Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, I am just borrowing it's characters for my own personal use. I do however own Mina and other characters who are never heard or spoken of in the anime series, manga, and movie.




Author's Note: This fic is supposed to be angst above all else, so don't flame me or anything like that if there's no action during the chapter. Despite having a dark tone, this story will have a happy ending.




Prologue




In the white powder of the season, before the gray skies and bustling city below, I stand here. I stood here five years ago, for what reason, I shall reveal later. I stand here with my faithful followers, all whom I could easily trust my life with. Rikumari Gonji, an ex-samurai of the fallen Tokugawa Shogunate, I can always depend on his advice. Smith Wesley, a foreigner from America, a "cowboy" and a samurai in one, his skill with the gun and sword are equal. Shizaku Ryosuke, my student who I have trained since he was born, I know I can trust him with anything, he is after all, a son to me. Futami Hideo, ex-Iga Ninja, an odd and silent fellow, but I know he's trustworthy. Kurotara Yurika, a tragic girl, cold and bitter, but I can't blame her for how she is, that I can't. And I, Himura Mina, once known as the Hitokiri Kensai, the creator of this and an upcoming and new era, leader of these followers that stand by my side. Who are we, we are the Mitsurugi Seven, the dragons that will cleanse this nation of it's sins.

Things weren't always like this. There was once a time when I didn't have to live by the sword, when I didn't have the name "Himura". There was once a time in which I lived a normal life, a life in the country. My name back then was...Tachibana Minako. I was a simple farmer's daughter, that I was, no real worries in the world. Yet it all came crashing down one day, leading me to tread the path of a killer, the path lined with the river of blood. I continue to tread that path even now, even if I am not the one who brings about the rain to this river. How I miss the days when I held the Tachibana name, I wish I could live through them once more...

Why must I think such things? I suppose it is true that in order to face the future, you must face the past first. Where shall I begin in my story of life...? I guess this all really began eighteen years ago, when I was twelve...