Dragostea Nu Are Ochi

Chapter One

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New York City, September, 1945

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With the end of World War II came a peace amongst most men. However, the bitter hatred that fueled the Nazi regime still lived on; it is a part of mans' nature to hate. It is because of hate that we kill. It is because of killing that we hate.

And so begins the vicious cycle that one man was soon to realize. And in his realization he was soon to question: Is doing nothing the same as hating because we do not love each other enough to stop the violence? Is dieing for a cause better then living with nothing to live for? Is courage, insanity and love one in the same?

Are we meant for more then just living?

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A cool breeze met the man as he stepped out of the large New York museum. The wind ruffled his blood red hair and he smiled. He looked up at the sky and winced while shading his amethyst eyes that resigned behind small, rectangular glasses, which sat securely on the bridge of his nose. The man took a deep breath and called a taxi to stop.

"HEY YOU, MORON!!!!!!" a loud voice boomed across the air. The man turned and saw a strongly built black haired man standing impatiently at the door of the building he just left. "Where do you think you're going?!"

"Uncle," the man replied, "my shift ended. I'm going home."

"Didn't you get the memo?! I have an assignment for you!" the black haired man shouted again, successfully gaining the attention of everyone on the street.

"Oro . . ." the man said embarrassed, as he unwillingly returned to the building. He followed the black haired man through the halls of the museum, trying to keep up with him. The man's strides were short compared to that of the black haired man.

"We're here." The black haired man stopped suddenly and the man crashed into him. "You moron. Alright . . ." He opened the doors and there was a long table filled with museum committee members.

The members all smiled and one said, "So is this the boy you promised us, Hiko?"

"Yes. He's kind of small, and not very well built, but he's your man." The black haired man, Hiko, pushed the man forward, into the room.

"What? What's going on?!" the man asked.

"Kenshin Himura, we have a mission for you."

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"Uncle, please don't make me get on this plane!" Kenshin whined again. "I- I don't' like heights!"

"You're such a wimp," Hiko replied. "This will toughen you up." Hiko pushed him onto the small charter plane. Kenshin tried to resist again, but Hiko jabbed him in the chest, knocking him into the plane. "Have fun, you idiot!"

"God, I'll murder you when I'm back, Hiko!" Kenshin shouted as the door of the plane closed. A pilot told him to sit down, and he did so. The pilot took his bag and stored it above him.

"This your first plane ride, kid?" the pilot asked with a smile.

"No... But it will be my last… and please don't call me 'kid', I'm 26 years old." Kenshin muttered, taking out a book to read.

"What cha' doing on a trip like this? All the way to Romania?" the pilot asked, checking instruments and getting the plane ready.

"My uncle, the jerk, owns a museum. He graciously allows me to work there as an archeologist/translator/tour guide." Kenshin sighed, taking out a pair of thin glasses. "Really, I would like to be somewhere else, but who's complaining? It's good pay."

The pilot pushed a few buttons on the control board, "Still doesn't answer: Why Romania?"

"Well," Kenshin sighed again, "as of late, my uncle and the committee members of the museum have taken an interest in early Byzantine art. There are rumors of an old church that holds icons from early A.D. times... My uncle just wants some for his collection. Since I'm the only one who knows about these sorts of things... I was first choice..."

"I see..." the captain nodded. "What's a Byzantine?"

The other pilot cut them off, "Prepare to take off."

Kenshin turned to his book and began to read.

Les Miserables

Fantine

Book I-The Fall

The Night of a Day's Tramp

An hour before sunset of the evening of a day in the beginning of October, 1815, a man traveling afoot entered the little town of...

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"Hey, wait a minute..." a pilot said, tapping an instrument on the plane's dashboard. "That can't be right..."

The other pilot looked over, lazily, "We checked it at the pit-stop in France, why wouldn't it be?"

"I don't trust the French... maybe they messed with it," the first answered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

The second pilot laughed, "Why would they-... Hey! Hey! We're losing altitude!"

"What?! That's impossible!!"

"Jesus Christ!! Look outside!!" he answered, tapping the window, where clouds were rising quickly, and the ground was coming up.

"Pull up!!"

The pilot tugged at the steering wheel, "She won't!!"

"Instruments failing!!" The pilot picked up the radio transmitter, "Hey this is flight 194! Instruments failing! We're gonna crash!" There was no answer, only the crackling sound of static. "Shit!"

The other pilot leaned backwards, "Hey, Sir!!" Kenshin woke up and stared out the window for a second. The pilot shouted at him, "Sir! We're gonna crash!"

Kenshin jumped, "What the hell?!"

"You better sit tight!! We're gonna try to land safely!"

"Do you even know where we are?" Kenshin asked, quickly buckling the seat.

"We're over Romania, but that's about as much as we know..." the one answered.

"Holy shit!! Mountains!!" the other pilot cried.

"Mountains?!!"

"They must be the Carpathian Mountains! I didn't know we were this far northeast!"

The plane flew closer and closer, and there was nothing they could do but wait for the impact and pray.

The collision's painfully loud crash was heard for miles.

The plane smashed into the side of the mountain and was crushed into itself. The metal was twisted and warped everywhere. The two pilots were thrown against the walls, and glass shards were everywhere. Kenshin was thrown form his seat and he landed on the now destroyed floor. Glass shards had cut him everywhere; his face, arms, legs, and chest. Metal beams fell everywhere around him. Kenshin rolled over so he was on his back. He panted and stared at the ceiling while gingerly covering his left cheek with his hand. He pulled his hand back and saw a perfect line of blood trace on his palm vertically.

The plane gave a sudden tug and Kenshin froze. The plane began to tumble down the mountainside and everything bounced around. Kenshin grabbed onto the nearest inanimate object that seemed stable. The small craft vaulted downward and Kenshin was painfully flung from his position the floor to the wall and ceiling. He felt a piece of glass or metal cut him in a horizontal line, overlapping the one he just received. He winced and moved his arm to cover his cheek, but a surge of pain went through him.

My arm must be broken, he thought bitterly.

He opened his eyes and watched the metal being flung around him, praying that the aircraft would stop its movement soon.

His prayers were answered as the small vessel stopped abruptly as if it hit something. He was hurled from his spot and landed on the other side of the plane, where a sharp metal rod pierced his abdomen. He cried out in pain and pushed himself away from the rod with his one good arm.

He lay on the floor, and assessed the situation. His left arm was broken, and it felt as if his right leg was too. He was bleeding profusely from the wound in his abdomen and there were cuts all over his body. The pilots seemed knocked out, if not dead and he had no way of contacting anyone. There probably wasn't a soul around for miles either.

He began to cough from smoke, and realized that there must be a fire in the plane. "I should get out of here..." he spoke to no one, sitting up, "before this thing moves again..." He winced in pain and tried to use the wall to help him stand. He held himself up with the wall and walked out of the plane, clumsily. He looked around at the environment. He was in a forest and there were large trees everywhere. It seemed to be a beautiful day, but he could hardly notice, being in all the pain that he was in. He tried to manage his way through the forest, clumsily, but his foot caught on a rock and he began tumbling down the hill. He clenched his jaw and tried to stop, but to no avail.

A few seconds later his body smacked into a tree, and he halted. He groaned in pain and looked up at the sky, which was barely visible through the trees.

Send me an angel, he silently prayed as he slipped into a realm of unconscious sleep.

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About a mile form the crash site, a young, black-haired Gypsy girl was rushing through the forest. She had, in her hands, a bow and arrow ready to attack. She heard the thunderous crash and began running towards the scene. Her sapphire blue eyes watched from a distance as the plane started tumbling down the side of the mountain.

She followed it down and saw a man with fiery red hair lamely step out of the plane. She began to run over to him, but he tripped and started tumbling downward. She ran after his body and when he hit the tree, painfully, she stopped. His lavender eyes were open and looking at the sky. She looked over his handsome face and the bloody X on his left cheek from where she was as he passed out. She ran over to him and stood over his limp body.

"Ce s-a întâmplat?!" she asked in Romanian. "Domnule!"

She crouched down over him and felt his forehead; he was hot. He's badly wounded, she thought to herself. I should get him to sister… she's a good enough medicine woman... She'd know what to do...

The man stirred and she gasped slightly in surprise.

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Kenshin opened his eyes and a blurry picture of a woman appeared. She had long, wavy, black hair that was loose, and sapphire blue eyes. She looked confused and he blinked, trying to get a clear image.

"Jignire?" she asked, trying to speak simple, so that he might understand.

He saw her better now; she was beautiful.

"Inger," he replied quietly. He opened his eyes more and they just starred at each other.

In that moment, sapphire blue met lavender purple, and the wheels of destiny began to turn...

Round and round...

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A/N:

All translations will be here, along with what language they are in

Hey everyone! I'm back with another story! I really hope people enjoy this one! I know people enjoy my others . . . but you know . . . well I don't know! OKAY! So, this story should prove to be interesting . . . yes . . . yes indeed . . .

I don't pretend to know about planes! I just used what I did know to get by!

Definitions:

(All are Romanian)

Ce s-a întâmplat? - What has happened?

Domnule- Sir

Jignire? - Name? (She doesn't know what he speaks so she used one word. Also, I couldn't find, 'what's your name?' in Romanian… I need a dictionary)

Inger- You'll find out what this means in the next chapter!! Hope to see you there!

Ciao