Author note: I know this chapter can get a little confusing but bear with me, my thoughts have a mind of their own. But I promise I'll get the plot moving soon. But oh god, I was seriously distracted when I wrote this chapter. I'm kind of disappointed that I only got one review, but hopefully when I get the ball rolling, the reviews will pick up. One more thing, MySpace is a no-no kids.

You know it. I know it. We both don't own it! Yup, that was my version of a disclaimer.

x - x - x

002

The Katana's Sheath

For as long as he could remember, Battousai was accustomed to silence. The silent voices of his victims, their wordless and desperate pleas as the crimson stained his sword as a quiet pool of life's water slowly progressed around his feet. Many of the Bakufu had marveled at his ability to finish quickly -- without a sound. Then like clockwork, he would delve into the darkness of night, the moon his only witness for each and every night that these acts would occur. But, as fate would have it, there was no silence in his consciousness. It was always ticking, always moving, a crescendo of madness and blood lust roaring in his ears as he made a kill. He was calculated, articulate and capable and designed for a single purpose. He was heaven's punishment, a perfect and concise killer. He lived upon his adage, quick, exact, decisively.

If he did not remember their names, sure enough he would remember their faces, but the Battousai knew that these were needed sacrifices, whether it was a child, a woman, or an elder, the future was built upon the blood of the guilty and innocent. Guilt and regret would be stones tied to his feet, holding him down, and he had always resolved that in return, he would never forget the forgotten. Most of all, he would not drown in the sea of blood by created his own hands.

There were many countless and sleepless nights, where he would sit quietly wiping his blade and recollect. He would note how his hands were calloused with time, and he could only remember the strenuous trials of his childhood. One of normalcy would reminisce on pleasantries, but his life revolved creating an era, he was never truly a child.

No matter of these civil hands unclean, he thought. The helpless, the indigent, and the innocent their bodies paved the path for a new era. He remembered those who had sacrificed to save him, as Shinta. From the moment he had buried their bodies, he decided then that this, had become his inevitable and steady path to protect, his sanity would become the cost.

The world that he lived in was not a kind one, corruption and suffering were the surplus of the common life. Despite the political unrest, and the deterioration of the people, there were demons, roaming, teeming through the back alleys and many in the form of people unbeknownst to many, creating havoc weakening the barriers that many strove to maintain.

As ironic as it was, he had no humanity left of his own. It is said, that any human can become a demon in oppressive or extreme circumstances, the seedlings of insanity will take root, and the shreds of humanity left will dissipate, leaving you an essence of your identity and essential being. He, Battousai, a hitokiri whose hands stained in the river of blood, had become a demon. And in the Shogunate's eyes, he was a stain upon their system, and needed to be removed immediately. There was no room in an era of calm for a murderer.

Then as if things had perfectly clicked into place, she had come to him, her eyes pulling him into the depths her soul, and the box that seemed to encase him had slowly opened. He could remember her demure expression which had only managed to agonize him, and her quiet and soft remarks, which always managed to put him on edge. He could remember the soft stains of red that splattered onto the white of her robes, like the color of iris blossoms that wept from the trees. The fragrant smell which seemed to seep into his clothes, and strongest in the rain, that even he, had forgotten the scent of blood.

It was she, who had become the sheath of the katana, softening up the harsh edges to his soul.

"Tomoe," He would whisper. Her name had become a soft prayer, sweet yet bitter on his tongue. He would listen intently, her name echoing across the ages. She had become his captor, as well as his escape. Battousai laughed harshly into the nothingness, staring out into the empty expanse. It was because of her, that he was here, trapped body and mind to an amulet that had once given her.

He had loved her once, yes; he had contemplated the foolishness of his actions. He remembered as he had planned, to sweep both of them away, to marry her. The stray cat had found a home in his arms, and the little happiness that she had managed to show him, had led him to his untimely entrapment. Sardonic, he pondered. What a woman could do to a man. He remembered his visit to the market, eyeing the vendors carefully, setting his eyes on a beautiful gilded amulet. He had bought it, amused, how she would think of the rubies, red and deep; a remembrance of their first meeting in a rain of blood.

How much time had passed since then? Had she fallen to the throes of time? He had pondered many petty questions, for he had remained a timeless being. He had not aged a day from the last since he had left the world; he was still strong, still quick, and still lethal.

And even in the nothingness he had become accustomed to; an assassin did not sleep.

End Notes: I know, you want them to meet already. But no go guys, not in this chapter. But soon I promise. Battousai is my favorite alter-ego of the two; I believe he deserves a chapter of his own. There are slight references to Tomoe, and as much as any KK or BK shipper hates to hear it, she sets off a lot of things in this fic. So bah! I will explain some things, I put a lot of imagery and metaphoric things and such which are direct references from the Samurai X movie – which I highly recommend for those die hard RK fans – such as the iris, stray cat, and yes the katana sheath. Woo~ for research. And thank you to Hikaru Utada for giving me such a good song to listen to while writing, FYI! Listen to it(: I appreciate all the watches, but please, review and make me happy? Reviews are my motivation guys.

Lovee ya~ chuuuu,

Robyn

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