Hi! I've finally got an idea where i'm going with this story now, but you
can still request things and i might use them. Also, i wrote a poem about
enishi right after reading the revenge arc a few days ago that you might
want to check out if you're into poetry. It's called 'crying, cringing
child.'
History Behind the History, chapter 7
There had been frustratingly little information available to Akitaka when he'd researched Battousai before, but the strange little redhead was the only thing of historical significance he could imagine writing five pages about without also imagining hanging himself, and he hoped this new tidbit about his name would help. He scanned through the various links that lined themselves up and stood at attention across the screen, waiting for him to choose one to serve him with information. Beneath one of the underlined blue website titles, there appeared the words "... Himura Battousai was apparently not intended to be remembered as a hero or anything of that nature, really never to be remembered at all..."
Akitaka clicked on the highlighted text to bring up more of this article, since it offered more insight than he had yet seen on the subject of this Himura guy. A rather long piece of prose appeared, but the gist was that Battousai was never meant to inspire fear or intimidate because of his reputation- good thing, since that would inspire something more like laughter when they saw him in person- but was more like a secret weapon, not generally seen by any who would live to tell the tale. A spy had put an end to that, however, and he had become known.
How odd. Of course, samurai were not generally supposed to act for personal glory, but still... it amazed him how someone so ruthless could also be selfless. Even though his actions were undeniably wrong, they did seem in a way well-intended. To kill for peace... this man must have been very confused at times and had lots of conflicting emotions. What had this peace-loving killer done after the war ended? Had he even survived that long? Would he have continued killing in an effort to maintain the peace he cared so much about? Wouldn't that kind of... defeat the purpose... or something?
Maybe he hadn't done that. Maybe he'd stopped when he didn't feel it was necessary anymore, or even totally repented of ever doing it in the first place. Akitaka had thought there would be no telling which of these was the truth, but with this new information about his name, maybe there was a way to find out. That would have to wait, though, as someone was currently screaming commands to get off the internet now or face the consequences.
Akitaka pushed back from the desk and watched the screen go black as his sister dialed a number elsewhere in the house. He walked a short distance to his room, flipped on the light, and haphazardly threw his thin, lanky body onto his bed. He changed his mind and turned the light back off, just to lie there in the dark. This was more conducive to deep thought.
He thought more about this new perspective he had encountered today. Had it been Battousai's express wish not to be remembered? Was he just that private sort of person who didn't like the idea of strangers knowing things about him or was there a more practical reason he had not been recognized even after the war ended. It would be disrespectful of the dead to continue researching his life i he didn't want it known, but there was really no guarantee that was his wish and not someone else's.
What had the Ishin Shishi done when Battousai had been betrayed? There was no indication of when this whole spy ting happened, but it would have to have been early enough in the war to make a difference or the spy wouldn't have bothered. So had they fired him to hire an unknown? Had they simply given up on the idea of a secret assassin and allowed him to work openly? They might have simply let him continue and tried to make use of his fearsome reputation.
The most annoying thing about having a ravenous interest in something was that one could never answer all the questions. The more Akitaka learned, the more he realized he didn't know. He was sick of thinking about it for today. There were too many questions buzzing about his brain, so he just closed his eyes, breathed deeply to get rid of the stress, and slept.
* *
*
In a house in the middle of nowhere, one very guilty assassin stared at a book that would be meaningless now to all but only two people in the entire world. The other person would not glimpse it for many years, and possibly did not yet know it existed. Right now, he was the only person who would care to read the diary of his dead wife.
It had taken some doing to convince himself to read it, but he thought it would be a shame to just let her thoughts fade into oblivion. She had guarded her diary fiercely when she was alive, but he felt sure she would not have minded his reading it now. There were those noble ideas about preserving her memory, but really, he just wanted to feel close to her. He wanted to relive the time he had known her, which was recorded in this book and would allow him to briefly feel like she was there again. If he took a bit of time to read her diary, maybe he could delay the inevitable and she wouldn't be gone just yet.
These had been his thoughts when he'd sat there not knowing what he held in his hands, and now as he sat there after acquiring that knowledge, he understood her better than he ever had while she'd lived. If he had known all the things right there in that book a few days ago, a beautiful woman might still be waiting for him, alive, in another part of the house. She might be simply out for awhile and not dead, or she might be away on a trip to visit a friend. Better yet, she might be sitting here beside him right now in front of this fire that somehow gave no heat any longer without her presence.
He was just thinking of throwing the diary on the fire when someone walked in and, thankfully, distracted him. He didn't turn around, because the person obviously wasn't hostile and he didn't need to move to defend himself. He could probably have read the person's ki to determine who it was, but didn't bother. He wasn't in the mood for company and didn't feel like looking away from the fireplace.
"Himura," said a familiar voice that rang with the polite sympathy you express when you are talking to someone who was closer to the deceased than you were. Kenshin didn't respond. "We caught the spy. Everything relevant about you... they know everything. We've already gotten a new hitokiri to work secretly. We have to have someone no one knows, you understand."
So now I'm damaged goods, hm? Of course, that's not it, but it sure feels like rejection. "I understand," was all he answered.
"Good. I'm going to need you to work harder than ever now that we've been set back like this. Dirty business, spying. The traitor."
Spying is dirty business, but what do you call my job? "I thought you were firing me," he replied. Secretly hoped is more like it. I want this to be over.
"No, no, not at all. Just adapt, is all. Heave to learn to adapt to any situation. Adapt, my boy, adapt!" The older man affirmed, pounding the teenager's back. He submitted without taking any comfort whatsoever in the gesture that was surely meant affectionately.
"Adapt," he repeated dumbly. He was only absorbing the basics- he was not fired, the spy had been caught. None of it seemed important in the wake of a tragic death, but he knew in the back of his mind somewhere that this information would be needed later, so he reluctantly listened.
"Well, best be on my way, son, got more news to deliver. Be well, Himura," the officer bowed and left.
That man had not cared one whit that an innocent woman was dead. As long as his prized possession was willing to work, he didn't care. It was not, however, his job to care. It was his job to see that certain others killed as many of the other side as possible. This was not the first time Kenshin had been disgusted with his occupation, but it was that first time he even sort of saw a clear alternative. In that moment, he knew he would never take another human life after the war was over. He also knew that he really should stop now, but didn't understand how he could do that with the war and the corrupt government still in place. There had to be a better way, but what was it? Even if it was wrong, didn't he have an obligation to at least do something? Wasn't a shot in the dark better than no shot at all?
*************************************************************
you may ask me 'why is this just now happening when tomoe died like, 4 chapters ago?' my answer to this would be that the flashbacks are not in chronological order, but are paired with the scene from Akitaka's life that they most parallel. just thought i'd avoid questions on that.
Hitokiri-san: really? i can't imagine being around that many math-lovers, everybody i know hates it and i love it. i'm really into the arts too but i'm into just about everything. if the guy walking with kenshin was too convenient i'm sorry. i just thought he needed someone to sort of externalize his feelings with and to try to convince him he's not some disgusting snake or something nobody wants to be near.
Dreammaster 2411: thank you for you compliments and your suggestion. you are right, i wasn't planning on doing anything after the war in this fic, but i may change my mind.
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: its ok about the kawaii thing i just wasn't sure what you meant. anyway as you may know i update on tuesdays.
History Behind the History, chapter 7
There had been frustratingly little information available to Akitaka when he'd researched Battousai before, but the strange little redhead was the only thing of historical significance he could imagine writing five pages about without also imagining hanging himself, and he hoped this new tidbit about his name would help. He scanned through the various links that lined themselves up and stood at attention across the screen, waiting for him to choose one to serve him with information. Beneath one of the underlined blue website titles, there appeared the words "... Himura Battousai was apparently not intended to be remembered as a hero or anything of that nature, really never to be remembered at all..."
Akitaka clicked on the highlighted text to bring up more of this article, since it offered more insight than he had yet seen on the subject of this Himura guy. A rather long piece of prose appeared, but the gist was that Battousai was never meant to inspire fear or intimidate because of his reputation- good thing, since that would inspire something more like laughter when they saw him in person- but was more like a secret weapon, not generally seen by any who would live to tell the tale. A spy had put an end to that, however, and he had become known.
How odd. Of course, samurai were not generally supposed to act for personal glory, but still... it amazed him how someone so ruthless could also be selfless. Even though his actions were undeniably wrong, they did seem in a way well-intended. To kill for peace... this man must have been very confused at times and had lots of conflicting emotions. What had this peace-loving killer done after the war ended? Had he even survived that long? Would he have continued killing in an effort to maintain the peace he cared so much about? Wouldn't that kind of... defeat the purpose... or something?
Maybe he hadn't done that. Maybe he'd stopped when he didn't feel it was necessary anymore, or even totally repented of ever doing it in the first place. Akitaka had thought there would be no telling which of these was the truth, but with this new information about his name, maybe there was a way to find out. That would have to wait, though, as someone was currently screaming commands to get off the internet now or face the consequences.
Akitaka pushed back from the desk and watched the screen go black as his sister dialed a number elsewhere in the house. He walked a short distance to his room, flipped on the light, and haphazardly threw his thin, lanky body onto his bed. He changed his mind and turned the light back off, just to lie there in the dark. This was more conducive to deep thought.
He thought more about this new perspective he had encountered today. Had it been Battousai's express wish not to be remembered? Was he just that private sort of person who didn't like the idea of strangers knowing things about him or was there a more practical reason he had not been recognized even after the war ended. It would be disrespectful of the dead to continue researching his life i he didn't want it known, but there was really no guarantee that was his wish and not someone else's.
What had the Ishin Shishi done when Battousai had been betrayed? There was no indication of when this whole spy ting happened, but it would have to have been early enough in the war to make a difference or the spy wouldn't have bothered. So had they fired him to hire an unknown? Had they simply given up on the idea of a secret assassin and allowed him to work openly? They might have simply let him continue and tried to make use of his fearsome reputation.
The most annoying thing about having a ravenous interest in something was that one could never answer all the questions. The more Akitaka learned, the more he realized he didn't know. He was sick of thinking about it for today. There were too many questions buzzing about his brain, so he just closed his eyes, breathed deeply to get rid of the stress, and slept.
* *
*
In a house in the middle of nowhere, one very guilty assassin stared at a book that would be meaningless now to all but only two people in the entire world. The other person would not glimpse it for many years, and possibly did not yet know it existed. Right now, he was the only person who would care to read the diary of his dead wife.
It had taken some doing to convince himself to read it, but he thought it would be a shame to just let her thoughts fade into oblivion. She had guarded her diary fiercely when she was alive, but he felt sure she would not have minded his reading it now. There were those noble ideas about preserving her memory, but really, he just wanted to feel close to her. He wanted to relive the time he had known her, which was recorded in this book and would allow him to briefly feel like she was there again. If he took a bit of time to read her diary, maybe he could delay the inevitable and she wouldn't be gone just yet.
These had been his thoughts when he'd sat there not knowing what he held in his hands, and now as he sat there after acquiring that knowledge, he understood her better than he ever had while she'd lived. If he had known all the things right there in that book a few days ago, a beautiful woman might still be waiting for him, alive, in another part of the house. She might be simply out for awhile and not dead, or she might be away on a trip to visit a friend. Better yet, she might be sitting here beside him right now in front of this fire that somehow gave no heat any longer without her presence.
He was just thinking of throwing the diary on the fire when someone walked in and, thankfully, distracted him. He didn't turn around, because the person obviously wasn't hostile and he didn't need to move to defend himself. He could probably have read the person's ki to determine who it was, but didn't bother. He wasn't in the mood for company and didn't feel like looking away from the fireplace.
"Himura," said a familiar voice that rang with the polite sympathy you express when you are talking to someone who was closer to the deceased than you were. Kenshin didn't respond. "We caught the spy. Everything relevant about you... they know everything. We've already gotten a new hitokiri to work secretly. We have to have someone no one knows, you understand."
So now I'm damaged goods, hm? Of course, that's not it, but it sure feels like rejection. "I understand," was all he answered.
"Good. I'm going to need you to work harder than ever now that we've been set back like this. Dirty business, spying. The traitor."
Spying is dirty business, but what do you call my job? "I thought you were firing me," he replied. Secretly hoped is more like it. I want this to be over.
"No, no, not at all. Just adapt, is all. Heave to learn to adapt to any situation. Adapt, my boy, adapt!" The older man affirmed, pounding the teenager's back. He submitted without taking any comfort whatsoever in the gesture that was surely meant affectionately.
"Adapt," he repeated dumbly. He was only absorbing the basics- he was not fired, the spy had been caught. None of it seemed important in the wake of a tragic death, but he knew in the back of his mind somewhere that this information would be needed later, so he reluctantly listened.
"Well, best be on my way, son, got more news to deliver. Be well, Himura," the officer bowed and left.
That man had not cared one whit that an innocent woman was dead. As long as his prized possession was willing to work, he didn't care. It was not, however, his job to care. It was his job to see that certain others killed as many of the other side as possible. This was not the first time Kenshin had been disgusted with his occupation, but it was that first time he even sort of saw a clear alternative. In that moment, he knew he would never take another human life after the war was over. He also knew that he really should stop now, but didn't understand how he could do that with the war and the corrupt government still in place. There had to be a better way, but what was it? Even if it was wrong, didn't he have an obligation to at least do something? Wasn't a shot in the dark better than no shot at all?
*************************************************************
you may ask me 'why is this just now happening when tomoe died like, 4 chapters ago?' my answer to this would be that the flashbacks are not in chronological order, but are paired with the scene from Akitaka's life that they most parallel. just thought i'd avoid questions on that.
Hitokiri-san: really? i can't imagine being around that many math-lovers, everybody i know hates it and i love it. i'm really into the arts too but i'm into just about everything. if the guy walking with kenshin was too convenient i'm sorry. i just thought he needed someone to sort of externalize his feelings with and to try to convince him he's not some disgusting snake or something nobody wants to be near.
Dreammaster 2411: thank you for you compliments and your suggestion. you are right, i wasn't planning on doing anything after the war in this fic, but i may change my mind.
Yuhi-thedoerofevildeeds: its ok about the kawaii thing i just wasn't sure what you meant. anyway as you may know i update on tuesdays.