Hey guys! This is the last chapter of Death's Beauty. So, how will it end? Will Tori save Yasuka and Namako from possibly getting their asses kicked? Will Kenshin reach his daughter in time? Or, horror of horrors…WILL TORI DIE?!?!?!?!? Read to find out!
She was still a child. My child. Yes, what she had done was wrong, very wrong, but she still needed my protection. I had promised Kaoru and Kenji that I would bring Tori home, and dammit I intended to make it happen! Even if it involved death on my part…but part of being a parent meant sacrificing yourself for your children's sake.
Kyoto loomed before me. When I had come here the second time, the city had looked calm and peaceful. Contrary to me days spent as Battousai. Now, it looked the same. Maybe it was the night that made it seem so foreboding and ugly. Perhaps it was my own fear at what I might later discover, but whatever the reason, my heart roared in my chest. I could feel my blood pumping urgently, screaming at me to go on. And I would. Even if I had to go to the edge of the earth, I would.
In alleyways and less traveled streets, shadows danced and writhed. Macabre actors in melodrama to horrifying to even comprehend. The wind whispered evil things from those shadows. Tempting, and sultry, the voice of the wind moaned endlessly on into the blackest of the black. Smells grazed my nostrils, dirt, cherry blossoms…and blood. I stood there for a while, as I began to get wrapped up in my own memories. When the recollection had hit me, I had been expecting the scent of white plum. Tomoe…are you watching over her? Please…until I get there…keep her safe….
* * * * *
Yasuka. Namako. Their lives now depended on the swiftness of my feet. Wind brushed around my ankles, like invisible ropes, trying to ensnare me and bring me down. It seemed like everything was on the Yakuza's side tonight. Gritting my teeth, I ran faster, driving myself on into the ebony fangs of the night. Tree branches scraped against one another, scratching like old bones. With the noise, came Kurodami's words:
"You speak of the organization as if it has become your life! I know that you have a family; a loving family that would like nothing better than to see you safe."
Well, not that it mattered. He was dead. End of story. His words meant nothing. I kept telling myself that over and over as I continued my run. But those words, like a wet heavy fog, clung to the dark base of my mind, whispering again and again those words that I never wanted to hear.
I was nearing my destination. Suddenly, like a knife slash at my heart, shock hit me. My feet dug into the ground, as my toes vainly gripped anything they could find to avoid my face getting a painful meeting with the ground. Blood. The smell was everywhere. My senses were battered by an endless brigade of sights, smells, and screams. Bodies lay littered all over the ground, and most of them still had some bit of life in them. They lay, like fish flopping and gasping for air as they suffocated in their own blood. Some of them were cradling their entrails like deformed children, others were split apart into pieces, strewn about like useless items. Chunks of flesh sat in pools of blood, the stench of death was thick in the air.
Was I too late? Had I failed my mission? No! My mind shrieked. It was an animal's cry, something I wasn't used to hearing…or had it been there all along? Disguised as the sweet, tempting voice I used when killing my targets.
(You speak of the organization as if it has become your life)
While my mind froze in the clawed grip of terror, my feet took to their own accord. Like twin lightning bolts, they struck the ground; desperation drove my body on, but fear held back my mind. I was no longer a human, but what I was sooner or later to become. An animal. A predator, whose sole purpose was to track down, hunt and kill. Emotions, there were none. Reasons, there were none. Heart…even that no longer existed. With a wild scream of blood fury, I lashed out at anyone who still lived. A beast…you are a beast… Spoke a little girl's voice. I could feel her trembling as she watched my attack, with wide frightened eyes.
Yes, I was a beast, but I didn't care. After all, that's what beasts were made for: killing.
All men and women are beastly, and when skinned, a beast in velvet is a beast for all to see.
Truth had never come in a darker sentence. Red liquid vines shot through the air, only to end up on the ground, going back to the earth, near the flesh that had spawned them. I no longer saw clearly. Red. That's all there was. A deep red anger and lust that was darkening to an ebony rage and hunger as I continued to fight, and free the animal of carnage that had long since been trapped inside the fragile cage of glass.
And what carnage I racked! I screamed, I raved, I slashed! I severed, cut and tore! How loudly they all screamed. How slowly they all died.
Nothing could leash the monster that had broken free of its restraints. With open arms, I embraced my darkness, surrendered to my own bloody whims, and killed without discretion. Everything was out in the open now. There was no need for hiding, no skulking, only bold and brazen sacrifice. Screams, and weapon clashing on weapon sang sweet love songs in my ears as I fought with enemy after enemy, killing person after person. My body had become a vessel for the utmost slaughter. The dry, blank world around me was dyed a wet, lush red as blood arced through the air, like macabre ribbons, celebrating an event that would never be spoken of during the pure light of day.
I killed and killed. On and on, never stopping. It felt good. So good. My hands became stained with blood, as my spirit became weighted down with the souls of those I murdered.
* * * * *
Blood, fear, death, and the dying. All these things and more met my eyes. Destruction had come in and left a dark gift for the people here. Memories flashed before my eyes, and all of a sudden, I was Battousai again. The revolution was at its peak, and the fighting had reached a screaming at a bloody climax, like a masochistic harlot. The man of twenty eight years, the man of forty four years, they had yet to come, they were far before me, and would not exist until much later. The old…no it was not old…not yet…the urge to kill welled up within me. Black bubbly acid in a well just as dark, and quite deep. I was filled to the brim with the insane lust for murder.
Then, a wild, scream tore me out of the past, and I was no longer Battousai, but Kenshin Himura, husband and father. I gripped my hand tighter on my blade for I knew who had made that scream. Bringing my body into a full fledged run, I struck out, praying with every step that I would not be too late.
* * * * *
Ecstasy. Nothing but pure ecstasy. White fireworks sent off a display of ivory when the sounds of battle met my ears. My heart beat a wild and erratic pulse, my chest heaved with each and every breath I took. Yes! Yes! This was it! This was what I had longed for! That undesirable pleasure! That unreachable thrill! It was right here, and oh gods how it felt so good! Thought no longer penetrated the thick walls of bone that surrounded my brain. Only a rich desire, that oozed with a syrupy slowness into the grooves of my brain, soaking into my mind.
As the night wore on, the number of people dwindled, but I still was not sated. My skin was dyed a deep red. My body was perfumed from head to toe in the heady scent of blood. Corpses lay around me, like dolls in a grotesque playhouse, they lay in different positions, soaked and cooling. The ground beneath me had become soft, and mushy, it's amazing how much blood is in a person.
A rustling in the brush nearby caught my attention. Heart rate picking up, breath catching in my lungs, I smiled, revealing all of my teeth in the darkness. My sword rained red onto the ground; slowly, I lifted it to my lips, and licked off some of the decadent scarlet fluid. It traveled slowly down my throat, and I savored its taste, like the richest of wines. Off in the distance, thunder rumbled, slow and soft. A prequel of battle to come. I stood, with my weapon raised, and waited.
* * * * *
Tori…Tori….what have you become?
Just the mere sight of her, tearing through flesh, and ripping apart bodies was enough to send chill after chill racing down my spine. And her face! That grin she wore, that evil lupine snarl that widened with each scream…she enjoyed it! I was horrified, appalled, and disgusted…by my own daughter. I saw nothing except an infinite red. Red like blood, red like Tori's hair. Strange indeed.
People dropped like flies, adding onto the steadily rising body count. Then, there were none. No opponents, no more people to kill. Just my daughter, standing there, bathed in blood, looking like some dead guardian to the Underworld. I watched her chest heave as she took in the smell of blood that had seemed to replace the life giving oxygen.
What would she do? Would she come back from that bloody reverie, and realize what she had done, or would she continue to go through the night, killing and killing, like a hungry animal? Either way, I would not like to see it. She continued to stand there, basking in the euphoria of her darkness, like some blood lover.
My left foot was beginning to hurt from crouching behind the bushes for so long. I knew it would be risky, but I needed to relieve the pain, and alert Tori to my presence. Slowly, I reasserted myself into a battle crouch, rather than a sneaking crouch. Twigs snapped under me, and the small, dwarf branches rustled. I waited, with bated breath as she turned to look at me. To my horror, she still had not come out of that languor. White teeth glowed in the dark as her lips stretched back to form a smile that is often seen on victims of the insane. In her hands, she held her blade. It seemed to be eternally raining blood. She raised it to her lips, and licked off the blood. Slowly, she swallowed it, and the way her eyes lit up, she was savoring its copper tang.
I had two choices: Fight or flight. Anyone with a brain in their heads would know I chose the former.
No sound, no shouting, no screaming. I simply flung myself at Tori, and whipped out my blade. There was a blinding clash as she brought hers up to counter my attack. Gritting my teeth, I broke the connection between us, and spun out of her reach. Tori grinned, and slashed out at the air, spraying blood everywhere. Her eyes! She didn't recognize me, so deep was she in the recesses of a murderer. Her turn now, with all her might, she dove for me, seeking to plunge her sword deep into my heart. I dodged, but at the last possible moment, my foot struck a pool of blood, and I slipped to the ground. Thunder sounded once again, closer, and more urgent this time. A cold wind tugged gently at me body, trying weakly to tear me apart before she could.
What could I do? How could I bring her back from that precarious brink? There was only one way, and I had said it before I left: Her father would not be able to get to her. Only another man slayer.
"C'mon, is that all you've got? Seriously. I thought you'd be tougher."
Oh I was. Kneeling, I concentrated on the darkness caged inside me. With quick, dutiful fingers, I unlocked a door to a cage, a room where the spirit of Battousai was housed. I could feel it rush out in a blinding torrent of hate and rage. My body was gripped in the violent quake of the spiritual onslaught. I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, and looked up I no longer saw my daughter. I didn't know this girl, this strange girl who looked like me, who stood over me, grinning and holding a sword that was drenched with blood. Taking a deep breath I inhaled the lovely scents of blood and death. Smiling, matching her for cunning, I said;
"You don't know who you're dealing with little girl. The man that is before you now, he will be your greatest opponent. Be ready for a battle like none you've ever experienced. For Battousai is back."
I launched myself at my enemy.
* * * * *
Something red flew from the bushes, and struck at me. Silver lightning flashed as our blades met and for a brief moment became one. Violet eyes, and red hair like my own contrasted sharply with the inky blackness of the surrounding night. The man before me ground his teeth, and spun away from me, safely out of reach of my one long silver fang. Who was this man? He seemed so similar to me, and yet he wasn't. So familiar, and yet so unlike someone who I had seen before. I knew this man, I did. Quite well too. But the part of me that kept insisting that I knew the person before me was small and insignificant. The half of my mind that clamored for defeat of the opponent in front of me was much more important.
I lashed out with my blade, sending tendrils of red dancing through the air,. Like ribbons, they fell softly to the ground. It was my turn. Focusing my energy, I ran full force, my blade seeking out the spot between his third and fourth rib that would take me directly to the heart. He sidestepped, but at the last second, slipped in a pool of blood. Pathetic. An old man. I was fighting a pathetic old man. Surprising, but not all that much.
"C'mon, is that all you got? Seriously, I though you'd be tougher."
He knelt before me, eyes closed, concentrating on some far off point within himself, which I could not see. Suddenly his eyes flared open, and it appeared as if he was voluntarily giving himself over to a forbidden darkness. Violet eyes sealed themselves once more within the confines of his skull, as his breathing began to calm once more.
Thunder came again, like the annoyed growl of an animal, signaling us to hurry up and get back to the fighting. When he finally opened his eyes, they were no longer violet; they glowed golden with a vivacity that I had never seen before. Gleamed with a hunger for battle that surpassed mine.
"You don't know who you're dealing with little girl. The man that is before you now, he will be your greatest opponent. Be ready for a battle like none you've ever experienced. For Battousai is back."
He came at me with the wild fury likened only to that of a strong hurricane. I had only a fraction of a minute to bring up my blade. He backed off, only to launch himself at me again. Such fury! Such vitality! Such spirit! We met again, and again, two wolves locked in a battle for dominance, neither beast quite getting the upper hand. Grinding my teeth, I lashed out blindly and without caution, for what need had I for that? Beautiful red flowers sailed through the continuously cooling air, and the way his face contorted with rage and pain, I knew then that I'd hurt him.
The gash was narrow, but deep. Although not deep enough. I had meant to rip him in two, and when I lashed out, that had been my intention, no questions asked. So what had stalled my blade? He smiled at me, drawing himself up. Dimly, as if from somewhere far away, beyond little rolling hills, I saw lightning flash, and felt the first tentative kisses of rain.
"Heh. Good shot, but I'm much better."
He was there, then he wasn't. I could only sense his aura looming closer at an incredible rate, and again I barely had time to react to his reflexes. Thanks to my fast feet, I was saved from a blow to the neck that would have crushed my throat, however, I received a cracked rib in place of it. I sucked in a breath and steeled myself against the pain. And oh how excruciating it was! Thousands of little teeth, burning and sharp ripped at my chest, sending spider legs of pain skittering up and down my body. I could already feel myself growing numb with the sheer force of the blow. The pain blinded me, and for moments at a time, all I saw was white, and every now and then black. But never my opponent.
He stayed a step ahead of my, using my sudden lameness to his advantage. The only indication I had of him was both his scent and his aura. Both of which were soon evaporating into invisibility in the quickening pace of the rain.
Pain struck me from my right, and I went down. Rain pounded on my body as the wet ground clung to my clothes. My opponent stood over me, his sword had been turned around, so now I felt the sharp edge pressing into my throat. My vision was clear now, so clear in fact, that I now knew the person standing over me.
"Dad…"
* * * * *
I caught her swiftly on the right side. She went down without a word, or scream. Laying there, she let the rain soak her skin and clothing. Its wet hands clinging to her red hair, and pale skin. In a flash I was on her. The rain was battering both of us now, clear wet sheets that would hide nothing of this divine slaughter. Distantly, I could feel part of my mind scream at me. What was I doing?! She was my….
I fought it back down. I didn't know this girl, she was just another opponent in a long line of those yet to come. Eyes, brilliant eyes glittered with a clarity only seen in mountain streams. She opened her mouth to speak, and that one word she spoke brought me back.
"Dad…"
Everything flooded my mind at once. Memories, sounds, emotions and words. I squeezed my eyes shut tight and dropped my sword. Oh gods what had I done?! Tears clouded my vision as I knelt by Tori, and gently lifted her up, cradling her close.
"Tori…I'm sorry! I'm so, so sorry!"
The wound made by her blade was aggravated by my actions but I ignored it. Just one more scar to add on the living trophy rack that was my body. I hated myself! How could I have done such a cruel, heartless thing? I had given myself to the manslayer in me, and it had nearly cost me my daughter's life! White, angry flames consumed my flesh, and began to strip my soul, for the unforgivable crime that I had committed.
Then, soft tender arms wrapped around me, lightly stroking my back.
"It's alright. I understand…and I'm the one who should be sorry. I too was trying to kill you."
I held her tighter, thanking every god out there that she was still alive. She pulled away from me, and in the darkness, we looked back at each other. Father, and daughter, assassin and assassin. Tori now understood me on a level that was far above what should have been the norm. Of course, when one considers everything that had happened to both me and Kaoru in the past, it wasn't surprising that nothing followed the pattern of normal for us.
Twin streams of liquid starlight flowed down Tori's face as she closed her eyes, and buried her face in my chest. Her hands her painted in blood. The rain was washing away what was on the surface, but what lurked below, could never be gotten rid of.
"Father…I…am I…am I truly a heartless murderer?"
The word 'No' was on the tip of my tongue, but I didn't dare voice it out loud. Instead, my fingers moved to stroke her hair. It felt soft, like velvet, each strand curled delicately around my fingers to form a web of bright ruby.
"Tori, an assassin you may have become, but you are far from heartless."
Her fingers dug into my chest, small purple half-moons were being carved into my willing flesh.
"How?! How do you know?! I've killed countless individuals, and never felt a thing! Not ever! I'm tainted by the blood that stains my hands! Weighted down with heavy chains for each and every one of my sins!"
She shoved herself out of my grip, and clung tightly to her own shoulders. The rain poured relentlessly, and in her black attire, she looked like a hopeless woman awaiting Death's cold kiss. I sighed, and put my hand to the cross shaped scar given tome so many years ago. Tomoe, and her fiancée, the marks of they had placed upon my face. So separate in years, yet so close. The last part of the scar, the shorter line, had sliced apart, not only my skin, but my life as an assassin.
And now, I looked at my daughter, kneeling, and staring down at her hands with blank eyes. Now she stood up, and reached for her sword. Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and for a moment, there in front of me stood the queen of blood, the eternal princess of the damned. Tori had the sword held out in front of her, the end…pointed straight at her heart. She smiled at me, there were tears in her eyes. Crystalline pools of guilt, that sparkled as if there were tiny diamonds in each eye.
"Don't you see? This is the only way I can atone. You…you had Mom. Your love for her cleaned your blood soaked slate. As for me,"
She surveyed the rain soaked killing ground. Bodies lay all around us, now just unidentifiable lumps in the darkness.
", there is nothing. Not in this world anyway. I'm sorry. Tell Mom that I love her, and tell Kenji, that I'm sorry, but I cannot keep my promise."
She closed her eyes, and thrust the blade. I leapt for her.
* * * * *
There was no way out. No way at all. I stared down at my hands. My blood stained, soul stained, tainted hands. The world around me diminished. Voices assaulted me like the harshest of winds. They tore at my mind, and ripped at my sanity. Screaming over and over again that I was a murderer, and there was no path for me. Every bridge I came to I burned. The only way for me was to burn my final, remaining bridge: my life.
While Dad looked on, I spoke my last final words. I could feel tears well up in my eyes. The last ones I would ever shed. It seemed a shame to leave this world with so much sadness, but it was irrelevant.
"Don't you see? This is the only way I can atone. You…you had Mom. Your love for her cleaned your blood soaked slate. As for me,"
I looked around. Corpses covered the ground. The area around me was a cesspool of death, a breeding ground for flies, and disease.
", there is nothing. Not in this world anyway. I'm sorry, tell Mom I love her. Tell Kenji that I'm sorry, but I cannot keep his promise."
Kurodami had been right. The organization had become my life. And a life lived for killing is no life at all. I closed my eyes, and steadied my hands. The sword clinked as I tightened my hold, and thrust.
Blinding pain.
Blood.
Screaming.
A fog rolls in, gray at first.
I open my eyes, and the fog is everywhere.
I close them, and it deepens to black.
The blackness swallows me up.
Devouring me until nothing is left…
That's what I'd been expecting. Instead, the opposite happened.
First, came the immediate feeling of a hand claming firmly around my right wrist and twisting it. Next came pain, not the blinding, pure slash, but a mottled, blunt stump that slowly oozed into my upper arm. Then finally, my own voice crying "Ow!", and my blade hitting the ground, sounding old, and worn. The hand released my wrist, and pulled me into a tight hug. My father's scent overwhelmed me. Ginger and fire scorched Earth. His free hand moved to stroke my hair.
"Tori. Don't you ever think, that even for a minute that death is a way of salvation. You leave behind the ones who love you to sit there in a world of suffering. We need you, to see you, to feel you. Your mother needs you to be alive. Kenji needs you to be alive. I need you to be alive. Isn't that enough? Isn't the love of your family enough to keep going?"
Was it? Was love enough for your mind to feed off and keep going, keep thinking, keep….something? I wasn't sure, but just the fact that these three people needed me was enough to bring me back from the brink of near suicide. And Kenji…he was more than enough to make me carry on through the black endless void of my life. I leaned into my father, tears of desperation coursing their solemn, solitary way down my face as I cried. The rain around us began to slacken until it was nothing. The dark clouds began to be outlined in silver, and soon they parted, and I was able to see the night sky.
Off in the distant horizon, black was giving way to blue. It was time we took our leave back to Tokyo. Slowly I looked up at my father. How time aged people, yet how brilliantly young stayed the mind. He smiled, and let me go.
"Let's be off."
I nodded. We were almost out of the battleground when I remembered something: my blade. I went back to it. It still laid there on the ground, looking old and lonely. Contemplating its fate, I knelt down beside it. Leaves danced around me on a cold breeze. My former life lay in front of me in a cold, dead piece of metal.
"Leave that thing."
"No. I can't just throw it away. It's still a part of me. In a way, I need it."
Dad sighed. He came up behind me and placed a a hand on my shoulder.
"Yes. Is it possible…that the blade can be reversed?"
Another sigh. The hand left my shoulder as Dad stood up.
"If that is really what you wish, for I feel it best to leave the symbol of your former life behind you, but we will see what we can do. After all, as you said that blade is a part of you, and it would be wrong of me to disagree, when I carry a sword weighted down with my thoughts and emotions."
Once more I put my hand around the hilt of my blade. There was still an energy, but it was no longer the keening wail, so desperate for blood and flesh, but a high hum. Yes there was salvation just beyond that peak. It came to me that this was the last time I would hold this blade as it had been forged, but that was of little meaning.
Dad had turned back to me. He smiled as I sheathed my blade and stretched out his hand.
"Come on. Let's go home."
Home. What a wonderful word.
"Yes home."
I took the warm, caring hand offered to me, and began my journey of a thousand steps back home.
OMG! Sorry for the long wait! Work, school, and being sick really kick you in the butt! But, It's out now, stay tuned for the epilogue. Coming soon, I promise. Cookies, not razorblades.