Author's Notes--Hola! Welcome to my very first fic, Passage. It's an Rurouni Kenshin fic set a year before Kenshin wanders off to Tokyo. ^^* Please bear with me in the fact that I have no idea where it is Katsura Kogoro died.. I researched it for about an hour and came up with Satsuma. If this is historically inaccurate, please let me know!

03.13.04–-Chapter 1 edited. KENSHIN DOESN'T HAVE THE SAKABATOU..

Disclaimer-–I don't really own any of these characters, they belong to a whole bunch of people waaaay richer than I am, I'm just screwing them up for entertainment purposes.

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Kenshin glared at his reflection in the small bucket of water he was carrying. His facial features suddenly blurred in submission to a ripple, it was beginning to rain. After thirteen years, he still remembered that night when he met her, the one who gave him that cross-shaped scar grazing his left cheek. It had been raining then, too. The memories flooded his mind like the rain in the mud–slowly blending to form a disgustingly sticky mess.

He had been in this small town for a few months now.. the townsfolk had become acclimated to his presence, no longer seeming to care each time he passed with his umbrella in tow. Kenshin was staying with an old lady named Yoshimaru Rena that ran the inn in town, doing chores and such to earn his keep. He felt at home there, but knew that he would soon begin wandering again. For that was his life as a rurouni, he would wander until he felt completely atoned for his sins of many years past. Thirteen years since Chosuu, since Ikeda-Ya, since Otsu, since assassinations.. and Kenshin still didn't feel--free.

Kenshin walked into the inn and addressed the tiny, ancient innkeeper. She was withered a widowed–thought by most of the town to be a senile woman not worth wasting their time on. "Where does this go, Yoshimaru-dono?"

"By the door will do, Himura-kun." The withered woman smiled politely. She waited a moment while he set the bucket down, careful not to splosh any water out of it. "Oh, a letter came for you while you were out."

"A letter?" Kenshin inquired. Quite out of the ordinary–nobody knew his whereabouts. Nobody. Yoshimaru handed him a thick, folded parchment. "Arigatou gozaimasu." He said politely, bowing as he sauntered down a small hallway to his room. He knelt on the tatami and read the curved calligraphy written on the outside: "Himura". Kenshin proceeded to rip the letter open and began to read.

It was a letter from Ikumatsu, Kogoro Katsura's wife in the new Meiji era. In a very detailed tone, undoubtedly a habit of a former geisha, she explained that Katsura had fallen ill to a slow-moving brain disease in Satsuma. He wanted to gather a few of his Chosuu clan one last time before he passed. Ikumatsu was asking him to visit Katsura's near-deathbed. Should he? Could he? Is it humanly possible to confront the one man who spun him into his Battousai madness? Whether or not he could, he knew that he must. Katsura would undoubtedly done the same for him.

He walked out of his shoji room and towards Yoshimaru's main room. The old woman foresaw Kenshin's hesitance and stated with a heavy sigh, "You must be leaving?"



Kenshin nodded slowly. "It is time for this one to pick up the sakabatou and continue his wanderings. I am called to Satsuma." I honestly did not wish to leave. This was the closest thing to a home that he had lived in for the wandering years–and after he was gone, who would care for Yoshimaru?

"Satsuma? A rebellion of the samurai is stirring there, I've heard." Yoshimaru looked worried. She wrinkled her nose in unhidden disgust. "Surely you do not go to join their ranks?"

"Yoshimaru-san, I accept this knew era of Meiji. I helped in bringing it about. Those are merely samurai who cannot accept the fate of the new Japan. Besides," Kenshin laughed, "I cannot kill anymore.." He trailed off silently, his thoughts turning to his lost one once more. His hand moved to the umbrella resting near him. It was purple, clashing with his lavender gi, but it was -hers-.

"Hai." The woman said, smiling through her obvious concern. "Good luck, Himura."

"Something concerns me, though, Yoshimaru-dono." Kenshin said earnestly. "How will you manage after this one leaves? There aren't any other visitors to help with the chores."

She scoffed at him. "I have managed these sixty years.. Thirty of them without a husband or any kind of help. I believe I can manage. It's you I worry about."

"Oro?! Why waste your worry on me?" He asked. It was his view that no one should carry any burden of his–especially one who had been so kind to him.

"Because. Someone should." Yoshimaru hesitantly answered. It wanted no response. "Now, Himura-kun. Always remember your place."

"Oro?!"

"Don't give me that.." Yoshimaru told him stiffly. "Remember your vow."

There was a very empty pause, during which Kenshin finding himself realizing how much this woman knew of his life. More than anyone else he had ever told. The first person in ten years that he had opened up to. She only knew the bare facts–of Kenshin being a hitokiri (not the Hitokiri Battousai, specifically–just a hitokiri) for Chosuu. And that he lost someone in the process. It tugged at her heart for some reason, and she had let him in. She even knew of his vow of nonviolence. His repentance. And she accepted him for it. It felt nice to have someone on his side. After a few minutes, Kenshin finally nodded.

"Well, then.. go on." Yoshimaru said wearily. Her voice was becoming shaky and there was an unmistakable tear rolling down her aged cheek. "To Satsuma with you."



"Arigatou, Yoshimaru-dono." Kenshin called from over his shoulder as he walked out of the door. He knew that he would likely never return to this place. But he sincerely wanted to. Yoshimaru had been so nice to him, and had truly accepted him. He wondered if that would matter to the next person he met or stayed with. Without using the umbrella strapped to his back, he stepped out into the rain and his brow furrowed with worry.

But before him lay the road to Satsuma.. what awaited him there, he did not precisely know. Who else would answer Katsura-san's call? Would being in that environment bring him back to the Bakumatsu? Would this revert him to a hitokiri again? So many questions revolved in his head.. yet, with each passing step, they seemed to disappear. Satsuma awaited him. He turned to the South and continued his journey as a wanderer.

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Please review! Even if this is just an introduction, I could use all of the reviews I can get. Thanks for reading this far and please check back for new chapters which are coming soon, I promise! ^^*