Warriors Nevery Cry
Chapter 6
Story by: Cessy Angel
"Aoshi, you're free to help me find Kanryu, it would save me a lot of time. "
"Aoshi, please, you know Kanryu better than anyone! What if he did take Misao from us?"
"Aoshi..."
Aoshi's eyes opened, he couldn't sleep. It had been like that for two nights now. The re-enactment of what had happened that morning. The morning he had found out that the man who began all of his grief was yet again killing his soul, if he had one.
He closed his eyes again, trying to get a little more sleep, but the images of his companions dead by a gatling gun just wouldn't leave his mind. The blood over the floor, his blood, Shikijou's blood, Hannya's blood, Beshimi's blood and Hyotokotto's blood. Those motionless bodies he once called them his companions, but now...
"Mou!" He sat up in the dark room and walked over to his closet, opening it. In the back, against the wall, lay the kodachi that he had used to cut off his companion's heads. The images quickly came back to him of that awful night.
He got up, his knees soaked in blood. When will the suffering stop? His legs hurt, he could feel a faint sensation of metal stuck in his flesh, the damned bullets that had killed his reason for caring. Yet even bullets didn't hurt him as much as knowing he would no longer have the ability to fight alongside anyone. Looking around the room, he could see them, or what was left of them.
His kodachi was laying next to him, his eyes burning as he looked at the metal, the blood-stained metal. His fists clenched and he knew what he would do. Picking up his kodachi, he walked over to Hannya, his best fighter. Both he and Hannya had shared a close bond, probably because he reminded him so much of his lost brother, but that all changed as the blade cut through the dead-man's neck, his blood flowing over Aoshi's hands, a stain that would never go away.
The figure didn't move. Atleast she was grateful for that, yet the fact that he only stood there, without moving, for hours. Or maybe Misao's mind was playing with her, making the short periods of time seem like days, weeks. How long had she been like this? And why didn't anyone try to find her?
"Why isn't anyone saving me from this hellhole?" She whispered, her voice cracked. She felt her eyes moisten, and closed it as she heard footsteps coming her way. No, please, anything but him. Not again...
Misao bit her lip as she felt a hand run up her ripped kimono, a large hand reaching into her body, his fingers playing inside her. She felt wet, yet it didn't bother as much as the pain she felt, both mentally as well as physically.
"Is something troubling you, miss Makimachi?" The voice asked, both mockingly and playfully. He reached deeper into her body, enjoying the wetness that ran down his hands.
"Yeah, the fact that you've got your dirty fingers in my body, you asshole." She kept her eyes closed, waiting for him to hit her again. Atleast she had shared with him what she felt. Her mind kept wondering over and over again how such a person could live that way.
"What would you know? You don't know true suffering." He paused, then taking his hand out of her body, while it eased. Yet is this the kind of life I'm bound to live like? Anger burned inside of him again, his grief and hatred connected into the slap that hit the young girl. "Bitch."
He walked back to his corner and wiped off the liquid on his hands quickly as he heard footsteps coming his way. Looking back at Misao, her head bobbing up and down against the bricked wall, a small smile came over his face, She isn't so bad.
"Kimweri!" Kanryu's voice echoed throughout the basement. He wasn't in a good mood.
"I've waited long enough! Why do we need to wait for Shinomori to come to us?" Kanryu's fists banged against the wall. Only then did he notice that the girl he kept captive, Misao, was badly hurt. It wasn't the first time he had seen her this way. Her body was covered in dried blood, and the bottom of her kimono was ripped, a little lower from her privates, where liquid streamed down her legs.
"He'll come soon enough." Kimweri leaned against the wall, un-caring if Kanryu saw his work or not. He wasn't working only for Kanryu's cause, after all...
Kanryu gave another look at the chained girl. He groaned, looking back at Kimweri as he walked back up the stairs. "Don't go too far..."
"Hai,"
"It's amusing at how much he doesn't know..."
"Atleast, he wont live long enough to..."
Author's note: Blargh, I didn't like the way I wrote this chapter, not enough description, oh well. Okay, I need to tell your guys right now that Kimweri isn't who he seems to be, and he's acting that way for reason, so don't go flaming me because of what he did to Misao. (please?) Oh yeah, and this story is mostly based on events that occurred in the manga, since Aoshi did indeed cut of the Oniwabanshuu's heads off, and in the anime he just took off with the whole sha-bang. Anyways, I better stop now!
By the way: Did you
know that Kanryu's character was inspired by Takeda Kanryuusai, in which
he was known for being homosexual? Yep, it's true, but Watsuki-sensei didn't
use the idea since it didn't go well with the story. But I'm using that
character in my story, better believe it. Anyways, this has no point at
all in the fanfic, but oh well. Please review!