Disclaimers: I don't own rk.

THE HITOKIRI BATTOUSAI.

"Will you kill?." Katsura's question was left unanswered for quite a while.

"I will." The voice came from me. "Murder."

Three words. Three simple words. Three simple words tied me as a hitokiri, as a manslayer…. forever.

I was…the Hitokiri Battousai.

I killed for Kogoro Katsura, for the Choshu clan, believing that I was doing it for a better Japan. Yes, it was true. Katsura's ideal was a better Japan. But then, intention cannot shield the truth.

I killed for a better Japan. I killed men with families, men with wives, fiancés and everything. I severed their ties with everything, everyone, with one single reason. For a better Japan.

I heard painful cries of the children. I heard sorrowful mourning from their wives. I heard them exhale their last breath. I heard them all. But I didn't listen.

I was too busy to listen to them. I was too disillusioned in my mission to pay heed to them.

"You need speed, accuracy and conviction." Iizuka's voice made my head snapped after my first assassination.

Yes, I had them all. And I used them to kill.

I was the Hitokiri Battousai.

I was a tool to kill. A human weapon of destruction. A ruthless manslayer who had no feelings whatsoever.

I come, I fight, and I kill.

Nobody knew about a vicious manslayer in Kyoto, for I remained a shadow. No man lives long enough to tell my tale to others. I killed my victims, and I killed the witnesses as well.

Until that fateful night.

I was the Hitokiri Battousai.

"You make it rain blood." She's the first witness to walk out alive.

I made it rain blood. Yes, I did. I made the sky to cry a shower of blood. I made the rivers flow blood. I made the sea mourn waves of blood.

I made the world bleed.

I lived a life of pain and blood. But not my blood, their blood.

I lived a life full of cries and mourning. But not mine, theirs.

I lived a life full of suffering. But not mine, theirs.

I was the Hitokiri Battousai.

I let the world fall on me.  I let the world full of pain, blood, and cries, suffering, sorrow, anguish fall on me. I had accepted it long ago.

This is the arch nemesis. This is the price I have to pay for the lives I've taken.

I didn't listen to them then.

But now I do. I listen to their screams of seeing their beloved died. I listen to the low mournful wives who lost their husbands. I listen to confused cries of children who had nowhere to go. I listen to them every night. In painful nightmares that are nothing compared to their suffering.

I am a wanderer.

Who was the Hitokiri Battousai.  

A/N: I dedicate this short fic to those involved in war in Iraq, be they the Iraqis troop or the US. Believe me, we and they have something better to do than that. There's no good result from war. I'm not a very talented writer, but I wanted to write this. We are wasting invaluable human lives in war, think about it.

STOP THEIR CRIES. STOP WAR. MAINTAIN PEACE.