I don't own Rurouni Kenshin, but you guys already knew that…
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AN: hey guys, sorry its been so long, but this has been one hell of a week for me. I've had a physics, organic chemistry, history of biology, geography, and marine ecology test; one presentation on salt marsh ecology; a physics lab and a marine ecology lab ALL in the last week. And I still have another physics test on Monday. Poo. Ok, so now that I've ranted about how much college sucks, here's some more Kenshin. There's a flashback in the middle of this, and I marked it with little *** and put it in italics. Hope you enjoy!
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BLADE OF THE PAST
Chapter Eight – The Smell of Blood
Kenshin made his way back to the dojo slowly. His sandals kicked up dirt along the road; his words echoed through his head. She's dead. He'd insisted on it, even though Saitou tried to tell him otherwise. Kenshin had been there. He had seen it himself. Even now, his body can remember the resistance of her flesh at the end of his sword, the way his arm jerked slightly as his blade entered her body.
She never did scream. She only gave him that sad, sweet smile that understood him, loved him, and mocked him all at the same time.
Kenshin stopped walking. He was at the center of the last bridge on the path back to the dojo. He'd taken the most roundabout way he knew of to get there, and by now the sun was starting to dip low in the sky, barely obscured by the mountains to the west. Kenshin stayed there. He leaned his arms on the railing, looking out in the direction of the sea, away from the sun. Perhaps he could stay here, staring out over the water until he could watch the sun rise in the morning. Perhaps he would stay until the sun rose in the morning. Perhaps he would just go back to the dojo – his home.
The dojo was the closest thing to home that Kenshin had experienced in a very long time. But it still wasn't a home, not like the one he'd shared with her. Now, Kenshin felt responsibility to return to the Kamiya dojo; he felt the tender pull of friends and the calm comfort of knowing someone would miss him if he were gone. Back then, in the midst of the chaos and terror of the Revolution, he had felt true peace at the home he shared with her. Their home had been sanctuary, and she had been his sole source of happiness and strength, comfort and tenderness. Just as he provided the same for her. The gentle pull he felt now toward the dojo used to be a desperate need to make his way back to her.
***flashback***
Blood. The heavy metallic smell of it burned the inside of his nose and tasted bitter in his mouth. It was no longer flowing off him, dripping steadily to the ground, but the liquid still covered his body. It blended into his hair and soaked through his clothes. Some of it was his, but most of it wasn't. It made his steps sticky, the material of his clothes cold and heavy with it.
He should have stopped, dipped himself in a river or at least rinsed his hands at a well. But he hadn't done that. The Battousai had only paused long enough to wipe his treasured blade clean before he made his way through the streets. The moon was absent tonight, giving the shadows a deeper color and robbing the world of a normal icy nighttime light. No one noticed the blood-covered young man as he kept to the shadows, slipping further and further away from the city.
The wind was cold, reminding of the old winter and foretelling of the next cold spell before spring's return. Kenshin shivered as he hurried, made even colder as he rushed through the wind with wet clothes. The blood had lost the residue of body warmth by now, leaving him rushed to get to the little farmhouse they'd claimed. She was warmth, and he hoped she'd be there when he arrived. It was a long path, far from the main road. They'd preferred it that way. He turned in to the woods, skimming between trees as he followed along the small footpath. Even this far from the city and this far into the farmlands, he was far too cautious to merely walk along the path.
There were no lights lit when he arrived. He paused, gritting his teeth against the cold bite of the wind and the colder press of blood-soaked clothes against his skin. His hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready to take on any threat. With a brief closing of his eyes, Kenshin focused his senses outward, searching for anything and anyone. Someone was inside the house, just as still and tense as he. Someone was waiting.
Kenshin wasted no time. He hadn't been followed. After the last body of his victims fell, he'd fled the battle scene. No one ever followed him. No one knew of this cottage in the woods where she was waiting for him.
***end flashback***
Sano had given up pacing and now sat with his back against the wall by the gate while he waited for Kenshin to return. The sun was disappearing behind the mountains to the west and the Gensai girls had come home nearly an hour ago, announcing that Uncle Ken was talking to the mean Policeman. Sano knew whom that meant, and Saitou's involvement in their lives usually brought nothing but trouble.
He tossed another rock into the street. Shinta was inside, calmer now and playing with the girls. Of course, Ayame and Suzume had taken a liking to Shinta as soon as they saw him. Yahiko pretended like nothing had happened. And Kaoru had been so upset at the announcement of Shinta's father that she'd started cooking. Sano shuddered at the thought.
"Hello, Sanosuke," Dr. Gensai called as he ambled closer to the dojo gates. "What are you doing sitting outside on this lovely evening? Did Kaoru throw you out again?" The old man chuckled, surely remembering other times that Kaoru's temper had been directed at Sano.
"Not tonight," Sano said, his voice lacking its usual humor. Dr. Gensai noticed right away.
"What's the matter? Has something happened?"
"Oh, no, nothing is wrong like that," Sano said, standing up and waving a hand in the air to brush aside any of Dr. Gensai's worry. "It's just that we've run into a little problem from Kenshin's past…"
"And he isn't here to clear things up for you," Dr. Gensai finished the thought.
"How did you…?"
"I saw him standing on the bridge, looking out over the water, on my way here. He looked so deep in thought that I decided not to bother him. You looked the same way when I came here." Dr. Gensai gave a little laugh.
"Did it look like Kenshin was leaving?" Sano asked, remembering Ayame talking about Saitou.
"No, it looked like he wasn't going to move for a long time, actually. Why do you ask? Is that what's the matter here?"
Sano laughed. If only keeping Kenshin from wandering again was the biggest problem! "No, there's something considerably more serious inside the dojo. Yahiko ran into a boy in town today. A boy with red hair and red eyes, and he claims that the Battousai raped his mother."
Dr. Gensai trailed a finger through his beard. "Kenshin is no rapist," he said thoughtfully.
"Those are my thoughts exactly," Sano agreed. "But there isn't much of a doubt that the kid is related to Kenshin. He looks exactly like him, except for the eye color."
"Perhaps you should ask Kenshin when he returns. There seems to be much more to this story than first glance shows." Dr. Gensai gave a wave and passed through the dojo gates, abandoning Sano to his own thoughts once again.
Kenshin had been married once. That little tidbit of news had been enough of a shock when they'd first heard it. Sano supposed it wouldn't be too farfetched for Kenshin to have had a family once. But why would the kid hate Kenshin? Why would he believe that the Battousai had raped his mother? Kenshin just didn't seem the type.
Then again, Kenshin didn't seem the type to kill either, but he'd done that for many years before he'd met Sano and Kaoru and Yahiko. If the kind and gentle Kenshin they'd come to know and love had once murdered in the streets as the Battousai, perhaps the Battousai was capable of … that too.
Sano huffed and plopped back down on the road. It just didn't make any sense.