Resurrections and Rainbows

Resurrections and Rainbows

Chapter 3

"Himura Kenshin," Cronos spoke, his voice silencing all thoughts of questions or mumbles of uncertainty, "Hitokiri Battousai, cross-scarred Rurouni. You have many names, Shinta, but there's always one name that will hold itself closest to your heart."

"Shinta?" Sanosuke, Yahiko and Aoshi all exasperated at once. Kenshin stood still, facing the other red-haired warrior that loomed tall over all other parties present.

One by one, all heads were fixated upon Kenshin, and before long he felt almost compelled to speak. "And how might you have come across that name?"

"That, is another tale, another story to tell around a night-time fire, nothing more," Cronos almost chuckled, a grin slowly spreading across his round, flushed face. Kenshin's visage was unmoving, his eyes gave nothing to anyone; they were merely there, staring lifelessly into this new arrival's face.

A gentle wind passed between the two, as if attempting to cut the not so visible tension locked in-between them. It proved fruitless though, and Kenshin's stare remained, holding firm against an invisible enemy.

Kaoru began wrestling on the ground, but no one moved to her, no one even looked in her direction, until Cronos spoke again. "Some call you unbeatable, a weapon so cunning and powerful that not even one of the most exacting killer's in Japan's history, Makato Shi-Shi-O, could defeat you. Unbeatable."

Instead of replying to Cronos' praises, Kenshin merely directed his speech to Yahiko. "Aid Kaoru off the ground, then help her get inside, she'll probably need to rest."

Yahiko, a bit stunned at being spoken to during such a tension-ridden moment, stammered in his reply. "Y--ye--yeah." He walked, his eyes still on Cronos, towards Kaoru, almost tripping over his own feet in the process. By the time he finally reached her, she was already on her knees, shaking her head, and trying to remember where she was.

Slowly the memory of a sky full of flames had invaded its way into her mind, and she was forced to quell down the sudden rise of fear within her heart. "Kaoru-san," Yahiko's soft, chided voice spoke in her ear, "Kaoru, give me your hand, I'll help you up."

"Yahiko?" She murmured, a strange lump cornered in the back of her throat preventing her voice from reaching its usual volume.

"Kaoru," Yahiko replied, his voice also quiet but somewhat reassuring, "let me help you up." He extended his hand, and Kaoru groggily clasped it, as the young man helped his teacher to her feet. "Let me get you inside, quickly."

Kaoru's feet were numb and asleep underneath her, and she had no intention of going anywhere, but the wooziness in her head, and the fleeting lights in her eyes told her to listen to her student's commands. Slowly she made her way towards the dojo, through the staggering haziness of her mind, a single question permeating itself to be asked. "Kenshin," she began, her head suddenly turning towards the swirly-eyed samurai, her tracks stopped for a single moment, "are you alright?"

Kenshin's back remained to Kaoru, and his eyes never once left Cronos' but he responded quickly and surely. "Yes."

Kaoru smiled faintly, her entire body still tingling on the border of sensation, as she again turned away and headed into the dojo, leaving Cronos, Kenshin, Sanosuke, and a crumpled up Aoshi in the courtyard.

Nothing but the gentle brush of a faint morning wind stirred through the four bodies, not a pair of eyes moving from the targets they had chosen. Cronos continued to grin, Kenshin's face remained rigid and frozen, and Sanosuke became increasingly agitated, as he waited for something to be said by either of the two red-haired warriors. Before long the anxiety overwhelmed him, and, raising his fist, he shouted aloud. "Would someone say something? Please!" He didn't notice it, but he was grinding his teeth, and down his forehead a pair of sweats beads ran, glinting under the sun.

Even through this sudden outburst though, there was only silence between Kenshin and Cronos, though finally Aoshi rose from the ground, and spoke once again, his voice much clearer than before. "You were there, too, weren't you?" It took everyone a while to realize that he was speaking to Cronos, whose smile had suddenly faded, and whose eyes were now grave and serious.

"Where?" He asked.

"In my dream… that dream."

Cronos said nothing in reply, but his hand clenched into a fist, and his voice suddenly fell, dropping to almost inhuman levels. "Then you saw it too, didn't you? You saw the flames."

Aoshi's eyes instantly widened, and Kenshin's body tightened up even quicker, while Sanosuke was left in a relative black-hole, trying to determine what Cronos' words had meant. "What goddamn flames?" He asked, the tone of his voice calmer, but still very confused.

Cronos turned back towards Kenshin, and said in a quiet and serene voice, "You're wondering what it means, aren't you?" The question was obviously rhetorical, but Kenshin nodded slowly nonetheless, his hand shaking at his side. "That's why I'm here Kenshin, to tell you, the unbeatable one, what that dream meant."

Though it had not been plainly stated, Cronos had put a proposal out to Kenshin, and it was up to the old Rurouni as to whether or not to take it. Though he sensed no misgivings on Cronos' part, he still had lingering doubts about the way the young man had appeared, and just how he knew about the dream that had not only haunted Aoshi the night before, but also Kenshin.

At length, Kenshin replied, though only with another question. "Why do you call me that, unbeatable I mean."

Cronos eyes thinned, and his brow became rigid in thought as he answered. "Because where I come from, there is a different meaning to the word, something deeper than what a common man sees in it."

There was little doubt in Kenshin's mind that the young man before him spoke the truth, though there was a whole lot more doubt in him that the boy's intentions were honorable. Another query quickly entered Kenshin's stream of thought, and he just as quickly asked it. "What else are you here for?"

Cronos' grin returned in a flash, and with no hesitation he answered, "To keep the dream within the confines of our minds."

"Our?" Sanosuke whispered to himself, realizing that not only had Aoshi dreamt this troubling visioin, but so had Kenshin, and apparently, this other man had as well.

"Aoshi-san, what do you say?" Kenshin asked of the black-haired fighter.

Aoshi had remained fixated on Cronos the entire time, his eyes and mouth wide as if afraid to move. But when he spoke, he did so in a clear and confident voice, answering to Kenshin, "Let's listen to what he has to say, at least. If he can help clarify what I saw last night, it will help a great deal."

Kenshin merely nodded, and slowly his body unclasped the grip it had laid upon itself, as his hands finally fell weakly to his sides again. Aoshi remained staring at Cronos, who walked forward with a step slow and sure. A gentle, warm breeze sifted through the courtyard, as Sanosuke helped Aoshi turn around and head into the dojo. Cronos followed behind the two, under the watchful eye of Kenshin, who waited for the other three to pass before following their path into the building.

Just as they were nearing the dojo's steps, Yahiko came rushing out of the structure and shouted, "Alright, what's going on here?"

Sano, startled by the younger boy's sudden appearance, shouted back angrily, "Too much stuff for you to understand! Baka."

"WHAT?" Yahiko screamed, as the two instantly began to restart the fight that had been interjected just a while before. "What did you call me!?" Yahiko rushed up to Sano's face, while Aoshi merely grumbled something underneath his breath. Sano merely laughed, and then began his way up the stairs again. Yahiko wouldn't let the insult go though, and cried yet again, "Well, WHAT WAS IT!?!"

Sanosuke's face suddenly became serious, and he raised his free hand, as a fist, to Yahiko's jaw before opening his mouth to reply. "What do you thin---"

Before he could finish though, Kenshin's voice shot out, suddenly booming with authority and more than a timid tone of annoyance, "Yahiko-san! Sano-san! Please, we don't have time for this!" He brushed his way past Cronos, and then almost shoved Sano out of the way, taking his place in aiding Aoshi up the stairs. "Wait out here until we're done talking." His voice left nothing to argue, though both Sano and Yahiko were too frightened to even consider doing so.

Strange, Sano thought, I wonder why Kenshin's acting so uptight today. Maybe this fight was really important or something. Ah well, makes no difference to me. "Come here Yahiko," he almost whispered slyly, his hands quickly reaching out to pummel the Kammiya Kasshin Ryu student. Yahiko darted away, and the two began to fight once again, oblivious to the graveness of the matters that were to be discussed within the dojo.

As the two young men fought outside, and the three older ones made their way inside, Kaoru laid on her back in her room, her head still swimming within itself, her stomach still queasy, and her hands still trembling. Though she stared up towards the ceiling she had seen countless times before, there seemed to her a sudden change in the room itself, as though a million new multi-colored lamps had been placed all around, and the entire room had been brightened with countless different colors and shades. She determined that her stomach and mind were playing tricks on her, though she couldn't shake the feeling that she had almost been devoured by some sort of color-changing monster, and was now residing painlessly in its stomach. Even after putting down that foolish idea, she had the lingering thought that she was in something, part of something that was comprised of nothing but beautiful mixes of blues, greens, yellows and reds. Slowly she closed her eyes and fell into a very shallow sleep, the image of a confident Kenshin, smiling gorgeously floating around the superficial recesses of her mind, the hope that breakfast would be ready for her when she awoke also milling about.

Meanwhile, Kenshin, Cronos, and Aoshi all headed into Kenshin's bedroom, where they quickly sat down in a triangle on the floor, closed the doors, and laid their swords at their sides; except Aoshi, who carried no weapon at that time. Despite the brightness of the morning sun, the room was shrouded in the darkness that consumed the three men's minds. Their movements were grave and serious, and though none of them dared speak a word till the others were ready, angst was layered thick in the warm, almost damp air.

Outside, a flock of birds pushed with all their might against the invisible enemy that halted their path. Try as they might though, the wind held them in check, unbeatable by even the strongest of their kindred.

* * *

A thin mountain air hung all around Cronos and Zeus. Fitting, since they were residing now in the mountains that Zeus called home, sitting in a small wooden shack that had obviously been passed down through the centuries, as Zeus took off what little of Cronos clothing remained, and wrapped him in sterile bandages.

Cronos flinched repeatedly as Zeus applied some kind of sticky ointment to his burns, many of which had peeled off the first layer of skin, fewer of which had gone straight through the second. Though the ointment stung as it was applied, the thin, white dressing Zeus applied afterwards seemed to calm the pain, and stimulate the remaining nerves within Cronos' body.

It took a little over half an hour, and the sun was now behind the mountains that bordered around Zeus' home, but when the makeshift doctor had finished treating his patient, Cronos felt much better than he had before, and a bit more rested, as though the medication had rejuvenated his very bones.

"How's that?" Zeus asked lightly, his eyes looking straight into Cronos', the smallest twinge of concern evident in his voice.

"Much better," Cronos replied, managing a small smile.

"Good," Zeus answered back standing to his full height and turning his face rigid, "then come with me outside, I want to talk to you there."

The older, white-haired man twisted on his heel and headed out of the small room, leaving the door open behind him. Cronos slowly rose himself up from the stool he had been resting on, followed Zeus out of the door, and headed out into the setting sky.

The two were perched on top of a small plateau, which was encircled by a ringlet of fairly small mountains, the larger brothers of which were off to the west. The small path out of the east through which they had traveled was the only easily accessible route to the plateau, which was high enough to create a dangerous climb for any. Cronos had nearly fallen several times on his journey up the shallow side of the cliff, but Zeus had always been there to help him to his feet. Besides the cabin which was obviously to be Cronos' new home (very unlike the mansion he had previously been residing in), there was also a small barn, in which a single, scrawny, brown horse was nested, as well as several chickens, and even a very large cow. Cronos had no idea how Zeus had managed to get them up this high, or even why he kept them, but he decided that all those questions would soon be answered.

Zeus was standing beside a large round stone that went as high as his waist, to which he pointed and instructed Cronos to "sit down" on. Cronos quickly obeyed and looked up at the Samurai, finding the old man's gaze being engrossed upon the sun, whose rays barely extended upon the confines of one of the surrounding mountains. The stars were coming into view above, and through small and subtle gusts of wind, they twinkled down on the two men below, spreading their living light over the plateau.

"Do you feel that Cronos? Do you feel what the air holds for us tonight?" Zeus was speaking as though Cronos was not there, and was merely speaking to a spirit from long ago. "Do you feel it?"

There was silence for a second, and Cronos realized Zeus wanted a reply, so he followed his masters gaze into the sky, and thought for a moment before replying, "I feel the wind on my face, and I feel the ground beneath my feet."

"Yes, that's what I felt at one time too, long ago. Soon though, Cronos-san, you will begin to feel many things beside the air and the earth. You will feel the soul of the wind, the lives it touches, and everything inside it. This is Tengoku o Mamoru Hito. (Defender of the Heavens)"

"Ten…tengoku o Mamoru… Hito?" Cronos asked, looking up to Zeus once again.

"Yes, Tengoku o Mamoru Hito. That is the form of Budo that I use, the style of attack that has been passed down over several centuries. It is designed to use that soul of the wind, and the soul of the blade, to defeat one's opponent."

"Use, the wind?" Cronos asked again, curiosity straining his weak voice.

"The wind is the center of the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito, it is the source of almost all its power, and creates warriors more powerful than any regular human could ever be."

"But, how can someone use the wind?"

Zeus turned to face Cronos at that question, and smiled, "That, is the key to the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito."

Cronos face was twisted in confusion, but he could not say that Zeus seemed to be lying in the slightest, in fact, he picked up only a voice of truth from the older man. Rather than confuse the boy more, Zeus turned towards the sky again, and continued on.

"The centerpiece of the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito is the Shi ni Ken, Shi ni Kaze, Shi ni Dochira technique (Death by Sword, Death by Wind, Death by Both). It is the succession technique, and ultimate mastery of the Budo form."

"What is this succession technique then?" Cronos asked hesitatingly, scared he was not supposed to ask that question.

"That," Zeus responded, "is something you'll have to find out for yourself." Cronos returned another, even more confused look, but Zeus cut him off before he could ask a question.

"You see," he began, his voice suddenly falling much deeper and more serious, "the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito is designed to adapt to the various different opponents that it faces, changing and conforming to beat the best of the best, and to thrive where other techniques fail."

Cronos nodded slowly, making sure he understood Zeus' words.

"Hence, the Shi ni Ken, Shi ni Kaze, Shi ni Dochira technique has only one rule. That is that the technique, whatever the next lineage of the Tengoku o Mamoru Hito line may chooses it to be, must use both the sword and the wind in the attack, and must use them at the same time."

"Both wind, and sword?" Cronos asked, astounded.

Zeus whipped his head towards Cronos, and his eyes were suddenly alive like the stars above, shining white orbs of power and mystery. Out of them shot a blinding white light like that that Cronos' master had once seen. Cronos was shocked back in his seat, agape at the sudden ashen color that spread forth from Zeus' eyes. Yet, he was not afraid, though he somehow thought he should be. Instead he was merely intrigued, his mind captivated by whatever was inside the white-haired, and white-eyed man that stood before him. "Yes," Zeus said slowly, "both wind and sword. Together, it is said, one day they will create an attack that is unbeatable, even by a God."

"Un…beatable." Cronos said, his mouth open and his mind awestruck.

"Yes," Zeus agreed, nodding, his eyes still shining white like the stars, "unbeatable."

Cronos found himself suddenly pressed to turn away from those eyes, as though they were cutting through his soul and searching the deepest recesses of his body. He did so painfully, choosing to stare at the rock he was sitting on, his heart racing as he tried to determine what had just gone on. Instead though, Zeus continued on, and as he spoke, Cronos looked up at him again, finding that the white light had again been replaced by Zeus' regular, probing black eyes. "My Shi ni Ken, Shi ni Kaze, Shi ni Dochira technique uses the wind as a mere diversion to the real attack, which is commonly known as a Gatotsu, which is also combined with another sword attack that you will learn yourself eventually."

"The Gatotsu?" Cronos asked, his voice suddenly lively and wondering. Zeus opened his mouth to speak, but Cronos cut him off. "Kina-sama, my former master, the one that you killed, always spoke of a man that used the Gatotsu very powerfully, a man who works as Shinsengumi. Sait…Saito…"

"Saitou Hajime," Zeus said, completing Cronos' thought. "Yes, his Gatotsu technique is one of the best, but nothing compared to my own, since he lacks the speed to use it effectively."

"Kina-sama said he was one of the most powerful warriors during the war in Kyoto, and that only a couple men could ever have matched his Gatotsu." Cronos added objectively.

Zeus smiled at what appeared to be the boy's innocence. "Yes, by normal men's standards, he is quite a formidable fighter, but within a couple of years Cronos, you will be able to defeat such a man."

Cronos found himself quite speechless at the blatancy of Zeus' statement, and at the message it contrived. "You… you mean…"

"Yes," Zeus answered, smiling slightly and nodding, "you are to be my student. You are to be the next Tengoku o Mamoru Hito, and one day, you will have your own Shi ni Ken, Shi ni Kaze, Shi ni Dochira."

The small, red-headed, bandaged boy wasn't sure how to respond to what had just been said, but he smiled widely, and nodded.

"Here," Zeus said powerfully, whipping his hand to his side and grasping a sword that lay on his belt, "you'll need this." He pulled the sword, sheathe and all, and then handed it to Cronos. The boy used both hands to hold the heavy weapon, and he stared at it in awe. "I found this in the possession of your former master, and since it has English lettering on the sheathe and handle, I decided it must belong to you."

Cronos looked over the sword and saw the letters that his new master spoke of, but he could not make sense of them. Yet still he knew that somehow the sword did belong to him, and that his old owner had stolen it from him long ago.

"That sword is of incredible craftsmanship, it is almost the lightest sword I've ever felt. And you'll need it, because tomorrow you start your training."

Cronos nodded, but somehow he didn't feel right. He had a longing inside himself to keep that sword clean, and to not ruin it with simple training use. Though he felt he had already asked much of Zeus that day, he questioned softly, "If it's all the same to you, Zeus-sensei, I'd like to use a different sword for training. This one seems too fair to ruin before it's needed."

Zeus looked, for a short while, into Cronos' eyes, and then agreed. "Yes, that won't bother me, it is a wondrous sword."

Cronos smiled again, and answered, "Thank you very much, Zeus-sensei."

Zeus bobbed his head up and down again, and then said, patting Cronos' back gently, "let's go back inside now, we'll eat and then sleep in preparation for tomorrow."

The two headed back into the small hovel as the last rays of sunlight disappeared, and the wind was flying around in circles all about the plateau and the surrounding mountains, as though on guard for the night.

As Cronos ate a strange tasting, yet filling meat for his meal, and fell off to sleep on Zeus' bed (the old Samurai choosing to sleep on the floor for that night), the words that Zeus had spoken as his eyes had shone white circled through his mind, and troubled him in his light sleep. "Unbeatable…" he murmured several times in his sleep, his mind overloaded with the scores of information that had been presented to him that night, yet that one single word permeating over and over with sudden importance.

Unbeatable.

* * *

None of the three samurai in discussion had actually spoken a word, by the time Kaoru had nodded off to sleep again, but their eyes had spoken volumes, and none of the words had been overly pleasant. It seemed to Kenshin, and Aoshi, that this new sworded warrior had little respect for the abilities of either of them, as though he were a foolish young child who had no respect for his superiors, especially Kenshin.

This didn't particularly bother the man with the cross-scar, as he had often had trouble gaining respect from other samurai right off the start, mainly because of his size, but what did bother him was that he had known his given name, Shinta, and therefore knew much about Kenshin, yet still had this laid back attitude in regard to Kenshin's skills. This bothered him a great deal.

When, at length, Cronos began the discussion, Kenshin had decided to be very careful about any advice this red-haired man would give, and to be even more careful about screening through any possible traps. He hoped Aoshi would do the same.

"To begin," Cronos said sharply and loudly, which seemed to be the manner in which his voice always presented itself, "I suppose I'll introduce myself." Aoshi and Kenshin nodded, giving the go-ahead, so the younger man did. "Though I've been given many titles over the years, and I've been cursed even more names over those very same years, my given name is Cronos."

"Cronos?" Aoshi inquired silently, burrowing his brow in regard, "that is certainly not a Japanese name."

"And I am not Japanese, if you hadn't noticed." Cronos replied back, his voice cocky and confident.

"Then why do you wear Japanese clothes, and brandish two Japanese swords?" Kenshin asked probingly, not wanting to give Cronos an inch.

"I crash-landed on Japan as a child, and since I have been raised in the traditional Japanese culture. Though my skin may protest otherwise, I believe I was born with a Japanese soul."

"Hmph…" Aoshi snorted, his eyes narrowing in disgust.

"You may not believe me now, but if you end up agreeing with me on what I am doing here, you will very quickly find out just why I believe what I believe." Cronos grinned yet again, sending a shiver down Kenshin's spine.

"And that brings us to my question," Kenshin almost whispered softly, before turning directly to Cronos, looking into his eyes, and asking with complete confidence, "just what brings you here?"

"I was counting on you asking that." Another smile, another shiver. "But before I tell you that, I need to do one simple thing first." Cronos darted his gaze towards both Aoshi and Kenshin, finding no acceptance in either of their grim faces. "I need to make sure that we all had the same dream last night."

"What does that have to do with anything?" Kenshin questioned again, his tone still reserved and cautious. He had barely any recollection of the dream that had entered him in the night, but from what he could remember, he had no intention of trying to re-live it.

"I'd rather not recall what I saw and felt last night, if it's all the same to you," Aoshi said leisurely, yet obviously meaning that he was not going to budge on the subject. "That place was too deathly for words."

"Yes," Cronos said, his voice suddenly softer, and much more serious, "that it was." The air all around the three of them suddenly seemed to shift, as though with the abrupt alteration of his voice, Cronos had made Aoshi and Kenshin listen to what he had to say, with no choice on their own part. "Close your eyes with me, it will help us remember the dream in its entirety."

"And just hope that you don't slit our throats while we have our eyes closed?" Aoshi asked skeptically, at the same time voicing Kenshin's concerns.

"Heh…" Cronos began, his voice again carefree and childish, "eyes closed? Why would I need that? I could have just as easily killed you both while we were in front of the dojo." Kenshin's heart skipped a beat, as he understood with utter certainty that Cronos honestly believed he was speaking the truth. Not a hint of doubt was traced in his voice. For the first time since facing Seta Soujiro in Kyoto, the innocence in the speech set Kenshin off, as though such innocence could never lie. It didn't so much scare Kenshin as it did mystify him, like something long forgotten in his past had come rushing to the front again.

"Luckily for you guys though, I didn't come here to kill you two, in fact, I came here to do the exact opposite."

"What do you mean?" Aoshi posed, while Kenshin was left mute.

Cronos merely smiled in return, his face back to the laid back style it had previously held. "You aren't getting that out of me yet. I told you, with due time. First comes this dream."

"No."

Both Cronos and Aoshi turned towards Kenshin, whose voice had held such determination that was rarely seen in the old Rurouni anymore. That voice was much more befitting of the Hitokiri Battousai. "You'll tell us now, or else I'll be forced to ask you to leave." Kenshin turned to face Cronos, and his eyes were narrow, lined with resolve, with obviously no intention of arguing.

Cronos' eyes quickly changed to match Kenshin's, and neither of them spoke for several moments as they tried to pick up on some sort of weakness on one another's parts. Aoshi coughed slightly, and not long after, Cronos spoke. "Himura-sama, I ask for only five minutes of time, and then all will be explained to you. If you cannot give me that, then perhaps I have wasted precious time even coming to you."

Kenshin gazed even deeper into Cronos' eyes, burning through them with a stare glazed with anxiety and worry. More than the boy's laid back tone, or his even more noticeable slack movements, there was something about Cronos that had Kenshin at the edge of his wit, something he couldn't pinpoint, yet something he knew he had felt in the past.

Outside, the falling autumn leaves rustled under the low and breezing winds, while the fiery streaks of the suns rays shot down over the entire city.

"Alright, Cronos', you have five minutes. After that, I reserve the right to set you out of here."

"Sounds alright," the taller red-haired man replied, "I guess I'll have to make those five minutes count." He smiled again.

With that settled, the air again seemed to tighten and twist around the three, making both Aoshi and Kenshin suddenly very hot, and both of them fighting back impulses to grab for some sort of weapon, sword or no. "Now, like I said, let's try and visualize this dream together. You'll merely have to trust in me that I won't try and harm you, and trust in your own skills to make sure that doesn't come to pass."

Slowly and reluctantly, the three of them shut their eyes and thoughts to the outside world, pushing their minds into a state of semi-consciousness, where one could dream, but was still awake and able to hear whatever they wished to. They zeroed in on Cronos' voice, as he began to speak.

"Now, where do we start?" There was a pause, as all three tried to recall as much as they could from the night before. "Ah yes, how about with the Earth?"

Instantly, the mention of the ground in the vision triggered Aoshi's and Kenshin's memories, and in a matter of seconds, they recalled the barren land that had encompassed their vision. "It was red," Aoshi murmured, "it was red with blood."

Kenshin nodded absently, also quickly remembering the thin pools that had covered the ground in the nightmare, and also recalling with a shudder the smell that had come from those pools. "The sky," he whispered, reflexively, as he bore in mind the reflection those pools had made.

"The sun," Aoshi whispered back.

"Was black," Cronos finished, spurring the image of a lightless orb of nothingness hanging over the heads of the dreamers. "And the sky, it was orange, and black on the horizon's, like the sky had died, and the heaven's were bleeding."

"Bleeding," Kenshin mimicked Cronos' words, following through on them. "I… I was bleeding… in the dream, I was bleeding, from my stomach."

The other two obviously recalled a similar sensation, as they both winced as they remembered the pain the scar had given them, even though it was merely a dream. "Yes, it hurt to walk, but I was walking towards something." Cronos voice was soft and gentle, as his eyes shifted through the barest recollections of the dream.

"Towards the city," Aoshi continued on, a quickly transgressing train of thought being created by the three collective minds. "The city was in front of me."

There was silence in the atmosphere of the room, as all three eerily pictured the dark visage of towering rooftops and arched doorways. As Kenshin did so though, another of his senses was called to work. "There was sound coming from the city, some strange sort of cracking, snapping sound. Like a series of whips, or…"

"Fire." Cronos announced. "The city, it was on fire."

Just as quickly as the words were spoken, the image in Kenshin's mind came to life, and he witnessed flames lick out and beyond the rooftops, crawling through and afar the doorways, and inching ever closer to the pools of blood that populated the ground at his feet. The city was now black as well, but there was a dull luminescence of orange and red that lit the borders of the grey-lined sky.

"That's right," Aoshi said deeply, his voice edging with fear, "the entire place was charred with flames."

"Yes," Cronos continued, picking up from where Aoshi had left off, "but there was more, there was something behind me. Something at my back."

Another moment of silence, as one by one they struggled to remember just what it was that they held felt in the tortures of their imaginings. Just when it seemed as though they had hit a mental block, Cronos almost shouted, "The wind! The wind. That was what I felt."

"Yeah, that was it." Aoshi was now breathing heavily, the full realization of the dream once again returning to him.

Kenshin, too, recalled the sensation of the wind pushing on his back, almost urging him towards the smoldering city, as though he was meant to do something against it. It seemed strange, but somewhere in the deep alcoves of his memories, he almost felt as though he had felt something just like this before, only different somehow, as though everything was reversed. "And there was a scent too, an odor of some sort," he said, slowly.

"The blood," Cronos answered back, almost aggravated, as the smell of the blood had already been mentioned.

"No," Aoshi interrupted, "there was some other smell, something besides the blood. It was coming from the city."

Cronos had no reply, as he too quickly recalled another underlying aroma that had emanated from the city. "Like this morning," he worded tenderly, "the smell that the air had carried this morning."

"The smell of burning flesh," Kenshin finished, "that stench was all around the city, almost pouring out of it." As he spoke, he began to feel even more strongly that he had indeed experienced this same experience before, and not in any dream, but in his real life.

"And there was someone walking out of the city," Aoshi gasped, as though he was losing his breath in speaking at all. "Someone was walking away from the city, towards me."

"That's right," Cronos persisted, "his hair covered his eyes and he walked slowly, but he held a sword and it had the scent of blood, innocent blood, on it."

The memory flooded into Kenshin's mind as well, as he quickly realized who that man had been. "And he had a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek. His eyes were gold, Cronos, and they shone white, so you know."

Instantly, and simultaneously, all three men's eyes were opened, and they all turned quickly towards Kenshin. "Himura-san," Aoshi sighed, "that was you, leaving the city?"

"Yes, Aoshi. It was I. And that dream was no myth either. The city burning behind me was Kyoto, a little over eleven years ago, and I distinctly remember the smell of those burning bodies, though I can't recall the darkened sky or ocean of blood. I also remember the wind; it was blowing in my face, and I felt like it was pushing me back into Kyoto."

"Then who were you, in the dream? And how did we all have the exact same dream on the exact same night?"

Cronos stood up, at that, but when he spoke, he didn't answer Aoshi's questions, he merely gave him some more. "Good, now that I know you two are to be involved in the undertaking, I can take you to the Mountain of Woe, and there we can find out just what your role will be."

"What?!?" Kenshin and Aoshi shouted in unison, "I thought you were going to answer all our questions now!"

"And I am," Cronos replied calmly, bending down and putting both his swords in at his waist once again. "I will answer every question I can on the way there, but I can't waste time answering them now, we don't have much time to waste. Otherwise, Kenshin-sama, that dream we all had last night, will come true once again."

Aoshi and Kenshin were left speechless, but they both nodded quietly, realizing that Cronos had indeed no intention of injuring them in any way. And the three of them quickly suited up and headed outside, into the sweat-smelling air of the land called Japan; the scents that many called unbeatable tearing through their nostrils.

* * *

"Another day, another piece of my life, wasted."

Okeda was again speaking to himself, though he would've more than enjoyed another ear other than his own to listen to his troubled words. He wasn't hung-over, for possibly the first time in several weeks, basically because he had actually spent the night at his own house, as opposed to at Yolanda's. His kid's were already off to school, and his wife was most likely tending to their small garden in the back, letting her husband rest comfortably.

The slightly middle-aged man sat up, shaking his head and wiping pieces of sleep from his eyes. The shafts of sunlight that filtered through the window felt warm on his face, and he smiled slightly, speaking with an almost happy tone, "Looks like a beautiful morning. I wish I didn't have to go to work, especially since it's so far away from here." Despite his grumblings though, he got up from his bed, quickly got a drink of water, then headed into his back to say goodbye to his wife.

"Hi!" His wife almost shrieked as Okeda protruded himself from the house. She dropped her gardening tools on the ground, and wiped the dirt smudging her hands on her dress before walking towards Okeda. "It's so good to see you around in the morning."

Okeda smiled widely, the smile he knew she couldn't resist, then swiftly wrapped Seru in his arms, leaned in, and kissed her. She in turn draped her arms over Okeda's shoulders, and ran her hand through the back of his hair. When they parted, she looked into his eyes, and smiled back. "I'm really, really glad you're here this morning."

"Me too," he replied, before relinquishing his arms and looking off into the sky, "but I'm afraid I won't be able to make it tonight. My student said she'd be better by tomorrow, which means after work today, I'm gonna stop by her house, and she if she's up for another lesson."

"Aww… the kids are really missing you, and I'm really missing you too, Okeda."

"I know," he answered quietly, feeling somewhat guilty for leaving his wife and children for such long periods of time, "and I really miss you, but this extra money I'm getting could really help us get out of this slum-hole. This new Meiji Era let's hardworking people like us finally get a chance to move up in the world. With money, you can do anything nowadays."

"I know Okeda, and I appreciate all the hard work you're putting into teaching this young girl how to paint, but there's no replacement for a loving father and husband. Not even a billion yen could fill that void."

Okeda looked into Seru's eyes, and smiled yet again, before whispering into her ear, "I know, but it won't be much longer, and then I'll make you the princess you deserve to be."

Seru smiled back, and then kneeled back down to tend to her garden. "All right Okeda, get to work, so you can get me that throne one day."

"I will," he returned, before heading back inside to get his wallet. After snatching that up, he headed outside and onto the burgeoning streets of the city. He said hello to various people from around his neighborhood as he headed towards his work, a few kilometers away, and let his mind wander over the sudden and strange turn of events that had taken place in and around Yolanda's.

There was the odd looks her sons had been giving him as he left, which he had feared meant they had realized what he really did there; there was the strange man who had been beaten on by those children in front of Okeda's work; and then there was Yolanda's strange request to leave her alone after Okeda had finished his regular job the day before. Though he wasn't sure, he had a feeling that some grave news had been brought in about her husband, and he feared that she would push him away after such a life-altering piece of information. Today he was determined to figure out just what was wrong, and hold onto his job at all costs.

He lazed through his meager door-greeting job, as he did every day, content to merely visualize what he would say to Yolanda should worse come to worst. He could get as far as, "Don't worry, it'll be alright," but quickly became stuck after that. As the bright shining sun traversed across the skies, and the winds brushed themselves through the grasses, Okeda became increasingly anxious, as he realized that nothing he could say could relieve Yolanda of her misery should the death of her husband weigh heavily on her heart.

As opposed to looking forward to quitting-time, as he had in the morning, he quickly grew to dread it as it burgeoned closer and closer to him. He almost asked his boss if he could work overtime (almost unheard of for him), but thought better of it, and came to the decision that he would sooner or later have to face Yolanda: he decided on sooner.

He set off towards her place slowly, his feet dragging underneath him as the sun set, off to his right. He tried convincing himself that her husband would be fine, and that she had really just been sick the night before. Even as he told himself this though, the nagging fear in the back of his mind continued to burrow deeper, till he couldn't rid himself of it, and was again over-ridden in unease.

By the time he reached the gates to her house, he was sweating bullets, and wringing the edge of his clothes with his hands so tightly that his knuckles were white. Just then it dawned on him that he was less afraid of losing his second job, and much more afraid of losing the power he felt when he was with Yolanda; a power he found very comforting. He knocked on the gate heavily, with his hand.

After a couple of seconds, the doors slid open, and behind them was one of the older, more bent down servants of the house, whose head was bowed low and whose clothes were entirely white, the clothing of mourning. Okeda feared the worse. "Ah, Okeda-san. Yolanda-sama doesn't wish to see you right now."

The fear that had been eating away at him suddenly magnified, and he found it very difficult to speak quickly enough to prevent the old servant from closing the door. Somehow though, he managed to get out a few words. "No, wait, please." The servant did so, and slowly moved its head up, revealing the old, withered looks of a woman shortened and frightened by the effects of time. Her eyes were hollow and shone under the early evening light, and again Okeda struggled to speak. "Um… I just want to talk to her for a couple of seconds; I want to know if she's alright."

"Oh," the old woman replied, "I thought you would've known." She paused for a second, peering into Okeda's eyes before finishing, "there's been a death in the family. Yolanda-sama's husband, Batiou, was found dead yesterday morning."

Okeda's heart sank, as he pieced together that by Yolanda "not wishing to see him", she had effectively fired him. Not one to give in so easily, he shot back, "please, if I could just speak to her for a moment, I'm sure I could make her feel better."

The old mistress looked hard at Okeda, regarding him strangely, almost like he was an enemy, before replying, "That's an awful lot of concern to show, for an art teacher."

For a split second, Okeda's heart raced in fear, as he contemplated whether or not the servant's had uncovered his true purpose, and whether or not Yolanda's late husband had done the same. He tried not to let his fear show, but knew he was not doing a very good job of it, so he again said, lowering his head, "Please, just a second, that's all I ask."

Okeda couldn't tell from his downward glance, but the maid gave him one more long look before answering, "Alright, come with me."

Almost overjoyed, Okeda quickly set pace behind the old woman, who walked almost too slowly for Okeda's liking. Rather than worrying about what he was going to say, though, he was merely ecstatic that he had gotten past the front line of defense. It wasn't until he saw Yolanda, crying and shuddering on the floor, did he realize his lack of a plan could prove fatal.

The maid left him in front of Yolanda's room, where he stood for several seconds, considering what to do next. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't think of anything to say, and for some reason his legs were immobile underneath him. He couldn't remember how long he just stood there, but he felt more and more awkward with each passing moment. He opened his mouth, to announce his arrival, but thought better of it, and merely crept forward, hoping to reach Yolanda before she noticed his appearance.

It worked too, up to the point where he could almost touch her with his outstretched hand. He dared no such movement though, and merely stood above her, looking down at the woman with whom he had spent countless hours shudder uncontrollably at her loved ones loss. Several more moments passed, and many more tears were shed, before she finally noticed him. She glanced up almost painfully, not even taking one glance into his eyes before she turned back towards the ground, sobbing, "What do you want? More money?"

Though he was tempted to reply yes, he held himself back and crouched down next to her, whispering, "What's wrong Yolanda-chan?"

She gasped a couple of times before answering. "What's wrong? What the hell do you think is wrong?" Okeda said nothing in reply, he merely looked onward towards her white-clothed and shuddering body. "My husband is dead. That's what's wrong."

"Yolanda, come here." He tried moving closer to her, and putting his arm around her shoulder, but she shrugged him off, and merely cried more in reply. "Let me hold you," his voice sounded weak and desperate, even to himself.

"I'm done with that, Okeda. You'll never hold me again, as long as I live." Though she never even looked at him, her words felt like daggers in the steadily quickening heart of Okeda.

"Come on, Yolanda; let me help you through this. Please."

There was a pause in Yolanda's sniffles and sighs, and just milliseconds before it happened, Okeda could feel a huge outburst heading in his direction. "You? Help me?!?" Her head was arched towards Okeda, her eyes were still wrung with tears, and her voice still strained and cracked. It was, however, much louder than before. "Ha! You couldn't help me with a damn thing if you're life depended on it! You could watch a million people drown in a river, and all you'd worry about is how much money you could pick out after they'd died! Don't think I haven't seen through your lies Okeda, and don't think for a moment you ever replaced my Baitou-sama!" She stared as hard as she could, for as long as she could, into Okeda's eyes before again falling down in a mass of tears.

Okeda was suddenly taken aback, and he had almost no idea of what to do next. He got up from the ground, swallowing the saliva that burned in his mouth. He could suddenly smell the scent of burning fish, but he couldn't tell from where.

"Just leave me," she whimpered, squeezing her hands into tight little fists until they bled. "Just leave me be. Please."

Okeda ran out of the house, almost crying himself, as he finally began to understand the display of raw emotions he had just seen. When he got out of the house, and propped himself against the outer wall, he began shaking uncontrollably. He sat down, and then looked into the sky, the light being cut in half by the surrounding rooftops. It was then that the words of the old man from the day before came back to him.

"You'll be torn apart by them, and you know it!"

"Only it wasn't heaven and flames this time. It was the love of two people, a love I seriously underestimated. I guess that kind of love only has one definition," he said to himself, as the wind flung by his ears and brushed across his face that was heated by the sun high above, "unbeatable."