One hundred and forty years ago, in the chaos of the Bakumatsu, there was a warrior called Hitokiri Battousai. This warrior, who paved the way for the new Meiji era with these bloody battles, disappeared at the conclusion of the bloodshed, and with the passage of time, became a legend, known simply as "the strongest."
And so our story begins, in Tokyo, in the year 1878...
A figure walked alone on the foggy street in the faint morning light. This person was rather unremarkable, except for two things, the sword they carried at their waist, and the mane of bright red hair, which, even tied back in a loose ponytail, reached all the way down their back.
If one looked closer at this figure, they might also notice the battered, slightly dirty kimono and hakama, the skin, which even for someone naturally fair, was a little too pale, and the faint circles under the eyes which betrayed their lack of sleep, despite the brisk, confident walk. And there was one last thing that might have been noticed...
But there was one person on the street who evidently was not going to pay attention to any of these things.
"Hold it right there! Hitokiri Battousai!"
"Oro?" The figure turned, to see a young man with a long ponytail holding a wooden sword.
"At long last I've found you! Your two months of bloodshed in the streets ends tonight. Prepare yourself!"
With that the young man charged. His target leapt out of the way with ease, deftly landing on a wooden fence that...
CRASH!
"ORO!"
...Promptly collapsed, taking its burden with it.
"Well, that didn't take too long," muttered the attacker. Then, to the semi- conscious heap on the ground, "Hitokiri Battousai?"
"..."
"Are you the Hitokiri Battousai?" demanded the attacker impatiently.
"...ruro..u..ni"
"What?"
"I'm a rurouni. One with no family or profession. A wanderer, just arrived in town. I don't know anything about bloodshed in the streets," said the wanderer hurriedly.
For the first time, the attacker noticed all the things mentioned in paragraphs two and three. He also noticed the "rurouni's" voice. Not the harsh, low tones of an assassin. Actually, it was sort of... high pitched...
So what? thought the young man, mentally slapping himself and continuing his interrogation.
"Well how do you explain the sword at your waist? Don't you know swords are banned?" He reached out and drew the wanderer's blade. "Wait... what is this? A reverse blade?"
"Sakabatou de gozaru," came an answering mumble.
"Eh?"
"Could this reverse blade kill anyone?" asked the wanderer.
"It couldn't," agreed the attacker, inspecting the blade, "And there's no sign of it ever being used either. You really are..."
"Just a wanderer."
"But WHY," asked the young man, with a hint of annoyance, "are you carrying a sword you can't use?"
"Uh..."
The shrill sound of a police whistle cut through the air. The wanderer's assailant cast one last frustrated look at their victim, and took off at a run towards the noise, leaving one confused rurouni sitting in the dirt. Standing up slowly, the wanderer dusted off the worn hakama, and realized abruptly how light the sakabatou's sheath felt. That would be because...
"HE TOOK MY SWORD!"
Meanwhile the young man was having problems of his own. He had followed the police whistle to a scene of carnage. A group of dead or seriously injured policemen were lying in the street. Mostly dead, noted the youth grimly. The last squad member was a short distance away, facing down a monster of a man.
"Battousai," thought the young man.
The last policeman was shaking with fear, as his attacker snarled at him.
"Weak! Weak! You're all too weak!"
"He's too strong!" gasped the policeman, who had reached the level of terror where people start talking to themselves.
The giant moved closer to his victim and assumed an attacking stance.
"Die."
The young man decided he could watch no longer. He threw himself between the two fighters, holding up his sword in preparation to block. It was then that he realized that he was holding the rurouni's heavy steel sword, rather than his wooden one. The killer's sword arced towards the boy. Instinctively, he raised the blade in an attempt to block. But the extra weight unbalanced him, and the giant man landed an attack that sliced across his upper arm.
"Oh. Crap."
The killer raised his sword for the final blow. The young man tried to hold the heavy sakabatou steady. A blur of orange and magenta approached from the right.
"DIE!" said the giant.
"OOF!" said the young man as a bright colored and rapidly moving object slammed into his side, propelling him out of harms way. When the boy regained his senses, he was lying on his back in the dirt, with a heavy weight on top of him and orange hair hanging in his face.
"Where. Is. My. Sword?" hissed the heavy object.
The youth was too winded to respond, but moved his head to show a direction. The sakabatou was lying in the dirt several feet away. The heavy object looked extremely annoyed.
"Cah- can you get off me?" coughed the young man.
"Uh, um... sure," muttered the wanderer, face reddening as the rurouni noticed the awkward position they were in, "Sorry."
"Accepted. Now get off."
The rurouni stood and began to make his way over to where the sword lay on the ground. After two steps the unfortunate wanderer collapsed into a curled up ball.
"...I...think I dislocated my pelvis..."
"You are pathetic!"
The giant, who had been observing these events with detached amusement, decided that he had been away from the center of attention for too long. He turned and ran from the scene, while yelling,
"I am Battousai! Hitokiri Battousai of the Kamiya Kasshin Style!"
"WAIT!" yelled the young man, preparing to run after the killer, "WAI- wait, where's my bokken?"
"...ngh...at your waist..." came a pained reply from around ankle height, "Don't...chase him... you're wounded..."
"And you're pathetic," said the youth, bending over to help the rurouni up. "Wait a minute..." he said as the front of the wanderer's kimono gaped open revealing layers of bandages, "Are those...chest bindings?"
Miraculously healed, the wanderer jerked away from the young man, while pulling the front of the kimono as tightly closed as possible and squealing in what the young man noticed was a very girlish manner.
"No way! You're really..."
"Female. Yes," sighed the wanderer.
"And you carry a sword."
"Yes," said the wanderer in an annoyed tone of voice, she'd been through this line of questioning many times before, "What of it?"
"Well... its just...It's..."
"What?"
"That's so COOL!" yelled the young man.
Silence.
"Oro?"
"No, seriously! My father always said there should be more women allowed to practice kendo. My mother used to teach me, you see, and father always said she was better than he was and- WAIT! Where did Battousai go!"
"Oro! He gave you the name of his school, so it should be relatively easy to track him down..."
'Kamiya Kasshin is MY school!" yelled the young man, rapidly switching emotions again, "Battousai is committing murders in our name! Once I get my hands on him I'll!" He lunged forward rapidly, then jerked backwards even more rapidly.
"You'll what?" asked the wanderer, holding on to the young mans ponytail, "Chasing a man when you're wounded is taking your life into your own hands. Besides, we should leave this place before the police start asking too many questions."