Disclaimer: Same as before; no changes… yet.
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This Is Forever
Chapter 3: "Destined To Fight"
"Princess of the Heavens, I have come for your head."
Kaoru's crystal-blue eyes widened at the proposal the demon gave her. She got out her weapon, hidden in her kimono, faster than any mortal could have seen, and she unsheathed it.
The sheath was made of porcelain, and a gold rope was tied around it. The handle of the sword was gold, and the blade was made of pure, unbreakable silver that was wielded by the God of Forging himself. On the blade was the word "Shinjitsu," and the Japanese characters were made with gold that gleamed in the vastly approaching darkness.
"The Sword of Shinjitsu." The stranger said, gripping his sword tighter in his hand.
"Before I send you back to hell," Kaoru yelled, her voice filled with determination. "Tell me you name, demon!"
The stranger did not say anything; all he did was take the sword in his hand, swing once, and the fence between them was destroyed in splinters.
After the racket outside, the residence of the Aoiya ran outside, wondering what happened. As soon as Aoshi saw the demon standing in a threatening pose, his amber eyes fixed on his goddess, the priest ran to Kaoru's side with his twin kodachi unsheathed.
"This is not a battle for the likes of a mortal." The demon said, his sword held in a threatening manner.
"I know who you are and what you have done," Aoshi announced, placing himself into battle stance. "Battousai."
Kaoru braced herself; she knew the stories of the Demon Prince, "Battousai," and not one of them was good. Everything about the demon was bad news.
"Aoshi," Kaoru said, placing a hand on his broad shoulder. "It's okay, I can handle him."
"Kaoru-sama, this demon is—"
"I know, Aoshi, and I thank you for your concern, but I know what Battousai is capable of." Kaoru announced, holding out her sword towards the demon. "I will fight him like he wants."
"Kaoru-sama…" Aoshi started to protest again, and Kaoru only gave him a kind smile and shook her head. The goddess' priest was forced to go back to the sidelines and watch what will become of her.
"A wise idea, Princess." Battousai said soothingly, yet coldly, spiting out the title 'Princess' like it was a vile taste in his mouth. "Just us two, locked in an endless battle."
Battousai held out his sword, which looked very much like a katana. The sheath was made out of black wood; the handle of the sword was made out of granite that made it easy for gripping. On the handle was a small blood-red ruby that looked so innocent, yet Kaoru had a very bad feeling about it. The blade was made of steel, forged from hell, and very unbreakable.
"If you're going to attack, do it now." Kaoru exclaimed, reading her sword into defensive mode.
"Never be too eager to attack your opponent." Battousai informed, but rush towards the goddess anyway, his sword in offense, and he swung at Kaoru, whom, in turn, blocked it with her silver blade.
The two blades made clanging noises when they came together, and small sparks came off the medals from the effort of the holders, trying to get through to the other.
"There's no way he can kill her, is there, Aoshi-sama?" Misao inquired, gripping her mentor's gi when the Battousai swung towards Kaoru's neck, and the goddess barely deflected it.
"I have no idea, Misao." Aoshi answered, his heart pounding in fear for his goddess as she fought the most terrible demon known to man. "This is not a mortal's battle. It is a battle between a non-ending war of the gods and the demons."
"So, there is a chance of her getting killed?" Misao inquired again, her eyes widening, and they followed up to the man she loved the most in the world.
"I don't know." Aoshi replied again.
Kaoru found it very impossible to fight in a constricting kimono. Her maneuvers were weak and short. More than once she almost tripped and fell. She did not know how long she had been holding out on this battle, but she knew she had better defeat the demon before she lost.
What was there for a goddess to loose, Kaoru did not know; but she did not want to stay to find out.
Battousai swung his sword towards the goddess, and Kaoru barely avoided it. The wind from the swing, however, was still as sharp as the blade itself, and it sliced Kaoru's kimono, vertically, at her thighs.
The once beautiful kimono was now ripped, and the fabric slowly fell away from her legs, revealing smooth, creamy skin.
"It seems Battousai just did Kaoru-sama a favor by cutting away her kimono at her legs." Shiro exclaimed, his hopes rose for the goddess.
"I hope he doesn't stop there." Okina announced, his gaze fixed on the goddess' creamy legs. The rest of the Oniwanbanshuu rolled their eyes heaven-ward and continued to watch the fight.
Battousai found it a bit difficult to get a hit on the goddess. Just one wound, one scratch from his Hell Blade, and she would be finished. The goddess was a very good swordswoman, which he regretfully admitted to himself.
There was only one weakness she had; she fought like an amateur; like she trained herself by teaching herself, or watching others practice, however good she was at the sword.
When Kaoru was wide open for a split second, Battousai saw his opportunity; he rushed at her with immortal speed, his blade outward in front of him.
Kaoru also rushed at Battousai will her immortal speed, on the offence; a perfect way to get a blade stuck through one's body.
The Oniwanbanshuu held their breath as they awaited the result of a battle they could no longer see with their own mortal eyes.
It happened in an instant. Both opponents were on offence, waiting to finish the other with their own swords, and running towards each other blindly with their immortal speed.
The sound of blades clashing together echoed in the twilight as Kaoru's blade scraped along Battousai's steel blade; sparks came off the blades, brilliant light in the rapidly approaching darkness.
Suddenly, the two immortals came back into view of mortal eyes. Both Kaoru and Battousai stood, unflinching, unwounded, with their backs to each other; their blades to their side.
For a second, everyone wondered who won for it had looked like an unbreakable match that each immortal could not beat.
That was until they looked at Battousai, his left profile faced the mortals. His cheek was clear and smooth, until a small cut started to grow larger, longer, and it did not stop until a long, diagonal wound was open and bleeding profusely.
Drops of blood gathered at the base of the wound, and dripped to the green grass at Battousai's feet. When the blood touched the innocent blades of grass, the grass suddenly darkened and died right there; wilting out of existence.
Battousai put his hand to his cheek, having felt it stinging and throbbing for an unapparent reason to him. When we withdrew and viewed his hand, he saw the vertical blood mark beginning from the tip of his middle finger to the base of his palm.
Cursing, the demon slowly looked behind him at the goddess' back. Kaoru also slowly turned around, having sensed her enemy glaring at her.
When the goddess turned around, everyone saw her for who she truly was. Kaoru was no long disguised as a mortal, but now was a heavenly being with an awesome aura.
Her crystal-blue eyes were even brighter, shining with intelligence, wisdom, beauty, and above all, fury. Her head was raised in defiance towards the demon that challenged her, and the fury surrounding her aura was more powerful and poignant than the flames and pits of hell.
Battousai, however, was not one to give up so easily; but the stinging and throbbing of his left cheek suddenly threw him into reality about what he was truly up against. He understood, then, why the goddess, Kaoru, was the most feared in hell.
She was the goddess that Battousai had been sent back to hell again and again in her name. He underestimated her like a fool, and like a fool, he cursed himself for his stupidity.
Feeling ashamed, and like a dog running away with its tail between its legs to go lick its wounds, Battousai sheathed his sword.
"It seems," the demon began to speak; straightening up out of offensive mode, yet Kaoru did not do the same. "It seems you were desperate to keep your life, however long you can. As a treat, we will rest, but I will challenge you again at another time, without our current audience."
Battousai glared fiery ambers towards the mortals, and then looked back at Kaoru.
"Enjoy your stay on earth, Princess."
After the last statement, the demon was gone within the blink of an eye, leaving without a trace.
"Coward!" Misao suddenly yelled as she reached into her priestess' gi and pulled out her kunai. "He's running away like a coward!"
"Misao, contain yourself." Aoshi commanded calmly, yet strictly.
Misao grudgingly stored away her kunai and mumbled within her throat. "Why did you let him get away?" The priestess asked the goddess after she sheathed her sword.
"I honestly don't know." Kaoru replied, her eyes downcast. "I guess I feel sorry for him because with a father like his, and being born from the fires of hell, he really doesn't have a choice to act the way he does."
"You're going to regret that." Misao said, still a bit angry that Kaoru did not finish the Battousai. "But your goddess form is so awesome!"
The Oniwanbanshuu shook their heads at their Misao's sudden change in subject, and they calmly walked back into the Aoiya; the priestess still talking rapidly and excitedly about Kaoru-sama's goddess form.
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It was a very dingy part of the city where all the immoral seemed to gather. Guard dogs barked in the distance to ward off anyone that dared to come near their master's house. Screams of women in alleyways echoed, but went unheeded, the sound of clothes ripping, sobbing and cries for help, and then the sickening stench of lust.
In dirty houses and apartments, arguments could be heard across the street along with the sounds of one spouse' skin slapping the other spouse' skin; then the sound of the police sirens. Gang fights could be heard, along with the popping sound of a gun going off.
A lone figure walked under the streetlights; his small hands were and rested in his jean pockets. He was dirty; his clothes were dirty and torn from years of wear. He kept his brown eyes fixed in front of him, neither looking left nor right.
Suddenly three older men walked out in front of the other one's path. The boy stopped, still looking straight ahead, and he calmly tried to walk around the three.
"Hey, punk, where'd you think you're going?" one of the men said, grabbing the boy by his collar.
"None of your business." The boy answered, not even looking at the men.
The three men laughed their thick tongue laugh and withdrew their switch blades from their pockets.
"Give us your money." Another man demanded, banishing the blade in the boy's face.
"I don't have any." The boy answered, not bothering to look at the blade in front of his face.
"Well, if you don't have any money, you'll have to give us a portion of your blood as payment for walking on our turf."
The third and final man smacked the boy across the face and blood dripped from his mouth and down his shirt. The men cracked their knuckles and got ready to beat the life out of the poor boy.
The boy's first instinct was to start praying to his favorite goddess, but then he held his tongue and slowed his thoughts.
She never heard him, no matter how much he prayed; she never heard him.
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Another man was walking down the same path. His brown hair was spiked up, and a red bandana was tied around his head. In his mouth, he bore a toothpick which he chewed the end of out of a nervous habit.
He walked in the same manner as the boy did; his eyes straight ahead, looking neither left nor right, his left fist in the pocket of his jeans, and his right hand held his white jacket hanging over his shoulder. On the back of the white jacket, the symbol "aku" was bared on it.
A few streetlights ahead, a scene was breaking out that made the man's blood boil; three men beating up on a poor, helpless boy.
Cracking his knuckles together, the stranger decided to do something about it.
"Hey, leave the poor boy alone!" he told the thugs when he was within their reach.
The three men stopped beating on the boy lying on the asphalt and they glared his way at the man who dared to challenge them.
"Who the are you!" one of the men asked, straightening up to face this strange man.
"My real name, you need not to know, but you may know me as 'Zanza.'" The man answered.
"'Zanza!'" the other man almost laughed. "You're reputation doesn't suit you; you look nothing like the rumors I've heard."
"Yes, well, that's why they're called rumors." Zanza announced with a chuckle at the man's stupidity.
"Hey, shut the hell up!" the man rushed towards Zanza with his switch blade in his hand. The man, Zanza, just stood their, unmoving, and the blade connected with his skull.
The boy, now watching the fight in wonder, watched as, not Zanza, but the other man cried out in pain as he dropped his switch blade. His arm was twisted and broken in gruesome ways, and the man fell to his knees.
"Anybody else wanna try to take me on?" Zanza asked coldly, glaring at the other two men as they slowly backed away, and then ran; leaving their comrade to the strong man's mercy.
Snorting at the pitiful sight of two men running for their lives, and leaving another to die, Zanza calmly walked around the man whimpering on the ground, and walked over to the boy.
"Hey, kid, are you alright?" Zanza asked, about to pick the boy up and set him on his feet, when he suddenly jumped to them on his own.
"I'm not a 'kid!'" The boy yelled at the man who saved him. "My name is Myojin, Yahiko, descendent of the Tokyo Samurai!"
"…You're still a kid."
By that comment, Yahiko grew angry, and he attempted to hit Zanza, but all the man had to do was hold the boy with his hand as he tried to come at him with fists swinging.
"So where do you live?" Zanza asked.
Deciding it was no use, Yahiko sighed and replied, "The apartments on the corner."
"Where're your parents?"
Yahiko stiffened, folded his arms and looked away.
"If I had parents," the boy answered after a while. "Do you think I would be walking the streets at this time of night?"
"Good point, kid. Well, I guess there's no choice." Zanza said, picking Yahiko up by his collar, and carrying him like luggage as the boy cursed and yelled, and threw fists everywhere he could. "We'll have to find you a new place to stay."
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Growling and cursing at himself, Kenshin walked down the streets of a worthless part of the city. It seemed to be the only place where a demon could settle; it reeked of sin and injustice. His wound ached, stung, and bled without any signs of stopping.
How in all the pits of hell did that worthless little bitch beat him in a sword fight!
Kenshin staggered down the sidewalk, looking for a place to stay. He hated himself for backing out in the fight. Had it not been for that, the fight would have continued on for days without any stopping.
Suddenly, a sharp pain from his cheek traveled up to his mind, and Kenshin had to quickly grip the wall next to him to prepare for what happened next; he saw all his victims, clearly, in his mind. He heard the echoes of their screams in his ears, and instead of delightfully enjoying their pain, in their sadness, the demon felt something he never felt before.
The feeling traveled from Kenshin's brain down to the pit of his stomach where it settled there, without any clues as to why it was happening or when it would go away. The foreign feeling was so strong, needling at the demon's stomach that he was forced to have several gagging reflexes.
Kenshin gripped the wall so tightly that the tips of his fingers left indents in the wall, and the skin wore away, allowing fresh blood to seep out of the fresh wounds. Not knowing what else to do, and desperate to make the aberrant feeling go away, the prince raced into the apartment building whose wall he was gripping.
Blinded by horrid visions of his dead victims, Kenshin raced up the cracked, stone steps; running up four floors without any sense of direction. He ran down the hallway, to the last door, and he kicked it open, prepared to kill anyone that was in there in his current state of madness.
Only silence and darkness greeted the distressed prince. The apartment was dingy with only a filthy window for light. The streetlights were the only source of light that could be offered to the pitiful place.
The whole place was small; a small living room with broken furniture, torn threads and stuffing from it thrown all over the place. The walls were cracked and the paint was chipped. Nails stuck out of the wood without anything to hide them, such as portraits and other such pictures.
The prince swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him; he had been in that apartment before. Of course, the place was a lot cleaner than the time he arrived, possessing another mortal's body to commit the hideous deeds.
The residents of the place seemed to be long gone. Kenshin would have believed that had a lone blanket not been lying on the couch. The prince picked it up and sniffed it; the fabric smelled like tears, sadness, and hatred. It smelled of a young boy that wrapped himself in it when the place he called home was ruined; blood was spilt here, and the boy had been there to witness it.
Looking to his left, Kenshin saw a dirty, dusty side table that bore only one item: a family portrait. There were three people; a man who looked proud and happy. As he stared at the portrait with his golden eyes gleaming in the darkness, a suddenly image of the same man came back into his mind's eye; he stood up to him, the Demon Prince, in defiance while the prince himself sliced the man up like he was nothing.
Kenshin blinked, the same feeling in his stomach tightened, grew stronger, as he continued to look at the portrait. The woman in the picture had eyes that were bright with happiness, and wisdom.
Suddenly, another image came into the demon's mind; after he killed the mortal man, he saw the woman. Her husband died protecting her, and she looked at him, tears in her eyes, but filled with anger. She was afraid and Kenshin gulped the feeling up, wanting more.
He slowly tore her apart as her screams of pain, and screams of yelling to the son behind her, the son she had been protecting, to run as fast as he could; run far away from there. The son was frozen with fear.
Kenshin looked back at the portrait and saw the woman was holding a boy in her arms. The boy was proud and protective of the family; his brown eyes were bright, and his black hair was spiked.
In the demon's memory, the boy was huddled under the blanket that was on the couch. He cried as he saw his parents slaughtered before his eyes, and he cried out to "Kaoru-sama" to save him. That was when that damn priest and priestess came onto the scene and performed an exorcism while the boy ran away.
Kenshin suddenly coughed as the unending feeling in his stomach heightened, and he rushed over to the window, quickly opened it, and vomited over the edge. After several heaves, the demon came back from hanging out the window, and he flopped down on the ground.
A mist started to gather in Kenshin's eyes, and he blinked it away. After that, he felt warm trickles running down his cheeks; on his left cheek, the warm tickles started to sting his opened wound, but soon after, the bleeding stopped.
Kenshin raised a hand and wiped away the warm tickles, very sure to see a ruby liquid. What he saw shocked him; on his hand was not the red blood he expected, but a clear, salty liquid that look somewhat like water. The prince had seen them before, but not coming from him; tears.
Kenshin flicked the offending liquid away from his hand, but more of the liquid fell from his eyes in a steady stream. Shaking his head, the demon's eyes landed on a glass figure lying on the floor.
He picked it up, holding it gently, and saw that very familiar pose; she was holding up a dove in her left hand, her head high and proud, and in her right hand she held a sword. On the sword, in Japanese characters, was the word "Shinjitsu."
More of that offending, salty liquid fell from Kenshin's eyes, and he gripped the small glass statue so tight that it shattered in his hand. Trickles of a more familiar liquid seeped through the cuts on his hand and dripped to the floor.
"What the did that bitch do to me!" the prince growled to himself.
"You've been cut by the Sword of Shinjitsu." A male voice suddenly said in the darkness.
Kenshin jumped up, his hand to his sword, and he saw a little red light brighten, and a smelly smoke vented from it.
"Who the hell are you?" Kenshin demanded to know, his eyes brightening to see in the darkness surrounding them.
The man came more towards the prince, and into the light. Kenshin saw the man was wearing a Kyoto police uniform with white gloves, he had semi-long hair with four strands handing from his brushed back bangs, and in his "smoking hand," or his right hand, he held a cigarette, and his eyes were the same as the prince's eyes; golden yellow.
"Ore wa Saitou, Hajime desu." The man answered with an infuriating smirk. "Your father, Hiko, sent his little spy from the heavens to tell me to watch out for you. Obviously, he saw your pathetic display while fighting Ka—"
"Don't say her damn name." the prince interrupted coldly, hating everything about this guy.
"Kaoru." Saitou finished with a smirk as his opponent's temper rose.
Kenshin studied the man, looking him over with distaste. Something in his blood told him that this Saitou was not truly a demon. Something about him… and then the prince saw what it was, and announced it with distain.
"I don't need help from a worthless hanyou!"
Saitou's eyebrow rose as he calmly puffed on his cigarette. "Though a half demon I may be, I see from your current state that you do."
Kenshin bit the side of his cheek to stop his remark towards the infuriating man. "Okay then, what do you think I should do?"
To Be Continued…
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Important Note: Since I will be ending college soon, and I am going out there in the working field (yay!), I will not have access to a computer throughout the week. That means I will only be able to type on the computer on weekends (library time) which in turn, will mean I will not be able to update every weekend. I will definitely update, though not as much as I would like. Please be patient with me though my updates. Thank you so much for your reviews and your time.
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royal blueKitsune: I love getting reviews like yours, just like with unwanted fate. Thank you for your interest in the second chapter; keeping the readers' interest is a challenge that I very much enjoy! Well, as you read, Kaoru didn't try to convince Kenshin that she is not a goddess. Rather, they had their little, erm, disagreement. Kenshin is staying with Saitou, the half demon. Heehee! Who've thought that? (whistles innocently). He's still Mr. Aku. Soku. Zan, however (to a certain level). How can he stand by his life philosophy while being a half demon, and helping Kenshin? You'll find out. Aoshi does love Kaoru/Kagome (I'm a big fan of Inuyasha, that's why I put the name in there), and he wants to always protect her, but he mostly respects and admires her for saving his life. Aoshi does see Misao, but not because she's beautiful; he sees her heart and her undying happiness, no mater what happens. Your review was a challenge, and I love challenges, so I don't think it was long. Thank you so much for your review!
Sims are awesome: Thank you so much for your time, and for your review!
Reignashii: It's better? (smiles and blushes) Well, thank you! And thank you so much for your review!
are-en1: Someone actually reads the Author Notes? You are so cool! I always thought of the rurouni side of Kenshin as just an "innocent" act that he puts up. You know, he acts like an idiot, but actually isn't; but in some ways, yes, I also think rurouni is an idiot. Misao is jealous of Kaoru; you guessed right. You'll find out why later on. Thank you so much for your review!
Snow Lepord: Poor Aoshi tried, but he was booted out not only by Battousai, but also by his own goddess, Kaoru. Poor, poor Aoshi! (cries) Maybe Misao will comfort him… (heehee!) Thank you so much for your review!
simplee sweet: I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thank you so much for your review!
Angel Himura: I like your name; it's cool! I don't think this one was much of a cliffhanger… was it? Thank you so much for your review!
Akai-Kumori: In a way, I am sort of a newbie. I've been on for (counts on her fingers) five years. That's still a newbie? I had another name, but I didn't know that was no longer posting lemon stories (blush), someone reported me, and I got booted off. Thank you; you're cool, too! Thank you so much for your review!