Authors Notes: Hello everyone! Yes, I know. Another new story. But this one is replacing one of my other mistakes, Tied between Tails and Treasure. So don't judge too quickly :)

Anyway, I just thought up this story so please no flames:);;;

Chapter 1 – Starts from the Beginning

In the darkest shadows and the blackest of nights; the wind whispers a of a tale. A legend of legend that heeds warning on all who come across it's mournful song. 1,001 men shall enter battle; 1,000 men shall die in battle.

The crimson liquid that seeps down the rigid blade of his sword speaks no lies. He stands amidst the men robbed of life; no one stands beside him. The legend cries so many tears. Such as the tear of Mercilessness; his sword knows not of mercy. Such as Pain; pain is no longer a word he understands, yet wrought it on so many of his victims. Of fear; the mere mention of his name, and cold sweat forms. Of skill; no blade has touched his skin. And of invincibility; he has not, nor never will, be defeated. Some whisper of him being immortal.

The truth, he is immortal. An immortal being that walks along the mortal. There is only one way to make him mortal just as everyone else he passes.

To fall in love. His heart then will change and become mortal. Yet once that love fails or is destroyed, immortal he will become, once more. But his heart is black and as cold as ice.

Never has he become mortal. In the words of the people who have known him.

But even though the legend states the truth; never was it told that they could be broken. Among the chaos and spilling of life in the war full slaughter, one boy stands as the clarity of fear itself. No one has come across his blade and lived to speak it's tales. Yet no song has been sung about the unchangeable soul he carries.

So within the borders of his mind. And the words of this story lies the key of change The legend would be broken...This is where time and history flow as one...Where it all goes back...to the very beginning...-

-

"Daddy! Please, you can't go, I beg you!"

The pleas of a girl rang though the night; frigid and cold, the ground covered in frost, the streets bathed in moonlight.

Clutching the fabric to her father's gi, Kaoru Kamiya desperately tried to get her father to stay where they were. Safely in their dojo.

"Kaoru, my dear…I must leave. You know I can't escape this war. I have to fight it."

Kaoru fervently shook her head.

"No, you're wrong! You can stay here! You don't have to fight! Please, daddy!"

Koshijiro Kamiya just drew his daughter's form close to him. He placed his calloused hand atop her head and pet down her hair, trying to soothe his daughters pain.

"I'm sorry…but I must fight."

Kaoru's eyes had already sprouted tears as she clenched the fabric of his training gi harder. She then roughly lifted her head from his embrace and looked into his eyes determinedly.

"Then let me come with you! I can fight, you know I can!"

Koshijiro abruptly shook his head.

"I know you can…but I can't let you. They'd have my head if they knew a woman, let alone my daughter, was fighting in this war. It's much too risky. And besides…you are my one and only daughter…and I cannot and will not allow myself to risk the chance of losing you."

"But daddy-"

"No! You will not come to war with me, do you understand?"

The firmness in her fathers voice silenced all of her protests. She bowed her head, her tears finally streaking down her eyes. She nodded her head curtly.

"I understand…"

Koshijiro nodded his head and walked over to their sword rack and picked up a wooden shinai and strapped it into his hakama belt. He then walked back over to his daughter and embraced her for the last time.

"I love you, my dear Kaoru…I promise to come back home to you safely."

And with that said, he let go of his daughter and slowly ambled over to the doorway of the dojo. He looked back on his daughter's form who stood still where he had left her. He closed his eyes and walked out of the doorway and disappeared into the shadowed night.

"Just because I understand,…doesn't mean I'll listen…" Kaoru whispered to herself once her father had faded away from sight.

Kaoru Kamiya quickly tied the knot in her hakama belt. She had stripped of her kimono and rapidly changed into her training outfit. She pulled the ribbon from her hair, letting the ebony tresses cascade down her back, and looked at the fine silk a moment.

Her mothers indigo ribbon.

She gripped it tightly as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She then lifted her hand and opened the folds of her gi and placed the ribbon by her waist for safe keeping. She then took a leather tie and strapped her hair up into another high pony-tail.

She walked over to the sword rack and winced as her sapphire eyes stared at the fixed spot where her father's shinai was missing. Her fists clenched once again. She'd fight, whether her father approved or not. She reached out and grabbed her own shinai and strapped it to her waist just as her father did.

She then looked down at her chest. She grunted in disapproval. She noted that this was probably the first time she cursed herself for having breasts. She would be easily identified as a female in the chaos of the war and she didn't need that.

Walking over to the aid closet, she opened it and searched for bandages. She smiled as she found them. She took hold of them and removed the folds of her gi so that her top was bare. She slowly began to wrap the bindings around her budded chest and winced at the applied pressure.

She finished wrapping and brought the sleeves of her gi up again, greatly satisfied at the difference in her chest size. Although the force put on was painful, if that was her only cross to bare, she could care less.

She inspected herself in a mirror near the corner of the room. She scrunched her face up. She still looked too feminine. The hair?…No, a lot of men have long hair. She then noticed just how her eyes seemed to glimmer, and her face seemed fragile. She couldn't afford that either. She then walked over to the closet once more and searched through it. She smiled when she found a fabric that could fit the job.

She slowly wrapped it around her face lightly so to hide her true identity. She gazed back into the mirror and nodded in satisfaction. She took a deep breath and stood firm. She wasn't going to back out now.

'Daddy…I don't care what you say….I'm going to fight no matter what…'

She tightened her fists again and walked over to the exit of her dojo. She slipped on her sandals used in her training and grabbed an over coat like cape (much like Misao's ) and threw it over her shoulders. She stepped one foot out of the dojo and stopped. She glanced back and tears formed in her eyes.

'Goodbye…my home…'

The gleam of the midnight moon burned down onto the slick edge of a raised blade. Gleaming amber eyes blared down into the eyes of his victim. Fear was obvious to him. He could smell it, emanating off of the man that cowered before himself.

"P-Please…don't kill me…"

The prayer was heard and acknowledged, but it was never answered. A smirk appeared on the sword wielders face.

"You're a coward. An insult to the samurai…there's no reason for me to spare you…"

And without another second of hesitation, the boy brought the blade down upon flesh. Blood quickly dominated the area. The smell of it, the sight, it was all too familiar. The boy smirked and whipped his blade to rid it of the remaining blood before re-sheathing it.

He looked down at the slaughtered body before him. He then snuffed and turned around, leaving it for nature's dealing. He then raised his eyes to look at the starlit skies. He stared for a moment before continuing on his way.

After a short distance walk, he made it to a regular inn and walked inside. He closed the shoji door behind him and started to walk down the halls. An older woman in the room he entered from who was cleaning a fired clay bowl with a dry cloth solemnly welcomed him.

"Back from another killing order from Katsura, Kenshin?"

The boy named Kenshin simply stopped and grunted, then continued on his way down the hall.

The woman simply smirked and shook her head, continuing her drying on the bowl.

"That boy really needs to get a wake up call…he's too young for this…"

She sighed and placed the bowl down next to a tray of them.

The boy sat against the wall of his room silently, his sword propped against his shoulder. His gaze was directed on a small top that wobbled and spun on the tatami mats. He closed his golden eyes and lowered his head, the bangs from his high tied back flaming locks falling into his face.

He sighed as he grabbed a hold on the top and clutched it tightly before he placed it back into the side of his gi. He then pulled his hands out and looked at them. All he could see was the color of blood red. He cursed and got up, journeying toward the well outside the large inn.

He pulled the bucket from the well and poured the gathered water over his body. The chilling water didn't seem to phase him as he continued to drench himself in the frosty liquid. He then dropped the bucket onto the ground and glanced at his hands again.

Red.

They were always strained red. It never seemed to change. No matter how hard he tried to wash off the blood, it was always permanent. Could it actually be that easy? To just drench yourself in water and all your stains would be gone? He almost wanted to laugh at himself at wishing for such a thing.

He sighed slightly and removed his gi from his hakama and rung out the water. He glanced at the clothes line and turned away. Walking over to back entrance of the inn, he hung his gi up to dry underneath the sheltering roof.

Even on a clear looking night as it was, Kenshin could still feel the slight shiver and scent of rain stir him. He walked to the open shoji door and glanced back up at the sky. Sure enough, light clouds had begun to form in the distance. He turned his head and closed the shoji door.

Kaoru walked the streets, journeying toward Kyoto. If she was going to fight side by side with her father, she'd better hurry up. She had no time for dilly-dallying. Her hearth thumped wildly. She was of great skill with her shinai, but her mind still thought about the 'what if's.

What if her idea of great skill was merely a new comer's training lesson for the swordsmen in Kyoto? What if she wasn't good enough to even come in comparison with the swordsmen? What if…what if…

No.

She couldn't think that way. She needed to think strongly. She took a deep breath and nodded her head to confirm. She was going and that was that. She quickened up her pace and started to sprint. It had taken a while for her to change and get ready. An hour or so. And her father had already pre-arranged a carriage.

For all she knew, he could be in Kyoto by that time…or close to it. She really needed to pick up her pace.

Hours had passed by. Kenshin had slowly drifted off into a light slumber, his awareness still in effect. His fist was formed around his sword but his face was soft and almost gentle like. He never could get good nights of sleep. It felt like a dream to finally drift off. The light pitter-patter of rain was soothing and he had drifted off to the sound of it. But that was abruptly interrupted.

"Himura-san!"

Kenshin's eyes opened nonchalantly. His shoji door was forcefully opened and a man, one of his clean up crew, was standing there, panting slightly. Kenshin stood up, placing his sword in his hakama belt.

"What is it."

The man lifted an arm, quivering slightly from the chill of his voice and pointed down the hallway.

"Intruder! We have a person who has found us!"

Kenshin sighed as he made his way passed the shivering man and down the shadowed hallway. He sighed as he looked down at his bare chest. He hadn't thought of grabbing his gi. He shook his head to rid the thoughts and just continued on his way.

He came upon a scene where his men were fighting off one man who stood in the middle. Many on his men lay on the ground, unconscious…not dead.

He looked up from his knocked out men to see that the last of them had also been knocked out. In the hands of the intruder was held a wooden shinai. Not a katana. Kenshin stepped forth and drew his sword.

"Tell me…what type of satsujin-ken do you use…?" Kenshin stretched the word slightly. The man's eyes twitched slightly as he held the shinai in front of him and stepped forward.

"I do not use satsujin-ken… I use katsujin-ken"

Kenshin smirked a little bit as he snickered. He saw a small annoyed gleam appear in the mans eyes as he also stepped forward.

"What style is there in that ?"

The man grunted.

"My style. The Kamiya-kashine ryu. And with it, I'll defeat you…"

Kenshin smirked again as he stepped over his unconscious comrades careful not to step on them. It was almost casual the way he walked up to the man. He then disappeared and came directly in front of the man and swung down. The man quickly recovered from his surprise and brought his shinai up to block the sword

Kenshin simpered at the splitting of the wooden sword and looked at the man directly in the eyes and gave off an impish grin as he whispered in the man's ear.

"Tell me…how can you beat someone with a wooden sword…?"

Kenshin was thrown off the man and landed smoothly on his feet. He scoffed and charged at the man once again and disappeared once more. The man swiftly turned to his side blocked the slash, his shinai splitting more. He cursed mentally. This boy was skilled…greatly skilled.

Kenshin laughed to himself once more as he whispered to the man once again.

"Especially when that someone…is immortal…?"

The man's eyes widened and before he could even gasp, the painful pierce of his own skin brought him out of his thoughts. A large slash from his upper left shoulder down to the middle of his stomach brought him to reality. He coughed up blood an stood his ground, yet struggled to do so. This boy was…the immortal swordsman…? Battousai…? He slowly looked up and his eye widened once more.

On the left cheek of the boy was a fine scar that was somewhat vertical with a small slant that led from his near ear down to about a centimeter away from his bottom lip.

"But…your scar…"

Kenshin smirked and brought his hand up and traced a finger along the fine line.

"Yes…I once fell in love…but that's not going to happen again…"

He walked over to the man crippled over, bleeding greatly and face paled. Kenshin brought his hand and placed it on the man's left shoulder and the man winced.

"…Sir, what's your name…"

The man looked at Kenshin with confusion written in his eyes. Why would he ever want to know?

"…Koshijiro…Koshijiro Kamiya…"

Kenshin nodded his head and tightened the grip on his sword and brought the tip up to the man's heart and closed his eyes, a genuine smile appearing on his face.

"Koshijiro Kamiya,…I will forever remember you…if only more men could think like that…katsujin-ken, I mean…I hope that the new era I'm creating will include that style…"

Kenshin then brought the sword forward and pierced the man's heart before he could say anything more. He sighed as Koshijiro's eyes went blank and blood leaked down his chin from his mouth. Kenshin closed his eyes and said a small prayer. The way of this man's thinking made his heart warm up just slightly. Their ideals were praised by someone, at the least.

His heart then grew cold once more. He walked back inside the inn and whipped the blood from his sword and re-sheathed it again. He wanted this war to come to an end. He had been in it for almost four years and it was beginning to seem like their ideals would never become a reality.

He snuffed as he walked back over the unconscious bodies of his comrades and entered the inn once again. Walking back down the hall he re-entered his room and sat back against the wall and sighed. He wondered just how many more calls he would get that night…

That's all for now! Tell me what you think of it! Please!

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