Note From Sedjet: Ok. So this is a bit depressing, and I can't promise it is going to get any better. It's going to be sad. There is going to be lots of foul language and possible violence…And LOTS of angst. It's a sad story. I can't promise a happy ending, but I do promise a hopeful ending. Anyhoo…On with the show!
Rent
Chapter One:
Rent
Seta Soujiro checked the battery life of his hand-held camcorder. Satisfied, he pressed the power button and focused in on his best friend, Himura Kenshin. Kenshin is a small man with long, gorgeous, shiny crimson hair. He has the appearance of an eighteen year-old, but in fact he is twenty-seven. He is broody and angry which lent to a sexy quality which caused many a woman to roll over onto her back, legs spread wide, but that was years ago. As of late, he just sat around the apartment, picking half-heartedly at the guitar he used to devote hours of practice to. He never plays anything. He just picks at it.
He was practicing with a reversed-blade sword that he hadn't picked up since before he stopped playing his guitar. His movements were graceful, his strokes fluid and his attention was completely focused on the task at hand. To Kenshin this was an exercise in meditation. He is eyes followed the path that the blade cut through the air, his gaze never leaving the sword.
Soujiro shook himself from his reverie and began to narrate as he focused the camera on Kenshin from a safe distance, "Close on Kenshin as he practices with the sakabatou that he hasn't picked up in years." He thrust the camera into the petite red head's face, "Note the concentration, the passion, the—" He stopped abruptly as the reverse edge of the sakabatou touched the delicate skin of his throat.
"Sou!" Kenshin barked, "If you don't get that fuckin' camera out of my face, I'm going to slice you in half!"
Soujiro was not phased in the slightest. Instead of running with his proverbial tail tucked betwixt his legs, he turned the camera on himself, "Yes, folks that my best friend. Charming, ne?"
"What the hell are you doing, anyway?" Kenshin grumped, reluctant to admit his curiosity.
"It's the documentary I've been wanting to do. I wanted to do something meaningful, so I thought I would document the daily lives of…well…I guess it's just you."
"What about Misao?" Kenshin smirked.
"That is so over. She is so fickle." He sighed. "I hope she ends up being happy with Shinomori. I don't know what she sees in him. Maybe she keeps him around just for show. He's not exactly a conversationalist." Soujiro chuckles, "Then again, how could he ever get a word in edge-wise."
The ghost of a smile passed over Kenshin's face, but the phone rang, destroying their moment of camaraderie.
"Thank god," Kenshin muttered. He assumed Soujiro would answer the phone, but he didn't. "Aren't you going to get that."
Soujiro shook his head, a goofy grin on face. "Nope. We screen our calls now." Kenshin just rolled his eyes, going back to practicing his kata.
The answering machine picked up and a smooth, silky voice fills the room, "Guys, it's Enishi."
"Shit."
"Fuck."
"I'm on my way to pick up your rent."
Kenshin dove for the phone, snatching it from the receiver, "What rent!" He stabbed the conference call button.
"This year's rent. I've gone easy on you, and—"
"Easy! You said we'd never have to pay rent!"
"Yeah!" Soujiro piped in, "Remember, when you bought this place?" he shouted.
"Yeah, we were roommates!" Kenshin railed.
"Yeah, I remember." He muttered blandly. "How is everyone?"
"Oh, we're fine, aside from the Tomoe fiasco." Soujiro muttered. He never did have good social skills, poor boy.
Enishi is quiet for a moment. Then, "Anyway, I need your rent, or I have to evict you. I can't afford to have you free-loading."
"Evict us! We're you're best friends. You told us we could live here. For free." Soujiro yells at the receiver.
"Fuck you!" Kenshin bellows, "If this is about a personal vendetta, it's pretty shitty. I loved her too—"
"I'll be there in a bit," came the soft response. "See ya later."
Kenshin slams the receiver back onto the cradle. "That fuck! It's like he's punishing me for Tomoe's death." He threw himself into a chair, burying his hands in his thick hair.
Soujiro sighed. He went to Kenshin and gave him a couple of awkward pats on the back, "I don't suppose you want to come see Misao's performance tonight or go to dinner afterwards?"
"I'm broke, Sou. Besides, I don't feel like going anywhere tonight."
"Right," Soujiro sighed, walking to the door of their loft apartment, "Don't forget to take your AZT. You know what happens when you do," he reminded Kenshin as he opened the door and disappeared behind it.
Once outside, Soujiro lifted the camcorder, turning it on himself, "Kenshin had a girlfriend that he was really serious about. He was with her—Tomoe. One day Kenshin came home and found a note from her that said, 'We have AIDS.' That was all it said. You can imagine the devastation. Unfortunately, that wasn't the half of it. I would like to be able to tell you that they are working through it together, but I would be lying.
"After finding the note, Kenshin ran to the bathroom to be sick, but the door was shut. He didn't remember shutting the bathroom door before he left, so he assumed someone was in there. So, he knocked on the door. When there was no answer, he opened the door. The sight that greeted him was a sight that no man should ever have to see. Tomoe has slit her wrists in a bathtub full of scalding hot water.
"To risk sounding cliché, that was the day the music died. Kenshin stopped playing his guitar, his band broke up. He got way into drugs and nearly killed himself. He wouldn't leave the apartment unless it was to get a gram or two of smack or coke. He shut himself away and zoned himself out of the world he was so angry with.
"It got to the point that I could no longer recognize in him the human being that had been my best friend. Our friend Sanosuke and I took him to a rehab clinic. We were there through the crazy outbursts and the withdrawal fits. It wasn't pretty. It was a long road home and back to being the Kenshin that we used to know. He's still not the same, but that is to be expected. He is dying, after all. How ok would you be?
"But today, he picked up his guitar, muttering something about needing to write one meaningful song before he dies. There is a light in him that I haven't seen since Tomoe was alive. It is a different kind of light, though. It is a frantic light. He is struggling, floundering. Music used to come so easy to him, but after two years of not playing at all, he lost his knack for it. I'm glad that he's trying at all, really. It means the old Kenshin is struggling to get to the surface. I really hope that Kenshin breaks through. I miss him." He frowned into the camera before cutting the power.
TBC…
R 'n' R if you feel like it. This fic is near and dear to my heart, I would love to hear any constructive criticism you have for me.