Watsuki once mentioned that Kenshi was a vat full of fire. At first, I didn't believe it until the arc of remembrance when his hitokiri days were visited. I wondered when Kenshin started developing amber eyes. As a child, when he was called Shinta, his innocence held back hatred and anger. It was only until when Kenshin was 14 that he wanted to join the army with the wish that he could change the world. I am sure his eyes started changing when he became a hitokiri. So this is my drabble about the birth of the well-known amber eyes.
A huge thanks to Sileavatar for his wonderful style of writing. I decided to experiment with his style a little to fully convey my ideas in this story.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this piece of mind. This is by far, the darkest piece I have ever written in my life and I am immensely proud of the outcome. Kudos to all the growing writers out there!
His eyes blazed against the orange sunset, as if sparked by the lingering light before twilight followed. The targeted shogun general started recoiling back, shocked by the sudden change of the red-haired boy's eyes. As if set by flames, his eyes remained shimmering golden. The amethyst colour was nowhere to be found in the ignited fire of his pupils. Red would be spilled that day.
*Flashback*
"If we are not doing anything, the country would never change!" a discontented teen argued, full of frustration. His frown shadowed his soft amethyst eyes and mouth was pulsed intensely at the recent conversation.
"And you think you're so powerful that you can change the world?" the stoic teacher scoffed. Hiko leaned against the tree, sighing for the umpteenth time that this repetitive discussion occurred.
"Hiten Mitsurugi is powerful enough to change the results of the war. But, you can never change people. The aftermath would always be the same," he explained to his hot-tempered student once again.
It was worrying. Kenshin was a very mild-mannered gentle child when he was found. However, they had been surrounded by the constant upheaval of war and death was a daily occurance. Hiko had become desensitized to it but his compassionate soft-hearted pupil grew darker each passing day. Kenshin was a kind soul, perhaps too kind that he felt anger upon the culprits who inflicted damage across the land, bringing with them the destruction of homes and tears and cries of families and children.
The argument had been going on for several months ever since a member of the Choshu Ishin Shishi came to Hiko, asking him for assistance.
At that point of time, there were many shogunate wars, leading to several divisions in Japan. The country was a smouldering state of ruin as each shogun raided against each other, each filled with their own so-called pride and honour. Hiko and Kenshin had passed by another pillaged village and Kenshin came upon a young copse which held a sword in his hand. The boy was around his age and the deep puncture in his chest indicated his heart was no longer present. It was as if someone punched his fist through the young chap's chest and literally stole his heart. But instead of being treasured as a gift, Kenshin found the organic flesh on the side of the road, tossed aside like a piece of trash. If he looked closely enough, he could still see the white knuckles tightened across the hilt of the sword. The dead teen was not rotting yet, which suggested that the death was recent. Tear stains could be seen along his still cheeks. Kenshin felt a deep inner simmer, filled with hatred and anger against the injustice of it all and helpless with his young body.
What can he do with the kenjutsu that he was gifted?
Listening to the recruiter from the Choshu Ishin Shishi, his eyes widened in hope. They wished to stop the shogunate war and unite Japan as one. As patriots, they could no longer stand the continuous, countless and pointless war between territories. Perhaps, this was the time for him to act upon. A chance for Japan to finally stop ravaging its' own people and allow them to nourish and grow in the land once more.
The messenger left a lingering memorandum,
"We shall bring forth the Meiji Era when all shall be equal."
Kenshin faced his teacher, his eyes blinded by the possibility of an equal world where all shall have the right to live and none shall suffer.
"I am going to this war. Someone needs to do something, if it is not you, it is me," Kenshin's determined voice rang out, setting an ultimatum between the two, earning the nickname, "Baka Deshi" from Hiko for the lifetime.
Hiko's frown was made more prominent as he spotted the dim amber flickering behind the angry amethyst eyes, realising that nothing he could say or do would stop his pupil from making the same bloody path he had once made before.
Disappointment was made prominent first but worry came in closely, consuming all other thoughts.
Setting aside the horrible aftertaste in his mouth, the grave teacher turned his back on his student, "Do what you want, Baka Deshi." he muttered, both in anger and a hint of sorrow for the fatherly love he had for his silly student.
*End flashback*
He must not disappoint, as he was picked by one of the Ishin Triumvirate, Katsura Kogoro. Katsura-Sensei had given him one of the most important jobs that would turn history itself, the Hitokiri. When he joined the Ishin Ishishi army, he was prepared to sully his hands with death and blood. However, it was his first assignment after all and he was nervous.
Looking at his sword, he gulped down his anxious breath, doubtful if he could make the first kill. Was his heart able to take it? Would he be able to take someone's life into his hands?
The brothel came into sight as he dashed across rooftops to the place marked out in the map from his briefing the night before. The amethyst eyed teen landed softly on the curved rooftop of the brothel. It was a sore sight. The whole building was painted in red and as the sun shone on it, it spokes of stories for the red paint. There were smears of dried blood along the walls, hidden by the maroon pigment. Kenshin frowned as he scaled down the building to the ground floor. An ominous ki oozed out of the godforsaken building, warning him of a chance that he might deeply regret upon entry into the brothel.
If he was not wrong, he was told that his target was often found near the basement of the building. There were lesser guards near the basement which was strange. It was either they had set a trap for any intruder or there was a secret that had to be kept to the minimum. Judging from the sinister energy surrounding the place like a plague, it might be the latter. After all, who knew what fantasies can a man have? He found a small window near the ground and slipped in quietly, in the dark corner of the alley.
As he landed, he winced at the smell of the basement, it was pungent, and possibly just ventilated. There were hints of perfume which were used as a drug for the ladies to stimulate men or vice versa. He heard whimpering from the room next door as he exited the room quietly. Innocent and curious, he gave a quick peek but stopped in his tracks. His mouth unable to close his gritted teeth as they gnashed against each other in disgust. There were three women with their hands tied up to the ceiling. They were topless, swinging helplessly over the steam of hot boiling water that brewed in the large cauldron. Their skins were scalded from the heat, red boils were forming along their tender flesh. Their faces were swollen with blue and black smeared along them. Scalding blisters formed along their jawline as a result of the unbearable incalescence below.
Feeling intense pain and rage, he could not leave them be. He bounced off the walls, cutting off the ropes of each lady and placing them gently on the ground. Not a moment too soon as their wrists showed signs of blood and abrasion from rope burn. He regretted he could not save them sooner as cutting all the ropes in one go would result in the three of them falling into the merciless pit of scalding water. They laid on the ground, weak from torture, their voices were hoarse and strained from all the screams of pain hours before. He winced as he observed the bloody whip slashes along their backs, leaving protruded bumps and streaks. The unsightly protruded edges along the slashes indicating the whip had thorns. Water and pink liquid leaked out of those heart wrenching wounds, showing a severe inflammation of poor treatment. Rips showed prominently against their blue and black flesh with malnourishment and starvation. Their Ki were weak like a lighted candle at the end of its wick… death was imminent.
His hands were once again clenched at his side, helpless once again with the knowledge that he was too late to save these women from the horrible depraved treatment that they endured. His tears blurred, bringing forth the illusion of the three kind slaves who shielded him with their bodies, willingly giving their lives up for his young self to live. Violaceous eyes hardened like diamonds…. He was ready for bloodshed.
Who was responsible for this?
As if in response, a laughter rang down the hall, a daunting and arrogant voice spoke out,
"HAHAHAHAHA… What a fun day! Those bitches got what they deserved for serving me those horrible food," a dark-haired shogun general walked proudly along the hallway, his thorny whip dragged along the merry man as his fist twitched playfully like a cat playing with a thread.
"Yes, Masuke-sama, we are sorry about the horrible service and they had been punished accordingly. Your request is now ready for you," a seedy old man bowed lowly as he beckoned a hand down the intended direction. The regally dressed general's face lit up with smugness and pleasure as he licked his lips in want.
Masuke-sama, that was his target. That bastard was the one who did these to them.
Kenshin's amethyst eyes blazed. They flickered along with the candlelight in the hallway as their colour became diluted with a little bit of orange. Hiding in the shadows and keeping a distance behind them, he followed them in the winding passages, leading up to a room that was close to the far end of the brothel. They went inside the dim room, chattering away. Kenshin was not able to hear them as he was too far. Inching his way to the desired location, he stepped into the room, drawing his sword quickly to get the job done. However, what came into his peripheral vision made him pause. There was a small boy, naked, skinny and laid out on a futon. His eyes were dazed and soulless and his body was unwashed. His belly was bloated, evidential of the starvation he endured and his eyes sunken into his tiny face. The boy was just a toddler. A familiar waft of perfume laid over the air as the drug wormed its way into the crimson haired samurai, revealing its secrets.
Kenshin narrowed his eyes at implication of the current situation, releasing a deadly dark Ki which only could be matched by the grim reaper himself. Blood roared in his ears and his heart was pounding as if it was on the verge of combustion. The rapid burning rushed up into his head, coagulating and pooling around his pupils as he stared daggers into the horrid man. His breaths deepened, setting his lungs on fire. The furious samurai swung out his blade into the air, causing an ultrasonic wave to slice through the tense atmosphere and slammed the seedy old vermin into a wall which resulted an instant concussion.
Kenshin was ready for his first kill…
"Who are you?" Masuke reprimanded and he backed away from the amber eyed samurai. Receiving no reply, he drew his sword as he bended his knees into a fighting stance. As a general, his form was perfect, aiming rightfully and striking precisely at the impending teenager. However, Kenshin was too fast, disappearing from the stroke of attack, only to reappear behind him.
This filthy atrocity shall pay for this, slowly and painfully.
Sensing the impending doom of his life, the general let out a squeal. Outmatched, he dropped the sword cowardly, and ran down the winding corridors. Kenshin took his time, stalking after him such as a predator would with his prey. The frightened scum got to the doorway of the basement and stumbled up the stairs. His eyes were wide with panic and fear as he scanned for help in the open backyard of the harrowing brothel. He stopped when a shadow stood before him, waiting, like a mark of condemnation over his despicable entity. The general wanted to scream for help but the looming dark ki took over his body, freezing his bones and seizing his body controls.
The sun was setting, lighting up the eyes of amber, leaving no sign of amethyst. Red, burning and hot, like a volcano that had erupted from its long simmering slumber. Kenshin raised his sword, quickening his steps and making a final leap, slashing off the head of the horrible shogun general. His face akin to a red-haired demon with gritted teeth and golden eyes, the red-haired samurai brought down the judgement of hell upon the ungodly scum of the earth.
Hiten Mitsurugi-Ryu, Ryutsuisen Zan.
Masuke's head rolled off and landed with a sickening "Thud" on the ground. Blood spurted out of the headless body like a fountain, bathing the samurai with crimson gore.
Kenshin felt nothing…
The moon casted it's red luminescence upon the livid warrior, highlighting the bloodstained blade in his hand and his dark amber eyes. As of that night, the newly named Hitokiri Battousai swore upon his sword that he would clean Japan of filth as his eyes blazed with rage, fire and death.
Author's note: Well, that is my take for the infamous amber eyes. Feel free to leave reviews below. I would love to know what you think =).
