Disclaimer: I do not own RK.
Notes: This is a Battousai/Kaoru fic. R rated for violence and sexual references (no, this is NOT a lemon). This is an AU fic (it takes place during the meiji restoration, but I change the relative ages and situations of many characters, henceforth making it AU). My current computer runs on a Dutch language operating system, so there is no spell-check for english. I've proofread this but I can't catch everything, so please be forgiving if there are spelling/grammatical errors.
Stolen
Prologue: Just Another Job
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You know, I wonder if they'll laugh when I am dead
Why am I fighting to live, if I'm just living to fight
Why am I trying to see, when there aint nothing in sight
Why I am I trying to give, when no one gives me a try
Why am I dying to live, if I'm just living to die
-Runnin' 2 Pac
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It was just another job.
I'd read the description ten times, envisioning in my mind the facial features and terrified expression as I would approach them, blade drawn. I'd read the name only once. Names weren't important to what I did. In the end, they were all the same- corpses. Like those bandits and slave traders had been long ago.
I approached the dark building, drinking in the scent of the air. It smelled like chrysanthemums. When I left, it would smell like blood. I pushed open the shoji screen door, entering the hall. I removed my sandals. It seemed strange for a hitokiri to respect old customs, but this one was actually rather assasin-friendly. Shoeless, I would leave no trace, and make no sound.
I opened one door slowly, silently. The master of the house and his lady slept side by side, unaware of the approaching danger. I crept into the room until I stood above their futon, where the two lay together after a night of lovemaking. I peered at the man's face. A scar on his forehead, jagged. Long, ebony hair. A nose that had been broken long ago, and had never healed properly.
I glanced at the man's wife. I didn't like killing women and children- they had been the ones Hiko had told me to protect many years ago- but if she awoke I would need to silence her. Then a quiet, quick death it must be.
I raised my sword above the sleeping man and brought it down into his heart, turning it as it pierced through his flesh. He shuddered, and his eyes opened, but death overtook him before a sound could be uttered. His wife continued to sleep.
I left quickly but carefully, making sure my exit was as soundless as my entrance. His blood would touch the woman and wake her soon enough, and I intended to be far away by then. I slid the shoji door shut and carefully stepped into my sandals before dashing off on light feet. Just before I was out of hearing distance, I heard a woman scream.
---
"Himura, great job on the assasination yesterday," complimented Iizuka, "Killing the man while his wife slept- I'm impressed. You've always been a top assasin, but lately you've been just unhuman- untouchable."
"If I were untouchable, I wouldn't need to sneak up on my victims," I replied, taking a bite of my dinner: grilled fish with fresh vegetables on a plate of white rice.
"Well, there's no black envelope tonight, so why don't you come with me?" invited Iizuka, "Tonight I'm going to a... ah... tavern of sorts." I frowned. Ever since my first job, saké hadn't tasted the way Hiko had described it would. Yet it gave me a chance to forget what I was, even for just a few moments. And it meant a couple less hours I had to spend in solitude.
"If you insist," I answered.
--
If there was one thing I hated, it was being lied to. I'd joined Iizuka expecting a bar, someplace I could have some saké and escape for a little while. He brought me to a brothel.
"Iizuka..."
"Lighten up, Himura. You became of age last week- why don't you have some fun?"
"I'm going back to the inn. I have no business here." I stormed out the door, infuriated. As a hitokiri, I had no strong moral values when it came to human life. And I drank occasionally. Meaning often. And although I'd never been with a woman, I hadn't committed to a live of celibacy.
But brothels reminded me of the three girls who had given their lives to save mine.
I returned to the inn alone, walking through Kyoto's dark and deserted streets, the moon and stars lighting my way. It seemed an odd thing to do, as I wasn't on a mission or returning from one. I walked was almost as if I were a civilian, quickly making my way home before a stray sword found me.
I thought of last night's duty, of the man whose own home had not even saved him. Fujitaka Kamiya. He had been master of the Kamiya Kasshin school, but it wasn't Fujitaka the Ishin truly considered an adversary- it was his father, Hito Kamiya, who had given enormous financial support to the Shinsen-gumi. In my mind, the screams of Lady Kamiya echoed.
My mother had screamed when my father died. It was no violent sword death, no sudden accident. It had been cholera, but she screamed all the same. I didn't blame her- I'd been frightened as well. With no men in the family of age, our overlord had come the next day to sell us all for what money he could. But cholera was a quick death, and it spread easily. It overtook my mother and two younger brothers before the slavewagon had arrived.
So I faced it alone.
In that first day, I befriended the three girls being sold as prostitutes, and would have given my life for them had they not done the same for me first. After all, what does an orphaned slave boy have to live for?
I mentally kicked myself for returning to that night. What did it matter? I was a hitokiri now- the most feared swordsman in Japan. The whisper of Battousai sent chills down the spines of every government official who didn't side with the Ishin, and even of some who did. My name was a secret everyone knew. A far cry from what a slave boy should have accomplished. Why shouldn't I be pleased with what I'd become?
---
The next evening, a black envelope came. Tenchuu. Heaven's justice. I was the one to carry it out, as usual, but this night the manner was different. The name inside was Hito Kamiya. Not surprising. After killing his only son, I assumed the man himself would follow.
"Hito Kamiya is very well protected, and is a former Kamiya Kasshin master himself," Katsura described to several of us that evening, "Himura will take care of his life, but the rest of you need to create a distraction necessary to draw as many bodyguards away from him as possible. Fujitaka's widow and young daughter may be residing with Kamiya. Be certain to kill all witnesses."
"Yes sir!" we replied. As if he needs to remind us. That was why I preferred there were no witnesses. I took up the sword to protect the weak, but if I had to kill witnesses, I slaughtered the weak. A man's life is full of contradictions, I suppose.
We set out beneath a moonless sky. Iizuka and a number of other men set off toward the back entrance. After all, that is where an assasin is most likely to strike. I made my way to the side of the wall.
A cry. An order to bring all guards to the back gate. My signal to move. I sprang upward, landing atop the wall delicately, as a student of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu should. I surveyed the space around me, finding it deserted. I looked to the house itself, where a single room lay alit. I can jump from here to the second story promenade easily. There was no need to involve the numerous guards on the first story, after all.
I leapt through the air and landed neatly on the promenade. Wasting no time, I silently stole away toward the candlelit room, opening the shoji screen doors with a crack when I arrived.
I found myself face to face with five of the Shinsen-gumi. Kamiya stood in the center of the room, sword drawn, smirking.
"You must be the Hitokiri Battousai. I must say, you're not quite as intimidating as I'd imagined." The five gathered around me, prepared to spill my life's blood. Not if I spill theirs first.
One of them charged at me, aqua haori flapping madly as he approached. Batou-jutsu. I unsheathed my sword at godlike speed, slashing through his middle as though it were air. He grunted and fell lifeless to the floor, a fountain of blood and fluids spewing from his severed gut. The scent perfumed the air, and I inhaled it.
"Who's next?" Somehow the scent of blood gave me more confidence. Outside of battle I was coolheaded enough, but somehow its scent, texture... even the knowledge of its presence was like an intoxicating drug to me. When I fought a deathmatch, it felt like it was all I lived for. Until the high wore off...
Two of the wolves approached, but I was ready.
"Ryu sho sen! Ryu kan sen!" I cried out. Two quick slashes and they were gone. Blood rained upon me- it clung to my hair, and ran in rivulets down my face.
A fourth wolf charged forward, sword ready. I caught his blow with my wakizashi, while stabbing forward with my katana. It raked his flesh, but did not kill him. Crying out, he thrust forward with an attacked that mimicked Saitou's Gatotsu. But only mimicked. I swung my wakizashi to the side, and it sliced into his chest, slitting his heart. With a groan and splatter of blood, he fell to the ground. Four down, one to go.
"Ready to taste death?" I posed as I raised my sword threateningly toward the last of the shinsen-gumi. His eyes met mine, dark blue and resolved, and accepted my challenge. At least the shinsen-gumi have honor. They do not run when death faces them. It was more than I could say for many of the men I'd been ordered to silence.
We both charged at each other, our swords clanging and vibrating in the instant of connection. Back and forth we parried, niether of us gaining the upper hand for several moments. Suddenly, I parried a little harder than usual, sending him slightly off balance. In the split second he used to regain it, I leapt high into the air, katana prepared for my favorite attack.
"Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu: Ryu Tsui Sen!" I fell toward his shoulder, blade sparkling in the candle light. He raised his sword to defend it, but I fell too quickly, and he failed to block me. Blade sliced through flesh in a sea of red. I landed gracefully on my feet, while he fell gracefully upon the bloodstained tatami.
Then I noticed something unexpected. I felt pain- a sliver of pain on my left cheek, running parallel to my jawbone. I sheathed my wakizashi and with my left finger traced the direction of the pain.
I felt an open wound. In a way, it frightened me. The only ones ever to wound me in battle had been the Shinsen-gumi captains, but I did not recognize this young man. Although he lay dying, I would not stand to carry a scar made by a nameless wraith.
"Who are you?" I investigated. The soldier lay in a pool of his own blood, gasping for air as he fought against the darkness of death.
"Tell me your name!" I ordered.
"K-kenji K-kamiy-ya." He shuddered and breathed no more. No wonder Hito gives the Shinsen-gumi his fortune- his family is with them. A breeze blew in, and I realized the room was empty. I felt no ki but my own, and my eyes couldn't see a trace of Hito Kamiya.
"Craven," I insulted, "Running off while your own blood dies." To forsake one's soldiers was a crime. To forsake one's family was worse. Nonetheless, I had to find him. I dashed through the halls of the mansion, slicing a couple of guards in half as I came across them. But besides those few guards, the mansion was deserted.
I raced outside to find some of the others cleaning up after their fight. Defeat painted their faces.
"Kamiya is-"
"Escaped," finished one of the Ishin, "We saw him leave. We sent a couple of us to assault his carriage, but not even you can outrun a horse."
"I've never failed an execution before. I will see Kamiya's blood spill tonight," I vowed. I dashed through the streets of Tokyo mindlessly, ears open for the sound of hoofbeats, creaking wheels, or whinnies.
But he had been right. Even I could not outrun a horse. I didn't want to return to the inn at all that night- the shame of prey slipping through my fingers was more than I could bear. Get over it... he was the one who sacrificed his honor, not you. I stood in the street dumbly, katana drawn should I need it.
Then I sensed ki. Two ki. An old man and a middle-aged woman. I knew those ki.
I turned to a run-down house. I heard a woman sobbing. No trace remained of the horses, but doubtless they'd been driven in another direction to trick the pursuing Ishin. But not me.
I threw the shoji door open, and the two cowered in fear. Hito Kamiya, sword drawn, and the woman from two nights ago stood in a corner. I slowly removed my katana from its sheath and approached them.
"I hold no personal grudge against you, but for heaven's justice your blood shall wet the ground tonight." I charged at Kamiya, thrusting my katana forward, hoping to connect with his flesh. But even an old master can't be easily underestimated. He managed to parry that first stroke. But only the first.
With my second strike, my blade sliced through his chest, poking out on the other side. I turned the blade, sending blood flying across the small room, then jerked it out. Kamiya never had time to scream. But the woman did.
"No! NO!" she cried out hysterically, "Not Lord Hito too... why, kami-sama? Why?!" I approached her, katana dripping with the old master's blood.
"Why have you done this?!" she pleaded, "Why must you do this to me?! To my children?! Lord Hito said you killed Kouji, and most likely Kaoru as well!"
"I carry no resentment against you. However, no one witnesses my tenchuu and lives to tell of it." She cowered in a corner, screaming and crying insanity, as I slit her throat with one flick of my wrist. Her blood poured out in waterfalls, her last words a choking cry. I flicked some of the blood off my sword, then pulled out a white cloth to clean the rest.
Mission accomplished, I thought to myself as I slid the door open and prepared to leave. But as I did, I chanced to look back for a moment at the two sorry figures, namely the woman. Destroy all witnesses. She hadn't been armed, nor had she tried to fight back. But I'd killed her nonetheless. Like how those bandits killed Akane, Kasumi, and Sakura... I shook my head and shut the door, slowly making my way back to the inn. I couldn't let something like that bother me so much.
After all, it was just another job.
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Note: The "coming of age" for a samurai traditionally takes place at 15 years. Therefore, in this story Kenshin is 15.
I know this is supposed to be a romance story and they pair haven't even met yet (although Kaoru has been referenced) but I really needed to end it there so I could tie up the first and last lines. Therefore, this is the prologue. The lyrics to the song in the beginning don't fit this prologue very well, but it is the set of lyrics that inspired this fic as a whole.