all of you!" an elderly woman rebuked, coming by the corner of a house. "And thank you," she added when Soujirou immediately rushed to help her carry a heavy pot nearly her size.
"There's no problem at all," Soujirou told her.
"Rurou-chan!"
"I'll just finish helping, all right? Then we'll play a little."
"Tsk tsk, children... they're losing their manners," the elder insisted, waving her head.
"Really, there's no problem!"
"We appreciate any and all help, young man, but those boys and that little girl are as untamable as wild bears. Once they get you into start playing, we won't be seeing you in the celebration again. And your strong young body is a big help."
"I'm sure everything can work out," Soujirou smiled again, a slight heavy breathing from the weight of the pot filled with food. How could the old lady carry it alone, was a mystery. Two men about his age passed by and greeted them, each carrying their own pots.
Soujirou was happy to have remained in the village for a couple more nights. He was on his way north again, just like the beginning of his wandering, but stopped before continuing to Akita and realized a matsuri was in preparation. His help was very appreciated, and he glad to stay. The owner of the only inn of the village had accepted his work in the festivities as payment, even though Soujirou did have money with him. People were mostly kind to him, not minding to know what he had been before. They would greet him just like the two men that passed by.
The Meiji Government still hunted him, but in their effort to bury Shishio-sama's existance, Soujirou wasn't prosecuted openly and his face wasn't known. Since little people would have imagined the top assassin of the Juppongatana to abandon killing altogether, Soujirou had yet to find any real problems with police forces. This village would be the last place someone would imagine him in.
It was a happy night. There was music, beautiful painted paper laterns and delicious food, entwined with a constant pleasant clatter. Even though Soujirou felt like he was drifting past it, trying to grasp everything as he played tag with the children, he did get to taste some of the food. There was one shy lady that offered to serve him sake, but the little girl stole his attention back. He didn't mind as some people looked at him a bit surprised or slightly disapproved at how much fun he had playing with the children (whom were indeed endlessly energetic). He let 'The Untamable Nori-sama' beat him in a race, much to the child's delight.
A young woman wearing a blue kimono approached them at a certain point, watching them in their play and smiling at the stumbles and triumphs of the children. Soujirou greeted her with a little bow, to which she replied with a small smile, before excusing himself and avoiding the leap of one of the twins.
"You're too fast, Rurou-chan!"
"I am not! You've all caught me already!"
"You have a lot of patience for these children, rurouni-san," the girl in blue said lowly. "Do you have young siblings?"
"No, no. I only had an older brother," Soujirou replied between another swirl on his heels. She nodded in acknowledgement, her hands clasped.
"I'm... I'm helping with the food, do you want me to get you something? Or maybe I could serve you some sake?"
"Thank you, but I think I should admit I have never tried sake before."
The young woman blinked, genuinely surprised.
"You haven't? I'm surprised, I... How..." Soujirou had the slight impression she was wondering about his age, and that by some reason made him smile widely. Yumi-san had wondered about his age at a certain point too. He probably always did look a bit too younger than he should.
"Ooooh Tamiko-san is in love!" the round-face girl bellowed out of nowhere, much to the young woman's embarrassment.
"That was not very nice of you, Saya-chan," Soujirou commented joyfully, although Saya didn't seemed too worried by her possible rudeness. He turned back to the girl in blue. "But I'll remember to try it later, Tamiko-san, thank you."
Tamiko-san blushed, hands clasped harder.
Through the music, there seemed to be some sort of altercation. The voices seemed a bit too loud, but it was hard to tell if there was some jest or something different. Soujirou tried to turn his head to the noise and see if there was any problem, however the distraction caused little Saya to catch him and it was his time to play tag. He purposefully took his time running after the children, scattering them through the field and the twins disappeared through the crowd. Soujirou then ambushed The Untamable Nori-sama, who succumbed to being caught with a theatrical war cry.
"Run from the ghost of The Untamable Nori-sama!" the small boy roared in his baby voice. Saya shrieked and darted away, running to hide amongst the people, with Nori-chan following her. "Rurou-chan, come come!"
Tamiko-san giggled at the children then, covering her mouth. With the youngsters hiding and running in the crowd, the loud voices from earlier became clearer again.
"Is everything alright?" Soujirou asked, even though it was unlikely the blue-clad girl knew what was happening.
"Don't mind him," Tamiko-san said, shrugging gently. Her smile faded. "My father drinks too much."
"Oh," that was all Soujirou managed to babble before Nori-chan returned and got hold of him, pulling his hand fiercely and making him spin ungracefully.
"Eiji-san is acting silly again?" Nori-chan asked, his manners as untamable as he was. This time the girl didn't seem to mind though, and just shrugged again. "I want to see!"
"Nori-chan," she tried, but the boy had already ran away, forgetting to carry Soujirou with him. "Those children... they never listen. They always find my father funny when he's drunk."
"You seem worried about it," Soujirou pointed out, he himself feeling worried by an unconscious reflex.
"I'm not worried." She lied.
"Maybe someone has helped your father go rest," Soujirou tried, thinking of words that would make the blue-clad girl feel better.
"When he brings his sword to show off, everyone just let's him lash out until he bores himself," Tamiko-san said, with another shrug. He did remember how drunkenness and sword playing were a bad combination.
"That's not the wisest course of action," he let the words out without thinking this time. As if on cue, the loud voices seemed to peak through. There was certainly something happening, and from Tamiko-san's worry, it just might be something bad. "If there's trouble, I can try to help and carry him home. Do you mind coming with me, in case it really is best for him to rest?"
"N-No, there's no need for that, rurouni-san," she blinked and then shaked her head.
"Soujirou," he said without thinking again. He did catch the sound of his words right after he said them, but found it wouldn't be troublesome. "Maybe it's nothing, but we should go see either way."
She still seemed surprised, but she followed Soujirou as he passed by the people towards where the comotion seemed to be. Soujirou caught some whispered displeasured comments as some heads turned to him as he approached. For a moment, he wasn't sure if the comments were about him, or about what was happening.
Tamiko-san's father wore blue too, which made his reddened face pop out and shine the drool on his chin. Soujirou's brow frowned without him trying to pin down the emotion it made him feel as he looked at the older man. The man was laughing out loud as he sliced clumsily through the air with a sword that despite still being illegal in this time, was far too worned out to hold on in an actual swordfight.
"See, see?! With this, I could slice two at the same time during the Bakumatsu!" the man shouted to no one in particular, and swung in an unimpressive arch. No one seemed to be mildly interested, so he continued, this time turning and heading in a shaky pace towards some barrils near a stand.
"Eiji, calm yourself down," someone said, but didn't stand out from the crowd. The drunk man paid them no mind and lifted the sword high before lashing down on the barril with a howl. Despite the bad condition, the blade still managed to severely crack the barrel. The ones nearby changed their expressions to general distaste and either turned the other way, or muttered to themselves between sighs.
The children had all reunited, and their reactions were very different.
"Wow, Eiji-san! You really killed two people like that?" one of the twins asked.
"Eiji-san, you're too silly!" Saya said laughing.
"What'd you say?"
"Silly~"
"Just leave him, children," a woman said lowly. "Stop that."
"But it's funny! Try again, Eiji-san! I bet you can't finish the barril!"
The woman that had talked shook her head and whispered something to her friend.
Soujirou didn't understand why people wouldn't just do something if they were do disaproving of what they were seeing. Tamiko-san was still next to him, embarrassed by the whole ordeal that must have been frequent. But she too did nothing.
"Eiji-san, can I help you go home?" Soujirou stepped foward, touching Saya's shoulder just enough to try to put her behind him. There was a spark of annoyance that he couldn't put place to; the drunken man was annoying him, but so were the people. They all seemed to be equally complaining about the children and the man, instead of just taking him somewhere to calm himself. Why didn't they do anything?
The man barely took his presence to mind, rage directed at little Saya.
"What'd you say, you brat? You can't talk to me like that! I'm a warrior of the Bakumatsu!"
"Just show your made-up tricks, we know you never fought in the Bakumatsu!" Saya pushed, despite Soujirou's attempt to make her step back.
The man yelled loudly, too loud, more drool sliding through the corner of his mouth.
"Please calm d-" he tried, only to be shoved back before he could finish, nearly clashing on the little girl and one of the twins behind him.
"Get the fuck out of my way, you stupid kid!"
One of the men nearby clicked his tongue loudly.
"Eiji, calm down already. You're too drunk, fool." But he didn't move.
The drunk man wasn't really listening, and waved his rusty sword blindly through the air. The children laughed and pointed at him as the man twrilled over himself and yelled death threats between swings, the spectacle funny to them rather than threatening. The other people continued to glance in heavy disaproval, shaking their heads and turning the other way. Soujirou looked at the children laughing and to the ignoring stares of the villagers, suddenly lost. The scene was annoying him, made him feel worried, catious, maybe even slightly stressed. None of that seemed to be found in the people around him. Only Tamiko-san seem to be stressed, and even so, just waiting.
But why? Why didn't they just do something?
The drunk man arched the blade in the air. His grip, however, slipped, and the sword fell and clinged sharply as it hit the ground.
"Eiji-san, you're so dumb!" one of the twins laughed, bouncing up and down. Nori-chan imitated him with his impressive jumps.
"I could use that sword better than you!"
"Hiroyoshi-san, will you just take Eiji away? The damn fool is at it again" finally, the elderly lady from earlier that day complained to a man with a bun on his hair.
The drunk man burped some loud threat, a blank general threat yelled at no one and at everything, and rolled over his heels in search for the sword. As he found it, he stumbled over himself and nearly tripped. Hiroyoshi-san tried to apeace the man, just like Soujirou had attempted, and halted for a moment when Eiji's direction became clear. It wouldn't be too hard to physically pin down the man, to kick the rusty blade just away enough, but there was that moment of hesitation, assessing the scene out of pure instinct and not moving in that gap of surprise. One of the laughing children ran to the sword, Nori-chan, probably to try and play with it or just to toy with Eiji, the way children do. Saya followed him to help pick it up. Eiji could easily grab the sword and spin it like before in a misguided rage, rage enough to injure those too close.
It might not have been anything but a slight scare, easily forgotten or ignored by the other villagers. It might have been a tragic accident. It would never be known.
Soujirou's fingers clenched on the grip just before Eiji's hand flew to grab it. The drunk man's fist shut around air and he straightened at the same time Soujirou did, and then jerked back in shock midway, balance lost and eyes wide. The blade sunk in, shoved past his ribs and ripped through his back, dark red glimmering at the paper lanterns.
Soujirou stared at Eiji, his own eyes wide by mirrored reflex. He looked, but didn't see the man as he gasped in pain, a growing fear now mixing with the shock and the pain. Soujirou didn't see, nor heard him. There was nothing at all. His body moved on his own accord, rusty blade sliding through and out of the flesh as smoothly as a silk coating, so easily, so effortlessly ignoring the heavy weight on his arm. Noise seemed to fade from the world along with everything else and for one instant, he felt at peace.
Peace. Calm, unworried, nothing. Just nothing, light, nothing. Empty. And his lips curled to a smile.
Then there was a sudden loud roar, and everything shattered. Soujirou shuddered with the sound of thunder, and his eyed widened once again, this time truly. He blinked, trying to focus, to see what before was nothing, a man, wide eyes staring back blankly at him, Eiji. Eiji's hand pulling down, his fist tightning on his arm and now relaxing, falling. He blinked again, air suddenly painful to inhale.
Slowly, the acknowledgement dawned on him, or maybe it happened fast, too fast. The thunder growled and echoed and something in him froze, cold and heavy and drenching and he couldn't breathe. Rain. No, I can't believe it, it's going to rain like back then. His eyes darted up despite himself, waiting to see a blindingly bright lightning that would bring another horrible crushing thunder on the clear, star-splattered sky.
There was no thunder, no rain, it wasn't a repetition. It wasn't, it was something different.
Chest too heavy, head too heavy, Soujirou regained the sense of his hands and he felt the grip of the sword crushing in his fist, a damp warm feeling on his skin that felt too familiar without even looking, but as he did, he saw the blood. The blood. The blood on his hands, on his arms, on his face, clothes, on his mind again.
It was so easy. So easy.
Still not breathing, not more than gasps that were leaving him dizzy, he saw the people, their faces, their opened mouths the probable source of the thunder. Saya and Nori-chan's eyes were red, their faces swollen from crying, hugging and holding someone to keep them safe. The elder lady, shock and anger displayed in the old lines of her expression. Tamiko-san's pretty face was a mask of horror, eyes too wide, hands now clasped against her mouth to prevent more screams, the screams, I'm screaming I can hear my screams, an expression he had seen too many times before.
Fear.
No. No, no. I don't want this. Not again, enough.
I can't, I can't, he couldn't handle that now, he couldn't. He... what had he done, why?
Let go.
It was so easy. So much easier, as easy as smiling. He tried. He felt his lips try to curl, the memory inprinted in the muscle, but as he did, no no.
Soujirou continued to stand there for that eternal moment, that horrifying moment when no one could think, no one could react. Until Soujirou did.
It was repeting in his mind, everything. The screams, his screams, Himura-san telling him he didn't want to kill, I don't want to kill- but it's so easy, so much bette- He couldn't stop looking at Tamiko-san, the screams of the children, his grip failed and the sword clashed loudly, and now it was raining, now it was really raining and he couldn't breathe, choking, it had been too long without breathing and he flinched, his body quivered back, some attempt to move away from them, from their shock from their fear, fear to him, fear of him, and then finally they reacted too and the screams returned and his fear became too much.
He ran. He ran and it wasn't enough so he ran faster, his legs burned from the strain, too long since he last had attempted to use Shukuchi. It was dark, too dark to clearly see any path to a safeplace he didn't have. But he kept going, he tripped and fell and got up and tripped again and looked at his hands, looked at the blood and the few times he had actually been drenched in it - drained out and drenched at the same time, funny - too many times, he could hear the cries as they died, it was too much, their cries and their pain and his pain, he just couldn't.
Why so much effort, so much pain? Why endure all this just to maintain... what? What was he holding on to?
Let go. He couldn't handle that pain, that weight, he couldn't breathe, the rain wasn't stopping and now his hands were pulling hard, yanking hair with bloodstained fingers I'm scared, please, let go. It would be so much better, so empty, so peaceful. Why so much effort? It was enough, yes?
Those thoughts were meant to be smoothing. To make his mind drift slowly, softly, to a familiar tranquil mist where he wouldn't need to worry at all. Everything would be simpler, quieter, and most of all, emptier. He wouldn't have to feel all of this anymore, at last.
What am I holding on to?
All those thoughts were meant to be smoothing and calm, to erase his stress and doubt and finally make things clear and simple again.
Instead, he felt terrified.
The bouncing boy had called him Rurou-chan, the twins that reminded him of the twins of the Akane-koro. The little girl with the round rosy face, that looked like the round boy with the expensive kimono, crawling and begging as he smiled and deemed weak before falling in a pool of blood. The villagers' dread, other villagers of another place whom had screamed too but whom had all died, he could do that, he had done that - before.
I don't want to kill. No - I don't want to be that again. I don't. I'm different, so much hard work, I've changed.
But I don't want to feel. It's too much. It'd be so easy, so peaceful.
Soujirou bit back a cry, pulling and yanking at the only thing he could, face smudged with blood water and dirt. There was something on his eyes, pinching and clawing and making the rain keep falling.
I don't want to kill. But it was so much easy to be empty. So scary, I'm so scared, please, someone. Help-
No one was there. He was back at where it all started; or where it all ended. Reduced to a whimpering form on the floor again - before, because he had tried so hard to kill the person who caused all this pain; now, the cause of all this pain was the person he had killed so effortlessly.
He forced himself to get up from his knees, the hardest task he had ever faced. His head burned where the hair was teared, his lungs were heavy, his head dizzy, and he walked now before feeling sick and stopping again, unable to move, unable to hold his own thoughts.
It would take him hours of panic turned to anger and then to distress, past and present clashing and cracking his head, to reach an attempt answer, a direction at least, something to sustain him just long enough to not break and let go at last. The only person who had been left, who provoked and created this pain - who allowed the possibility to struggle and change.
He had to. He couldn't stay here, alone. He had to try to find Himura-san.
~おわり~
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Author's Note: Well this was hard. It was confusing and purposefully so, but at the same time, it was hard to write that down.
This idea came during a huge, beautiful lightning storm in late May. Yeah I take a stupid amount of time to write stuff.
I didn't want Soujirou to have a clear, definative reason to have killed. It was an emotional trigger more than anything, so there are definately several aspects that you as a reader can pick as your own 'push' that made him react the way he did. But mostly, it was meant to show how sometimes you lose control without you yourself knowing why.
Or maybe, fear is all it takes.
This has continuity to my fanfic 'Hold on to your truth'.
Thanks for reading, hope you can review and please point out bad grammar.