Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of Rouroni Kenshin, though Aoshi
does come by for tea every once in a while.
***********************************************************
Tears to Quench the Fire
A tall, young man kneeled in a temple. Hands were clasped in his lap. Eyes, obscured by long bangs, closed in meditation. Completely at peace, it would be difficult to believe to those who did not know him personally that he was once crazed with ambition. But here he was, in silent prayer.
Without warning, his steely, turquoise eyes snapped open. His sixth sense was telling him something was wrong. Very wrong. And over the years, he had learned to trust his instincts.
He quickly rose, slipping his shoes back on, the young man dashed through the streets. It was a dry day, so as he ran, a small cloud of dust followed his long strides. Several people on the sides of the streets stared as he half-ran past them. The smell of burning wood was stronger now, making him break into a full run. Others were now running in the same direction as he was: toward the large pillar of smoke, not two blocks away.
He stopped abruptly in front of the burning building. Up close, the flames seemed to reach the azure sky, tainting it with black smoke. He stared with a mix of shock and horror at the sign that hung over the entrance, its letters shimmering in the heat. Aoiya.
A small body hit him in the stomach. When he looked down, his eyes were met by the ones of a girl who looked to be in her middle teens. Tears flowed freely from them. In her arms she clutched two kodachis as if they meant everything to her.
"Ao-ao-aoshi..."she cried. "It's ho-ho-horri-i-ble..."
"Misao, what happened here?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.
"I don't know!" she wailed. "We weren't cooking or nothing!"
"Is everyone okay? Are you hurt at all?"
She shook her head, sending tears flying in different directions. "I'm o-okay, b-but, GRAMPS! Gramps is still in there!" Tears welled up in her eyes once more and she buried her face in his chest.
Aoshi's mind went blank. Gramps, Misao's name for Okina. Trapped in that fire. As an old man with waning health and body, there was almost no way he would be able to get out alone.
"Give me these." And without even waiting for an answer, he took his two kodachis. Hold each one, unsheathed in his hands, Aoshi braced himself and dashed into the inferno.
It was a sea of flames. As he cut through burning walls and doors, Aoshi wished more than anything that he had at least poured water over himself for some form of protection from the blaze. Too late for regrets. Just try to get Okina out of here alive.
By the time he found him, Aoshi had already won several burns for his efforts. Okina was lying face down, unconscious for his back was rising with each feeble breath. The smell of burning flesh reached Aoshi's nose as he grew close. After batting out the fire, creeping up the old man's foot, he lifted up the frail body onto his back. Aoshi turned to face the entrance just in time to see the ceiling fall in.
Outside, Misao let out an anguished sob as she watched helplessly as roof over the front door caved in, sending sparks everywhere and forcing the police who were fruitlessly fighting the fire back. Around her, people were talking:
"That boy who ran in there..."
"There's no way he could have survived that, and even if he did, there's no way he can get out now..."
"Way to speak of the devil."
"Huh...?"
Hair a mess, kodachis in need of a serious fix up, nasty burns playing over arms and hands, Aoshi stumbled out of the Aoiya with Okina on his back.
Misao rushed toward him. "Aoshi!!!?"
Weak kneed from the heat and lack of oxygen, Aoshi hit the ground, Okina slid off his back to lie in the dirt. Misao knelt before him, unsure whether to touch him or not, the burns looked pretty bad.
"Okina..." he breathed heavily, taking in huge gulps of smoke-free air. "I think... he's still... alive..."
For some reason, Misao didn't want to turn the old man over on to his back. Who knows, just something didn't seem right. He was always so full of energy; it was awkward to see him so, so...
With trembling hands, she gently turned him over, as Aoshi was still trying to catch his breath and could help. She stared at him for a split second to take in his condition, and then screamed.
The residents of the Aoiya who were already running toward Aoshi, quickened their pace at Misao's scream.
Okina was dead. But it made no sense. He was alive when Aoshi found him in the burning building, lying down, so it wasn't from breathing in too much smoke, or Aoshi would be dead as well, so...why? The answer was on his chest. A large slash was there, the blood was still slowly flowing from the deep wound, carved out of his flesh with some unknown weapon. His eyes were glazed and a look of surprise still clung to his wrinkled face. Aoshi carefully closed the starring eyes and drew a deep, shuddering breath.
This was no accident. It was arson, and murder.
***********************************************************
Tears to Quench the Fire
A tall, young man kneeled in a temple. Hands were clasped in his lap. Eyes, obscured by long bangs, closed in meditation. Completely at peace, it would be difficult to believe to those who did not know him personally that he was once crazed with ambition. But here he was, in silent prayer.
Without warning, his steely, turquoise eyes snapped open. His sixth sense was telling him something was wrong. Very wrong. And over the years, he had learned to trust his instincts.
He quickly rose, slipping his shoes back on, the young man dashed through the streets. It was a dry day, so as he ran, a small cloud of dust followed his long strides. Several people on the sides of the streets stared as he half-ran past them. The smell of burning wood was stronger now, making him break into a full run. Others were now running in the same direction as he was: toward the large pillar of smoke, not two blocks away.
He stopped abruptly in front of the burning building. Up close, the flames seemed to reach the azure sky, tainting it with black smoke. He stared with a mix of shock and horror at the sign that hung over the entrance, its letters shimmering in the heat. Aoiya.
A small body hit him in the stomach. When he looked down, his eyes were met by the ones of a girl who looked to be in her middle teens. Tears flowed freely from them. In her arms she clutched two kodachis as if they meant everything to her.
"Ao-ao-aoshi..."she cried. "It's ho-ho-horri-i-ble..."
"Misao, what happened here?" he asked, kneeling down in front of her.
"I don't know!" she wailed. "We weren't cooking or nothing!"
"Is everyone okay? Are you hurt at all?"
She shook her head, sending tears flying in different directions. "I'm o-okay, b-but, GRAMPS! Gramps is still in there!" Tears welled up in her eyes once more and she buried her face in his chest.
Aoshi's mind went blank. Gramps, Misao's name for Okina. Trapped in that fire. As an old man with waning health and body, there was almost no way he would be able to get out alone.
"Give me these." And without even waiting for an answer, he took his two kodachis. Hold each one, unsheathed in his hands, Aoshi braced himself and dashed into the inferno.
It was a sea of flames. As he cut through burning walls and doors, Aoshi wished more than anything that he had at least poured water over himself for some form of protection from the blaze. Too late for regrets. Just try to get Okina out of here alive.
By the time he found him, Aoshi had already won several burns for his efforts. Okina was lying face down, unconscious for his back was rising with each feeble breath. The smell of burning flesh reached Aoshi's nose as he grew close. After batting out the fire, creeping up the old man's foot, he lifted up the frail body onto his back. Aoshi turned to face the entrance just in time to see the ceiling fall in.
Outside, Misao let out an anguished sob as she watched helplessly as roof over the front door caved in, sending sparks everywhere and forcing the police who were fruitlessly fighting the fire back. Around her, people were talking:
"That boy who ran in there..."
"There's no way he could have survived that, and even if he did, there's no way he can get out now..."
"Way to speak of the devil."
"Huh...?"
Hair a mess, kodachis in need of a serious fix up, nasty burns playing over arms and hands, Aoshi stumbled out of the Aoiya with Okina on his back.
Misao rushed toward him. "Aoshi!!!?"
Weak kneed from the heat and lack of oxygen, Aoshi hit the ground, Okina slid off his back to lie in the dirt. Misao knelt before him, unsure whether to touch him or not, the burns looked pretty bad.
"Okina..." he breathed heavily, taking in huge gulps of smoke-free air. "I think... he's still... alive..."
For some reason, Misao didn't want to turn the old man over on to his back. Who knows, just something didn't seem right. He was always so full of energy; it was awkward to see him so, so...
With trembling hands, she gently turned him over, as Aoshi was still trying to catch his breath and could help. She stared at him for a split second to take in his condition, and then screamed.
The residents of the Aoiya who were already running toward Aoshi, quickened their pace at Misao's scream.
Okina was dead. But it made no sense. He was alive when Aoshi found him in the burning building, lying down, so it wasn't from breathing in too much smoke, or Aoshi would be dead as well, so...why? The answer was on his chest. A large slash was there, the blood was still slowly flowing from the deep wound, carved out of his flesh with some unknown weapon. His eyes were glazed and a look of surprise still clung to his wrinkled face. Aoshi carefully closed the starring eyes and drew a deep, shuddering breath.
This was no accident. It was arson, and murder.