The Road Once Traveled
All right, this is Naomi here. I haven't written a fan fiction in what seems like ages. But I hope you enjoy my newest work, I'm grounded from the site I normally visit, so this is what I do to pass my time. A couple of things I have to straighten out before I begin. Rurouni Kenshin, and all other anime I worship do not belong to me. If I had the choice, I would own them all, and never state otherwise. Also, the story itself is based on a role-play a friend and I created. This story will be written from two points of view, that of my original character, Ichidou, and everyone's favorite, eternally smiling character, Soujirou.
It was somewhere around the vicinity of midnight, of that Ichidou Kobanwa was certain. The few stragglers braving the bitter, wintry winds of Kyoto were hurriedly making process towards their invitingly warm homes. Ichidou despised those people, simply due to the fact that she trapped outside, patrolling abandoned alleys and winding paths on which none traveled; while they could warm themselves by hearth fires, scanning the daily paper, and protesting against the newest infringements the government placed upon trading rights with the other countries.
Being a police officer certainly did have its downfalls, Ichidou wryly noted to herself, tugging the tattered jacket closer around her abnormally thin frame. 'Accidentally,' forgetting to eat did that to people. Of course, no one was saying the thought of eating slipped the young woman's mind. Times were getting rougher, and she could barely scrape up enough money to pay for the small shack she owned near the outskirts of town. Food was simply a luxury to her now, every other day or so, she would perhaps catch a bite to eat during a job outside her work with the police.
Ichidou herself proudly did as best she could to simply appear masculine to the unsuspecting public. Starving had a positive outlook in that perspective, she resembled a scruffy ruffian nearly twenty-four seven. Her chest bandaged multiple times, on which no one commented, they simply assumed she did so to protect her exposed flesh from the elements, and future assaults. Raven hued tresses chopped off into a rather uneven bowl- shaped haircut, eyes were a vibrant, bright cerulean. Overall, her appearance was nearly grade-A in fooling others.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, Ichidou's gloved hand flew absently to the scuffed hilt of her beloved katana. A present from her friend, or her father, as most knew the man as Gowasu as. Her real family members were rather snotty traders. Hatred for them was abundant with Ichidou; the bastard she knew as her father had eagerly handed her over to a teahouse, for a simple handful of gold coins. The two years that followed the selling were hell for her. Another reason Ichidou faked masculinity; femininity had lost its enjoyable nature for her several years ago.
Pondering random thoughts, Ichidou passed the outer blocks of Kyoto. Several decrepit buildings stacked roughly next to one another, resembling giant wooden blocks some giant child had scattered thoughtlessly about. Weathered signs attached loosely to storefronts, the paint peeling in odd spots. Proclamations proudly stating random nonsense about best prices and rooms for the night. Several shady figures slinking about, peering cautiously at the one police official daring to stride amongst them.
The skies looked rather ominous, blackened clouds heavy with rain rushing in from the mountains. Already Ichidou noticed a thin mist of raindrops plummeting to the earth a good couple of meters ahead. Bracing herself against the freezing precipitation, she broke into a fast-paced jog. Best not to soak oneself to the bone, and catch pneumonia. 'Nearly there, just a mile or so left to go.' A sharp scream rang out in the thick silence, followed by the sickening thud of decapitation. She halted abruptly, shifting directions to flee towards the area she'd pinpointed as the probable murder scene. Ichidou had done nothing to save the victim, but perhaps she could catch the murderer.
The cloaked man peered anxiously at the prone figure of his victim. Scarred hand wrapped tightly about the hilt of the kodachi he'd used. Blood dripping from the polished blade, forming a small pool at his feet. A rather maniacal laugh erupted from his throat, eyes narrowing upon sensing the various citizens and officials approaching. Snorting, he gave the decapitated head a good kick, slipping with ease into the shadows. Several women who had ventured bravely outside to catch sight of the crime screeched, fainting left and right at the scene. The men looked rather sickened, turning slowly to tend to the women. Children sobbing and wailing, one having discovered the detached head. This was the mess Ichidou stumbled upon, her own face paling to an unhealthy degree upon notice of the body. Yet she swallowed the bile arising in her throat, and stepped forward to help volunteer to lift the body from view. What a horrible evening this was turning out to be.
Once finished with the morbid task, she bid farewell to the others of her police company, starting out for her home once more. All those people, all believing they'd seen the worst-case scenario. At least that woman hadn't been mutilated beforehand. Cringing, she buried her hands deeper into the pockets lopsidedly sewn onto her pants. Of that offense, Ichidou was several times convicted. Though her skills had been hired onto the police force, simply because a majority of the volunteered men were naïve and useless with weapons. No one could possibly know what kind of an obstacle course her life had been. Passing by one of the last buildings in town, she took no notice of the young man watching her, a cheery smile spread across his face; the one most recognized him by, as Seta Soujirou.
All right, this is Naomi here. I haven't written a fan fiction in what seems like ages. But I hope you enjoy my newest work, I'm grounded from the site I normally visit, so this is what I do to pass my time. A couple of things I have to straighten out before I begin. Rurouni Kenshin, and all other anime I worship do not belong to me. If I had the choice, I would own them all, and never state otherwise. Also, the story itself is based on a role-play a friend and I created. This story will be written from two points of view, that of my original character, Ichidou, and everyone's favorite, eternally smiling character, Soujirou.
It was somewhere around the vicinity of midnight, of that Ichidou Kobanwa was certain. The few stragglers braving the bitter, wintry winds of Kyoto were hurriedly making process towards their invitingly warm homes. Ichidou despised those people, simply due to the fact that she trapped outside, patrolling abandoned alleys and winding paths on which none traveled; while they could warm themselves by hearth fires, scanning the daily paper, and protesting against the newest infringements the government placed upon trading rights with the other countries.
Being a police officer certainly did have its downfalls, Ichidou wryly noted to herself, tugging the tattered jacket closer around her abnormally thin frame. 'Accidentally,' forgetting to eat did that to people. Of course, no one was saying the thought of eating slipped the young woman's mind. Times were getting rougher, and she could barely scrape up enough money to pay for the small shack she owned near the outskirts of town. Food was simply a luxury to her now, every other day or so, she would perhaps catch a bite to eat during a job outside her work with the police.
Ichidou herself proudly did as best she could to simply appear masculine to the unsuspecting public. Starving had a positive outlook in that perspective, she resembled a scruffy ruffian nearly twenty-four seven. Her chest bandaged multiple times, on which no one commented, they simply assumed she did so to protect her exposed flesh from the elements, and future assaults. Raven hued tresses chopped off into a rather uneven bowl- shaped haircut, eyes were a vibrant, bright cerulean. Overall, her appearance was nearly grade-A in fooling others.
Heaving a frustrated sigh, Ichidou's gloved hand flew absently to the scuffed hilt of her beloved katana. A present from her friend, or her father, as most knew the man as Gowasu as. Her real family members were rather snotty traders. Hatred for them was abundant with Ichidou; the bastard she knew as her father had eagerly handed her over to a teahouse, for a simple handful of gold coins. The two years that followed the selling were hell for her. Another reason Ichidou faked masculinity; femininity had lost its enjoyable nature for her several years ago.
Pondering random thoughts, Ichidou passed the outer blocks of Kyoto. Several decrepit buildings stacked roughly next to one another, resembling giant wooden blocks some giant child had scattered thoughtlessly about. Weathered signs attached loosely to storefronts, the paint peeling in odd spots. Proclamations proudly stating random nonsense about best prices and rooms for the night. Several shady figures slinking about, peering cautiously at the one police official daring to stride amongst them.
The skies looked rather ominous, blackened clouds heavy with rain rushing in from the mountains. Already Ichidou noticed a thin mist of raindrops plummeting to the earth a good couple of meters ahead. Bracing herself against the freezing precipitation, she broke into a fast-paced jog. Best not to soak oneself to the bone, and catch pneumonia. 'Nearly there, just a mile or so left to go.' A sharp scream rang out in the thick silence, followed by the sickening thud of decapitation. She halted abruptly, shifting directions to flee towards the area she'd pinpointed as the probable murder scene. Ichidou had done nothing to save the victim, but perhaps she could catch the murderer.
The cloaked man peered anxiously at the prone figure of his victim. Scarred hand wrapped tightly about the hilt of the kodachi he'd used. Blood dripping from the polished blade, forming a small pool at his feet. A rather maniacal laugh erupted from his throat, eyes narrowing upon sensing the various citizens and officials approaching. Snorting, he gave the decapitated head a good kick, slipping with ease into the shadows. Several women who had ventured bravely outside to catch sight of the crime screeched, fainting left and right at the scene. The men looked rather sickened, turning slowly to tend to the women. Children sobbing and wailing, one having discovered the detached head. This was the mess Ichidou stumbled upon, her own face paling to an unhealthy degree upon notice of the body. Yet she swallowed the bile arising in her throat, and stepped forward to help volunteer to lift the body from view. What a horrible evening this was turning out to be.
Once finished with the morbid task, she bid farewell to the others of her police company, starting out for her home once more. All those people, all believing they'd seen the worst-case scenario. At least that woman hadn't been mutilated beforehand. Cringing, she buried her hands deeper into the pockets lopsidedly sewn onto her pants. Of that offense, Ichidou was several times convicted. Though her skills had been hired onto the police force, simply because a majority of the volunteered men were naïve and useless with weapons. No one could possibly know what kind of an obstacle course her life had been. Passing by one of the last buildings in town, she took no notice of the young man watching her, a cheery smile spread across his face; the one most recognized him by, as Seta Soujirou.