Here's my first Rurouni Kenshin fan fiction! I must warn you that I'm not completely into the series, and I haven't tried to teach myself Japanese, etc etc etc. I'm just bored at babysitting and wanted to write something. I saw the first Samurai X movie last night and so, well, yeah! While the kids drool over CatDog, I'll write a fan fiction! So...if I misspell anything, or get any facts wrong...LEAVE ME ALONE ALL YOU SUPER SUPER HARDCORE FANS! I don't know every single little detail and I don't know all the names and charis by heart. But I do love Kenshin and I'm getting there. So shush!

Summary: First Samurai X movie. On an assignment, Kenshin is forced to stray into the forest to succeed in killing who he set out to. In the peace of the woods and the inky blackness of night, away from others, he lets the walls he has made fall down around him.

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These Hands

It hadn't rained so hard in weeks. Every drop of rain seemed to sweep away some more of the path below, which was already thick and soupy at some points. Now and again, a leaf or some other debris would glide by soundlessly along, or some bird would call out in the darkness and take off in a flurry of wings to find another roost.

But for the rain and the occasional bird, the forest was silent. The inky blackness of night was clutching at the trees, and it seemed none would dare stray from shelter on such a gloomy night.

Then, in the darkness, a glimmer, a strangled cry and nothing more. Blood ran along with the leaves in the water.

Kenshin fell and scrambled backwards through the mud. He could just make out the shape of the man lying there. His sword was there too, he did not want to touch it. It was a beautiful thing, but made dirty and abhorrent by his own hands.

He held his hands in front of him, and he could make out their outline as well. These hands...protecting the innocent...no. How many innocent bodyguards had they slain? No, that was self-defense. But there was that guilt again sweeping through him. No emotion, with no emotion he could hide the guilt he felt.

He felt something almost like panic rising within him, and yet it wasn't. He found he could not force it down within him like he could before. He had let the walls he had so carefully constructed crumble. Now he could do nothing but let the feelings pass and the carefully reconstruct those walls.

They mustn't find me here, they cannot know I am broken...he thought letting his arms fall down to his side.

There, covered in blood, rain and mud, he sat staring into the darkness at the dead man before him. Nothing, he wanted to feel nothing, but he could not block the feeling...

He let out a strangled cry and got to his hands and knees, eyes wide. Slowly, he crawled forward through the muck and towards the body. Where was his sword? If he did it now, they would not know it was his own doing. They would blame the man he had just killed. What harm could they do the man now that he, Kenshin had not already done?

He reached the body and searched frantically for his weapon, a moment passed before he felt the blade slice the palm of his hand. With a cry of pain, he dragged it from the mud and stumbled back.

For a moment, he lay there, staring into the blackness above. Blood oozed from the palm of his hand, which still clutch the blade of the sword. He could not feel the physical pain; the raw emotion was tearing his insides apart.

What have I done?

Something inside him was screaming, screaming for him not to end it. He wanted to live and somehow this did not seem like life to him. Endlessly he killed, each time tucking the guilt and pain way deep inside of him. He was cold, a stone, so how could he be living and feel nothing.

He could see their faces, the fear of the men he had killed and suddenly it seemed contagious. He sat up, gasping for breath, still clutching the blade in his hand, torrents of thought flooding his mind.

I do not want to die! What sort of person have I become? Deciding for men that do not want to die either that it is their time...I have no right to do so. What have I done? Torn them apart and so torn those around them apart. How many innocent women and children have I caused to weep? I have helped none but greedy men...I should have listened!

Suddenly, his master, his teachers face swam before him and he could bear it no longer.

"Forgive me..." he heard the words slip from his lips, a soft whisper.

He struggled to his knees and took the blade and turned it towards himself. He felt it bite into his hands and shook his head. This would end; he would hurt others no longer. Never again.

"I..."

I don't want to die...

"Leave you..."

Forgive me! Oh please forgive me!

"now..."

Please!

"Kenshin?"

Kenshin's eyes snapped open and he felt a tear slip slowly down his cheek. He dropped the blade and got to his feet quickly.

"Is that you?"

"Yes." He picked up the sword and took the cloth offered to him, wiping the blood and dirt from the blade.

"I heard some one scream out here...it hasn't taken you that long to kill one in a while."

"Yes." The emotions were slowly ebbing, edging away. Something inside him reached out and tried to snatch them back. NO. He let them fly away, holding back his heart. To not feel was good.

"Come on, we've got to get out of here."

Kenshin sighed and threw the cloth to the ground and followed his friend away from the body.

"Yes...let us go." He felt no attachment now. The man was dead. He had done his job and that was all. He could go home and sleep soundly tonight.

To not feel was so much easier. But somehow, he wanted to.

I deserve to.

"You okay Kenshin? You're walking awfully slow."

Kenshin hurried his pace "I'm fine" and shoved the thought away.

Yes, to not think was good also.

((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((((())))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))))) Review! I don't really mind flames, but anyone with a nice review gets....ummmmmm....a llama!!