The impossible has happened!
I have finally stopped sitting on my butt reading other people's work and makin' my own (to disgrace the whole world of fanfics). Heh. Buuut I'm doing it anyways.
Disclaimer: Although I have these superduper dolls of the whole Kenshingumi, I don't own any of 'em. Watsuki has that privelige. But I still gots the guts to write a little OOC'ness.
Chapter One: Wind
"Crap."
With a sigh of frustration, the raven-haired, blue eyed woman put away her training sword to look outside. The sky was azure with the occasional lone white cloud. It was a beautiful day…and yet, Kamiya Kaoru felt nothing but irritation. What right did the stupid sun have of shining? Or the annoying birds to chirp in that increasingly irritating way? NOTHING, Kaoru thought angrily. It just wasn't RIGHT.
…Then again, what was these days? In the middle of the Bakamatsu, with war raging and blood creating rivers with tears for the fallen…these were times of sadness, not shining suns or chirping birds or puffy white clouds.
That wasn't the reason Kaoru was angry, though. It was more the fact that there was some sort of emptiness inside of her. Loneliness, maybe? She didn't think so; Dr. Gensai came to visit for her routine patch-ups, and she went out with Tae and Megumi quite a lot. Besides that, there were always Sanosuke and his little freeloading sprees, and her occasional students. But there was still something missing. When consulting her two woman friends, they both looked at each other with little smiles on their faces and clucks on their tongues. It was Tae who answered it.
"Ah, you need a man, Kaoru."
Thinking of it now, Kaoru scoffed. Since when did SHE need one of those testosterone filled idiots? She was perfectly capable of handling this by herself, the same way she always did, without any man. She needed no man. She didn't have heartache; it was simply her time of the month, that was all. And yet when the warm breeze blew, ruffling her ponytail, she sighed.
Turning around, she went back into the dojo to practice.
"You-you are-you can't be…"
The man trailed off, staring horrified into amber eyes.
"No, you can't kill me…I've got a family…and a little girl, I need to live, please spare me, please, oh you can't kill me, you can't do th-" His frantic pleas were cut short with a flurry of movement from the shorter man. His head fell with a splat onto the floor, and his body soon followed. The other man's job was done; they were dead. The assignment had been carried out without flaw, as his superior knew it would be.
Wiping blood from his brow, the amber-eyed swordsman still clutched his katana. His flaming crimson hair was held up in a high ponytail that mirrored his every swift movement. As his hand touched his face, he felt the scar he had seen so many times: a still raising cross. Looking up at the sky, the man's lips moved.
"Damn."
He turned away from the bloody corpse, and looked down.
"Damn. Damn. DAMN. DAMN!" What had started out as a barely audible whisper turned into a scream to the heavens. "WHY WOULD THIS HAPPEN? WHO WOULD LET THIS HAPPEN?"
The gods turned away from his raging question. They did not want this. They did not want to hear of anger and sadness and pain. They did not listen.
But the Devil listened, and he smiled.
Stopping his outburst, Kenshin stayed that way for seconds, minutes, hours. He did not pay notice. Finally, he turned and left for the Ishin Shishi headquarters. This was one of the few lapses in the ice cold demeanor of the Battousai. No one asked of his past that made him so, and he did not offer any explaination. Indeed, it seemed a good thing; Himura Kenshin, since his sudden leaving of the life of a shadow assassin, seemed to let go of human emotions and became a drone, concentrating soley on the task at hand. It was a blessing, said his comrades. A gift from the gods. None heard his cries. None knew.
As he left, a warm breeze blew and rustled his sleeves. He turned onto the road leading to his destination.
Himura the Battousai and Kamiya Kaoru. Both felt the wind blow past. Neither knew of the events to happen, but the wind knew, and lingered slightly with both persons. For they would never be the same, the fates said so. They were oblivious as they continued with their day, not knowing anything. But then, how could they?