This is just an idea I had swimming around for awhile . . . it's a crossover fic that mostly has my own characters and stuff . . . so enjoy! I've got the whole long story all figured out just waiting to be written, so don't be afraid that I'll leave you wanting. This one's gonna be great!
Disclaimer:
These characters and everything don't all belong to me, like Kenshin, etc. so I'm just saying that right now! But the stuff that is mine (my characters, my plot, stuff like that) please don't steal! Thanx! ;)
Chapter 1: A Stranger in the Night
Kurai stepped into the sunlight and squinted his indigo eyes. He shielded them from the harsh sunlight with his hand and wondered if this day would be better than the rest. He doubted it. Closing the door, he began walking toward the center of town.
School always sucked for Kurai. He hated every time he had to walk into the classroom and watch everyone go quiet and look the other way. He was used to it, of course, because he always came in late. It was a trade, he figured: come early and be there longer with these people who hated him like they had the plague that killed half the village and his whole family, or show up late and make a scene as he walked in. The second was invariably his choice.
The walk to school wasn't really long, only a mile or so, but it felt like forever to Kurai. The worst part was always passing the houses full of people he could remember being friends of his family. He passed them now – the Takanos, the Hondas, the Ototanis. He remembered playing with Ototani Shigeo when he was younger, before the plague. They were such good friends then. They were together so much that the people of the village started calling them the inseparable twins. And then the plague came and Shigeo never came to play again.
Some said it was the worst plague anyone could remember even hearing about, the worst thing even their ancestors could imagine. If you even went near someone with the plague, you were a dead man already. No one who entered an infected house lived another day. Except Kurai.
It was like a mysterious wind – it came without warning and left silently in the night. There was no time for warning to spread before it had many in its grasp. The first in Kurai's family was his youngest sister, Hanako. It quickly spread to his other siblings and mother, and he could remember sitting in their small house watching them die. He remembered bitterly the pale, gaunt figures of his family laying on the floor. He brought them water, he fed them broth, but they refused to improve, and one by one, they died. He remembered taking their bodies to be burnt with the rest of the dead from the plague – remembered standing before the fire, the smell of burning flesh filling his nostrils and making him choke, feeling the heat engulf him, wash over him, and it made him feel both alive and dead.
He lived in a daze, only doing things because they seemed familiar. It took him two days before he started making food for himself and nearly a week before he stopped making enough food for everyone to eat. He stayed at home for a long time, he couldn't remember how long, and he slowly began to accept and understand his new reality. He lived alone in that house full of memories of a family that was gone and would never return.
He didn't realize until the whispers began in the village that it was strange that he didn't die with his family. People avoided him in the streets and wouldn't let him talk to their children. He heard them call him a demon for surviving the unsurvivable. At first he didn't understand, but over time he came to resent what they said and then grew to hate these people who were so close but had betrayed him. He began to blame them for his loneliness, his grief, his pain.
But he always blamed his father most of all. He remembered how he had left them when Kurai was only four. There had been no warning, no reason, and his mother had cried for months. Kurai knew it made little sense, but he couldn't help but blame him for everything bad that had happened, especially their deaths. He hated that man he had grown to love as a child only to see him leave. He could never forgive him for the pain he had put the family through, the hardships and trials they suffered because he was not there. He swore to himself years ago that he would hunt that man down and kill him for what he had done.
Kurai reached the school and opened the door, pulling himself out of his reverie. He quickly entered the room and walked down the row to his seat in the back. He had sat in the middle or front before, but now no one wanted to be near him. He didn't care about that; he didn't want to be near them either. He considered leaving school many times but never could bring himself to do it. He knew his only chance of any happiness in life was to learn enough to leave this village and start everything over again.
So he studied hard as he always did, learning as much as he could. He was always top of his class in studies but had learned over the years not to expect recognition. He didn't care whether anyone else cared or not. He didn't need anyone.
He was glad to see the school day end shortly after noon. He gathered his things together and prepared to head back to his home, thinking about the chores that needed to be done once he was there. He sighed at the work he had to do. If only school started later he could do his work at home earlier in the day, but as it was he could not. He would have to wait until evening before he could tend his garden, since the midday heat would be bad for freshly watered plants. He often wished he could do something to make money and buy his food instead of growing it, but everyone refused to trade with him.
As he left the building and began towards home, he noticed a group of boys his age standing near him. They whispered something and laughed, seemingly enjoying themselves. Kurai looked at the tallest one, Shigeo, and sighed. He knew his friend never meant to be cruel, exactly, but he had been. Even after all these years he hadn't ever spoken a word to him. His group of friends tried to bully Kurai a few times when he was younger, but Shigeo had always been the one to talk them out of it before things got out of hand. Even still, he wasn't around all the time, so Kurai had learned how to defend himself.
It had been a difficult task, finding someone who would help him learn, and at first he had no idea who to turn to for help. He knew no one in the village would help him, and that really only left one person – the old man who lived on the other side of the village and into the forest. No one ever went to his house or even near it because there were rumors that he had once been a skilled killer, someone with a bad past, someone with an angry temper. No one was even sure of his name. Everyone was afraid of him, some even thinking that perhaps he had powers that helped him do so much when he was younger.
So Kurai had gone to him for help. He had been afraid that this man would kill him, but he didn't really care. He had lost so much he was sure there was nothing left that was worth living for except revenge on his father, and for that he would need to know how to fight anyway. But when he arrived at the man's door he discovered that some things were true and others lies – the old man's name was Kondo Tadashi and he had killed in his youth, perhaps a lot, and he was very skilled with a sword. But he was a good man, willing to help. They became, in a way, unlikely friends. And Kurai learned how to defend himself.
Kondo-san would not teach him to fight with a sword. He felt strongly that Kurai should only know what he needed to defend himself. When Kurai told him why he needed to learn more, so he could revenge his family, the old man had told him that more death could only bring more suffering. Kurai disagreed, but he did not complain. He knew someday he would be able to get Kondo-san to teach him.
Kurai was brought back to the present as raindrops began falling all around him, more and more frequently, and he quickened his pace. He wanted to return home and build a fire before it grew too cold and he was too wet. As he reached his house he built a small fire and set on a small pot of water to heat up, dicing some small plants into it. When that was finished he settled himself into a low chair, tired from a day where he had done little physical labor. He was always tired, it seemed. He didn't care to do anything more than he needed to to live, and right now, there was nothing he could do. He hoped it would rain long enough he wouldn't need to tend his garden. Watering would be done and weeds could always wait for tomorrow.
He began mending an old shirt that had belonged to his older brother, Akio. He had torn it yesterday while chopping wood for his fire and couldn't afford not to keep and wear it until it fell apart completely. When he needed new clothing the only thing to be done was to use something that had belonged to another in his family. He had taken apart all of his smaller siblings' clothing and made them into things that fit him. So far he had not gone through everything and he wasn't sure what he would do when he did. He figured he would have to find something he could make and then take it to a village a ways away to sell it and buy cloth or clothing. Kurai was glad he hadn't had to do that yet.
As the evening progressed the rain only worsened, pouring down with angry purpose. Kurai ate his dinner and went to bed, dreading tomorrow. He knew it would be a day just like every other, and that was nothing to look forward to.
Rough pounding on the door awoke him. He groggily sat up in his bed, wondering if he was hearing things right, and it came again, this time more insistent than before. No one had knocked on that door for years and the sound was odd and strange to him, though distantly familiar, and he went to open it. He grabbed a stick he kept near the door and unlatched it, peering out into the rain and darkness.
A crouched over man stood before him, obviously tall but tired from a long journey. He seemed hungry, tattered, and homeless, and Kurai almost felt compassion on the man, but suspicion overrode it. "What do you want?" he questioned harshly, narrowing his eyes.
The man looked up at him for a moment and then spoke. "I suppose I can't expect you to remember me. It was so long ago; you were so young then. May I speak with your mother?"
Kurai reeled at the memories that came to him with that word. His breath quickened and he struggled not to let his emotions show to this stranger. "She is dead. All of my family save me died in the plague. Why do you ask for her?"
The man staggered at hearing this. "No," he whispered. "No, this can't be true. I came so quickly, I tried so hard." He leaned on the door, all his strength seeming to have left him. He seemed lost in inward thought and grief.
Kurai stared at him, wondering why a man who felt such acute sorrow had never bothered to come before. "Who are you?" he whispered.
The man looked up, tears mixed with the rain on his face. "Oh, Kurai," he said shaking his head. "It's been so many years. I'm Nakamura Toru. I don't expect you to recognize me, Kurai, but I'm your father."
Kurai reeled as this information seeped in. Now that Toru had said it, the resemblance was obvious. This man looked like the vague memories Kurai had of his father from when he was so young. His mind seethed with confusion and anger. He closed the door a little farther. "You are not welcome here!" he spat. "How dare you return after all these years! You are lucky I don't kill you now!"
"Please, Kurai!" Toru said. "I know how this seems to you. I know what you think I've done, but please, let me at least explain myself. Just let me explain, please, and then I will go if that's what you want, you can kill me if that's what you desire. Just hear me first."
Kurai eyed Toru with anger built up over the twelve years since he had left. His first instinct was to trust nothing this man said, to turn him away or kill him on the spot. But as he opened his mouth to command him to go, he saw the grief on this man's face. He saw him as a weak man who had lost everything and now was looking only for understanding and a place to stay. No, not just that, he realized. Toru was looking for his family. For Kurai. He softened a bit. "Alright," he said, "you can tell me your story. But I'm keeping you to your word. Don't expect me to open my door to you with glad arms after all these years."
"Of course," Koru said, smiling a grim smile. Kurai opened the door farther. As Toru walked in he shook his head. "There is so much you deserve to know."
Okay, so that's it for chapter 1! I hope you're excited for more! PLEASE R&R (read and review for anyone who doesn't know ;) Chapter 2 should be up in the next week!
