Crimson Tears
Chapter 11: Weary
He was so fatigued. The mere idea of opening his eyes weighed heavily on his taxed body. He wasn't tired physically, but mentally he couldn't recall a time of more exhaustion.
His arms tightened instinctually around the warm body resting so comfortably in his lap. He would ignore the way her hips were rubbing against his inner thighs and groin. He would control himself with the admirable discipline he prized himself upon.
This slip of a woman was not going to cause his intense control to crack.
Kaoru's face nuzzled against the center of his chest and surprised him with her next action. He felt her soft, pedal like lips gently caress him through his thin button up shirt right over his heart.
Inquisitive sapphire eyes looked up into his arctic pools. Aoshi raised an ebon brow at her antics. He would not give her the satisfaction of knowing how her actions chilled him to the core. Never had anyone taken such liberties on his person and never would he have allowed it previously.
"Did you just kiss my shirt?" Aoshi teased softly, before casting a quick glance towards their silent patients. He returned his gaze back to the young woman who wasn't so much as blushing, but was looking at him with a look of great intensity. "Yes?"
Kaoru shifted out of his lap and moved to sit beside him, keeping her legs curled against him, but no longer causing reactions he'd like to keep to himself by creating the distance. "Will you tell me now how you became so scarred?"
Aoshi kept his face akin to that of a marble statue, revealing none of the emotions threatening to overwhelm him. Kaoru looked away from him during his silence. "You don't have to tell me, I understand." Kaoru told him quietly.
His shoulders slackened and Aoshi rested his head against the back of his chair, looking at the high ceiling before answering. "When I was a teenager, I had four great friends. We did everything together and were the best of friends. I lost them in a great tragedy and have ever since then felt guilty about having lived while they all died."
Kaoru turned back to him and searched his face as he grew silent and reflective. She raised her hand to his cheek and felt the stubble that had begun to grow. It had been a day or two since he had last shaved and the shadow seemed foreign to his over all perfection. She forced him to look down at her. "Never feel guilty for being a survivor."
Aoshi offered a chilling smile as he raised his hand to rest on the back of hers that still rested against his cheek. "This advice is coming from the woman who feels guilty herself for being just that."
She had the decency to blush at that comment. "I suppose this is a case of the pot calling the kettle black. Do continue with your story though." Kaoru encouraged.
"I lost my drive to live. I became involved with some shady activities. I think I wanted to die," Aoshi released her hand and starred vacantly at the prone figures of Misao and Soujiro. Kaoru's hand remained firmly in place upon his cheek and he found himself leaning into it subconsciously.
"Saito was in California at the time, this was maybe eleven years ago. We ran into one another on a street in the late night hours. I challenged him to a fight, as I challenged anyone and everyone who I thought might be capable of rivaling me in fighting skills." Aoshi raised his hands to unbutton the top few buttons of his shirt and reveal his scarred chest. "These are my souvenirs from those encounters."
Kaoru gasped at the sight of the raised flesh, so stark white against the tan of his skin. Her hand fell from his unshaven face to rest upon the broad expanse of his chest, absently fingering his old wounds.
"I won't say that Saito beat me physically, but mentally he whipped me soundly. He made me realize the folly of my chosen path and gave me an opportunity. He knew a couple of guys that would be willing to give me a chance." Aoshi drew his gaze from their silent companions and watched as Kaoru traced the unnatural patterns upon his chest.
She sensed his silence and looked up at him. "So, I got involved with the force and I've been working ever since." Aoshi smiled ruefully. "I must admit, it is much more rewarding saving lives and stopping needless deaths than it is bleeding everywhere."
Kaoru drew her hand away from his bared skin and readjusted her position once more. She brought her legs onto either side of him and straddled his waist. By his sharp intake of air she realized what she was doing to him but that didn't matter at the moment. She felt safe with him and wanted him to feel the same overwhelming security.
She wrapped both arms around his neck loosely and met his eyes as they closed partly and a shiver seemed to travel down his frame. Kaoru drew closer and his eyes closed all the way, he was expecting her to kiss him, she would, but not how he expected.
Aoshi's eyes snapped open in annoyance when instead of kissing his lips the vixen began to kiss the scattered array of scars along his exposed chest. It might have felt good, but Aoshi Shinomori was not one to fall prey to a woman's antics. "What are you doing?" He asked softly, forcing himself to ignore the rush of blood traveling south.
Kaoru paused and looked up at him, a blush staining her cheeks as if she just now realized what she was doing. "I---uh---,"she stammered before looking away in embarrassment.
He reached for her chin and forced her to look at him once again. He offered a small smile to ease her. "Kissing it won't make them go away."
A seductive grin lit up her features as she kissed him quickly upon his lips, it was just a brief brush of her lips to his, but the result was electrifying. She drew back. "A kiss may not make the pain go away, but perhaps it would help you to forget."
Aoshi was about to argue that what she gave him hardly constituted as a kiss, but a moan seemed to come from Soujiro reminding him of their audience. He locked his arms tightly around Kaoru's back and pulled her flush against him and rubbed his rough cheek against her smooth one.
His lips brushed her ear as he spoke, "I will need a much larger dose of kisses to make me forget the pain I've been through."
oooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooo
He stalked her down the hallway. He stalked as a hungry tiger approaches the grazing gazelle. The gazelle was completely clueless that this patch of grass would be her last. This was her last meal. These were her final moments.
It was almost too easy this one.
He never enjoyed this part of his existence, but as he discovered years ago, it was pointless to resist. It only resulted in great headaches for him. Besides, happily, he would forget all his sins as soon as he left the scene of the crime.
That was the best part of the curse.
He would walk around innocently during the day, ninety percent of his waking hours. Only moments before his next kill would he remember with startling clarity. But, by then it was too late. The man he was ninety percent of the time no longer existed.
Only the Battousai existed at these moments.
Only the hunter and his prey existed.
A flash of his previous life, or perhaps the life before that came to mind. He could remember this one rushing in front of his blade and piercing her heart unintentionally. He remembered learning the truth later on that she had originally sought him in vengeance and was a spy.
Something about him caused her to fall in love with him. He was but a teenaged boy, but he had foolishly believed she loved him. She grew to love him, or at least pity him. Perhaps it was their mutual sorrow that drew them together and hope is what drew them apart.
Her death those years ago had meant the death of the Battousai.
Funny that now she would be reduced to merely another casualty to the Battousai's ever growing list of victims.
He walked in the shadows. She paused outside her door. He had heard her brother leave her reluctantly minutes before. Now she in her wheel chair, waited outside her room and was unlocking the door.
He shook his head, red hair flying from side to side in the process as he stalked closer to his prey. There was no need to bother unlocking the door when she was only to die outside in the hallway.
Only this time, her death would not be the emotional event that shattered the blood lust of the Battousai. No, this time she would merely serve as fodder.
His blade drew from the scarlet sheath that housed it. The metal slid out soundlessly, the sharp blade hungered to be feed the helpless blood of the gazelle.
Like a deer in headlights she turned to face him at the last moments of her life. Her dark, sorrowful eyes grew wide in fear but then a look of acceptance seemed to flash through them.
The Battousai almost paused to reflect upon the odd emotions she had sent. Fear, yes, he understood that. But, sorrowful acceptance was not something he encountered.
No matter.
Her end was swift and precise. His blade sliced between her fourth and fifth rib into her left ventricle. That chamber of her heart was utterly destroyed and he watched fascinated as the blood poured uselessly out of the gaping wound and stained the white of her gown.
A quick flick of his wrist and the blood upon his blade was sent flying towards the wall and splattering a grotesque design for others to see later. He could feel the prickle of tears behind his eye lids that often accompanied his murders, but as usual, no tears came.
It was as if someone else would cry for him. Someone else would bear his guilty burden for as he walked away and returned to the shadows the memory of his crime was already vanishing as it always did.
oooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooo
Kenshin stumbled into his room completely zonked. It had been a long day and he couldn't even remember why he was awake at the moment. He wondered who could have knocked out both Soujiro and Misao so expertly.
It had to have been someone of great power, finesse, and skill.
A wry smile crossed his lips. He'd like to meet someone of that caliber.
He fell onto his bed and closed his eyes as he sighed deeply, trying to relieve himself of the stress he felt. He was overly angry about Kaoru's relationship with Aoshi. He knew he had no reason to feel jealous over their being engaged.
However, no matter how much his mind kept stating this, his heart refused to believe it.
"Kaoru, he's all wrong for you," Kenshin informed his ceiling before he hid his amethyst orbs behind his eyelids and allowed the dreams of his unconscious mind to claim possession of him.
Kenshin questioned his sanity once more. Why had he agreed to leave his pregnant wife in search of Saito's estranged wife. Tokio probably had a very good reason to leave the wolf.
Heck, if Kenshin was married to the guy he surely would have left him.
The ropes holding him to the post were burning into his wrists and biting into his flesh. He could feel the blood pouring from where they sliced him. He could also feel his warm blood pouring slowly from the other various wounds he had sustained.
What did Tokio have against him anyway? This was a domestic dispute, he shouldn't have been involved in such a manner.
Why did he agree to come here again?
"Tokio, please, you should really talk to your husband about this," Kenshin tried to persuade her, ignoring the dizzy feeling he was suffering from his blood loss.
Tokio laughed maniacally at him, sending her dark hair in a tumbling wave over her shoulder. Her eyes seemed black and endless as she sat in front of him and looked him in the face. "You, Battousai, murderer of countless, have no reason to speak. Perhaps I should cut out your tongue as well."
Kenshin quickly shut his lips tightly. He could survive this bloodloss assuming that Kaoru instinctually knew to come and find him. He didn't doubt that she would, but he would most certainly need his tongue to properly greet his wife.
Tokio smiled sinisterly at his silence. "Smart move, Battousai. This really isn't about Hajime. This is about your countless murders that destroyed my tribe, your whore of a wife that stole my husband, and my husband with no honor that laid his seed in her horrible womb."
In spite of himself, Kenshin's jaw dropped open in shock at her words. "What are you talking about? I admit, as Battousai I had done horrible things, but I've dedicated my life to making up for those atrocities. I don't really care what you have to say about Saito, except when it involves MY wife."
Kenshin's eyes began to turn amber as each word passed through his lips. "Never speak ill of my wife. She is an innocent and the only man who has ever touched her is me, her husband. It is my child that grows in her womb." Kenshin began to pull on the ropes in his anger, they frayed at his force.
Tokio began to laugh at him once more and stood away from him. "You can not break those bonds, they have been blessed by the witch of my tribe and soaked in the blood of some of those whom you have stained." She smiled at him maliciously. "The gypsies have desired this day for nearly twelve years now. It is simply convenient that I am able to exact my own revenge against my husband and your whore."
An animalistic growl released from Kenshin's throat and Tokio was suddenly afraid. But the movement of the tent flaps attracted her attention. Saito had an arm loosely around Kaoru's shoulder, steadying her as they entered.
Tokio sneered at the vision. From behind her back, Tokio pulled out two daggers and threw them at Kaoru who upon seeing Kenshin pulled away from Saito to run to him. One of the blades grazed her ribs while the other became embedded in her abdomen.
In shock, Kaoru began to fall to her knees, but Saito caught her in his arms and eased her to the ground. He frowned at the dagger, but knew it would be better to leave it in place than to move it. He noticed Battousai slouched against a wooden pole and struggling to free himself of some bonds.
Tokio smiled at him with a wicked gleam to her eye. "Hello husband," she greeted.
Saito's sword was drawn in an instant. "Evil must be slain," he muttered quietly to himself.
Tokio leapt out of his path and laughed. "You shouldn't have fallen in love with Battousai's whore," Tokio told him. Saito frowned at her, anger clearly defining his features. "I curse you, I curse you all."
Saito rushed at her and attacked with his favorite move and cleanly sliced into his wife under her ribcage, and destroying several organs. He pulled his blade out brutally, "Battousai you are cursed for all your murders. Over and over you shall kill all those whom you murdered this life time. All whom you are responsible for their deaths, not necessarily by your hands but also those who died slowly after the death of their loved ones." She smiled at Saito as blood began to trickle down from the corners of her lips.
"The three of you shall be cursed with this reality. You shall remain cursed until the day that whore Kaoru breaks your heart Hajime. Until the day she kills her beloved Battousai with her own hands. Only then would peace be found." Tokio laughed again before she slumped to the ground in eternal darkness.
Hajime Saito looked at the still form of his wife in shock.
Kenshin fought to remain conscious as the stab wounds to his kidneys began to take their toll upon him. He tried to call out unsuccessfully as Tokio's mother, the witch of the gypsies leapt out of the shadows and stabbed Saito in the back, piercing his lung. His sword was dropped under the assault as he tried to face his attacker only to be stabbed again, in the same collapsing lung.
He would have been stabbed a third time were it not for Kaoru.
Kenshin watched in horror as she pulled the dagger from her own flesh and threw it fatally at the old woman killing her.
Kaoru crawled towards Kenshin and collapsed. He put his arms around her and drew her close. Their blood mingled as their source of life dripped steadily upon the dirt floor of the gypsy tent of Saito's crazed wife.
Moments later, Aoshi Shinomori entered the tent with Misao hot on his trail. Through his tears, Kenshin made a final request of his former enemy turned ally.
Kenshin's eyes snapped open at the end of his vivid nightmare. He shook his head trying to clear his head of the images that had just haunted him. It was too vivid. But, it seemed so real.
He flipped over onto his stomach and tried to bury his face in his pillow and forget the visions. It did no good. He could still feel Kaoru in his arms, dying as surely as he was dying and as surely as their son was dying inside of her.
He sat up in bed as he recalled Shinomori also being present in his dream. "What exactly did I make him promise?" Kenshin asked himself before he threw off his covers. He needed to talk with both Kaoru and Aoshi and see if any of his dream sounded familiar to them. Kenshin shook his head.
What was he thinking?
It was only a dream.
TBC