Just keep saying to yourself, "This isn't a darkfic, I have faith in Karina, this isn't a darkfic..." I'm going to take the suspense down a few notches and instead put a short little "intermission" of Battousai's thoughts. This should satisfy all the people clamoring for "Who does Battousai truly love? What's the deal? Tomoe or Kaoru?" I need a break. You need a break. Here it is.

*claps* Obviously, you have enough faith in me (or perhaps morbid curiosity) to get this far, so kudos to you! I sincerely thank each one of you for sticking with me; you all are true friends. No words are enough to ever express my gratitude, but I'm going to have to deal with this short space...

Dedicated to: tanuki-chan (not exactly, but that's part of the plot... you'll see...), Susan (I know you're dying to find out what happens, but I can't make the plot go "bam bam bam heart attack bam" We need breathers after the bombshell ^_^ Hope this satiates...), QOAVD (you still living there? Here it is, don't die!), Arashi (*rushes to a hospital* "Yeah, she passed out after lack of oxygen to her brain cells..." What can I say, you're the one who is really responsible for getting my hopes up about this. In the end, it's all about your kindness and understanding. *glomps her* Thanks for everything...), Jason (What are you sorry about? You spelled Gehenna correctly ^_^ Thanks for the encouragement!), Calger459 (It's certainly a change from blanket scenarios, right? *grins* I didn't mean for it to get this deep, but now I'm glad I did it. Glad to know you're still with me on this, but I'm just postponing the answers to your questions. Sorry!), eri (I know about the "line". Trust me, I won't cross it, read too many fanfictions that did, and I know exactly what you mean about using it to just further the plot. I don't think you can judge after reading this particular chapter because it's a breather chapter, but I suppose you still could if you want to... be kind but brutally honest. I love honesty), omochi (I'm all about the scissors idea... too bad I can't fit it in... *evil smile*), J. Liha (if you liked Soujirou's past, you might be interested in Hiko's past ^_^), tenshi (I was stunned after I read your review, it totally nailed my plot. I'm proud that you can be so in tune with the way the story's going even though I haven't even explained anything yet. You are truly psychic. *laughs*), omni82 (Sorry about your lack of sleep, I can't help it. I do whatever the muse in my head tells me to do. But thanks for sticking with me...), Xara (*hugs her* Your review really picked up my day, it's honestly really nice to know that there are people who actually appreciate me not explaining everything at once ^_^), sasori (cookies are good. Diggity), raphie (check your inbox), Crystal (I hate chores. Hopefully you sort of understand the chapter, right?), Sanosuke ( *nods* Yeah, don't worry too much about your image. ^_^ It'll all turn out in the end...), Caro (Wow, you like this chapter the best? Now THERE'S something I didn't expect to hear...), M.Kasshoku ("Having doubts" is probably the biggest understatement of the year, I was ready to trash the fic because I felt so scared about reactions. Good thing I have people like you and Maren to cheer me on ^_^ Thanks!), and Sephy (The Spanish was not supposed to be understood by the people... I admit I just sort of stuck it in there. It made sense to you? *cackles* Yes!!! Three years of study have not gone down the loo!!)

Enjoy!

*********

They Say Cameras Are Only Good For Pictures... 10
By: Karina Kineshi (coronaflare@mail.com)

I don't know how I fell in love with her.

I suppose that's the life of a hitokiri, blood and angst and death. We're not expected to show feelings, let alone fall in love. I remember the day my master told me that I was way too soft to be his pupil and would never stand up to the rigors and stress of becoming an assassin. The very next day, I packed up and left. Just like that, without so much as a word to him. I think he knew, however, but it still shocked me that the closest person that I've ever known would hurt me by leaving me to myself.

The sin of ignorance is just as strong as the sin itself.

All I wanted to do was find peace in killing, an impossible and stupid dream. I thought that if I could eliminate the problem, you would find the solution. So I wandered the barren, war swept plains, looking for my answer. After awhile, every single person, every single battle, every single sound, was like déjà vu. A horrid, horrid déjà vu, replaying over and over again in my mind. The same terror stricken screams. And the dreams, oh God, the dreams. I was starting to lose all grasp of reality, like I was slowly sinking into a whirlpool of madness and blood. Walking the razor's fine line between insanity and reality, this was my world.

Perhaps, they were both the same thing.

I began to lose empathy. Gradually, all the screams would echo in my vivid dreams, and I had thoughts that if I got fast enough so my victims wouldn't have time to scream, their cries would subside. And with that reasoning came a price. Although their earthly voices were heard no more, cut down by a frenzy of blood, their unearthly ones continued to haunt me. I sought mercy, something to get me out of the lunacy I was drowning in.

No one answered my prayer.

So the waltz of death kept on playing; something that its dancers could never get out of. They say that tales of me had grown far and wide, beware of "the demon with the amber eyes". Looking back, I cringe now at that hated nickname. I am not a demon, only a fragile, lost soul.

Perhaps, those were both the same thing.

Dear God, I remember thinking that only if someone could pull me back from the depth of hell, I could forever live my life eternally grateful. But the red stained earth told me otherwise. What kind of God would let his people suffer like this? What kind of God lets his people be killed by people like me? There had to be no God. If there was no God, there was no Devil. Without The Devil, there aren't demons. I couldn't be a demon then, could I? However, there was a hell. I had seen it right here on earth.

I was a dancer in it.

If there is no heaven, then how can there be a "Heaven's Justice"? I remember assassinating around one hundred people, and wherever I went, there was always a couple of men behind me to pay their respects to the dead men I had slaughtered. I don't remember much; I was too caught up in the agony of my mind that I didn't concern myself with their trivial matters. I do remember papers that said "Heaven's Justice" on them, pinned to the dead bodies. What idiocy, didn't they know that there was no heaven? I muttered a silent prayer for one of the men and cursed at the stinging sensation he had wrought on my cheek. I had to admit, the man had a strong will. But obviously, not enough. He was dead, a piece of parchment fluttering in the wind fastened to his clothes, glorifying a place that didn't exist.

Heaven.

I was surprised at the man's instinct for survival, very surprised. Of course, I wouldn't allow myself to get carried away by such frivolous things such as emotions. I decided to go to a bar that night and drown away my sorrows with one of my master's favorite drinks. I'd never really cared for the stuff before, there was one time he let me have a sip and I nearly gagged. He hit me on the head and said that I wasted a perfectly good mouthful. It stung my teeth and made my windpipe feel like it was collapsing on itself. I was nine then, but I was older now. A boy doing a man's job, killing, drinking, dancing with insanity. I've seen things that no young teenager should have to see, hear, or touch. Unfortunately, there was no one left to dance except me. Always faster, faster, faster. Kill, kill, kill.

I craved an intermission. I chose sake, even though to my guilt racked mind it tasted like blood. In the reflection, I saw nothing but dismembered bodies writhing, heard their ghastly cries, and that harsh coppery taste...

"In spring, cherry blossoms by night. In summer, the stars. In autumn, the full moon. In winter, the snow. These are always enough to make sake delicious. If it tastes bad, that's proof that there's something sick inside you."

I'm getting tired of the dance, all I want is to be my own person and to have peace... no more waltzes for one... please...

Whatever deity up there heard my prayers. He sent me someone in the package of elegance and plums. He sent me a partner for this insane waltz.

My lovely Tomoe.

See, there I go, talking about emotions again. I suppose all these years of being in Gehenna has softened my heart, but it was she who truly taught me to love. Needless to say, she really was pretty. A welcome change from all the ugliness and horror of war. However, she was an ice queen, someone who never showed their emotions. Just like me. I suppose that's what drew me to her in the first place. Always sophisticated, always calm, never rash, never smiling. At first, I didn't want anything to do with her, but those false patriots at the bar were harassing her. I'm glad they left of their own accord, because if their stupidity didn't kill them, I would have.

I'm going to assume that you all know the story and how it goes, how I met my then to be wife. If Shinomori hasn't already told you, I will. I made short work of the two bumbling idiots and another shadow assassin that had been sent to kill me. I killed him with his own sword, a somewhat ironic and hilarious twist to a grim situation. Rather, I thought it was hilarious. Just goes to show you how close I was to losing my mind.

"You know how they say in plays, he made it rain blood..."

The hair on the back of my neck prickled; it was that woman from earlier, I recognized her crisp and clear voice. Now that she had seen me, I could not allow her to live. Such a shame too, she was beautiful when I saw her. Would make a good wife to some lucky guy someday... I turned around and caught sight of her. I realized that I was staring, but did she not know? Her porcelain face was stained with red streaks of that horrid liquid, not only that, but her clothes and umbrella took on a ghastly crimson light. The stark paleness of her features against the black of night, drowned in an orgy of scarlet...

With a voice clear of tremors, she spoke again. "... you are the one who truly makes it rain blood." I realized that she was the one as soon as our eyes locked. Dark, soulless pits of sadness and other emotions tangled up in some unfathomable existence... those were her eyes. I did not even see or smell the blood anymore. In all my wasted days of slaughtering and robbing precious lives, such a beautiful aroma has never graced me. All that filled my senses was that delicate fragrance of...

White plums.

I was grown-up, yet still a child. I had never dealt with such powerful emotions set forth inside me before, and when they burst inside me, they surged against my soul. I fully realized that I could do nothing else but stare at her; no one has ever shown such boldness and courage in my face before. No man ever, let alone a woman...

My sword slipped from my nerveless hold, something that never happened to me before. It landed in a puddle of bloody earth at my feet, making some of it spatter onto my hakama. I didn't really care, the rest of it was soaked anyways, but that's not why I was stunned. She gently caressed her own cheek, keeping those dark eyes fixated on me. Then, in a single, fluid motion, she fell like an angel without wings. I darted forward to catch her and felt her lithe body in my arms. It felt odd to hold another person who wasn't dead, for I haven't done so in such a long time. I can't even remember the last time. My life on the mountain with my master... that didn't feel like my lifetime, but it was.

Naturally, I felt awkward, but I would never have admitted it to myself before. After all, I was the hitokiri. I was supposed to know everything about everything even before I had contact with it and adapt to a situation, so therefore handling a woman couldn't be that hard, right? I was so caught up in the fragrance of plums and her body in my arms that I didn't hear the voice in the back of my head. If I had learned anything, it would be to trust no one. You are in control of your own destiny and fate has nothing to do with it. One person, one soul lost. Kill everyone who knows of your existence and you will find peace.

Then why was it so hard?

Instead of running the woman through with my blade, as I should have done, I sheathed it and slung her over my shoulder. I smelled a bit of sake among the plums; so she was drunk. I shook my head regretfully, people do the stupidest things when they are intoxicated, and maybe that's why I stayed away from the stuff as I did. Against my better judgment, I headed towards my assigned place of residency for the time being. I simply couldn't leave an unarmed and drunk woman in the middle of a city at nighttime. I would just leave her at the inn until she slept off her hangover and she could be on her way. She didn't seem like the talkative type, so something inside me begged for her life. Something stirred inside me that I haven't felt in a long time, mercy.

How such a woman could reawaken emotions was beyond me.

And so the wheel of time rolled on, and I kept on dancing my endless waltz, but little did I know that I was no longer to be alone.

*****

"Tadaima."

The lady slowly lifts her head and regards me with a nod. "Ah, Himura. You're home late tonight—" Her eyes widen ever so slightly and her mouth hangs a little bit open. "— what are you doing?"

I shift uncomfortably. My job was to kill, not to negotiate. You don't need words on a battlefield. "Well, um..." I stuttered ineloquently. "There was a fight and she fainted, and..." The woman on my shoulder stirred a bit and moaned while the landlady narrowed her eyes. I prayed to the gods that this would go smoothly and she would just let me retire to my room.

"Are you sure that you didn't just get her drunk?" Now, if I had been that bumbling rurouni that my body has been taken over with, I would have fallen over and said some sort of nonsensical word like "Oro?!" Fortunately, I didn't lose my calm, but I couldn't come up with a comeback to that one either. The lady sighed and waved her hand towards my room. "This isn't a teahouse, but I'll let her stay just this once. I'll get her some warm water and... a change of clothes."

I graciously bowed and carried her to my room, but not before another voice joined the conversation. "Okami, what is it?" a sleepy voice muttered.

Okami stopped in her quest to get warm water and smiled at the half slumbering man in her doorway. "Just that boy that Katsura-san is looking after, that's all."

"You mean... Batt—" I glare at him and lower my head, warning him not to complete my name or he won't be a complete person in the morning. He thankfully sees me and stammers, "... Himura brought home a girl?!"

Why is that so surprising? True, I don't know how to deal with women at all, but have I become so lost in my own world that something as mundane as the opposite sex has become a surprise to others? Was I that out of tune with the world? I was a killer; I had no time for such things like relationships. I always assumed that people would be so scared of me that I'd never even bothered to think about it. I was only fifteen, but I didn't realize then that since the rest of me had grown up, that point had to come up sooner or later.

I carried the nameless woman to my room and put her in a corner. I trusted that Okami would tend to her. While I was setting her down, I noticed two bright drops of blood fall from my face and disappear into her hair. Dumbstruck, I touched my cheek. Probably not the smartest thing to do, because as soon as my calloused hands felt that open wound, my cheek felt like it was being stabbed by a thousand silver needles.

It's... reopened?

That man from earlier... the scratch that he had caused... the one with the incredible will to live... he's haunting me. One piece of folklore my master told me before I left was that if someone ever caused you to bleed, somehow, his or her soul would be sucked in through that opening. If something very familiar to that person was to ever come in contact with the killer, then their soul would try to escape from the wound. I laughed at him when he said that, after all, Shishou was always the superstitious type. Much later, I found out why he was always so believing in supernatural nonsense: he was the dreamweaver. Not only was he a she, but also he had taken the form of his own child!

Okami cleared her throat. "Himura, would you mind leaving the room while I get your friend cleaned up?" I didn't answer with words and instead stepped out, closing the door behind me. That scratch was still bleeding profusely, but the rest of me was so covered in sweat and dried blood that I could really care less. Odd that I actually remembered that fantasy that Hiko always talks of with the soul, but no matter. I'm a killer; I don't have time to entertain such myths.

You remember when I told you earlier about Hiko assuming the form of his child? Even though my master would never tell me why, Hiko the dreamweaver would. One had to admit, despite his vanity and pride, he was an attractive man. I always wondered, even at my young age, why he was not married off to some woman just as beautiful as he was. I got my answer in Gehenna, and also the reason why the dreamweaver is a little child. It seems that my Shishou had an affair with a woman before he became my master.

It definitely struck me as a slap in the face would.

Romeo and Juliet all over again. Yes, I have read the book. Being around civilized members of society has taught me a few things about the outside world. She was from a noble class, some highbrow family who had a lot of power and wealth. He was just a simple boy, but they both shared one thing that doesn't care about social stature: love. To make an incredibly long story short, he snuck up to her room one night while the entire castle was asleep. Eight months later, she had a child. Everyone in her family was scandalized and demanded to know who the father was. She steadfastly refused to tell, but her honor and the family's honor had been tarnished. Her family made her cook and clean the baby by herself. They locked her in her spacious room and wouldn't open the door until she spoke. The only time that door would ever open was to give her supplies that she needed for food and clothing.

She named her Soen. Translated literally, this meant "silent one". I couldn't have picked out a better name for the child, because from what the dreamweaver's personality is like, it fits her perfectly. She never speaks, but instead communicates her desires through some sort of telepathy. I doubt the child was psychic, but Hiko tells me that she was mute. Her mother always wondered why she would never cry, never wail like other babies would. Soen displayed intelligence unbecoming to her age, if she wanted milk, she would go up to the cupboard that held it and point at the door. If she didn't get it, she would go into fits of frenzy and upturn tables and such. This frightened the mother very much; she was still young and didn't know how to deal with this kind of pressure.

Seven years of this torture and not hearing another person's voice other than her own, this slowly drove the mother to desperate thoughts. Don't ask me where my master was during all this time, the dreamweaver would not tell me despite her openness. I suspect that he visited his child and lover at night when everyone was asleep through her window and would stay with them until morning. Hajime is probably the closest one to Hiko and she says that the man would do nothing but watch the face of his child while she was sleeping. But the ghastly dreams that the mother had... Hajime denies that she ever gave the stricken woman any nightmares, and I wholeheartedly believe her. The Fate of the Present is not that heartless, but I think that dreams can also come from the tormented depths of your soul.

No, I know for a fact that nightmares come from your innermost fears. I had those every night while I was the hitokiri.

They loved each other, even after all this time, so my master suggested that they run away and start a new life. The mother wearily shook her head and said she would not go. For what reason, I would never know. Perhaps she felt a certain obligation to little Soen, maybe she wanted her child to grow up with honor, who knows? Either way, she didn't want to go. My master begged her and said he was learning a new form of swordmanship that would protect all the weak people and ensure their future.

Hiten Mitsurugi Ryuu.

The mother gasped and defiantly said that she would not allow her daughter to be brought up around killing and fighting. They started to scream at each other, well, mainly the mother upbraiding shishou for turning to violence to resolve conflicts. You know my master; he was still headstrong about what he believed in. If he wants to protect something with all his heart, you can't pry him away from that. Not even love could do it. He told her to reconsider one more time, but she held her head high and refused to leave.

Soujirou told me that without another word, he left through the window and out of her life forever. Right after my master left, the mother started to cry. Being the Fate in charge of emotions, Soujirou had to be there to watch it all. The very first word that came out of little Soen's mouth was "Father."

Too bad he really didn't hear her, he was too busy gripping his sword in a tight hold. Soujirou said that he was crying too.

Ahh, my master... How come you couldn't tell me this before? Did you not think I would understand? Perhaps you were right, I never would have even fathomed how much it hurt. Soujirou told me that my master was aching so much that he wanted to kill himself with his own sword. Couldn't blame him, rejection in love is far more painful than living. Hajime stepped in and convinced his soul that he could do so much more good learning and passing on the principles of the sword. That was when a new soul was created, one of longing and made in the image of the daughter, Soen. Most of the time, she is quiet and contemplating, however, when she doesn't get what she wants, she goes to the other extreme: rage. It wasn't until many, many years later when doctors in the current time gave this kind of disorder a name: bipolar. According to them, one minute a person can be on top of the world, the next, spiraling into a rage or depression. Shinomori tells me that this is when the two conflicting souls of a person both want control of the body at the exact same time, therefore leading to violent spasms.

The new soul became the third Fate: Hiko, the dreamweaver. Soujirou remembered an old prophecy that said something like, "Out of the tears of sadness are borne a smile of silence." Hiko was the final piece to the puzzle; Gehenna was finally complete. Why they chose my master, I don't know. Everything is part of the master plan, no one, not even souls like me, can ever hope to untangle the mystery.

*****

I woke up that morning feeling different than all previous nights before. I actually slept well. No mind-boggling nightmares, no drowning in blood, nothing. No dreams at all. I suppose a dark, dreamless sleep is a whole lot better than dark, nightmarish one. The first thing I noticed was that the woman was gone; her bedding had been rolled up and propped against the wall. My resulting fear was that I had actually fallen asleep in front of her! What if she was hostile? What if she had a knife? I had no consciousness of the night before I went to sleep, what if she belonged to the other side? I could have been killed! Looking back, I believe that that moment was the time I started to depend on people other than myself. Granted, it wasn't much of a trust at first, but I was just so tired of being so self reliant...

Another fear of mine is that she'd leave before I got the chance to talk to her. At the time, it would probably be under the guise of veiled concern, as I would not show it for any other person other than my superiors. Besides, it was more of a required concern along the lines of "So, who's going to kill you today? Do you know? Shouldn't you be in your house?" sort of thing. I never really meant anything I asked, I just wanted to get it over with and move on. I wanted an answer and being concerned for people just slowed me down. I guess no one really knew my true feelings on the matter simply because I never showed them.

I got up and nearly bolted out of the room, running straight into... "Okami-san?" The landlady smiled at me with a giant stack of trays in her hands. I somehow knew she was giving them to me, so I held my arms out to accept. Instead, she pushed them into the hands of—

"Here, why don't you take these in for me?" I did the stupidest thing I've ever done: fall over. No, not just fall over; topple over like a domino just like that bumbling rurouni personality of mine. Gods, I felt like a damn fool. Maybe it was the shock of seeing the young, pale-faced woman again; maybe it was the part of no dreams last night... I knew that it somehow had to be connected to her. The girl looked at me for one split second with those fathomless eyes and blinked once. Very slowly, it was more of a look down than a blink, really. I suppose that's not important, but that just caught me for some odd reason... Okami-san walked into the room and grinned at me. "Despite appearances, your girlfriend here is a very good worker!"

I did the second stupidest thing I've ever done at that point: stammer like a moron. I tried my hardest to ignore the growing leer on Okami's face, but I think I ended up blushing like a tomato. "Um... what's... your... name?"

Yeah, right. Smooth, Battousai. Really smooth. You don't even know her damn name.

The woman slowly lifted her head, giving me another look at those eyes. Without so much as a vocal exaggeration, she simply and matter of factly gave me what I was looking for. The name of the woman brave enough to challenge this demon. The name of the classic cool beauty. The name of the woman with the soulless black eyes.

"Tomoe."

Just like that. Tomoe.

I finally had it: the name of my dancer. I somehow knew at that moment that I wouldn't be alone anymore.

Kenshin and Tomoe... and so the wheel of their destiny began to turn, round and round and round...