Chapter 2
Kenshin turned the closed fan over and over in his hands. He opened it and the very edge of the fan sparkled. The kanji for Heaven was red; Kenshin recognized this color too easily: It was blood. His hands where once stained with the crimson liquid ever since he was a boy. He had watched in horror as warriors slaughtered his friends and family when he was just a tiny child, been an assassin-for-hire in his teens, and even murdered his own wife, Tomoe. With the mere memory of her, he smelt her White Lily perfume, felt her petal-soft skin. He remembered when he killed her; he had been blinded and was deaf when he was on his way to rescue her. Her captor and he fought. Her captor lost his weapon so he stole Tomoe's dagger that she carried for protection. He was about to strike with it when Tomoe jumped in the way of his attack, to grab the dagger and protect him. His blade pierced her skin, driving through her shoulder; he realized what he did when he smelt the White Lily perfume. He caught her as her captor fell to the ground; obviously he had struck him too. She took the dagger and slowly put a slash across his face; across the first slash that he got from her fiancé when he murdered him when he was still the assassin-for-hire. Kenshin touched the cross-shaped scar on his cheek; the reason he gave up killing. Kouru came through the door and sat in front of Kenshin. "Still staring at that fan?" "There is something weird about it. There is blood on it but the blade is completely clean; like it's never been used." "She'll be coming back for it, you know." "I know." Kouru walked out of the room and headed down to start the lessons she taught daily as Kenshin continued to ponder over the fan, but mostly, his memories.
