Hey. Sorry I have procrastinated so much. I shouldn't have. I'll try to do better.
Reviews:
Mikayla Mae: My utmost apologies, I made you wait a long time. I think I'll have more time now, so I'll do my best to update more regularly. Thank you for reviewing!
Morpheus Morphine: I have also made you wait a long time. I hope you enjoy this.
vampireking: vampireking… dear, you are a girl. I should know. I live with you.
Your Ripped Up Heart
Chapter Four
A thick fog sank into the empty night streets of Kyoto. Shadows danced across the alleys and by the sides of buildings. Completely quiet. Utterly deadly. Kyoto was the worst place anyone could be. Especially if you were being hunted by the Battousai.
The legendary hitokiri stood within an alley, invisible to the outside world. He wasn't hunting… yet. The time hadn't come. Neither had the signal. He wondered what had caused their plans to go uncaringly.
He inhaled deeply and reviewed his instructions. Wait at the cross roads before the Suzaku Inn for an elderly man to pass singing Suki no Mori. Kazuke Haru would be in room three. He was a fortune teller, a psychic. He couldn't be trusted. Couldn't be allowed to live. So they sent Battousai to do the dirty deed.
In many ways, the Imperialists were such cowards, Battousai couldn't help but think. When they were afraid, they destroyed whatever frightened them. They erased it from their privately unreal world. It was apparently necessary to live as they did. Horrible things had to take place, and thus they would give the order. And they never, ever took the blame.
It was pathetic, of course, but it was none of his concern. He just did what he was told. Like a dog.
Battousai's thoughts were suddenly interrupted as a nasal sort of singing touched his eardrums.
It was time.
Time froze as the Hitokiri blazed through the street. Within seconds, he was in front of the inn. He moved inside swiftly. He didn't need to rethink his decision, whereas it wasn't his decision in the first place. He just needed to get the job done.
It took less than a minute and three men's lives before the killer stood in front of room three. Ignoring the irony, he decided to let himself in.
It was rare that something would surprise the young man. Especially if that something was a room. But he had never seen a room like this before. For a moment, he just froze.
The room was not styled differently than any other in the building. It was what was inside of it that made him pause.
The room was practically covered with outrageously foreign objects. Strange metal boxes with such alien looking attachments such as colored buttons and rubber strings. The clothing covering the floor was completely unrecognizable, with vibrant colors and some strange form of writing he had never seen anything like before. There were metal tubes lying about with metal dials and designs painted around there figure, with some kind of opening at the top. There were other things… oddly shaped trinkets that Battousai couldn't even begin to imagine had any use. His eyes traced the insane room, and he momentarily forgot why he was even in there in the first place. However, when his eyes fell on the man cowering in the corner, his focus returned, but his vivid curiosity also stayed.
Now, Battousai never usually cared about his supposed victims whatsoever. He never wanted to know about whom they were or what their life was like. All he need was a name, a time, and a place.
But right now, he wanted to know more.
He stood over the man and looked curiously down at him. "Who in hell are you?"
The man was small and bald. He humiliated himself by crying, though Battousai chose not to hold it against him. He had come to kill the man. It was understandable that he was terrified. However, he didn't seem like a psychic at all.
The man jerked. "W-what have I done? I didn't hurt anyone…"
"That's not what I asked."
The man shook his head. "My name is Kazuke Haru. What have I done?"
"I know what your name is," Battousai snapped. "But I want to know who you are."
Comprehension danced across the man's face. "I don't belong here…" he said quietly.
"What do you mean?"
Kazuke pounded a fist against the floor. "I'm not from this time! I'm just a simple real estate agent! I… I don't know how I'm here…"
"Not from this time? Well, what time are you from?"
"The turn of the twenty-first century!"
Battousai raised an eyebrow. He had half a mind to just kill the man, who seemed like he had lost his mind. However, he also took note of the strange objects in the room, and the fact that the government wanted him dead. He decided to hear what the man had to say.
"So if you are from the future… then how did you get here?"
"I told you!" the man shouted. "I don't know! I was in one of the oldest houses in Kyoto and… I walked outside and I was in history…"
"And… you have no idea how you got here…" Battousai was getting bored, which was really bad for the man he was talking to.
"I have heard a few rumors," Kazuke admitted. "Some kind of force, linking the past to the future. The man in Yokohama called it 'the Thing.'"
"The Thing?"
"Yes. The man I talked to was called Tetsu Yabara. He told me of some force… please, I beg you. I'm on a mission to get home! Please… don't kill me."
For once, Battousai considered the man's request. "Your world… tell me about it…"
And so the stories began. Insane tales of a place where anyone could communicate with anybody through a box, where people could travel around the world in a day, where nuclear destruction was so feared, where people had been on the moon and discovered space. Of course, Battousai didn't believe any of it.
"You're lying to me," he hissed.
The man seemed to realize what that meant. "NO! I promise you, what I am saying is the truth! I would not lie! Please do not take my dreams away, please…"
Battousai didn't allow himself to sympathize. This dark deed was for a better nation, for a better world. As much as it seemed the small man didn't deserve this kind of fate, it wasn't his decision. He didn't see the full picture. He was only a tool to bring it to pass. If he didn't remain strong, then he would not have the courage to bring about this new era and win this insane civil war. Although he had every advantage, although this man was not even fighting back, he could not allow himself to be so human. He brought his sword up, and then brought it down.
Kazuke's eyes widened as the katana went through his chest. He touched the blade, and then brushed his fingers on his womb. His mouth moved, as if he was trying to bring some great sentence to his lips, but the words refused to come. He reached his left hand up to try and touch the Battousai's face, try to lay a soft hand on the person who was taking all of his hopes and dreams away. He brushed his blood on the cheek of his killer. Tears filled his soft eyes, and his bottom lip shook as he spoke his last words.
"W-why? I never… did a thing to hurt you… I would have overcome… the Thing…"
And with that, the man fell dead.
For an instant, all Battousai could do was stand there and gaze numbly at the man he had just slaughtered. He thought nothing, felt nothing… and yet he could not bring himself to move. He knew he had to. He had to leave. Soon this inn would be surrounded. Not that that would make it harder for him to leave, but his authorities preferred him to disappear before the reaction.
Finally, he removed his katana from the corpse. Inhaling deeply, he removed himself from the scene, promising himself that he would never allow his mind to return to that night.
