No matter where I run, no matter where I hide, I let them find me, as a reminder of who I once was...
-Anonymous

Meiji Era
Rain. Such a beautiful, yet cheerless, thing. Rain poured on Edo. The streets were bare, and all were inside, hiding from the torrents of it. All, that is, except for a lone figure, slowly making his way through beaten paths to the river. His hair was matted and water was freely streaming down to his clothes, but his eyes were vacant. He didn't notice. He neared the bridge, walking in a surreal and tired gait. In his wrist-guarded hand, he clutched a red wakazashi.

The unmistakable smell of iron and flesh wrapped around this man as he reached the middle of the bridge. Great sadness surrounded the boy, giving him an aura of intense emotion. He ran his fingers through his hair, more of a reflex than a real action, for he did not notice as the hair just went back down into they're original place. His eyes were as blue as the shirt he wore, brilliant as the sky, yet covered by his dark bangs. Under the drenched bangs and dead blue eyes, a smile appeared. A smile that was never supposed to surface on the face of the young man again.

He stopped and looked at the sword in his hand, the red almost completely vanished through the waves of water sliding over it. And he laughed. He laughed. But the laugh was cold, without mirth, and without true cause.

Tokyo-3, 2015
Ayanami Rei sat up from her bed as the sound of rain outside continued. It bothered her. Rain... it... should not rain... She recalled the weather forecast for that day, and she found this sort of noncompliance with set rules... discerning. She walked around for a while, just walking, around her apartment. She reached her kitchen. Then she stopped. Rei stood there, in her kitchen for a while, in her pajamas, just listening o the rain. How sweet your life must be... to only know freedom even when you don't exist at all.

Meiji Era
"So, Shishio-san, it looks as if my wandering ends here..." Soujirou whispered with a raspy voice to his long dead master. About a year had past since that eventful campaign had ended, yet he still held on to the memories of a past long forgotten and half-remembered. "...And it looks as if I could not escape my past, either, Battousai..." he continued.

The rain battered harder, but Soujirou did not care. The screams of past victims he had slain still ravaged his mind. "If only..." he whispered, the smile still plastered on his lips. Last night, three men attacked Soujirou in an alley, but they were young and arrogant. He could have made an escape easily, but something stirred in Soujirou that night. Something he thought he had buried a long time ago since he became a rurouni.

He had killed them. He did not have a reason; he did not even give them a chance to defend themselves. He killed them, just struck them senseless to hell. "Ha, and I thought that I would have changed..." he muttered, his eyes sinking into his socket, his voice more hysterical than before. Soujirou was shivering a bit, because of the cold, but his thoughts were still in his own world. "This life is meaningless." he sighed to the cold.

"And what do you think you're going to do about it, my young friend?" A familiar voice said from behind him.

Soujirou did not even turn, for he knew who it was just by the sound of that voice. "After so many months, you only come now, Shishio-san?" He said, regaining composure in the sure voice of his master. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, Seta; I thought you were stronger than this." The voice said, stressing the last phrase. " Such a welcome illusion, but I shall not be fooled. Get out of my head, demon, you are not Makoto Shishio." Soujirou answered, shaking his head from side to side.

"How can I be in your mind, when I cannot even fit in your clothes?" The voice joked, chuckling to itself. Soujirou laughed along. "You could always make me smile, Shishio-san, but God knows that doesn't take much to get out of me." The Tenken replied, his voice cheerful but his hands were tensing on the bridge railing.

"Very well, Seta, then I shall leave you." he said, his voice fading. "Remember, I will be waiting for you when you arrive here, Soujirou. I will be waiting when you arrive." Shishio said before he fainted completely and a new voice took his place.

Soujirou knew exactly what his master was talking about. In his mind he saw the former masters of hell, lying at Shishio-san's feet, with Yume at his side and Houji fanatically cheering the dead hitokiri on. "At least I shall know that you have found some solace, Shishio-san." he thought, relishing the thought of an underworld ruled by a killer like Makoto.

Tokyo-3, 2015

The next hour, she was outside, on the roof of her building, the rain still storming on above her. She headed along the edge of the apex, her eyes burning a fire even brighter than the red that usually shown. Lightning crackled above, yet she knew what she was doing. She took a few, uneasy steps towards the edge and looked down. No one was there. With luck, they might not notice her till the rain will stop, and she would be free by then. No more tests, no more false charades, no more acting for that manipulative pig commander of hers. And most importantly, no more pain.

Meiji Era
"So what are you going to do now, eh? Soujirou?" A new voice questioned him again, testing him. Soujirou noticed the calm voice, it reminded him of someone, someone he couldn't remember. "Who are you?" Soujirou shot back, his smile, though not totally gone, but replaced with a semi-frown. "I believe the question is who are you?" It replied, now forcefully, nearing Soujirou with its ethereal presence.

"I am the feared Tenken, Seta Soujirou; number one of the infamous Juppon Gatana, right-hand man to the former hitokiri turned would-be conqueror Makoto Shishio." Soujirou replied, his head bowed down as he leaned on the bridge's railing. "Ah, but that was a man who had long ago died, along with the memories of that time destroyed by the Meiji government." The voice replied, still shapeless and unbiased.

The calmness of the voice shocked Soujirou. Was this how I sounded like when I killed my victims? He questioned himself, shaking his head softly from side to side in disbelief. The voice noticed this change, but only continued to badger him with its question. "Answer me, Tenken, what are you to do now?" The voice asked, now forcefully, making sure that Soujirou could no longer ignore him. That was when he snapped. His voice started shakily, but gained strength as his anger grew within him.

"And what are you suggesting, that I betray my former master like the rest of those cowards? That I become what I was the most against? To shrivel up and die because my cause has gone with it?" Soujirou exploded, years of unvoiced opinions, hatred and fear giving fire to his outcry. This time, Soujirou's hands were raw and bloody from gripping the handrail so tight, but he did not notice.

"Ah, so it is true then. The great Tenken no Soujirou can hold hatred in his heart." the voice said, detached as ever. Soujirou's smile failed for a bit, but he grinned and continued. "You have no right to judge me." he replied. "And do you have the right to judge the fate of those men!" the voice said angrily. Soujirou was taken aback by this burst . "The right to judge was never mine." he replied curtly, still in his cheery voice. "Then what do you have the right to judge with..." the voice asked, now back into its neutral "...now that the choice is yours?"

This tore him. "To die and to live, is that all you have to offer?" Soujirou screamed, finally breaking under the pressure his mind was on. He turned and faced this voice, turned to see his tormentor, only to find himself. "But, my dear friend, to die, you must have lived..." the ghost Soujirou replied.

Soujirou's eyes widened in shock, as the ghost Soujirou, the voice that he remembered but could not place, was his own. The ghost slipped away, as sounds of oncoming policemen and hound dogs gave way to reality. Soujirou heard them, but he didn't turn. He was too busy thinking about what he just heard. To die, you must have lived... He heard the dogs barking, he heard the policemen shouting for him to surrender. He even heard the gun cocking in the rifleman's hand. But he didn't notice.

Time slowed down as the militiaman pulled the trigger to the gun, the sound exploding in Soujirou's ear. He didn't even flinch. The pain was like a shock, but he didn't even balk. Soujirou never really knew fear, so he wasn't afraid of death. Of course... he thought as his body gave a great shudder and he fell to his knees ...to die, I would have had to live. And everything grew dark as Soujirou's senses numbed...

Tokyo-3, 2015
She steadied herself for the leap, rain running down her face. No, not rain. Tears. Yes, tears. Tears of fear, tears of joy, tears of hatred, tears of lost requisitions. "Death is escape, I guess." she said to no one, her mind running on how she was going to end this. But then, something rustled behind her. "Yes, but what is death if you have not lived?" said a cheery voice.

Soujirou lay near the opening of the stairway, his hand clutching the wound at his side, which was bleeding freely now. His vision was still sharp, though, even as the rain and the waves of pain washed over him, but he squinted to see where he was. Rei turned to see the smiling young man behind her, and gasped at the sight. He had a familiar smell. The thick, rusty smell. LCL. Except it wasn't LCL. There was something different to this. For the first time in Rei's life, she had smelt someone else's actual blood.

Soujirou felt the slight tremor of surprise that had broke out from Rei's form, but after that, emptiness. So lonely... Soujirou thought as he still held his side. Rei looked at the man. "You have a serious injury. There is a telephone in the hall. I apologize as I am... indisposed at the moment." she replied in her monotone voice, yet her eyes still burned at the act she was about to do.

The Tenken just nodded and shakily stood up, using the doorknob as a support. "I am sorry to see that I have interrupted something that is obviously very important to you, Miss, but I cannot let you partake on what you are about to do." he answered, his voice heavy. "Do not try to stop me..." was all Rei could muster up, seeing that this person was struggling so hard against his own pain to keep her from taking her life. Just like Ikari-kun.

"Please, young miss..." Soujirou began with his back straight, yet staggering towards Rei "...I once made a vow to not let anyone be hurt if I am present. I broke that vow today, yet I will do all in my power to try and see if I can at least preserve one life before my own slips away entirely."

"Too late." Rei stated, as she leaned towards the edge of the building. She felt the rush of air as she stepped of the building, hurtling into the pavement below. Soujirou did not seem fazed. With his fast depleting strength, he preformed his Shukuchi, his heavenly speed, along the side of the building. The earth shook as he stepped off and launched himself to the falling girl.

The distance between them shrank in an instant. Soujirou ran down. The street was coming up, so with some effort, Soujirou undid his sword from his scabbard and plunged it into the side of the building, slowing their fall. He landed roughly, but he had saved Ayanami from being a splat on the earth. Soujirou was now carrying the shivering Rei in his arms, genuflecting on the sidewalk, breathing heavily. The rain was letting up, and the dawn was just arriving, giving the background a surreal effect.

The people around the scene notice the blood on Soujirou's hakama, and started to call for ambulances. "Hey, that kid's got a wound!" "Get an ambulance, quick!" and more were heard. Amidst the ruckus, Rei turned to see her unwitting savior, her eyes dazed and confused. "Wh-why did you do that." she asked with a quivering voice, just as she began to black out from shock. "Heh, seemed like such a waste to see you die." she heard him right before she collapsed into darkness..

Author's notes:
So this is it. The thing that has been on my back for about a month. Crossover between NGE and Rurouni K. Sorry if the beginning showed too much Meiji era, but since the whole fic' ll be set in Tokyo-3 from this point on, I have to give some background on Seta. For those who are not familiar with Rurouni Kenshin, or Samurai X to some countries, Soujirou Seta is a character from the Kyoto arc under the tutelage of Shishio Makoto, a man who doesn't mirror Gendou in all rights, but just as manipulative nonetheless. Seta's just as messed up as the other NGE characters, with his smile for all seasons, the killing of his family with his own hand, the hanging out with egomaniacal maniacs like the Juppon Gatana so I was mucking up with the idea of throwing him into the mix.