Pain Freak
Ronin Setora
Part 1

* Recap *
... So he did crouch, pleased, amongst a score of bodies, scattered
and drenched in their own blood.

------------------------------

Blue skies lay above, the gentle sound of nature surrounded him. Birds
chirped their lively songs to one another, common conversation between them
of pure happiness. The time was Spring and the world took note of it.

Smaller animals scurried between shrubs and leaped bravely between branches,
eager to greet the world they had recently reawoken to. Life was begginning
again, time for rejoice.

Among all the greens, blues, and pleasant sounds lay a ghostly black. It was
in horrible contrast with the world around it, a demonic presence almost in a
time of great happiness. And the black housed a torn soul trapped within a
boy's body. But this boy found his only comfort when doused in such shadow,
smothered by his own thoughts and misery.

Many would think this boy hateful of the world but would voice nothing to
him, busy fleeing in fear his dreadful, dead gaze. No light shone in his eyes
as did those of the rest of the world, rather hatred for the present
situation and all that suffered it.

"Hitokiri ..."
His quiet mutter sent birds flying away, startled, "... Battousai. A cold and
heartless killer..."

The words he mumbled stood out against his drab attire, they held a long
suppressed emotion, great dispair weighted his words. So the boy remained
late into the night, when finally all shadows had consumed his mind and all
that remained was bloodlust. The Battousai drew the black envelope from the
black sleeve of his black gi and his eyes released their final bit of
sympathy for all men.

*

"AGH!!"

The body twitched for a few moments before the slain's final breath escaped
his lungs. He had not woken that morning with the plan to die that very
night. Though he had plegded to his clan his life, it was not his intention
to let go of that life just yet. But the silent killer that had come now
destroyed him, ruined his intentions.

Himura, the Battousai, stared down at the body, contempt and sorrow causing
his body to shake violently. He had so long believed himself beyond grief for
these he was ordered to rid the world of. Were they not corrupted? Those that
quested to hold back Japan from its future? Or was he himself corrupted, to
slay them so often with so little emotion, perhaps taking pleasure in their
screams?

'"When the archer misses his target, he looks within himself for fault",'
Himura mentally quoted Confucious.

The Battousai's chilling voice spoke in the back of his mind, "We are not
corrupted. We are the defenders, the true heroes of the coming revolution.
Are you coming to doubt our abilities?"

Himura shuddered at each mention of "we" from the Battousai. He detested
being recognized with that shadow. Himura Kenshin craved happiness only found
among people and sadly admitted to himself his happiness was gone, his time
in the shadows had been far too long to return to the old way.

As the hitokiri cleaned his blade, Himura desperately wished for tears while
Battousai craved the next mission. The boy was ripped apart from himself,
lost in the sea of blood that was Kyoto, slowly drowning...

*

The room was completely dark and empty but for one thin boy. Despite these
things, as the innkeeper passed the door, she heard distinct moans. She did
not know only one inhabited the room, she assumed, as the boy carried two
swords he was samurai and thus, could have at any time brought any number of
girls to his room. It was not her concern; she proceeded hurriedly from the
hall to escape the sounds and images in her mind.

He sensed a weak energy nearing, that of a woman most likely. As the ki
neared, he drew the knife across his forearm and let loose a low growl,
closely followed by a moan. He knew the innkeeper could hear, it was his
intention to send her away in this manner.

As the woman's life energy faded into the distance, he continued prodding
with the blade along his arms for a spot that did not sport scars from his
previous experiences. At last he found a good area and dug in as deep as he
knew safe and dragged the blade upward, toward himself. The fierce pain was
wonderful, he couldn't force himself to stop...

The boy's long hair fell from its topknot to his face and shielded his
vision. He finally stopped cutting himself to retie it and by then had
noticed the sudden entrance of several fairly powerful energies to the inn.
He brushed the few remaining strands of his snow white hair from his pale
face and stood, placing his swords through his belt.

"I suppose there is no place to truly have fun in the blood-soaked city."

The boy chuckled when he noticed a few spattered drops of his own blood
soaking into the mats of the room,
"Blood-soaked, indeed."

He gave a full laugh as he climbed out the window and snuck away from the
building through the alleyways; the lust for another's blood having finally
taken him.

*

A dash from both sides, followed by a chink of metal. Steel clashed against
steel, quiet grunts from the two swordsmen. The Shadow Warrior's first
battoujutsu strike had not been enough and now he was engaged in a swift duel
with another.

The blades continued to meet before the Shadow faultered his steps on a loose
stone; his opponent took his chance to strike. The blade was nearing the
shadow's throat, their seemed no escape, the Hitokiri's time had come...

Kenshin woke quickly, sweat like bullets, pouring down his face. His brow
shone with beads of the salty liquid. The Battousai spoke to him,

"You are doubting me. That would never happen to us, we are perfect."

Reassurance from the kage did not calm Kenshin, moreso, it frightened him to
a greater extent. A Hitokiri's life was never long, his had gone far too long
considering the average.

He stared at the wall before him and found comfort only the in the katana
resting upon his shoulder. Himura rose and turned, focusing on the morning
sunlight through his open window. It was a new day, perhaps one of great
suffering. He knew unconciously to travel to some local bar and recieve his
latest orders from Iizuka, but it was not in his heart this particular
morning to be depressed so early. He would meet the man in the afternoon.

Kenshin left the room and wandered the alleys for a few moments, his Hitokiri
caution still present, before he rested upon the wooden rails of a foot
bridge over a small brook. Before him lay a vast forest, behind him a bloody
city. It would have been so easy to just walk out of Kyoto and leave behind
all the killing that had taken him over.

Battousai screamed in rage at the very thought of it; it was inconceivable,
unnacceptable to walk out on such great fun he believed. But these comments
were just more motivation to Himura to leave Kyoto. Battousai pondered the
situation and finally hit Himura hard,

"Where would Katsura be left? Is he not like a Lord as Samurai were in the
past? You would sacrifice your honor to save yourself?"

The Battousai's emphasis on "honor" was almost an insult to Kenshin, as
thoughts of his master entered his mind, but he understood- He could not
abandon the Bushido ideals that defined Japan, doing so would make him as bad
as those he killed. It seemed the bonds that held him to Hell were deeper and
stronger ties than any he had lived by before.

"I do not flee my fate, this I swear." His words were heavy with despair but
firm with determination.

*

Again the boy was forced to run to gain the ground he desired. Posing as an
amatuer had its perks but it was complicated to retain the image with so many
pursuers. Their number was of no consequence though, Death was coming for
them in moments, he felt the heat surging through his blood. Time to have
some fun.

His pursuers, the resident officers that declared themselves defenders of the
streets, came in waves toward the childish, overconfident swordsman. The Nibu
Wolves took it upon themselves to rid Kyoto of vermin that judged themselves
to disturb the peace without consequence.

A soldier, apparently the leader of that particular group, waved his open had
forward in a motion that told his first line of warriors to rush. He assumed
the first wave would do the job fully so he never had a chance to warn his
other men to draw their swords.

"IDIOTS!!" the boy's battle cry echoed off the walls and he gave semi-muffled
grunts as his wounds faded from his mind and pure skill decimated his
opposition. He tore through the lines of the Shinsengumi, completely
confident in his abilities; talents which were far greater than the weak men
he faced. Before one wave's blood could land upon the walls, the next line's
bodies were severed and bleeding on their own.

He let loose a hateful laugh as he took down all three groups that had come
to take him. All that remained after the slaughter was the captain who
quivered in fear of the warrior before him.

"Wh-who are you... n-no... WHAT are you... ??!"

The boy raised his katana in basic Samurai high stance. A cold smirk spread
to his eyes, which shown with a light so deadly, most would have died in
fear.

"I am Kyuumei Chii and, though I am as human as you, I've been called both oni and
kami. Perhaps I am indeed your Demon God, for I believe your life is now in
my hands."

The Shinsengumi warrior had only his pride remaining, that and cowardess. To
take the former meant to fight and accept his warrior's death as he knew the
fighter before him was greater. But to take the latter meant to suffer
disgrace in his final moments and to suffer eternity.

He slowly drew his sword and prepared to confront his final moment as a
warrior should. His breaths came slowly as he quested to still his beating
heart and readied to fight to his very last.

"You ... y-you are not a G-God.. because. . I c-can beat you. . ."

Chii brought his sword down with a speed greater than the eye could perceive
and in just that instant the duel was done. The other warrior's face split
into two clean halves, right down the bones of his teeth. The bare inside
flesh still writhed with living blood, his body seemingly unaware of the
quick death.

Gradually, his skull cracked and a flood of his life fluid spilled as an
erupting volcano from his neck. Chii wiped his blade clean and took up the
Shinsengumi warrior's katana from the ground. He cleaned it also, then
sheathed it with its owner. He gave a deep bow, mumbled a few words, then
drew a dagger from his gi.

While his right arm had countless scars of his own meaningless doing, his
left arm was marked very carefully, each cut with a purpose. On his left arm,
using the tanto, he left another mark, long and deep in his forearm muscle.
Chii left the mound of bodies behind and wandered the streets in search of an
inn for the night. The words he had muttered hovered over the alley,

"For your warrior's spirit, I note your existence."

*

Battousai took the envelope swiftly from Iizuka's hand and stashed it in his
sleeve. Iizuka spoke quietly,

"Be careful. We've heard rumors of a warrior slaying the Nibu Wolves."

Battousai's cold glare spoke for him but he voiced his thoughts nonetheless,

"I have no worries."

Himura wished to argue quite differently with the kage that seemed to speak
for him so willingly. It was none of his concern anyway, he had to fulfill
the new mission.

~More to come minna-sama, matsu kudasai...

a/n: Japanese glossary- "kage" = shadow; "oni" = evil demon; "kami" = god OR heavenly (divine) being