December 2, 1854
Kenshin woke up the next morning. His clothes where still caked with blood and grime from the night before. He had a flash back of how it felt when he killed Watanabi, of the bliss he felt, of the freeness and ecstasy of not following orders but just tasting the blood of the man awakened something in him he never knew existed. He had always hated killing people before, but now he relished in it.
He slowly got up and used the trunk of the tree he was laying against for support. It was mostly dead since it was winter and white snow glistened around him. The only evidence that suggested he killed anyone was the blood on his clothes and the very small amount he transferred to the snow he slept on.
Yawning Kenshin slowly ambled over to a nearby lake. It was mostly frozen with a few patches of unfrozen water. He carefully maneuvered around the weak parts of the ice where it may break and found a spot where he could wash his clothes properly.
He slid his gi off slowly and laid it next to him and then took off his hakama. He stood there completely naked and shivered slightly. He was use to the harsh conditions that being a hitokori came with but it didn't mean it was pleasant.
He dipped his hakama into the freezing cold water and watched with fascination the blood come lose from the hakama and into the water. It swirled then spread out and dyed the ice that floated there red. He then scrubbed the rest of the dark red stains off and did the same for his gi.
Sighing deeply he took the clothes out of the water and wrung them as well as he could. Taking another sigh he slipped on the cold wet clothes. It clung to his skin uncomfortably and made the cold even worse but he didn't care now. Slowly he walked away from the lake.
The wind started to blow harshly and Kenshin looked to the sky. It was gray and bleak, just like his future, but yet once again he didn't seem to care. He was a ronin now. He would kill when he wanted and when he pleased. A loner with really no place in this world, he was resigned to his fate.
__________ ______ ___
Later that Day at Sunset
Kenshin walked through a forest overlade with white snow. Soon he came into a clearing with one medium sized, western style cabin and one big, almost- dead cherry blossom tree. Walking over to the cabin he saw a sign that said "Bar". He could use a drink; some sake could do him good.
Without even wondering why there would be a bar out in the middle of nowhere, the ronin opened the front door. What he saw was a fireplace and a couple of trophies on the wall of the cabin. He went to take a seat in a chair in front of a long counter and could see that the bar was done in a western fashion. Being unaccustomed to the way western bars where, Kenshin didn't know what to do so he waited for the bartender.
Out from a door behind the counter came an old man, he was hunched over and had a graying beard. He carried a small cup of rice wine and without even seeming to notice Kenshin took the cup over to some hooded man in a chair a couple spaces to his right. The old man smiled and then turned towards Kenshin.
The ronin grunted out something that sounded like sake please and the old man slowly complied by going back through the door. Kenshin glancing to his right he looked curiously at the man. He couldn't quite see his face and wanted to know who he was.
He then heard the old man open the door again and put down a cup of sake in front of Kenshin. Kenshin handed the man a couple pieces of silver mon. The man nodded and Kenshin asked him why he had a bar in the middle of nowhere. The man just grinned and said simply that travelers came by frequently and that he had no trouble getting business. He then once more disappeared through the door.
Kenshin sipped his sake and finished it quickly. Glancing to his right once more he saw that the stranger had a sword at his belt just like Kenshin. Kenshin decided to just forget about the stranger and started towards the cabin door. As he opened the door he heard just barely someone whisper, "You'll be dead before the week is up, assassin."
Kenshin woke up the next morning. His clothes where still caked with blood and grime from the night before. He had a flash back of how it felt when he killed Watanabi, of the bliss he felt, of the freeness and ecstasy of not following orders but just tasting the blood of the man awakened something in him he never knew existed. He had always hated killing people before, but now he relished in it.
He slowly got up and used the trunk of the tree he was laying against for support. It was mostly dead since it was winter and white snow glistened around him. The only evidence that suggested he killed anyone was the blood on his clothes and the very small amount he transferred to the snow he slept on.
Yawning Kenshin slowly ambled over to a nearby lake. It was mostly frozen with a few patches of unfrozen water. He carefully maneuvered around the weak parts of the ice where it may break and found a spot where he could wash his clothes properly.
He slid his gi off slowly and laid it next to him and then took off his hakama. He stood there completely naked and shivered slightly. He was use to the harsh conditions that being a hitokori came with but it didn't mean it was pleasant.
He dipped his hakama into the freezing cold water and watched with fascination the blood come lose from the hakama and into the water. It swirled then spread out and dyed the ice that floated there red. He then scrubbed the rest of the dark red stains off and did the same for his gi.
Sighing deeply he took the clothes out of the water and wrung them as well as he could. Taking another sigh he slipped on the cold wet clothes. It clung to his skin uncomfortably and made the cold even worse but he didn't care now. Slowly he walked away from the lake.
The wind started to blow harshly and Kenshin looked to the sky. It was gray and bleak, just like his future, but yet once again he didn't seem to care. He was a ronin now. He would kill when he wanted and when he pleased. A loner with really no place in this world, he was resigned to his fate.
__________ ______ ___
Later that Day at Sunset
Kenshin walked through a forest overlade with white snow. Soon he came into a clearing with one medium sized, western style cabin and one big, almost- dead cherry blossom tree. Walking over to the cabin he saw a sign that said "Bar". He could use a drink; some sake could do him good.
Without even wondering why there would be a bar out in the middle of nowhere, the ronin opened the front door. What he saw was a fireplace and a couple of trophies on the wall of the cabin. He went to take a seat in a chair in front of a long counter and could see that the bar was done in a western fashion. Being unaccustomed to the way western bars where, Kenshin didn't know what to do so he waited for the bartender.
Out from a door behind the counter came an old man, he was hunched over and had a graying beard. He carried a small cup of rice wine and without even seeming to notice Kenshin took the cup over to some hooded man in a chair a couple spaces to his right. The old man smiled and then turned towards Kenshin.
The ronin grunted out something that sounded like sake please and the old man slowly complied by going back through the door. Kenshin glancing to his right he looked curiously at the man. He couldn't quite see his face and wanted to know who he was.
He then heard the old man open the door again and put down a cup of sake in front of Kenshin. Kenshin handed the man a couple pieces of silver mon. The man nodded and Kenshin asked him why he had a bar in the middle of nowhere. The man just grinned and said simply that travelers came by frequently and that he had no trouble getting business. He then once more disappeared through the door.
Kenshin sipped his sake and finished it quickly. Glancing to his right once more he saw that the stranger had a sword at his belt just like Kenshin. Kenshin decided to just forget about the stranger and started towards the cabin door. As he opened the door he heard just barely someone whisper, "You'll be dead before the week is up, assassin."