By: Hitokiri Gentatsu
Rating: PG
Author's Note/Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin. He belongs to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shueisha 'Jump Comics', and Fuji Television. I am making no money with this story so please don't sue but feel free to review. Thanks and enjoy.
Chapter 4: Rurouni's Heart, Hitokiri's Soul
"No, he will start to feel divided inside. Part of him will be his true self. The other part will be a ruthless hitokiri."
Kogoro Katsura
OVA 1
(Subtitled)
After practicing for
several hours, Kenshin fell into an uneasy slumber that lasted for no more than
half an hour. His dreams were full of screams and streets that ran crimson with
spilled blood. He could smell it all around him and feel it on his hands and
face. The smell and feel of it seemed to follow him no matter how many times he
washed nor where he went to hide from it. He looked down at the katana in his
hand and saw that the blade was stained crimson. He screamed then and that
scream was what jerked him back to the present.
He sat up, his eyes
wide and staring and his breathe coming out in short gasps. He found that he
was sweating and brushed a hand across his forehead to remove the sweat that
gathered there. The night around him was silent and a small breeze stirred the
branches of the trees nearby, chilling his body. But for all the apparent peace
and quiet around him, Kenshin couldn't relax enough to sleep again. He felt the
prickle that indicated that he was being watched and it made him uneasy. It was
as if something was laying in wait around the corner, waiting for him to make a
mistake.
"Something here is
not right." He rose from his place by the door and walked out into the
courtyard again, taking in every shadow and pebble around him but there seemed
to be nothing to cause his feeling of uneasiness.
"This place…Why does
it feel like I'm in Kyoto again, surrounded on every side by danger?"
He shivered at the
thought as the air around him turned slightly chilly. This unnamed village felt
like Kyoto did on the eve of a battle or to be more precise, something about
this place or someone in the village was making his warrior instincts react as
if he were still in the middle of a war zone like Kyoto. Kenshin could feel the
hitokiri hovering once more near the surface of his thoughts but this time he
made no effort to banish his darker side's voice. He stood tense and silent but
nothing happened and eventually he went back to his relaxed position by the
door, though he was not in the least bit as relaxed as his position indicated.
His amber tinted eyes kept careful watch for danger while his mind was occupied
in trying to figure out what was wrong here.
"Why am I so tense?
I feel like I'm preparing for battle but there doesn't seem to be any reason
for it. Why should this peaceful village 'feel' like Kyoto?"
The hitokiri's voice
remained silent.
"Why do I feel as if
something is about to happen?" He unsheathed his sakabatou and looked at its
shining silver surface once more seeing the blood covered katana from his
dream. As he sat transfixed by the image from his dream, the hitokiri within
muttered, wishing for his katana that had been left behind on his last
battlefield.
Kenshin smiled a
cold smile but then shook his head and the runouni returned. He sheathed his
sakabatou again and closed his eyes, taking his memory back to when they had
entered the village earlier that evening.
"That was when this
feeling began."
He replayed their
entrance into the village in his mind but could find nothing out of the
ordinary about either it or the village itself. He opened his eyes again and
looked up at the sky studying it with his violet gaze.
"What is wrong here?
What is seems out of place? Why does simply being here seem to affect me so?"
"Maybe you fear
they will find out who you are." The
logic of the hitokiri's statement could not be denied but…
"No, it's more than
that. There is something going on here. I feel as if we are being watched."
"And so you are…" A
voice spoke from the shadows.
Kenshin leapt from
his position and found himself standing in the center of the courtyard, his
hand over the sakabatou's hilt.
"Who are you?" the
hitokiri's cold voice called quietly into the night as his amber eyes scanned
the area for his foe.
"I would have expected
the Hitokiri Battousai to remember me." The voice paused, sounding a bit
disappointed. "It matters not. I have come to tell you that I will never let
you leave this place alive. The blood that you have spilt cries out for vengeance
and the souls of those who died by your hand cannot rest until you are dead.
You have been judged and I have come to mete out the just punishment you
deserve for you many crimes."
The Battousai's eyes
narrowed and began to glow. Before Kenshin realized what had happened,
Battousai had unsheathed the sakabatou and reversed the blade to the edged
side. A sudden coldness came over him then as all emotions drained from him.
"Try and take me
then," he said in a deadly calm voice.
"Now is not the time
and this is not the place to spill your tainted blood. I will wait until the
appropriate time and place to exact revenge for all those who died on the edge
of the Hitokiri Battousai's sword. You will die as they died."
The words faded and
Battousai scanned the area but the presence he had felt was gone. Calmly he
sheathed his weapon and looked around once more before returning control back
to Kenshin again.
"Someone knows we
are here. We should leave now before others get hurt." The Battousai's voice held a gentle note of
concern and warmth for the children and their guardians, an odd sound for the
cold voice of a killer to have.
"No. I promised to
see them safely to their temple. I gave them my word and they need my help. I
will not break their trust."
"If I leave them,
they will still be in danger. I will not leave them now that my word has been
given."
The hitokiri within lapsed
into silence once more and Kenshin's eyes turned back to their normal color
again. Kenshin returned to his place by the doorway and spent the rest of the
night in deep thought, always returning to the same question: "Which one of my
many enemies has come for me at last?"
*
The next two days
passed without incident, although the tension within both the village and the
shrine grew greater as the days passed. Kenshin could see no reason for this,
for outwardly everything appeared to be normal. But the longer he spent in and
around the village the more he realized that things were anything but normal.
Although the village
seemed to be prosperous, none of the villagers seemed to be benefiting from
that prosperity and though the fields were full of crops, the villagers
themselves appeared to be starving for lack of food. From these signs alone
Kenshin guessed that someone was controlling the village, leaving only enough
food and goods behind to insure that the villagers survived but only just.
There were no men in the village except the very young and very old and all the
women had a haunted look about them. Kenshin could only guess what they had been
through. Their men were most likely off fighting or dead and someone had taken
advantage of the situation to take over the village.
Despite this though
the villagers were friendly toward the nuns and the children, though they were
distinctly cold toward him. Whenever he went to the market or walked the
streets of the town alone, the villagers either ignored him completely,
shooting suspicious glances at him, or they went out of there way to insult him
or try and do him injury. Kenshin began to dread walking through the town at
all because of this but he could not allow even this to cause him to go back on
his vow and leave altogether. They may not trust him, for whatever their
reason, and he could accept that, but they needed his help and he could not leave
them to their suffering any more than he could leave those who he was already
protecting. It was his nature.
There was only one
person in the entire village that even spoke to him and who didn't see him as
some kind of a threat. Mishimoto Akira might be blind but he seemed to see
things far more clearly for that blindness then the rest of the villagers did.
Kenshin hoped Akira could tell him something about the people who were
terrorizing the town. He needed more solid information than what could be gathered
by overhearing conversations and Akira was the only one likely to give him such
information.
Kenshin skirted the
village proper and come to the back gate of what had once been the large
Mishimoto estate on the edge of town. Mishimoto Akira had been a wealthy
samurai of higher rank than Kenshin, who was well respected as a kind, just and
honorable man. His wealth came not from corrupt dealings or evil intentions but
from honest hard work. He had instilled the same ideals in those who served
under him and had been only too happy to share his good fortune with others.
When the war came,
he sent off his sons and retainers to fight for the protection of the Shogunate
while he remained behind in the village to protect it with his own hand picked
force, feeling he was to old to be involved in the fierce fighting in and
around Kyoto. He had protected it for a time until something had happened to
cause it to fall into its present state. Kenshin wanted to know what had
happened and Akira was the best source he had for that information. Indeed he
was Kenshin's only source for it.
Kenshin entered what
was left of the main house, which consisted of two rooms. The rest of the manor
had fallen into ruin and some of it looked as if it had been through fire. The
barracks that once housed retainers were in a similar state as the house and
whenever Kenshin passed them he was reminded of the fire he had found himself
in the middle of when he discovered there were those in the Ishinishi who
wanted him dead. He shook his head to clear it of thoughts of the past.
"Akira-san? Are you
here?" Kenshin called out softly not wanting to startle the man. He looked
around the two rooms and found no sign of his friend.
"Perhaps he is in
the garden."
Kenshin stepped
through the outer doorway, which was open and saw Akira-san sitting in the
shade of gnarled old sakura tree.
"Ah, Himura-san.
Welcome. Please sit." Mishimoto Akira's head turned toward him at the sound of
his entrance into the garden.
Kenshin bowed at the
elderly samurai in a show of respect for both his age and rank. Then he sat
down across from him and looked around the garden. The garden, like the rest of
the estate was a mess. It showed the same signs of neglect and was full of weed-infested
patches but here and there Kenshin could see that a loving hand had once cared
for this garden and there were a few hearty plants that still managed to grow
there.
"My wife, Katsuma,
loved this tree and the garden around it. I loved to watch her out here among
the flowers she loved so much. This garden was hers and when she died I hadn't
the heart to keep it up." He smiled a sad smile and turned to face Kenshin,
though he could see nothing through the puckered scar tissue that covered his
eyes. "But you didn't come here to talk of gardens or to listen to the
ramblings of a lonely old man."
Kenshin's eyes
widened in surprise. "No I did not." He paused for a moment, unsure of how to
continue. "Akira-san…I need to ask you about what happened here and about the
one who controls this village through fear."
Akira's slightly
stooped form straightened and he 'looked' at Kenshin again.
"Is it possible that
you are the one?" he said, his hands reaching out to touch Kenshin's face.
Kenshin's first
instinct was to move out of the way. He did not like people touching him, a
holdover from his hitokiri days, but he remained as he was and let Akira touch
his face. Akira's hand stopped when it reached the bandage that still covered
the scar on Kenshin's cheek. Carefully he removed it and touched the scar
underneath, tracing the two intersecting lines and strange look on his face.
Then Akira dropped his hand from Kenshin's face then and spoke quietly.
"You are he, the one
sent to free us from their control. Tell me Himura-san is your hair the color
of a sunset and are your eyes full of amber fire? The scar you bare speaks of
the pain and suffering you have already endured."
Kenshin gasped at
Akira's description of him.
"I can tell by your
reaction that I am right. My wife had a vision as she lay dying…she told me
that a man who carried a deep sorrow within his heart, a former hitokiri
seeking redemption, who would come here and save us. I will tell you what I
know, Himura-san."
Akira took a sip of
his tea and gathered his thoughts.
"Up until four years
ago, Yasuo village was a small but prosperous town founded by my grandfather.
He had been a ronin who managed to catch the eye of the local daimyo and his
only child and heir, a daughter. They were wed and this land was given to them
as a wedding gift. The village grew up around the estate. Everyone prospered
and lived lives free from worry or fear. The estate passed from my grandfather,
to his son and finally to me. The village grew and her people continued to
prosper under my family's guidance. As you know, four years ago news of the
fighting in Kyoto reached us here and I organized a group of fighting men
mostly made up of my own retainers and a few of the village men who had been
trained in the sword. They left and one by one others slipped off to join them
until the only men, besides a few of my retainers and myself, were old men or young
boys. I never dreamed someone would try and take advantage of this lack of
warriors. We were to far from the fighting and there was nothing in our location
that would be of strategic value to anyone.
"But someone took
advantage of your situation."
"Yes," Akira bowed
his head. "And nothing had been the same since. Will you help us, Himura-san?"
"Yes, I will but I
need to know whatever you can tell me about them," he said with a quiet
confidence.
"They come once
every three months to pick up their spoils. As long as we give them whatever they
want they let us live. Sometimes they take children to sell into slavery and
they also take women by force and sometimes sell them too. Most of the children
of the village are their own."
Kenshin's heart
became full of rage at Akira's words and his eyes turned from purple to amber.
He would not allow this suffering to continue not while he was there to stop it
at its source.
"They enter the village
from the north, always at night and they stay for several days. Their leader is
a tall man, dressed in black, who is an expert swordsman and he comes with
about fifty others. They are all armed mostly with swords.
"Arigato, Akira-san.
I promise that I will do what I can to free this village from them." Kenshin's
voice was dark with anger and colder than the deepest winter night.
"Himura-san?" Akira
asked uncertainly, hearing the hard edge in Kenshin's voice. "Are you sure you
can handle them alone? The leader blinded me for standing against him and I am
a master."
Kenshin rose and
placed a hand on the hilt of his sakabatou. "Yes, I can," he said in a calm
voice.
"Then you are truly he,
are you not? The one who controls the most ancient, secret and powerful of sword
techniques not seen for generations? You are the strongest of the Ishinishi…"
"Yes, I am," Kenshin
said very quietly, his voice once more that of the rurouni. "But could you not
mention it to the others. I'd rather they didn't know who I really am."
Akira nodded in
sympathy. "The road you walk will not be an easy one and your life will be
difficult because of who you were."
"I am just beginning
to realize just how difficult, Akira-san. However, this is the road I have
chosen to follow no matter how hard it is to walk. This is the only way I can
atone for the things I have done." He paused with his back to Akira. "Can you
do something for me? Would you look after the nuns and the orphans who came
here with me?"
"I will do my best."
"That is all I can
ask. I cannot allow them to be unprotected and your sword is still strong."
Akira smiled at
Kenshin and he knew that he had guessed right. Despite his blindness, Akira
still trained with his sword daily, as any samurai must. There would be nothing
for him to worry about on that end. Kenshin moved to leave the garden.
"Good luck,
Himura-san."
"Arigato, Akira-san."
He bowed and left.
Kenshin left the estate via the same gate he entered by and retraced his steps on the outskirts of town until he reached the river. He needed to meditate and to prepare himself for the battle to come for it would be perhaps the most important one of his life. It would not only determine the future of Yasuo Village and the people who dwell there but it would also determine whether or not he could truly hold to his vow to never kill again.
