Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.
Note: Thanks to lovelywhatever and also to reignashii for reviewing! 0 v 0
Dark Wing
Chapter One
I am not perfect. I am beautiful. I am not a heroine from out of a book. I am just one girl in a sea of thousands of others. I am Kaoru.
Dawn's early rays pierce her eyelids. She turns her back away, away from the bright light. But in the shadow of her bed, her eyes open, and she is awake. She loves mornings-the way everything is silent, and has a certain quality to it that she cannot name. She tumbles out of bed and reaches for her day's clothing. There isn't much of a variety. Her only dress, after all, is an oversized, blue cotton skirt, with a lavender top. Over her dress, she slides on a brown cloak, made of rough material that scratches at her skin. She rubs her hands briefly-it is almost winter-and opens the wobbly wooden door.
Her eyes briefly roam over the surroundings. This is where she was born. The murky green canals, the elegant black gondolas….Venice. It is her world. She remembers when she was younger, kneeling down to dip her small hands into the waters, her mother scolding her when she did so. That was then. This is now. She has no family anymore. She steps out from the house and starts walking. It is a long day ahead of her…
She goes to her usual spot beside the bridge, where most people pass. Once upon a time, she-Kaoru Kamiya- went to finishing school. Once upon a time she had friends. Once upon a time she had a promising life ahead of her. Now? Now she survives on the alms and pennies of other people-people she does not even know. She sings-they throw coins to her. They are all generous strangers, but it is hardly enough to pay the rent for the small house she lives in-let alone food…but she is grateful. Some people are worse off then her.
The sun has barely risen, and no one is out yet. Still, she likes sitting at the foot of the bridge, staring out at the pastel colored sky. She stares into the murky water-black in the shadows-of the canals. She remembers last year's Winter Festival, when all the ladies and men dressed up in glittering masks, and silky dresses, and danced throughout the city. IT had been a magical night, even for her-just a viewer of the spectacular event. She could have been one of those people at one time. She sighs, and picks at her dress. She reaches out, like she used to when she was a girl, and dips her hand into the water. Her hand brushes against the smooth stones…and something else. Something soft and feathery. A feather? She blinks slowly. Her eyes follow the white shape of the feather to something else beneath the water. Her eyes trail along the shape and realizes….It is a dead body…
Vvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvvv
It is the body of a young man, half submerged in the water. His face is angular and sharp-yet it is now an unnatural, deathly white. The hair is a rusted amber-the color of dried blood.
Her mind whizzes with thoughts. A dead corpse…a murder….She is both revolted and confused. Her stomach turns at the sight of the pale, ashen face of the young man. Her head hurts. Her stomach lurches. She vomits over the side of the bridge, onto the dead body.
She falls on her knees, panting. She wipes her mouth with the corner of her sleeve, disgusted. Closing her eyes, she listens to her own heartbeat, wondering if she should…perhaps…drag the dead body from the river.
She sighs, the bitter taste of indigested food still lingering in her mouth. She stands, and wobbles towards the bank of the river. The bitter bite of the river hits her knees as she wades in. Half closing her eyes, Kaoru reaches her hands into the water and pulls the dead body up. It is surprisingly light. She flinches at the scent of metallic blood, and wades back to shore.
She drops the dead body onto the sand. There. She had done her job. She would just tell the police what had happened. Hopefully, they would believe her story. She opens her eyes…and vomits again…
On the dead man's back lies two misshapen wings, bloodied and splattered with crusted blood. They are mangled, and blood oozes from a deep gash.
She rubs her eyes and stares again, hoping her stomach will not turn again at the sight of those bloody wings. She is too exhausted to be surprised. If Fate wishes to play with her life in this way, fine-let Fate do as she pleases.
Her mind is blank. Her hands are covered in a mixture of blood, vomit, and sweat. She is disgusted with herself. She wants to tell herself that today was just a dream, but she knows it isn't. It should be a dream, but something-just something-about the dead face of the man tells her that this is reality. And she has just defiled his dead body with her puke.
Gingerly, she reaches out her hand to brush away the vomit. As her hand makes contact with his face, she notices how silky his skin is….Just then, his eyes flash open to reveal orbs of blazing gold.
