Okay, okay.I know it's late. Here is my first Rurouni Kenshin fic. Any and all comments welcome!
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There wasn't a single cloud to obscure the brilliance of the cerulean sky above. The sun shone like a burning gem from above the canopy of the towering forest trees, under which a teenaged girl traveled in silence. Ryuko Yamino looked up from the dry ground that she walked upon, shading her dark blue eyes with a single, dirt-covered hand. With the other, she gently set down her burden; a large cloth sack tied with a frayed rope. Her chin-length black hair had several twigs entangled in it, a result of her tumbling down a small hill. She had been walking for about three hours already this day, and it was only seven o'clock in the morning. A loud rumbling from the girl's stomach jolted her from her musings.
"Time for breakfast, I suppose," she said aloud to no one in particular. She knelt down beside her bag, wiping her hands on her baggy leggings. She had always preferred boy's clothing, finding kimonos too confining. As she raised her arms to untie her satchel, she accidentally brushed the object she wore at her side, even in sleep. She wrapped her hand around the hilt, finding comfort in the presence of the katana. Releasing the hilt, she untied the rope around the sack, and placed the rope beside her. Shifting into a cross-legged sitting position, she reached into the bag and pulled out several wrapped rice cakes. Eating quietly, she surveyed the area around her. This part of the forest looked pretty much like the rest of the forest. Finishing her meager breakfast, she retied the rope around her bag, slinging the sack once more over her shoulder. She started walking again, her head bent down. It was a long way to Tokyo, after all.
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"Yahiko!" yelled Karou Kamiya, hands on her hips.
"What?" asked a voice. The head of a ten-year-old boy with dark brown hair came out of a doorway, a puzzled look on his face. "What is it?"
"You know what it is, Yahiko." The black-haired girl said quietly, a deadly menace in her voice.
"What did I do now?" Yahiko asked, clearly annoyed by the older girl.
"You ate those rice cakes I bought at the market, that's what you did!" cried Karou angrily. "I was saving those for dinner!"
"I got hungry." Yahiko said simply, stepping out of the room he was in and crossing his arms. "Besides, you left them on the table in plain sight. If I hadn't eaten them, chances are that Sanosuke would've eaten them."
"Well, at least you could have asked first!" yelled Karou, raising her fists threateningly and giving Yahiko a 'I-promise-that-you-will-know-pain' kind of look.
"Hello!" cried a voice from outside the dojo, interrupting what was starting to look like an all-out war. "Miss Karou? Anyone home?"
"He's back!" cried Karou. She ran to the door, followed by Yahiko.
Outside, a red-haired man stood with two bags, one in each hand. An odd cross-shaped scar was on his left cheek. He wasn't very tall, perhaps 5'3". His purple eyes were wide, like a child's. A sword hung at his side, seeming to be a part of him. As Yahiko and Karou came out of the dojo to greet him, he smiled a soft smile. It felt good to be back.
"Hey, long time!" said a voice behind him, and Kenshin Himura turned to look up at his friend.
"Hello Sanosuke. It is good to see you again, that it is." he said quietly, smiling at the taller fighter.
"How was you trip, Kenshin?" asked Yahiko, beaming up at the older swordsman.
"It was interesting, that it was." said Kenshin. "But right now I am hungry. Is there anything to eat?"
"Yahiko ate all of the rice cakes I was saving for dinner." said Karou, crossing her arms.
"What? I was gonna have some!" said Sanosuke, and Karou glared at him.
"Sanosuke Sagara! You could do some work around here, instead of sitting around like a bum!" she said loudly.
"Now, now, don't argue." said Kenshin, stepping in between his two friends. "I think Yahiko should go to the market and buy some more, that I do."
"But…" Yahiko protested weakly.
"No buts, Yahiko. Go do as Kenshin said." said Karou.
"Fine. I'll be back soon."
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Ryuko knelt beside the small pool of water. She splashed the water over her face, relishing the coldness. She removed her sandals and socks, dipping her sore feet into the pool. She looked up at the swiftly darkening sky, her forehead creased in thought. If she walked through the night, she could reach Tokyo by sunrise tomorrow. She reached into her travel sack and pulled out a diary. Taking a calligraphy brush and some ink, she began to write on a new page:
--April 12, 11th year of the Meiji era--
I am a night's journey from Tokyo. What I will find there, I do not know. I hope that I can finally leave my past behind me. The only thing that is certain now is uncertainty. Maybe I can find a job at a restaurant. I think I would do nearly anything for a hot meal and a comfortable futon to sleep on. But I cannot allow myself to get attached to anyone, because I might have to leave. And I do not want anyone hurt because of me.
--Ryuko Yamino
Again Ryuko looked up at the sky. The first stars, brilliant jewels on a velvet cloth, were coming out. She replaced brush, ink, and diary in her pack, tying it shut once more with the frayed rope. She swung the bag over her shoulder, like she had done for the past weeks. Patting her katana to make sure it was still with her, she started walking again. She was a wanderer, and never stayed for long. She hoped that things would be different this time around. Her feet were sore from her restless wandering, and she longed for a place of her own. Maybe she could sleep soundlessly in Tokyo, without nightmares. Maybe.
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I hope you liked the story. If you did, review and tell me why. If you didn't, review and tell me why not. If you don't know, review and tell me that.
Namarie,
Aria Nightwing
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There wasn't a single cloud to obscure the brilliance of the cerulean sky above. The sun shone like a burning gem from above the canopy of the towering forest trees, under which a teenaged girl traveled in silence. Ryuko Yamino looked up from the dry ground that she walked upon, shading her dark blue eyes with a single, dirt-covered hand. With the other, she gently set down her burden; a large cloth sack tied with a frayed rope. Her chin-length black hair had several twigs entangled in it, a result of her tumbling down a small hill. She had been walking for about three hours already this day, and it was only seven o'clock in the morning. A loud rumbling from the girl's stomach jolted her from her musings.
"Time for breakfast, I suppose," she said aloud to no one in particular. She knelt down beside her bag, wiping her hands on her baggy leggings. She had always preferred boy's clothing, finding kimonos too confining. As she raised her arms to untie her satchel, she accidentally brushed the object she wore at her side, even in sleep. She wrapped her hand around the hilt, finding comfort in the presence of the katana. Releasing the hilt, she untied the rope around the sack, and placed the rope beside her. Shifting into a cross-legged sitting position, she reached into the bag and pulled out several wrapped rice cakes. Eating quietly, she surveyed the area around her. This part of the forest looked pretty much like the rest of the forest. Finishing her meager breakfast, she retied the rope around her bag, slinging the sack once more over her shoulder. She started walking again, her head bent down. It was a long way to Tokyo, after all.
************************
"Yahiko!" yelled Karou Kamiya, hands on her hips.
"What?" asked a voice. The head of a ten-year-old boy with dark brown hair came out of a doorway, a puzzled look on his face. "What is it?"
"You know what it is, Yahiko." The black-haired girl said quietly, a deadly menace in her voice.
"What did I do now?" Yahiko asked, clearly annoyed by the older girl.
"You ate those rice cakes I bought at the market, that's what you did!" cried Karou angrily. "I was saving those for dinner!"
"I got hungry." Yahiko said simply, stepping out of the room he was in and crossing his arms. "Besides, you left them on the table in plain sight. If I hadn't eaten them, chances are that Sanosuke would've eaten them."
"Well, at least you could have asked first!" yelled Karou, raising her fists threateningly and giving Yahiko a 'I-promise-that-you-will-know-pain' kind of look.
"Hello!" cried a voice from outside the dojo, interrupting what was starting to look like an all-out war. "Miss Karou? Anyone home?"
"He's back!" cried Karou. She ran to the door, followed by Yahiko.
Outside, a red-haired man stood with two bags, one in each hand. An odd cross-shaped scar was on his left cheek. He wasn't very tall, perhaps 5'3". His purple eyes were wide, like a child's. A sword hung at his side, seeming to be a part of him. As Yahiko and Karou came out of the dojo to greet him, he smiled a soft smile. It felt good to be back.
"Hey, long time!" said a voice behind him, and Kenshin Himura turned to look up at his friend.
"Hello Sanosuke. It is good to see you again, that it is." he said quietly, smiling at the taller fighter.
"How was you trip, Kenshin?" asked Yahiko, beaming up at the older swordsman.
"It was interesting, that it was." said Kenshin. "But right now I am hungry. Is there anything to eat?"
"Yahiko ate all of the rice cakes I was saving for dinner." said Karou, crossing her arms.
"What? I was gonna have some!" said Sanosuke, and Karou glared at him.
"Sanosuke Sagara! You could do some work around here, instead of sitting around like a bum!" she said loudly.
"Now, now, don't argue." said Kenshin, stepping in between his two friends. "I think Yahiko should go to the market and buy some more, that I do."
"But…" Yahiko protested weakly.
"No buts, Yahiko. Go do as Kenshin said." said Karou.
"Fine. I'll be back soon."
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Ryuko knelt beside the small pool of water. She splashed the water over her face, relishing the coldness. She removed her sandals and socks, dipping her sore feet into the pool. She looked up at the swiftly darkening sky, her forehead creased in thought. If she walked through the night, she could reach Tokyo by sunrise tomorrow. She reached into her travel sack and pulled out a diary. Taking a calligraphy brush and some ink, she began to write on a new page:
--April 12, 11th year of the Meiji era--
I am a night's journey from Tokyo. What I will find there, I do not know. I hope that I can finally leave my past behind me. The only thing that is certain now is uncertainty. Maybe I can find a job at a restaurant. I think I would do nearly anything for a hot meal and a comfortable futon to sleep on. But I cannot allow myself to get attached to anyone, because I might have to leave. And I do not want anyone hurt because of me.
--Ryuko Yamino
Again Ryuko looked up at the sky. The first stars, brilliant jewels on a velvet cloth, were coming out. She replaced brush, ink, and diary in her pack, tying it shut once more with the frayed rope. She swung the bag over her shoulder, like she had done for the past weeks. Patting her katana to make sure it was still with her, she started walking again. She was a wanderer, and never stayed for long. She hoped that things would be different this time around. Her feet were sore from her restless wandering, and she longed for a place of her own. Maybe she could sleep soundlessly in Tokyo, without nightmares. Maybe.
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I hope you liked the story. If you did, review and tell me why. If you didn't, review and tell me why not. If you don't know, review and tell me that.
Namarie,
Aria Nightwing