**Disclaimer: i do not own the characters of Rurouni Kenshin, or any aspects of it, for that matter. That being said, enjoy. ^.^
Writing a story as good as the ones in the RK series is virtually impossible, so naturally, i just had to go and embarrass myself trying to do it. Here's what i came up with - try not to hate me too much. And yes, the main character is an original made-up. That said, please read, enjoy, and review!
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The rain fell silently, causing the atmosphere to become saturated with a caustic odor. The bass rumble of thunder resounded throughout the vast grounds. An expressionless swordsman tilted his head upwards slightly, allowing the moisture to run down his cheeks, which were stained slightly with minute, dark flecks of the same substance that was flowing without restraint upon the yielding earth. Blood.
The young girl stared wide-eyed at the assassin's dripping sword. Precipitation ran down the blade as it dripped simultaneously with blood. Her lips parted, and she uttered a single heart-wrenching sob. She was kneeling barely a foot away from the body of her beloved mother. The eight-year-old reached out and slowly placed her hand on the lifeless one before her. With that, her tears gushed freely. She looked up at the attacker with an expression of horror and disbelief. What had her family done to deserve this? What had she done?
"Wh-why..." She whispered hoarsely. "Why...?"
The impassive eyes of the murderer bore deeply into her own. Then, without saying a single word, he sheathed his stained sword, turned around, and began to walk away.
"...Why don't-" The girl glared at the quickly retreating back of the swordsman. "...Why don't you kill me?" She spat bitterly. "Why don't you kill me as well?!?"
Remaining silent, the young man slowly pushed open the front gates of the Kaminaga residence and left the little girl kneeling on the ground, holding her dead mother's hand.
Her eyes darted about, eyeing the three motionless forms lying upon the cold, drenched soil. Her own face and kimono were covered in a massive amount of dark blood. The child looked at the ground. There were pools of blood and water everywhere. So much blood. She bowed her head, and then turned to her right, staring at the swinging gates apathetically.
That bastard... She thought to herself and closed her eyes. Memories of the slaughter were fresh in her mind. Recalling his face, she thought about his empty gaze, his red-tinted hair, and most of all, the single scar that ran up and down his left cheek. She would never forget his face. Never.
Hunching over so that her forehead nearly touched the damp dirt, she covered her eyes with her bloody hands and began to cry. She screamed in agony. That night, she never stopped crying. The downpour continued, drenching the small girl in her sorrows.