There was a hasty addition to Kenshin's step as he walked away from the village. It wasn't as if he feared the killers who were after him, he just feared for the safety of the people in the village. If he was forced to defend himself, he didn't want anybody else getting involved. After all, the one who nearly poisoned him might not be so precise the next time, nor the man in black so merciful. He had to distance himself from human contact for awhile, but he was used to being in solitude, since he was a wanderer.

As Kenshin walked away from the town, he began to think. The people who were after him were not ordinary assassins, and they didn't always rely on elaborate methods to slay their targets. The man in black had taunted Kenshin psychologically by deliberately telling him that he was now hunted, thus keeping the wanderer's guard up all through the exhausting day. The poisoned tea example, while ineffective at first, proved that Kenshin could not even trust the stuff that kept him alive and refreshed. His only real solace was the thought that only two men were after him, but this would soon be broken.

3: Hunted By Three--Kenshin's Unlucky Meeting!

As Kenshin walked through the countryside, he began to consider why the two killers were after him. They most likely had no personal vendetta against him, and if circumstances were different, they might have even passed as friends. No, somebody else wanted him dead--probably for what he did during the Revolution. Kenshin understood that sometimes the past was hard to let go of (especially considering that only three years of peace had passed, and a few people didn't even know about the decree yet), but he didn't understand why his death would justify anything. Vengeance brought nothing but more blood for the earth to soak up, sewing the seeds of even more hatred.

As frivolous as the idea was, the only thing that really mattered was his own survival. There was probably little chance of him negotiating with the killers, especially since they both seemed to prefer stealth, and he feared having to break his code of no killing already. The only thing he could do was move forward and take things as they came.

Fittingly enough, a well-sized boar crossed his path just then as he wandered down the road, snorting softly and sniffing for mushrooms. He smiled and watched it for awhile as he rested from walking, content to wait for it to pass rather than disturb it. Suddenly, to his astonishment, the porker took a few more shuffling steps forward and vanished! Kenshin was surprised and investigated the area carefully, first from a distance and then at close range, and found that the boar had fallen into a hole. The hole was not very deep, but a gruesome fate awaited those that fell in, for several long spikes were adorned at the bottom. Kenshin looked away from the impaled boar in disgust.

"What a terrible thing to do," he mused quietly. "This was not a trap set to catch boars, though; this is out in the open, where anybody can walk into it. But why would anybody want to do something so terrible, especially if a child came across this?"

"That trap was not meant for a child," came a sudden voice from above. Kenshin looked up and saw a very tall, muscular man looming over him, a stern look in his older face and a flame in his eyes. He looked like a woodsman, including the green cape, but he had a very large sword that was a design Kenshin had never seen before.

"What's that?" said Kenshin as he looked at the stranger. "Are you saying that you know who this trap was designed for?" The stranger nodded his head slowly.

"Yes. It was designed for the Hitokiri Battousai, the one called Himura." Kenshin's eyes glazed over briefly with a dark sparkle, and his face became hard and focused as he stared back at the man.

"How would you know all that?"

"I wasn't the one who constructed the trap if that's what you're asking," said the man with a shrug. He grunted, and tilted his head to the other side as he glanced at Kenshin's face. His eyebrow raised as he seemed to recognize something. "Ah, I see that you're the man I've been looking for. Well, now that I see you, I don't see how I could've missed you in the first place. You stand out quite a bit, little Kenshin."

Kenshin couldn't help but grimace in comical confusion as the man called him "little".

"Augh… so you know who I am?"

"I do."

"And you say this trap was meant for me?"

"It was. It's useless now, of course."

"I see. And do you know who put it there?" The man nodded his head.

"Sort of. He's a very tricky person. He's keeping his identity secret from you in order to better execute you. Unlike a few others I know of, he doesn't take a thrill in the fact that you know his identity; it's the other way around."

"And how did you come about all this information?" demanded Kenshin, almost spitting out his words. The large swordsman rubbed the area underneath his nose and sniffled up something.

"Kenshin Himura, I know it because I am one of the three men who have been hired to kill you."

"Huh?" whispered he, his eyes widening and his pulse chilling. "Did you say three?"

"Yes, there are three," replied the large one, "though odds are, I'm probably the only one you met. I don't even know exactly when it was that you learned you were a target for assassination, though I doubt it was just now."

"No…" he murmured, his hand tickling the hilt of his blade and his violet eyes locked straight onto the large man. "I escaped death twice today earlier, once when I discovered my drink was poisoned and another when a man in black made his introductions."

"That appears to be all three," he muttered, nodding his head. "You must know the man in black, then. I am Rygar the Red, though I'm sure the name means nothing to you. You can just think of me as an Anglo-Saxon version of yourself, except about twenty-five years older." The man called Rygar became quiet suddenly, allowing Kenshin to register everything he had heard. Once he was satisfied, he spoke again.

"I think I understand everything except one thing. Why are you telling me all this? Is it more psychological attacks?"

"No, I don't work that way," muttered Rygar. "Besides, what good would it do? You already know you're being pursued; what more will one more reminder do for you? As for myself, I'm only doing the polite thing and answering your questions, or at least those I choose to answer."

"Then do you know why I am a target for assassination?" asked the former killer, desperate for answers. There was still a chance that his theory could be wrong…

"Lately," sighed Rygar, looking more weary than he was before, "I've become a more moral person; a person with stronger morals, I mean. I've tried to make it a habit of mine to ask why I am going after somebody, so I don't kill without knowing why. I know what you did for the Imperialists, and how you overthrew the shogun's feudal system and replaced it with this new order, and I have nothing against that. The world needs to change, or else kowtow to those in power.

"It appears, though, that in the process of being a slayer of men, you have inadvertently killed several people of very high reverence. Their survivors asked myself and two other assassins that have no affiliation with me to avenge the deaths of their loved ones. Bear in mind, former Battousai, it is not just those clinging to the past who hate you. Many good men died in that revolution, leaving their families behind with nothing to stand on. They are considered the equivalent of flies, Kenshin, these remnants of the people you killed, and while revenge may be wrong, it will console them a little. I understand how they feel."

Absolute silence.

"…I see…" murmured Kenshin, after a very long and quiet pause. There was no need to say anything else; Rygar had said it all. It was deep and even profound enough on its own; Kenshin didn't need to add anything else to it. "I suppose that people have the right to prosecute me for what I did, even though I performed my duties without objection or favor. My purpose was pure, though I do not deny that I once slaughtered without mercy so that this purity I claim could be achieved."

"I'm glad you understand, former killer of men," said Rygar with a nod. "As I do not like to be uninformed, I don't think you would much like it if people came after you without you knowing why. With that said, I have one more warning to show you." And just as he demonstrated a portion of his strength for another samurai just a few moments before, Rygar effortlessly split a large and powerful tree into three parts, amazing Kenshin considerably.

"The next time you see me," he said as the dust and leaves settled, "I will do that to you. Of course, by that time, the other two assassins will have failed. I don't wish to fight you, Kenshin, because I above everybody else can understand your Battousai mind. You and I are very much alike, my boy--I could even be called your father, in a sense. But I have my job and now I have my reasons. I hope we never meet again, wandering samurai, because then it will be for your grievous destruction."

And without another word said, at least from his mouth, the feared man known as Rygar the Red kept on walking in the direction Kenshin had come from, slowly but surely putting a greater distance between himself and the smaller, younger man. Kenshin didn't bother to stop him; he was simply frozen there as he absorbed everything the stranger had told him, from the triad of killers who were after him to the reason why he was being hunted, and especially the very last part, about empathizing with him.

Kenshin slowly came back to life and walked forward, at a much slower pace than usual (considering that two more killers were still after him). He stepped over the tree, taking notice of how precise the cut had been, and continued on his way. He was certainly not sure what he would be doing next, though finding somebody to help him stay alive would become a big priority. Unbeknownst to him, however, that "somebody" would come to him sooner than he would believe, in the form of the best and most skilled person to have for a situation such as his.

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His sandals making fast tracks in the dirt, Samurai Jack ran from place to place, looking for the man with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek and asking everybody he found about the man's whereabouts. His darkest dread was contemplating if the man had already met his end and had been forced off the mortal coil in the most barbaric method possible…