Thanks you all for the reviews! If you are asking yourself exactly where
this story is taking place in the Kenshin world, it is not long before the
story with Tomoe, meening around ten years before the tv series. For those
who asked, yes, the series is as good as the manga.
On to the fic!
Part 2 : Vanishing
She stayed on her knees, panting, for quite a long moment before she felt someone helping her up. Her limbs were too heavy to stand alone, without help. She leaned on the hard chest and groaned when her stomach seemed to roll over itself. She looked down and froze when she she saw the arm covered by a dark blue kimono holding her at the waist. She gulped and closed her eyes. "Are you going to kill me?" she whispered in a steady voice, refusing to let show her fear.
It took a while, but the young man finally answered her. "No."
His voice sent shivers up Willow's spine. There was no emotions what so ever in his voice. It was dull, devoid of any feelings. She nodded slowly and let herself be guided through the dark streets of Kyoto. She held on tightly to his arm, afraid that she'd fall if she let go his support. She looked into his eyes in search of. anything, any little clue that this man could feel anything else than hatred or desinterest. Grey eyes cold as ice was the only thing her gaze encountered. If he had emotions, they were buried deep down inside him, invisible to even himself.
A bloody rain drop fell on her hand. Surprised, she touched her cheek with the tip of her fingers. They came bloodied a little. The blood of the drunk man. Her stomach lurched. "I think I'm going to be sick again," she said quickly, stopping the manslayer with a gentle hand. She fell on her knees, unable to support her own weight any longer. She dry heaved for a minute or two, while the red haired man waited patiently for her sickness to pass.
Willow closed her eyes when she felt the strong arms lift her up again. "I'm not feeling too well," she whispered. And then went limp.
* * *
-Willow's POV-
Where am I?
I can feel myself moving but my limbs aren't working. Someone is holding me. There is no other way. And I can feel his arms. My head is pounding. The world is still spinning around me. But I have to see for myself. Was it all just a dream? Am I still in Sunnydale? Is it Xander or Giles the person holding me? Spike maybe? Did we win? Is Dawn alive? Is the world still there?
The sight greeting me wasn't the one I was expecting.
It was not a dream. I am no longer in Sunnydale. I don't know if Dawn is alive or if we won the battle against Glory. And it's neither Giles, nor Xander, nor Spike who is holding me. None of them had long red hair. And none of them holds a katana.
It's official. Me, Willow Ann Rosenberg, 18 years old, currently living in Sunnydale, California in the 21st century, is stuck in the past, probably in an alternate universe. I'm in Kyoto, Japan, in the middle of the 19th century, currently being very sick, cold, completly wet from the heavy pouring rain and being held by a manslayer who killed someone in front of my very eyes not an hour ago.
I hate this week.
"I see you finally woke up."
I shrieked and I would have fell on the ground if the man didn't have good reflexes. "Goddess! Don't scare me like that again!"
I'm not sure if I'm hallucinating or not. I would bet I saw his lips twitching, as if he was trying hard not to smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you feeling better? Can you walk on your own? You're not very heavy, but my arms are starting to tire."
I groaned. "No, I'm not feeling better. The world is still moving too fast right now. But I'll try to walk on my own if you let me lean a bit on you. I owe you for saving my life from that drunk man and, of course, for not killing me."
I gently touched the ground and sighed. I held is arm as strongly as I could without hurting him. He may be a murderer, but I owe him my life. So he couldn't be that bad. I looked around me as we walked through the dark and empty streets. "Where are we going?"
"I'm bringing you to the inn where I live. The land lady will let you stay for the night." He pointed in front of him. There was some kind of big house in front of us and there was light inside.
"This is where you live?" He nodded. "Not bad. for an assassin. I would have thought you lived in a cave or something like that." I hid a smile when I saw some light entering his eyes at my comment. At least, I knew that I hadn't losen my touch in trying to lighten the mood at bad times. "What do I call you?"
"People knows me as Hitokiri Battousai. But you shouldn't call me that in public."
"I understand. You might get killed, right?"
He didn't answer me. We entered the inn and were imediatly greeted by a woman. "Landlady, a room for the stray cat."
"We don't have any rooms left. You brought her here. She can share your room for the night. Surely you won't mind."
I followed him up the stairs and to his room. "She didn't mean what I thought she did, right?" I asked timidely.
"She can say whatever she likes. You can sleep there. I always sleep by the window. Good night."
I don't know how long I stayed awake, but long enough to see the sky become graduatly brighter. When I was sure the sun would rise soon, I quietly walked to the door and I cast one last look at the manslayer. He was sleeping peacefully by the window. It was then that I saw how young he really was : 15, maybe 16. Physically only. His mind was much more mature. What I mistaken for a man was actually a boy who had already seen too much. a bit like my own. You couldn't stay blind if you wanted to live on the Hellmouth.
"Thank you," I whispered. And I left the inn.
* * *
-normal POV-
When Hitokiri Battousai woke up in the morning, the sheet was neatly folded and there was absolutely no traces of the woman he'd taken to his room the previous night, but the slight smell of green apple lingering in the air.
On to the fic!
Part 2 : Vanishing
She stayed on her knees, panting, for quite a long moment before she felt someone helping her up. Her limbs were too heavy to stand alone, without help. She leaned on the hard chest and groaned when her stomach seemed to roll over itself. She looked down and froze when she she saw the arm covered by a dark blue kimono holding her at the waist. She gulped and closed her eyes. "Are you going to kill me?" she whispered in a steady voice, refusing to let show her fear.
It took a while, but the young man finally answered her. "No."
His voice sent shivers up Willow's spine. There was no emotions what so ever in his voice. It was dull, devoid of any feelings. She nodded slowly and let herself be guided through the dark streets of Kyoto. She held on tightly to his arm, afraid that she'd fall if she let go his support. She looked into his eyes in search of. anything, any little clue that this man could feel anything else than hatred or desinterest. Grey eyes cold as ice was the only thing her gaze encountered. If he had emotions, they were buried deep down inside him, invisible to even himself.
A bloody rain drop fell on her hand. Surprised, she touched her cheek with the tip of her fingers. They came bloodied a little. The blood of the drunk man. Her stomach lurched. "I think I'm going to be sick again," she said quickly, stopping the manslayer with a gentle hand. She fell on her knees, unable to support her own weight any longer. She dry heaved for a minute or two, while the red haired man waited patiently for her sickness to pass.
Willow closed her eyes when she felt the strong arms lift her up again. "I'm not feeling too well," she whispered. And then went limp.
* * *
-Willow's POV-
Where am I?
I can feel myself moving but my limbs aren't working. Someone is holding me. There is no other way. And I can feel his arms. My head is pounding. The world is still spinning around me. But I have to see for myself. Was it all just a dream? Am I still in Sunnydale? Is it Xander or Giles the person holding me? Spike maybe? Did we win? Is Dawn alive? Is the world still there?
The sight greeting me wasn't the one I was expecting.
It was not a dream. I am no longer in Sunnydale. I don't know if Dawn is alive or if we won the battle against Glory. And it's neither Giles, nor Xander, nor Spike who is holding me. None of them had long red hair. And none of them holds a katana.
It's official. Me, Willow Ann Rosenberg, 18 years old, currently living in Sunnydale, California in the 21st century, is stuck in the past, probably in an alternate universe. I'm in Kyoto, Japan, in the middle of the 19th century, currently being very sick, cold, completly wet from the heavy pouring rain and being held by a manslayer who killed someone in front of my very eyes not an hour ago.
I hate this week.
"I see you finally woke up."
I shrieked and I would have fell on the ground if the man didn't have good reflexes. "Goddess! Don't scare me like that again!"
I'm not sure if I'm hallucinating or not. I would bet I saw his lips twitching, as if he was trying hard not to smile. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you. Are you feeling better? Can you walk on your own? You're not very heavy, but my arms are starting to tire."
I groaned. "No, I'm not feeling better. The world is still moving too fast right now. But I'll try to walk on my own if you let me lean a bit on you. I owe you for saving my life from that drunk man and, of course, for not killing me."
I gently touched the ground and sighed. I held is arm as strongly as I could without hurting him. He may be a murderer, but I owe him my life. So he couldn't be that bad. I looked around me as we walked through the dark and empty streets. "Where are we going?"
"I'm bringing you to the inn where I live. The land lady will let you stay for the night." He pointed in front of him. There was some kind of big house in front of us and there was light inside.
"This is where you live?" He nodded. "Not bad. for an assassin. I would have thought you lived in a cave or something like that." I hid a smile when I saw some light entering his eyes at my comment. At least, I knew that I hadn't losen my touch in trying to lighten the mood at bad times. "What do I call you?"
"People knows me as Hitokiri Battousai. But you shouldn't call me that in public."
"I understand. You might get killed, right?"
He didn't answer me. We entered the inn and were imediatly greeted by a woman. "Landlady, a room for the stray cat."
"We don't have any rooms left. You brought her here. She can share your room for the night. Surely you won't mind."
I followed him up the stairs and to his room. "She didn't mean what I thought she did, right?" I asked timidely.
"She can say whatever she likes. You can sleep there. I always sleep by the window. Good night."
I don't know how long I stayed awake, but long enough to see the sky become graduatly brighter. When I was sure the sun would rise soon, I quietly walked to the door and I cast one last look at the manslayer. He was sleeping peacefully by the window. It was then that I saw how young he really was : 15, maybe 16. Physically only. His mind was much more mature. What I mistaken for a man was actually a boy who had already seen too much. a bit like my own. You couldn't stay blind if you wanted to live on the Hellmouth.
"Thank you," I whispered. And I left the inn.
* * *
-normal POV-
When Hitokiri Battousai woke up in the morning, the sheet was neatly folded and there was absolutely no traces of the woman he'd taken to his room the previous night, but the slight smell of green apple lingering in the air.