Silver Linings
Chapter Two: A Sword Without A Sheath
A sword without a sheath is a dangerous one, readied for its deathly mission. At the same time, a sword without a sheath was also somewhat out of place – like a wanderer without a home.
Himura Kenshin was one such sword. He was a vagabond, a wanderer, a rurouni. His sword was sheathed by his side, in blatant defiance of the laws of the new era, yet he himself wandered aimlessly.
He had not always been like this. He used to have a home, a woman to come home to, even in the messy, bloody days of the Bakamatsu. She had steadied him, loved him, cared for him, been there for him in a way no other had been since the pretty faces, now faded in memory, had taken care of a little red-headed boy in the caravan. But she was gone. Died at his very hand.
He had been known as Battousai, the feared hitokiri of the Bakamatsu era, where all was chaos, and chaos was normality. That was then. He was not Battousai now.
Himura Kenshin had sword never to kill again, and as the scabbard tapped lightly against his side as he walked, he observed the bustling surroundings that indicated peace and coming prosperity in the new age. People here, people there, busying themselves with tradecraft and trade.
People had built the new age, and without people this peaceful era would mean nothing. Thus, the killing had to stop.
And just like the boy of fifteen who had stepped forward for what he believed was right, and fought against his master's will during the era of bloodshed and reform, this man with the cross-shaped scar had made a life-altering decision based on a moral conviction. And hence, the sword that hung by his side was one with a reverse blade. And he wandered, and wandered.
What was he searching for? Redemption? Forgiveness? A home, perhaps?
