The Boy:
Young, idealistic and unaccustomed to the world. He was happy, oblivious to the suffering of others at first, thinking only of the sword and his study of it. He learned to wield it, to master the art of killing with swift efficiency.
Soon the boy has grown, has come into knowledge that the world is suffering and that there must be a way to abate such grievances. His ideals grow with each day and each night that he ponders all these things and soon he comes to the conclusion that there must be a way for him to help. What has he been on this mountain for all this time? This must be why, this must be his destiny.
The master denies his wish, telling him they will brand him as a murderer. He does not listen. He fights with the man, he wins, he leaves...
The Hitokiri:
No longer a boy, but a man, fully blooded, his hands and mind forever stained with the blood of his victims. He is fighting for his ideals, making them heard, wanting to prove that he can protect those who are fighting for the right cause, his cause.
He murders person after person in cold blood, his mind numb to his misdeeds.
Blood, he killed them, making sure that the body guard would never live to tell the others of his face or baring, making sure that he would remain in the shadows, unseen, unknown to those who were his next victims.
White plumb, blossoms that come only in spring, what are they doing out at in the summer? A woman, she has seen him, she has seen him cause the bloody rain, the scar, it will not stop bleeding.
Beautiful, she is his, living within his very house, he loves her. She is kind to him, seeing him only as a person and not a killing machine.
Betrayal. She worked for the Shogun, should've known, did know, didn't want to admit it. Why did he feel such shock? Her fiance, whom she talked of often, he killed him, never had deserved the happiness of loving her, no killer deserved happiness.
Sacrifice, she gave her life up so that he would live, asked him to stop killing, made him vow that once the war was over he would retreat and repent for all of his sins against other sentient beings.
Rurouni:
Both combined, ever shifting and changing, going with the wind as it blows through his hair, like a leaf on a river, flowing, never stopping, always going.
Kind, strong willed, never again will Battosai resurface.
Never again to be branded a murderer...