Warning! There will be foul language and sexual situations. Duh. It's set in New York City and it is about the most deadly sexually transmitted disease…J
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, or any of the characters affiliated with the show. I do not own any of the lyrics from "Rent." I'm just a sad lil' fangirl that desperately needed to combine the two worlds to get the damn story out of her head. Please do not sue. I have no money.
A Note from Sedjet: Ok. I have writer's block with FotWD, so I decided to put down on paper a story that has been developing in my head since Christmas break. Please don't hate me. Mayhaps once this is out of my system, I will be able to continue with FotWD. I hope that my dearest fans and critics will forgive me, ne?
This is a RK/Rent crossover. Rent is my favorite musical ever. It was the final huzzah for Jonathan Larson, an amazing writer and director. It is a musical about AIDS and how it affected the lives of a few Bohemians in NYC. It is about love, betrayal, struggle and learning life's lessons. It is amazing. If you haven't heard it, I urge you to buy or download the soundtrack. Anyhoo, this is a fic from Soujiro's perspective, but it isn't about him. It is about the important people in his life—his makeshift family, so to speak. If you know the story of Rent, the people are perfectly chosen for the roles that they are filling. Anyhoo, on with the show!
The prologue is going to be very, but a second much longer chapter will be added right after I post this oneJ Do not fear. I would not just leave you, my faithful fans, hangingJ…With the exception of
Rent
Prologue
I am Seta Soujiro. I am thirty-three years old, and this is the story of an "us" against the world. It is about the "outcasts" that, for once, united and became an "us" rather than a "them." I suppose you could call it my manifesto.
You might think that this is going to be about me, but it is not. It is about the eight people that I love more than I can truly express. You see, I had always wanted to be a part of something good, and for a short time, I was. For ten months, I had the privilege of being part of a uniquely wonderful family. Four of those people are no longer with us, and this is dedicated to them.
We were true Bohemians is a time when they said Bohemia was dead. So, in honor of the death of Bohemia, I have compiled a memoir of our little makeshift family. Viva, la vie Boheme!