Chapter 2

It just keeps getting better, he thought furiously.
Not only could he not fulfill his duty as a hitokiri, he was stuck teaching a bunch of hopeless rookies.

Great.

Himura walked quickly into the dining hall. Most off the men had already sat down to eat, so naturally every head turned when he walked in, sweeping the curtains to the door aside.

It was plain that he was absolutely seething with rage, even though his stride was very calm. His glare cut through the air in front of him as he took his seat at the usual table and called for a waiter.

The man approached the angry hitokiri carefully. This had happened before.

"W-would you like the usual, Himura-san?"

"No. Sake, and lots of it."

The waiter gulped. "Yes, Himura-san." He hurried away with the order.
The new men talked in whispers as Battousai rested his katana on his shoulder and took up his usual pose.

Why must Katsura-san insist on keeping me here? It's not logical that I fight a meaningless battle on a front so far from Kyoto and stay to instruct a bunch of fools!

His grip tightened so hard on his saya that it cracked. The men gulped.
Himura's eyes were narrowed. He was almost bristling.

I don't like it when I don't understand something. This battle must be important, or I wouldn't be here. But why isn't he telling me?

His lips curled in a snarl. He shook his head.

"Here you are, H-Himura-san." The waiter returned with four bottles of sake. Battousai took the first one as the waiter set the jars down and left. The hitokiri threw back the entire jar in less than two gulps, not even bothering to use a cup. He nearly slammed the bottle down on the table.

"Ah, Himura-san? Um..." Kenshin looked up to see one of the new recruits from the training session half-cowering under the look he gave him.

"Yes?"

"Um, the commander told me to inform you that...that the battle starts in five minutes. You need to head to the--" He stopped.

Himura's eyes were glowing a bright yellow gold. "Very well," he said in a low, cold tone. Gulping down one last mon, he stood with his katana and wakizashi belted firmly to his side and very quickly strode out the door.

The men watched his back as he left. They exchanged glances. He probably would not return.

Drunk and angry was not a good combination for a manslayer.

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Two days worth of training went by peacefully, with no word from the army or Battousai.

The men occupied their time with sword fights, talking and relaxation. Kuroi and Tarou, however, were extremely bored. The men were taking their evening break once again. The two men had been thrilled that they were going to receive sword instruction from the most skilled manslayer in Japan, but what with this new battle taking place, it seemed his time would be occupied by other things.

"I really wish he'd come back," Kuroi muttered. "He's good; everyone else here is just an amateur who has no idea what they're doing. They have the chance to learn from hitokiri Battousai for crying out loud, and they won't even appreciate it."

"Yeah, but has it occured to you why he's called the best in Japan?" Tarou reminded him. "The others are afaid of him. There are rumors about him that would make your blood freeze. He's not just an ordinary manslayer."

"All the more reason for us to take advantage of it," Kuroi insisted. "Himura could teach us his style. We'd be unbeatable. The whole war would be over and we'd win without even trying."

"Don't count on it. Hiiten Mitsurugi Ryuu is supposed to be impossible to learn, and it takes years. They say even Himura hasn't mastered it completely. His teacher, some hermit who lives in the mountains, he's the only one to ever have perfected it."

"Yeah, and they also say Himura refuses to teach the style for personal reasons," another man piped up. "The guy had some problems, and he just keeps killing for the Ishin without worrying about his personal life."

"Bet he doesn't have one. They said he was so angry to be stuck here he went and got himself drunk right before the battle, so he might not come back at a--"

Suddenly a shout rose among the new men.

"Oi! Oi, someone's here! Look!"

"Hey, what's all the commotion?"

"I don't know; I think the soldiers assigned to that battle are coming back!"

"What's up?" Tarou asked, already knowing.

"Somebody's coming. Let's go!" Kuroi said, leaping from his seat. The men followed him out the door. They stopped at the entrance as the gates were opened for one man.

One? Maybe it's a scout. Kuroi shielded his eyes from the torchlight, only to see--

"Himura?"

The hitokiri was sagging slightly; he clutched at his shoulder as he entered the courtyard filled with men. His clothes were tattered, his wakizashi was missing, his katana in his hand, and he had obviously been injured.

His expression was calm; his eyes were a dull but glowing yellow, as they'd been when he'd left two days ago. His appearance was very fearsome even as he limped quietly through the large twin doors.

But even more fearsome was the fact that he was soaked from head to toe in blood. And almost all of it was not his own. His hair was loose, flowing down his back, and red was running down his drawn sword like water from a half-turned faucet.

Everything about him was an angry red.

The commander rushed up to meet him. "Himura-san, daijoubu ka?! You're wounded!"

"...I'm fine."

He walked calmly to the bench in the courtyard, still dripping blood. As the men watched in silence, he folded his stained arms and closed his eyes.

The manslayer looked like a frightening, painted statue, completely red and soaking in warm crimson liquid, his hair no different from the rest of him.

The commander approached him cautiously, backed by the rest of the men. "Uh...Himura-san? W-where are the all others? Did we win?" The commander forced a smile. "They sent you back to give us the good news, right?"

There was a long silence.

Himura's eyes opened, shining gold from beneath a layer of blood and red tresses. His voice was almost inaudible.

"We won."

There was an explosion of cheers from the men as they celebrated their newly attained victory. As they eventually died down to an excited murmur, the commander turned to one of the soldiers. "Tell the men at the front they can return home. We'll be waiting!"

"No." The men turned to see Battousai stand and begin to walk away. "Don't bother to send the message."

There was an uncomfortable silence. The commander tried to talk to him. "W-what do you mean? We won! We have to tell the men to come back to base!" He smiled weakly.

"True. We did win. But all of the men are dead." The commander's jaw dropped. "I took care of it. Tell Katsura-san of the victory and get someone to clean up the bodies."

Himura walked away into the darkness, a trail of blood and red foot-prints marking his passing.

He stopped. "Oh, and one more thing. Tell the men we start training again tomorrow." The hitokiri scowled. "If you all are going into battle, I don't want you failing as pathetically as the men on that field." He turned to face Kuroi and the others. "Oh yes, and remember to bring your real swords." His eyes gleamed.

"No training equipment."

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Ja, weird I know. I'll try to come up with more ASAP.
Thank you for the reviews!!! I'll make sure there's more funny stuff next chapter.
^_^X
"Hey, I wanna make a guest appearance!!"
"What?! Hiko are you sure?"
"If you don't let me on I'll use Ryu Sui Sen."
"Eeeep."