A/N and Disclaimer: Don't own RK or Red Jumpsuit Appratus's song, Damn Regrets. I hope you like this. I didn't really know what I was doing. I just let my mind go and just write. I like it. I hope you do too.
Slash. Parry. Block. Again. Slash. Blood flying from silver, cutting through the dark night. Again and again and again, blood splashing. Pale skin, falling bodies, the silver blade of the Battousai cutting through bodies with little effort. The Battousai stopped his movement as his final foe fell to the ground with a soft moan of death and a thud. He flicked the blood off of his blade and turned, disappearing into the night with barely a sound except the rasp of steel as he sheathed his katana and the soft swish of cloth as he skillfully moved through the moonlit streets, trying to stick to the shadows. He brushed a hand against the deep purple scarf that hung around his neck, the ends tied and stuffed in his gi so it would not fall off. His thought strayed to his wife, Tomoe and he felt tears prick his eyes. He looked up, at the rooftops, remembering once when he and Tomoe had been in hiding, how on the New Year they had sat up on the roof, watching the moon rise. He smiled a bit, and then continued on.
The moon is shining bright
The mood is feeling right
I'll kiss you on your neck
People'll stare and we won't care
We're high above the ground
We're nowhere to be found
Battousai shook his head, making the memories fade. He continued through the night, stopping when a dagger hit his shoulder. He ripped it out and spun, his sword once again flashing through the night, moonlight dancing on his blade. Blood spurted in the night, falling onto him. He reached up to his face, feeling blood on it, but none of it was his.
Empowered by adrenaline
Feel like I'm born again
Again, I am repeating myself
And I know it is gone for you
To sit and pretend
She had stopped the wound of regret from bleeding by slicing her own wound across it. He reached up and ran his fingers over the cross scar on his cheek. He shook his head again, breaking the memories. He continued walking through the night, heading back to the hotel where he was staying. He walked in, ignored by the night watchman, who knew better than to bother him. He sank to the ground, leaning his sword against his cheek, falling asleep, his last thought that of Tomoe.
Damn regret, I'll try to forget
Don't worry about me
'Cos I'm real fine
Cast my line
To see what's behind
Did you think you persuaded me to let you go?
Darkness draped over the lone figure of the Battousai as he slept. A sliver of moonlight fell through a crack of the window, falling on his face, illuminating the cross scar marring his pale cheek. His deep red bangs covered his eyes, almost masking the silent tears that slipped down his cheeks.
I'm wishing you were here
My weakness is my fear
Alone I am myself
No reason, life for me to care
Distracted by the sound
I hear footsteps all around
He awoke alone in the room as dawn broke, ripping night apart, killing the darkness. He looked around him at the room, empty for an unused futon mat folded in one corner, a small chest and piles of books. He remembered the first time he had seen Tomoe, then how she had startled him awake the next morning. He wrapped his arms around his thin form, shivering slightly as he realized how alone in the world he was.
Empowered by adrenaline
Feel like I'm born again
Again, I am repeating myself
And I know it's gone for you
To sit and pretend
Battousai sighed, leaning back against the books he used to prop him up in his sleep. He quickly put it back, however, when he saw that it was about a forbidden romance between a peasant girl and a samurai. Again, thoughts of Tomoe shoved their way into his head, making him bite the inside of his cheek. He stood quickly. No, he would not think of her today. He shoved his sword in his belt, then brushed his fingers over the scarf around his neck. If he tried hard enough, he could imagine he still smelled the scent of plum blossoms. No. Enough of that. No more thinking of her.
Damn regret, I try to forget
Don't worry about me
'Cos I'm real fine
Cast my line
To see what's behind
Did you think you persuaded me to let you go?
He ran to the bath house, bathed quickly, then ran back, changing into a clean gi and hamaka. He brushed his fingers through his still damp hair, remembering how Tomoe used to run her comb through his hair, laughing at the faces he would make when she worked on a knot. Tomoe…. No! No thinking about her! It will ruin everything!
You're the only one I turn to
When I feel like no-one's there
And when I'm lonely in my darkest hour
You give me the power
To sit and pretend
Battousai tried not to let his thoughts stray to Tomoe, but they defied his orders and left his control. She had been his sheath, not just to keep him sane, but a sheath to his wounded soul. She had been what kept him together, what kept him sane. He had been able to talk to her about anything, about his job, about his pain, about anything and she would listen without judgment. He went through the rest of his day in a daze, barely aware of anything. It had been that way for the few months, ever since she had died and he had burned the small house that they had shared. He had not been able to think without his thoughts straying to her. He had been in a daze, just killing, not knowing what he was doing.
Damn regret, I'll try to forget
Don't worry about me
'Cos I'm real fine
Cast my line
To see what's behind
Did you think you persuaded me to let you go?
He tried not to think of that day, tried not to think of the way the sickly sweet smell of her blood had blocked out the smell of plum blossoms, her smell. Tried not to think of how light she had felt, falling back into his arms, blood trailing from the deep wound in her chest, a wound he had given her, tried not to think of her last breath, freezing in the winter air. He could not remember if the wounds he had received burned or not, could not remember how many he had killed, only remembered her death, remembered the sharp pain in his cheek as she had cut across the wound of regret, her sacrifice sealing it forever. He could only remember the wound, the deepest wound he had received that day….the wound he had received when he realized that it had been his sword that had sliced through her… ending her life… the life she had sacrificed for his…
Did you think I forget?
Did you think I surrender myself to persuade you to let me go?
Did you think I forget?
Did you think I surrender myself to persuade you to let me go?
Battousai sighed slightly, wiping the tears from his face. He pulled the scarf from his neck, folding it and stuffing it in his gi. He pulled his sword from its sheath, looking at it, feeling its deadly blade. He frowned, and then flipped it around, sheathing it backwards, drawing it, feeling the drag on it from being backwards in the sheath. He frowned again, not used to the drag, but he knew he could used it. He wasn't called the Battousai for nothing, after all. He frowning, he pulled his dark red hair from its topknot, then tied it at the base of his neck. He smiled a bit for what seemed like the first time. The war was over, he was free. He swore never to use his sword to kill another person again, but instead to use his sword to save lives. Never again would he be the Battousai. From this day, he would be a Rurouni, just a wandering samurai. Himura Kenshin turned and left Edo, walking away from his bloody past. This was his gift to Tomoe. As she had given her life for him, he now gave his sword for the lives of others.