Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin copyright Nobuhiro Watsuki. Don't own it and never will. Unless of course I win the lottery… then we'll talk.
Summary: AU. Bound together by war and circumstance, two people find themselves in each other. AxM
Author's Note: My first attempt in the fanfiction world and my last. I enjoy imagining but articulating those ideas is a different story. I've been tossing this idea around in my head for a few months now and yes, I am aware of the fact that is bears some resemblance to three or four other stories published here on I like to believe that they are all at heart, the same story: a love story. This is simply my take on it. Enjoy.
Chapter One
The sound of their footsteps echoed loudly in the eerie silence that seemed to permeate the house. The quarters of the Okashira were appropriately opulent, draped in seemingly endless lengths of silk and old; what disturbed him was the complete absence of people, servants even. If they had made haste and fled into the vast forest surrounding the Lord Makimachi's domicile, there was no evidence of it. No overturned vases, no scattered remnants of clothing or jewelry. The lack was unnerving.
Rounding the corner with no one in sight, he wavered before a set of screens that marked the threshold of the Makimachi harem. Signaling to the men trailing slightly behind, he silently ordered them to disperse before grasping the doors and sliding the open. Here the men at his side, additional guards sent to ensure the survival of certain vital hostages, faltered as well, exchanging nervous glances.
He closed his eyes, struggling once more between personal desire and duty. There existed a logical reason as to why many great lords designed their fortresses to resemble mazes; most were a dizzying spiral of rooms and hallways built for the sole purpose of fortifying the heart of the home: the harem, which housed not only wives and children but heirs to the blood. For a stranger, a man not of the bloodline, to cross the harem's threshold uninvited was to effectively destroy lineage whether or not blood shed. Shame would tarnish the wife, doubt would be cast over the legitimacy of children, family honor would cease to exist. Or a massacre would ensue.
His purpose was the latter and it haunted him.
Hand tightening unconsciously on the katana at his side, he thought back to the argument with Kaoru just this morning. She meant more to him than it would ever be wise to admit, soothing the guilt that marred his broken past. The girl he had come to kill… Misao, what was her place? Was she wife, daughter, friend? For years, the names and faces of his victims plagued him, evoking nightmares whenever he slept. When ordered, he had even killed comrades, men both respected and admired. His last assignment, he had killed his wife. For her betrayal, she, like many others, had known the cold edge of his sword. He had not drawn the blade, his gift and his curse, since.
But this duty, he could no longer deny his lord. Once more Kaoru, once more.
Kenshin crossed the threshold and the men, ever loyal, followed.
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She was surprisingly easy to find. Given a choice, the rational decision would have been to flee, deserting her father and family name as her mother had clearly done. Instead, she sat in the harem garden, beneath the flowers. White jasmine bordered the walking paths while cherry blossoms, a light blush of color, littered the ground. The summer sun shone brightly overhead, bathing the leaves in warm golden light. Color, vivid and alive, sprang from the leaves as a butterfly danced across his path. It was all very beautifully arranged.
Leaving the guards behind, he stepped off the porch, the gentle click of geta marking each ominous step he took, bringing him closer to her. She did not turn her head, or look up in surprise; did not seem to notice him at all, even as his shadow fell over her lap. Yet, he was aware that she was aware of his presence and he took the opportunity to study her.
She asked a boon. One moment. One moment and he granted it. The confrontation would occur on her time and he had no desire to ask when she preferred to die.
She wore blue silk, of a color similar to that of her hair. The dark mass fell freely across her back. Unbound, lose tendrils danced in the air whenever the occasional gust picked up. She was attractive in the manner of Kaoru, possessing a natural prettiness that could only be nourished by natural goodness. Her hands, small, pale and delicate, here held in her lap, slightly fisted, betraying anxiety in the otherwise tranquil picture that she presented. He respected the grace with which she held herself and decided on the whole that she was a rather remarkable creature.
She chose at that moment to look at him.
I'm sorry. Steel knew the caress of steel as he drew his katana and said in a voice he could barely manage, "Makimachi Misao, prepare to meet your death."
Author's Note: So, how was it? I hope I didn't bore you all to death. o.o Anyone up for chapter two?