A/N: I'm sorry to have you all guessing who this mysterious Murai guy is,
rest assured I have expanded on him, mainly his relationship to Aoshi and
Misao. Also I have expanded on a minor pairing that was blip in chapter 2.
I realized that I have my characters crying a lot, think nothing of it, I
like to think its because my story is heart wrenching and full of emotion
but I also like to fantasize.
Please review, let me hear your thoughts. If you deem my fic flame-worthy I
merely ask that you back up your flame with a reason. Read, review, but
above all else ENJOY!!!
Chapter 4: Haunted
"Why do you have this?" Before Misao could show Aoshi the picture; he had identified its smiling subject. Her voice was barely above a whisper; she couldn't grasp conviction behind her words. How could she? She didn't understand; how did this college teacher get a picture of her Murai?
"Misao; do you know who that is?!" Oblivious to her internal anguish; Aoshi was floored, she knows Murai? She couldn't be. This can't the girl he left behind; the girl that always brought a smile to his face; the girl who awaited his return. Aoshi couldn't speak; he was barely able to register Misao's tears as she stared at the picture.
"WHY DO YOU HAVE A PICTURE OF NARU MURAI?!" She didn't try to hide any one of the million emotions rising up within her. This man in front of her knew of Murai; he knew her love; perhaps he knows what happened to him. Any formalities that remained between them were now gone; she no longer felt the need nor the desire to restrain herself or her words. Unsplit tears were now flowing freely down her face; their heat lost to her, she was burning with anger; anger at this man that now felt like a stranger and anger at Murai for leaving her so unresolved.
Her tears shone in the moonlight entering through the floor to ceiling windows; her eyes blazed with inner turmoil. Misao remained in the shadows but Aoshi didn't have to see her to know she was crumbling inside; she had to know what happened, if he with held it now her soul would die and the exuberance he had loved so much about her would fade away. "Misao, I have a picture of Murai because he was once my apprentice."
Misao's breath caught in her throat; this is the master Murai spoke so highly of, this is the man that took him away and never gave him back! Unable to think, unable to rationalize, Misao flew toward Aoshi with hatred in her eyes, anger pulsating throughout her body, tears falling carelessly to the floor and visions of a smiling Murai in her mind. "How could you take him away from me?!"
Her question hurt more than the physical pain of her powerful punch; she hadn't held back, she wanted to hurt him. Misao wanted Aoshi to feel the pain she felt; suffer as she suffers. Aoshi had no words to offer; there was nothing he could say to make it right, nothing to ease her pain. He had tried so hard in the years since Murai to forget him, come to terms with him, tried so hard to forgive himself; now here was this girl breaking it all down, forcing a flood of forgotten memories to pour into his mind. "Take him away from you? What are you talking about?"
"He left me to go train; with you!" Her legs finally gave way, she collapsed to the floor in desperation; sobs eating her words. "H- He was supposed to return in April; h-he promised he'd return with the ch-cherry blossoms." Only when she looked up in an attempt at composure she took note of Aoshi's sudden closeness; he must have tried to catch me when I fell. Misao looked at him; this man in front of her, his icy blue eyes, lit by the moon, were melting.
"Murai was my apprentice but he was also my best friend." Before he could finish his thought Misao was overtaken as Ms. Leiko's words came rushing into his head, 'he killed my brother, his best friend.' It was true that Misao remembered she never actually meeting Murai's family; in fact he barely spoke of them. He mentioned that he had a sister but never spoke her name. Murai was a man who would rather relish in another's happy family than dwell in his own broken one. All Misao knew was that when Murai graduated high school, which his parents didn't attend, he moved away to go to college and 'never looked back.' The silence in the room was deafening, Aoshi had ceased his attempt at an explanation when he saw Misao's eyes wide in remembrance. It was the silence that brought Misao back to Aoshi's house and the situation before her.
"Please don't. Don't tell me how you killed him." She refused to look into his eyes for she'd surely fall in. They were focused and concentrated; something Misao wasn't ready nor willing to confront, not yet. She stared at the wood floors, clean and polished, she could see where stray tears had beaded from the wax.
"Killed him? So you think I am a murdrer too." Any hope Aoshi had that this girl would be different was dashed, she was just like all the others; she had condemned me long before today. Any expression that might have revealed his thoughts or feelings was now gone, his mask of indifference had returned. He refused to let her see him die inside; she would never know, he would never heal.
There was nothing she could say; Misao had questioned his innocence time and time again. She went as far as convincing herself that Ms. Leiko had it all wrong; yet in the end she had found him guilty, no trial, no defense, to her he was guilty. She died once long ago, waiting for Murai to return; any life left in her was fading fast. What would Murai think if he could see me now? Here I am with the master he loved so much, even more than that here I am with a chance of happiness and I've condemned Aoshi, branded him a killer.
Aoshi stood, leaving Misao's fallen form to lay on the ground soiled with tears. Turning to face the window he realized that the once silver moonlight was now replaced with the intense orange rays of dawn. Unable to stand, unable to speak Misao merely stared at the back of Aoshi; his black hair shone in the sun's early light, she instantly thought of Murai. "Where is Murai?"
Aoshi's eyes left the comfort of dawn and focused on a tree whose leaves seemed to flame in the light. "I'm not sure." His words were cold, monotone, and completely devoid of emotion. Misao couldn't tell if he was angry at her for calling him a killer or melancholy because of Murai; she felt nothing, she had become numb to the world, numb to Murai and dead to Aoshi.
Aoshi turned to face this insolent girl, the girl who offered him the world only to rip it away once he had accepted. His eyes bore into her slumped form like drills, unforgiving and unrelenting. He merely waited for her to face him, waited for her to stand and leave.
"Murai, why did you have to do this?" Misao's muffled sobs were barely audible, Aoshi's stone gaze faltered. Her pain was just too real for him to merely ignore it, it had been years after the fact that Murai was gone but time had done nothing to heal him, nothing to heal Misao. "Why couldn't you just come back to me?" Misao's eyes hadn't left the floor, she was lost in the abyss of her sadness, the abyss of her longing for someone who wont return.
"Misao, please..." Aoshi's gentle voice stirred her from her reverie; he was offering comfort, his wall had shattered, Misao saw something in him she hadn't seen in so long it hurt to acknowledge its existence. Her eyes so full of pain, so full of longing, so devoid of life; Aoshi refused to allow this happen. "don't, don't cry; not because of him and for him." Misao's sitting form had fallen, she couldn't take this, this emotional ride, it was too much. Her body had given in, it refused to hold her, it refused to take anymore. Those words, those were the words Murai had said before he left her; those words weren't even his, those were the words of his master. She rolled over to her back, focusing on the ceiling fan that turned endlessly, she found a smile had appeared upon her face. Misao had finally figured it all out, she finally realized what had drawn her to Aoshi. He was the part of Murai she had loved so much, he was the words that comforted her when Murai left, he was the proud japanese quirk of Murai that she had found so endearing, he was the man who molded Murai. She had finally found him after all these years, she finally found Murai.
The kendo master couldn't believe his eyes, here was this girl so completely torn, fallen to the floor, looking up in a fit of desperation and suddenly she was smiling. At one time Aoshi had everything figured out, life held no more surprises; pitfalls maybe but held little in the way of uncertainties. Yet, Misao had crashed it all, she, in one night, was able to breath new life into Aoshi; she didn't adhere to his plan, she proved there was still mystery and beauty in this world. He could do little but stand by in amazement and watch her smile grow, watch her eyes soften, watch her tears dry.
Turning to face the teacher, Misao's eyes softened as her life slowly seeped back into her. "I've finally found you." Misao's gaze was focused solely upon Aoshi, he couldn't have turned away if he had wanted. Found me? What is she talking about? "I've finally found you Aoshi." She somehow found the strength to stand, determination resonated from her frail body. Aoshi, unable to move, remained by the window as dawn's light cascaded over him. The halo of light that surrounded his dumbfounded shape simply added to Misao's smile. Her approaching form merely reaffirmed that Aoshi had it all wrong, the ever changing nature of life adheres to no plan. Her unfaltering gaze pierced Aoshi, she commanded he look at her, she commanded he show his emotions. Finally closing the distance between them, Misao held out her hand to his face, caressing it, smoothing over his tattering emotions. "I've finally you in Murai, you were there all along."
For the first time Aoshi saw tears of joy, they glistened in the early morning's light. She was no longer forlorn for a love lost, she was rejoicing for a love found. Aoshi could scarcely believe it when he rose up onto her toes to kiss him. His kisses felt like home, they were soft and gentle, not unlike Murai's but Aoshi's tender touch was the finished product, the masterpiece merely started with Murai. Aoshi's kiss was that of love, that of amazement, that of true reverence.
His insides were on fire, he felt a burning within rise up; this girl had ignited his emotions. Aoshi's icy exterior had melted the moment his lips were taken by hers; his inner turmoil had ceased to rage, his jagged thoughts were smoothed over by her soft touch. Misao had saved him from drowning in his own self loathing, he owed her his life, he owed her the truth. Not yet, he couldn't ruin this perfect moment; looking down to revel in the presence of his savior he was swept away by an ocean of green as her moistened eyes gazed up lovingly at him. Her smile left words unnecessary. Aoshi allowed himself a rarity, a genuine smile; she always did have a way of giving him adequate reasons to smile. A beautiful release, something to make it all ok. He would tell her of Murai, but not now.
*******
"Kenshin!? Why are you acting like this? I don't understand?" Karou's fear was evident in her eyes and saturated her words. The man she had come to love was now someone completely different, he wasn't kind or gentle, he was rough and authoritative. "Hitokiri?" Nothing, no hint this man recognized this name either.
He had entered her room, normally a place he wasn't bold enough to even request entry, yet tonight he took it. He needed no permission for his desires. He gave his victim no answer or explanation for his probing actions. He held back nothing, he let his actions do all the talking he felt was necessary. Climbing on top of her, he demanded she give in to his whim, holding her wrists down with his unrelenting hands. She had denied him too long, her games were tiresome. "I don't want it to be like this!" Her screams fell on deaf ears. Seeing no sign of hesitation, Karou, in a last ditch effort to retain her innocence, kicked him in the stomach as hard as she could. She felt nothing of his slap to her face, as he lay gasping for breath she ran.
Tears spilling unchecked from her eyes she tried to convince herself that wasn't Kenshin who held no regard for her wishes, that couldn't have been Kenshin who saw her merely as a place to fulfil his desires. "It wasn't always like this!" screaming sobs did little to comfort her. Karou ran for what seemed like miles, she stopped only when she came upon a small lake, the place Kenshin had first declared his love for her.
She looked onto the lake, an abyss of black liquid that seemed to swallow the light from the night's stars. Karou stood in remembrance:
~~~~~ "Karou-dono? I have something I must apologize for." Deep violet eyes, peered into her soul as Karou looked at him. Kenshin's fiery hair was ablaze in dusk's light, Karou always loved his hair; she loved how it fell to his shoulders (deciding to grow it out), she loved his futile attempts to tame his hair with a minuscule piece of fabric.
"Hmm? Apologize for what?" Turning from the placid lake to face the man she had come to love, the man she had unofficially called her own. Here was this perfect man sitting next to her, handsome, strong, and most of all not without faults. It was his faults that assured Karou that was indeed real, his faults allowed him to be human, to be hers.
"There's something I should have told you long ago." A quizzical look was all the response Kenshin received. Her emotions were always so easy to read, she was an open book for him to read; all her faults and desires were out in the open, something Kenshin could never do. "When you first came to visit me in the hospital I fell in love with you." His attempts to hide his blush were in vain, it wasn't often that Kenshin spoke of his stint in the hospital, he hated to admit he was weak, hated to attempt he wasn't in control. "The first time I made you smile I realized I wanted to make you smile, always." His face ablaze, Kenshin's gaze was now concentrated solely on Karou. His eyes were intense, sincere, impossible to turn away from. His hand stealthily slid into hers, since when had Kenshin been this bold?! Karou's look of shock that eased into a smile merely affirmed his feelings for her, she would smile as long as he walked this earth.
"Kenshin, I...." She didn't have to finish her sentence for him to know her feelings, the tinge in her checks, the smile on her face, the unspilt tears of joy cascading glistening in her eyes; words were nothing in comparison. That night they walked back to her apartment together, that night would forever been etched in Karou's memory.
~~~
Yet this wasn't the Kenshin of today, he changed. The love of her memories would never have touched her so ravenously, he would never had taken joy in her screams of terror. But why? What made him change so? It was a gradual process, he slowly started turning dark; while he was in the hospital he often demanded people call him by Hitokiri. He was dark then but this wasn't the same, he wasn't a Hitokiri, it was as if he was someone new. He felt nothing as I screamed his name, he didn't even twitch at the mention of Hitokiri; Kenshin had become someone new, someone darker, someone he couldn't control.
"Karou-dono?" A soft voice called to her from behind, she didn't have to see his face to know who it was; no one else still bothered with honorifics. Refusing to face him, she vainly attempted to hold back her tears, his innocent voice was littered with pain; so he was aware of the things he had done.
******
Chapter 4: Haunted
"Why do you have this?" Before Misao could show Aoshi the picture; he had identified its smiling subject. Her voice was barely above a whisper; she couldn't grasp conviction behind her words. How could she? She didn't understand; how did this college teacher get a picture of her Murai?
"Misao; do you know who that is?!" Oblivious to her internal anguish; Aoshi was floored, she knows Murai? She couldn't be. This can't the girl he left behind; the girl that always brought a smile to his face; the girl who awaited his return. Aoshi couldn't speak; he was barely able to register Misao's tears as she stared at the picture.
"WHY DO YOU HAVE A PICTURE OF NARU MURAI?!" She didn't try to hide any one of the million emotions rising up within her. This man in front of her knew of Murai; he knew her love; perhaps he knows what happened to him. Any formalities that remained between them were now gone; she no longer felt the need nor the desire to restrain herself or her words. Unsplit tears were now flowing freely down her face; their heat lost to her, she was burning with anger; anger at this man that now felt like a stranger and anger at Murai for leaving her so unresolved.
Her tears shone in the moonlight entering through the floor to ceiling windows; her eyes blazed with inner turmoil. Misao remained in the shadows but Aoshi didn't have to see her to know she was crumbling inside; she had to know what happened, if he with held it now her soul would die and the exuberance he had loved so much about her would fade away. "Misao, I have a picture of Murai because he was once my apprentice."
Misao's breath caught in her throat; this is the master Murai spoke so highly of, this is the man that took him away and never gave him back! Unable to think, unable to rationalize, Misao flew toward Aoshi with hatred in her eyes, anger pulsating throughout her body, tears falling carelessly to the floor and visions of a smiling Murai in her mind. "How could you take him away from me?!"
Her question hurt more than the physical pain of her powerful punch; she hadn't held back, she wanted to hurt him. Misao wanted Aoshi to feel the pain she felt; suffer as she suffers. Aoshi had no words to offer; there was nothing he could say to make it right, nothing to ease her pain. He had tried so hard in the years since Murai to forget him, come to terms with him, tried so hard to forgive himself; now here was this girl breaking it all down, forcing a flood of forgotten memories to pour into his mind. "Take him away from you? What are you talking about?"
"He left me to go train; with you!" Her legs finally gave way, she collapsed to the floor in desperation; sobs eating her words. "H- He was supposed to return in April; h-he promised he'd return with the ch-cherry blossoms." Only when she looked up in an attempt at composure she took note of Aoshi's sudden closeness; he must have tried to catch me when I fell. Misao looked at him; this man in front of her, his icy blue eyes, lit by the moon, were melting.
"Murai was my apprentice but he was also my best friend." Before he could finish his thought Misao was overtaken as Ms. Leiko's words came rushing into his head, 'he killed my brother, his best friend.' It was true that Misao remembered she never actually meeting Murai's family; in fact he barely spoke of them. He mentioned that he had a sister but never spoke her name. Murai was a man who would rather relish in another's happy family than dwell in his own broken one. All Misao knew was that when Murai graduated high school, which his parents didn't attend, he moved away to go to college and 'never looked back.' The silence in the room was deafening, Aoshi had ceased his attempt at an explanation when he saw Misao's eyes wide in remembrance. It was the silence that brought Misao back to Aoshi's house and the situation before her.
"Please don't. Don't tell me how you killed him." She refused to look into his eyes for she'd surely fall in. They were focused and concentrated; something Misao wasn't ready nor willing to confront, not yet. She stared at the wood floors, clean and polished, she could see where stray tears had beaded from the wax.
"Killed him? So you think I am a murdrer too." Any hope Aoshi had that this girl would be different was dashed, she was just like all the others; she had condemned me long before today. Any expression that might have revealed his thoughts or feelings was now gone, his mask of indifference had returned. He refused to let her see him die inside; she would never know, he would never heal.
There was nothing she could say; Misao had questioned his innocence time and time again. She went as far as convincing herself that Ms. Leiko had it all wrong; yet in the end she had found him guilty, no trial, no defense, to her he was guilty. She died once long ago, waiting for Murai to return; any life left in her was fading fast. What would Murai think if he could see me now? Here I am with the master he loved so much, even more than that here I am with a chance of happiness and I've condemned Aoshi, branded him a killer.
Aoshi stood, leaving Misao's fallen form to lay on the ground soiled with tears. Turning to face the window he realized that the once silver moonlight was now replaced with the intense orange rays of dawn. Unable to stand, unable to speak Misao merely stared at the back of Aoshi; his black hair shone in the sun's early light, she instantly thought of Murai. "Where is Murai?"
Aoshi's eyes left the comfort of dawn and focused on a tree whose leaves seemed to flame in the light. "I'm not sure." His words were cold, monotone, and completely devoid of emotion. Misao couldn't tell if he was angry at her for calling him a killer or melancholy because of Murai; she felt nothing, she had become numb to the world, numb to Murai and dead to Aoshi.
Aoshi turned to face this insolent girl, the girl who offered him the world only to rip it away once he had accepted. His eyes bore into her slumped form like drills, unforgiving and unrelenting. He merely waited for her to face him, waited for her to stand and leave.
"Murai, why did you have to do this?" Misao's muffled sobs were barely audible, Aoshi's stone gaze faltered. Her pain was just too real for him to merely ignore it, it had been years after the fact that Murai was gone but time had done nothing to heal him, nothing to heal Misao. "Why couldn't you just come back to me?" Misao's eyes hadn't left the floor, she was lost in the abyss of her sadness, the abyss of her longing for someone who wont return.
"Misao, please..." Aoshi's gentle voice stirred her from her reverie; he was offering comfort, his wall had shattered, Misao saw something in him she hadn't seen in so long it hurt to acknowledge its existence. Her eyes so full of pain, so full of longing, so devoid of life; Aoshi refused to allow this happen. "don't, don't cry; not because of him and for him." Misao's sitting form had fallen, she couldn't take this, this emotional ride, it was too much. Her body had given in, it refused to hold her, it refused to take anymore. Those words, those were the words Murai had said before he left her; those words weren't even his, those were the words of his master. She rolled over to her back, focusing on the ceiling fan that turned endlessly, she found a smile had appeared upon her face. Misao had finally figured it all out, she finally realized what had drawn her to Aoshi. He was the part of Murai she had loved so much, he was the words that comforted her when Murai left, he was the proud japanese quirk of Murai that she had found so endearing, he was the man who molded Murai. She had finally found him after all these years, she finally found Murai.
The kendo master couldn't believe his eyes, here was this girl so completely torn, fallen to the floor, looking up in a fit of desperation and suddenly she was smiling. At one time Aoshi had everything figured out, life held no more surprises; pitfalls maybe but held little in the way of uncertainties. Yet, Misao had crashed it all, she, in one night, was able to breath new life into Aoshi; she didn't adhere to his plan, she proved there was still mystery and beauty in this world. He could do little but stand by in amazement and watch her smile grow, watch her eyes soften, watch her tears dry.
Turning to face the teacher, Misao's eyes softened as her life slowly seeped back into her. "I've finally found you." Misao's gaze was focused solely upon Aoshi, he couldn't have turned away if he had wanted. Found me? What is she talking about? "I've finally found you Aoshi." She somehow found the strength to stand, determination resonated from her frail body. Aoshi, unable to move, remained by the window as dawn's light cascaded over him. The halo of light that surrounded his dumbfounded shape simply added to Misao's smile. Her approaching form merely reaffirmed that Aoshi had it all wrong, the ever changing nature of life adheres to no plan. Her unfaltering gaze pierced Aoshi, she commanded he look at her, she commanded he show his emotions. Finally closing the distance between them, Misao held out her hand to his face, caressing it, smoothing over his tattering emotions. "I've finally you in Murai, you were there all along."
For the first time Aoshi saw tears of joy, they glistened in the early morning's light. She was no longer forlorn for a love lost, she was rejoicing for a love found. Aoshi could scarcely believe it when he rose up onto her toes to kiss him. His kisses felt like home, they were soft and gentle, not unlike Murai's but Aoshi's tender touch was the finished product, the masterpiece merely started with Murai. Aoshi's kiss was that of love, that of amazement, that of true reverence.
His insides were on fire, he felt a burning within rise up; this girl had ignited his emotions. Aoshi's icy exterior had melted the moment his lips were taken by hers; his inner turmoil had ceased to rage, his jagged thoughts were smoothed over by her soft touch. Misao had saved him from drowning in his own self loathing, he owed her his life, he owed her the truth. Not yet, he couldn't ruin this perfect moment; looking down to revel in the presence of his savior he was swept away by an ocean of green as her moistened eyes gazed up lovingly at him. Her smile left words unnecessary. Aoshi allowed himself a rarity, a genuine smile; she always did have a way of giving him adequate reasons to smile. A beautiful release, something to make it all ok. He would tell her of Murai, but not now.
*******
"Kenshin!? Why are you acting like this? I don't understand?" Karou's fear was evident in her eyes and saturated her words. The man she had come to love was now someone completely different, he wasn't kind or gentle, he was rough and authoritative. "Hitokiri?" Nothing, no hint this man recognized this name either.
He had entered her room, normally a place he wasn't bold enough to even request entry, yet tonight he took it. He needed no permission for his desires. He gave his victim no answer or explanation for his probing actions. He held back nothing, he let his actions do all the talking he felt was necessary. Climbing on top of her, he demanded she give in to his whim, holding her wrists down with his unrelenting hands. She had denied him too long, her games were tiresome. "I don't want it to be like this!" Her screams fell on deaf ears. Seeing no sign of hesitation, Karou, in a last ditch effort to retain her innocence, kicked him in the stomach as hard as she could. She felt nothing of his slap to her face, as he lay gasping for breath she ran.
Tears spilling unchecked from her eyes she tried to convince herself that wasn't Kenshin who held no regard for her wishes, that couldn't have been Kenshin who saw her merely as a place to fulfil his desires. "It wasn't always like this!" screaming sobs did little to comfort her. Karou ran for what seemed like miles, she stopped only when she came upon a small lake, the place Kenshin had first declared his love for her.
She looked onto the lake, an abyss of black liquid that seemed to swallow the light from the night's stars. Karou stood in remembrance:
~~~~~ "Karou-dono? I have something I must apologize for." Deep violet eyes, peered into her soul as Karou looked at him. Kenshin's fiery hair was ablaze in dusk's light, Karou always loved his hair; she loved how it fell to his shoulders (deciding to grow it out), she loved his futile attempts to tame his hair with a minuscule piece of fabric.
"Hmm? Apologize for what?" Turning from the placid lake to face the man she had come to love, the man she had unofficially called her own. Here was this perfect man sitting next to her, handsome, strong, and most of all not without faults. It was his faults that assured Karou that was indeed real, his faults allowed him to be human, to be hers.
"There's something I should have told you long ago." A quizzical look was all the response Kenshin received. Her emotions were always so easy to read, she was an open book for him to read; all her faults and desires were out in the open, something Kenshin could never do. "When you first came to visit me in the hospital I fell in love with you." His attempts to hide his blush were in vain, it wasn't often that Kenshin spoke of his stint in the hospital, he hated to admit he was weak, hated to attempt he wasn't in control. "The first time I made you smile I realized I wanted to make you smile, always." His face ablaze, Kenshin's gaze was now concentrated solely on Karou. His eyes were intense, sincere, impossible to turn away from. His hand stealthily slid into hers, since when had Kenshin been this bold?! Karou's look of shock that eased into a smile merely affirmed his feelings for her, she would smile as long as he walked this earth.
"Kenshin, I...." She didn't have to finish her sentence for him to know her feelings, the tinge in her checks, the smile on her face, the unspilt tears of joy cascading glistening in her eyes; words were nothing in comparison. That night they walked back to her apartment together, that night would forever been etched in Karou's memory.
~~~
Yet this wasn't the Kenshin of today, he changed. The love of her memories would never have touched her so ravenously, he would never had taken joy in her screams of terror. But why? What made him change so? It was a gradual process, he slowly started turning dark; while he was in the hospital he often demanded people call him by Hitokiri. He was dark then but this wasn't the same, he wasn't a Hitokiri, it was as if he was someone new. He felt nothing as I screamed his name, he didn't even twitch at the mention of Hitokiri; Kenshin had become someone new, someone darker, someone he couldn't control.
"Karou-dono?" A soft voice called to her from behind, she didn't have to see his face to know who it was; no one else still bothered with honorifics. Refusing to face him, she vainly attempted to hold back her tears, his innocent voice was littered with pain; so he was aware of the things he had done.
******