Jericho Road
Chapter 1: Jericho Road
A/N: Um, hi, I guess. This is my first RK fic, and just to let you guys know, there is NO chronological order. This will be filled with plenty of songfics of the various characters from RK, although it will be centered mostly around Kenshin, and his past/his relationship with Kaoru. You'll see my reason for the title of the fic soon enough.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor do I own Jericho Road by Walter Trout.
Anyway, on with the story and enough of my useless dribble!
{blah} - lyrics
The dirt underneath him made little noise as he walked down the path, a wind blowing his fiery read hair. Silence rang around him on the lonely path.
{On Jericho Road
There ain't no mercy
The cold wind blows
And it cuts you to the bone}
Wind continued to brush past him, and it seemed as if the voices of past people he'd killed. A picture of a face appeared unwillingly in his mind's eye, taunting him of something he could never have.
"Miss Kaoru," he uttered the name of the one woman he cared most about.
{And the clouds in the sky
Are blocking out the sun
On Jericho Road you travel all alone}
He hadn't felt this lonely in a very long time. Not since he had met. . .her, innocent Miss Kaoru with such a large heart that she could forgive a man like him.
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Kenshin Himura shifted his traveling pack slightly and considered walking next to the path. The dust had been kicking up around him from the wind as if making him pay for the time he walked this path over ten years before.
{And the dust beneath your feet
Is clouding up your eyes
And everyone you meet's
A stranger there}
Bowing his head further, he allowed his red bangs to fall around his face and tightened his grip on his bag. Kenshin passed by other travelers who whispered at his dangerous appearance.
{And you turn your eyes away
Because you realize
On Jericho Road nobody cares}
Another bout of loneliness swept over him, but he quickly banished the feeling, berating himself for allowing one such as him, with such bloody and unclean hands, to feel as if he should have company.
His mouth tightened into a thin line, and he continued walking past, curling his arm further into the sleeve of his kimono in an unseen gesture of discomfort.
{I was there but I was so much younger then
I swear I'm never going back again
I still remember everything I left behind}
"Foolish," he thought to himself as he walked, "It was foolish of me to believe that I could never have to travel down this path again, for this one of a past filled with blood."
Hitokiri Battousai. The name was so familiar yet so distant to Kenshin, the rurouni. That title would stay with him until the day he died.
"Miss Kaoru didn't care," a voice said in the back of his mind.
Shaking his head, the traveler knew that he had left that life behind as well. Perhaps, one day, he would go back once he had finally rid his hands of the red stain.
{And I ain't ever going back
Because I know there ain't no mercy down on
Jericho Road
There ain't no mercy
On Jericho Road
There's only broken dreams}
Memories flooded his head as he continued walking down the desolate path, although there were still those who walked past him. If only he had not allowed himself to become so situated at the Kamiya dojo. . .
That would have meant certain death for Miss Kaoru, he realized suddenly, eyes widened behind the curtain of red bangs.
But then, if his past title hadn't been of so much attention. . .
Another shake of his head followed, although very discreet and almost completely inconspicuous to others. And this path only fueled it. . .
{On Jericho Road
Ain't goin' back there no more
On Jericho Road}
Never would he willingly travel this path again, never. Well, if he had anything to say about it.
{And you wonder why you're there
But you can't help feelin'
This is the way it really has to be}
"This is the way it must be," he murmured. "This one cannot allow himself to impose on Miss Kaoru any longer, nor cause more danger and trouble than already."
Yet, a small feeling of regret bubbled up inside of him as he remembered her tears, and his heart clenched at the thought that he had caused them. Another failure to add to the ever growing list-
Kenshin cut his thoughts of there, not willing himself to become ensnared in the ever growing trap of guilt. Perhaps Miss Kaoru would be better off that way, without him, maybe find someone to spend her life with.
Without him.
A cringe and a tighter frown later, Kenshin had stepped off the path, tracking his way through the woods. It was getting a little too close to dusk for his comfort.
{But there ain't no use tryin'
Out on the road to nowhere
You only end up cryin'
And wishin' you were free}
Huddled by a tree, he gazed into the fire, flashes of his life in Tokyo racing through his troubled mind.
Why had he been so foolish as to think he could have peace, for once? Why did he think he could escape his past? Depressing thoughts were cut off as his eyes drooped slightly, and finally he fell into a not-so-blissful sleep.
{I was there but I was so much younger then
I swear I'm never going back again
I still remember everything I left behind
And I ain't ever going back}
His dreams were troubled by memories of when he had walked down this path, still bearing the title of Hitokiri Battousai openly. The smell of blood permeated in his dream, and he awoke with a start, drenched in sweat.
Quickly, desperately, he got up and ran in a random direction, feet breaking twigs everywhere. He didn't care, as long as he found water.
{Because I know there ain't no mercy down on
Jericho Road
There ain't no mercy
On Jericho Road
There's only broken dreams}
His quest was completed as a tiny stream came into view, and he dunked his hands in the water, scrubbing away furiously at the imaginary red liquid that was dried against his hands. Flooding him, more memories came and Kenshin scrubbed harder, nearly turning his skin raw like so many times before. The last time he had done this to himself was before. . . His eyes closed briefly and he scrubbed even harder, rough, calloused skin becoming raw and cracked at the treatment, as if he hoped the water could wash away his memories from his mind.
{On Jericho Road
Ain't goin' back there no more
On Jericho Road
On Jericho Road
On Jericho Road}
"When this one did this the first time he was at Miss Kaoru's dojo," he mused to himself, "She was concerned of what this bloody one was doing to his hands. She stopped him from doing it, and this one never did it again after that, for fear of concerning her farther."
Sighing, Kenshin stopped scrubbing and took his hands out of the water, placing them in his lap as if she was there to berate him for hurting himself.
"Perhaps the smell and blood of death on the road is more in this one's mind, that it is. And perhaps this-no, I," he smiled, thinking of when the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin style had bashed him over the head with her bokken whenever he said, "this one," "Will return to Miss Kaoru soon, so that th-I may show her these clean hands."
He got up and walked away, hands curling up instinctively into his kimono, although the look of distress he had had on last time he had done it had given way to not one of his rurouni smiles, but a small, gentle smile that shone behind his amethyst eyes.
{On Jericho Road. . .}
Chapter 1: Jericho Road
A/N: Um, hi, I guess. This is my first RK fic, and just to let you guys know, there is NO chronological order. This will be filled with plenty of songfics of the various characters from RK, although it will be centered mostly around Kenshin, and his past/his relationship with Kaoru. You'll see my reason for the title of the fic soon enough.
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor do I own Jericho Road by Walter Trout.
Anyway, on with the story and enough of my useless dribble!
{blah} - lyrics
The dirt underneath him made little noise as he walked down the path, a wind blowing his fiery read hair. Silence rang around him on the lonely path.
{On Jericho Road
There ain't no mercy
The cold wind blows
And it cuts you to the bone}
Wind continued to brush past him, and it seemed as if the voices of past people he'd killed. A picture of a face appeared unwillingly in his mind's eye, taunting him of something he could never have.
"Miss Kaoru," he uttered the name of the one woman he cared most about.
{And the clouds in the sky
Are blocking out the sun
On Jericho Road you travel all alone}
He hadn't felt this lonely in a very long time. Not since he had met. . .her, innocent Miss Kaoru with such a large heart that she could forgive a man like him.
Shaking his head to clear the thoughts, Kenshin Himura shifted his traveling pack slightly and considered walking next to the path. The dust had been kicking up around him from the wind as if making him pay for the time he walked this path over ten years before.
{And the dust beneath your feet
Is clouding up your eyes
And everyone you meet's
A stranger there}
Bowing his head further, he allowed his red bangs to fall around his face and tightened his grip on his bag. Kenshin passed by other travelers who whispered at his dangerous appearance.
{And you turn your eyes away
Because you realize
On Jericho Road nobody cares}
Another bout of loneliness swept over him, but he quickly banished the feeling, berating himself for allowing one such as him, with such bloody and unclean hands, to feel as if he should have company.
His mouth tightened into a thin line, and he continued walking past, curling his arm further into the sleeve of his kimono in an unseen gesture of discomfort.
{I was there but I was so much younger then
I swear I'm never going back again
I still remember everything I left behind}
"Foolish," he thought to himself as he walked, "It was foolish of me to believe that I could never have to travel down this path again, for this one of a past filled with blood."
Hitokiri Battousai. The name was so familiar yet so distant to Kenshin, the rurouni. That title would stay with him until the day he died.
"Miss Kaoru didn't care," a voice said in the back of his mind.
Shaking his head, the traveler knew that he had left that life behind as well. Perhaps, one day, he would go back once he had finally rid his hands of the red stain.
{And I ain't ever going back
Because I know there ain't no mercy down on
Jericho Road
There ain't no mercy
On Jericho Road
There's only broken dreams}
Memories flooded his head as he continued walking down the desolate path, although there were still those who walked past him. If only he had not allowed himself to become so situated at the Kamiya dojo. . .
That would have meant certain death for Miss Kaoru, he realized suddenly, eyes widened behind the curtain of red bangs.
But then, if his past title hadn't been of so much attention. . .
Another shake of his head followed, although very discreet and almost completely inconspicuous to others. And this path only fueled it. . .
{On Jericho Road
Ain't goin' back there no more
On Jericho Road}
Never would he willingly travel this path again, never. Well, if he had anything to say about it.
{And you wonder why you're there
But you can't help feelin'
This is the way it really has to be}
"This is the way it must be," he murmured. "This one cannot allow himself to impose on Miss Kaoru any longer, nor cause more danger and trouble than already."
Yet, a small feeling of regret bubbled up inside of him as he remembered her tears, and his heart clenched at the thought that he had caused them. Another failure to add to the ever growing list-
Kenshin cut his thoughts of there, not willing himself to become ensnared in the ever growing trap of guilt. Perhaps Miss Kaoru would be better off that way, without him, maybe find someone to spend her life with.
Without him.
A cringe and a tighter frown later, Kenshin had stepped off the path, tracking his way through the woods. It was getting a little too close to dusk for his comfort.
{But there ain't no use tryin'
Out on the road to nowhere
You only end up cryin'
And wishin' you were free}
Huddled by a tree, he gazed into the fire, flashes of his life in Tokyo racing through his troubled mind.
Why had he been so foolish as to think he could have peace, for once? Why did he think he could escape his past? Depressing thoughts were cut off as his eyes drooped slightly, and finally he fell into a not-so-blissful sleep.
{I was there but I was so much younger then
I swear I'm never going back again
I still remember everything I left behind
And I ain't ever going back}
His dreams were troubled by memories of when he had walked down this path, still bearing the title of Hitokiri Battousai openly. The smell of blood permeated in his dream, and he awoke with a start, drenched in sweat.
Quickly, desperately, he got up and ran in a random direction, feet breaking twigs everywhere. He didn't care, as long as he found water.
{Because I know there ain't no mercy down on
Jericho Road
There ain't no mercy
On Jericho Road
There's only broken dreams}
His quest was completed as a tiny stream came into view, and he dunked his hands in the water, scrubbing away furiously at the imaginary red liquid that was dried against his hands. Flooding him, more memories came and Kenshin scrubbed harder, nearly turning his skin raw like so many times before. The last time he had done this to himself was before. . . His eyes closed briefly and he scrubbed even harder, rough, calloused skin becoming raw and cracked at the treatment, as if he hoped the water could wash away his memories from his mind.
{On Jericho Road
Ain't goin' back there no more
On Jericho Road
On Jericho Road
On Jericho Road}
"When this one did this the first time he was at Miss Kaoru's dojo," he mused to himself, "She was concerned of what this bloody one was doing to his hands. She stopped him from doing it, and this one never did it again after that, for fear of concerning her farther."
Sighing, Kenshin stopped scrubbing and took his hands out of the water, placing them in his lap as if she was there to berate him for hurting himself.
"Perhaps the smell and blood of death on the road is more in this one's mind, that it is. And perhaps this-no, I," he smiled, thinking of when the assistant master of the Kamiya Kasshin style had bashed him over the head with her bokken whenever he said, "this one," "Will return to Miss Kaoru soon, so that th-I may show her these clean hands."
He got up and walked away, hands curling up instinctively into his kimono, although the look of distress he had had on last time he had done it had given way to not one of his rurouni smiles, but a small, gentle smile that shone behind his amethyst eyes.
{On Jericho Road. . .}