Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

Hello, I would just like to thank everyone who is taking the time to read this story. I thought it would be interesting if people could see what Kenshin's parents lives were like. Weird notion, huh?

:Japanese Words:
(If anyone sees any mistakes with these words please tell me. I don't want to offend anyone)

Chigo- child
Onna- woman
Iie- no
Owakare- farewell
Kawairashii- lovely

Monastery of Dreams
Price of the Virgin

Virgins always fetched a grand price, no matter what they looked like. They could be ugly, battered, and wore, and still the merchant could sell them for quite a profit. This had been the fate for her mother, and her sister, and soon it was to be hers. She'd never known any of her family except her sister who told the doomed fate of her family in some type of explanation, trying to make the occurrence appear acceptable. She wished it was not so, but this was the only life she had ever known. For fifteen years she held the position of a slave, a burden to her merchant, but now it was different. Her bosom was in full ripeness, and her legs were slender, and her face just mature enough to rid itself of childish features.

This was the age her sister, Heiko, was taken. She never saw her again. The only thing that her six year old mind remembered was that before Heiko left she told her one thing; her family name, Matsuoka. After that nothing more, not even a semblance Heiko's face came to mind. She might have been beautiful; in fact she was sure Heiko had been beautiful, but these of course were just her fantasies. No one ever talked about those who were sold; it was an unwritten law, taboo.

"It looks like we have reached Sekigahara." A woman said nearby. She was a little older than herself with brown eyes and straight black hair, coarse like her own, but in the same respect. The woman looked at her with harden eyes, "You're going to be sold today, even though you have that hair, Hanako."

Hanako looked away, not giving her attention to the woman's words. The woman spoke of her only abnormality, her hair; it was crimson colored. The merchant asserted that her ancestry must have done something terrible to upset the gods to make her so outlandish. Yet her sister never once said anything about it. Hanako guessed that was because she herself did not know. Maybe the merchant was correct. Her hair was her curse to some. Secretly, and only to herself, did Hanako indulge in the exotic beauty of the red hue.

A rain dropped settled coldly on her nose, daring herself she glanced up into the dark sky. It had been dark clouds for two days now, and so cold it rattled her bones. At the present, there were ten girls huddled in the back of an opened aired wagon being transported to Sekigahara for auction. It seemed as if they had finally arrived. Small, dilapidated buildings rose from the land, giving the impression that a single huge gust of wind could topple them down like small doll houses. It was sad, but no different then any other city.

"I heard Sekigahara is decent once you reach the inner city." The women conversed indistinctly, some to keep warmth, and others to keep their minds off the future. It was always the same in the back of the wagons. Hanako did nothing except tighten her flimsy cloak over her, knowing in the end the warmth it provided was nonexistent, for it poorly crafted and torn in some areas. All of them were in the same condition, but she was glad of one thing; her hair covering. At least the cloth covered her ears from the biting cold. She made it herself, years ago, to conceal her crimson sin which she was donned with.

Hanako looked out of the wagon, seeing in the distance vast hills and mounds rise lazily. She was content in the fact they were not going up hill or down; in wagons the trip was never a fair one. A woman touched her shoulder kindly, "This is your first time to be sold, chigo?"

Hanako nodded, numb of all fear and disgust. "You're the youngest here are you not, chigo?" Hanako nodded, and the woman continued on, "And this is your first time to be sold, correct?" The woman seemed incredulous.

"Yes, my first." Hanako admitted. The woman nodded tersely and clucked.

"Worry not, chigo; we all get use to it. Bitterness wears off in time." That was the end of the conversation, neither of them wishing to talk anymore and both numb to the point of exhaustion; pain had long ago resided into the creases of the mind. But, nevertheless, did she feel bitter? Hanako, to exhausted to think, shook her head and leaned back against the damp smelling wood. Soon would come time for her fate, and soon the night would come and steal her only worth. After that she was nothing except an instrument for work, and maybe sometimes pleasure.

-Two Years Later-

The woman was right; she did grow use to it. Selling was a process she lived for, but the bitterness that rose within her that first night she'd been with a man still lingered. In a couple of years, it would go away, hopefully.

Abruptly the woman next to her tripped and fell to the wet earth. Alarmed, Hanako looked towards the front seeing the horses stop, and the two men look around to the back, flames in their eyes.

"Get up, onna!" The course voice yelled from the top. Hanako, as the three others, said nothing; they all at one point received the same treatment. The woman did not get up, yet even so she struggled. Hanako felt a certain empathy wanting to help, like her, the woman had been walking for days to reach the next auction site: Edo.

They had come from a small costal, fishing village, and the rain which had always stained the plains near the vast blue had been falling drowsily for three days now. Wet and chilled, they walked as the men rode through mud soaked roads and sloping hills. Even now the rain poured down on them.

"I said get up. We have to be in Edo by nightfall!" The course voice came again, closer this time as he jumped off his horse. Hanako focused on the steady noise of the rain falling upon her head cover, the way the forest seemed to rise above her on the left side, while on the other, rice patties started to flood. Farmers should have a good crop. These things took precedence in her mind. Hanako did not listen to the woman's pain filled screams as the merchant beat her with this large, polished stick. One learns not to hear after knowing there is nothing that you can do.

Hanako retained to urge to fist her hand, and instead breathed out quietly gazing up at the other man on the horse whose body was twisted in the effort to see the beating. A cruel smile was plastered on his face when he finally noticed she was looking at him, and he must have not liked something in her eyes for he spoke up.

"What, onna? Do you have a problem?" It was only right to address him else she too would be beat, that is if she was not in line for one already. Had she been scowling? If she had then that was reason enough for him to hurt her, and she was already exhausted and chilled.

When Hanako spoke the woman's screams had fell silent. "Iie, Ma-re-san."

"Ma-re, I think I might have killed her." The course voice laughed, and the man who frowned at Hanako looked towards his brother and gave a slight smirk.

"Oh well, she really wasn't much of anything," He shrugged giving one last look at Hanako, "She was too ugly and lazy to be worth a good profit."

"Yes not much of a loss, brother." He said getting on top of his horse. After that Hanako did not listen to them any longer, but stared back at the woman. The urge to vomit came immediately, and when she looked at the others who had to witness the event, their faces were tinged green. Hanako wished she had done something, but her hands were tied, literally. In a final farewell, Hanako gave one last look back, drawn to the image. The woman had not been beautiful, but yet now she was deformed so much that ugliness could not depict her white form. Blood pour from her skin giving the ground fresh wine to feed on, her body was twisted in impossible angles, and...

Hanako turned her face away as the horses started pulling again. Owakare, Heiko.

Not a single tear fell from her eyes, never would they fall. One did not talk, or even suggest at the dead. But despite her ugliness, Hanako still dreamed that she, at one time, had been beautiful. Maybe when you turn ugly that's when your bitterness desiccates.

It seemed as if hours had passed, days really, until Hanako and the others finally stepped foot on paved roads which were better than the trails they treaded. Edo rose in front of them, but as always Hanako paid no heed to anyone or anything, and no one to her. Her red mane was covered. The sounds of activity rushed past her ears as they made their way through the crowds to the auction. The brothers had said it was near the docks. Looking up for a moment, Hanako noticed the clouds start to scatter, and dull rays of sunshine fall from the heavens. The buildings of Edo were not very tall, but were enough so that the full amount of light did not shower on most of the wet roads. Edo was just as any other city.

Hanako looked down again, the streets were crowded and so packed that she feared falling amongst their stepping feet. If the brothers did not kill her the feet of the crowd would. Gazing around herself, she regarded all the small stores and goods and other such things; elements to fill her mind. A horse would pass every now and then, just as carts full of food, mothers carrying around children, and beautiful women dressed in colorful kimono's walking as graceful butterflies.

But amidst these things something caught her attention, or should she say someone. A voice floated in her ear, "Amon, how are you?" Never before had she heard such a voice; deep and melodic, but at the same time harsh and tempered. Quickly, Hanako turned her head to see where the voice wandered from, and in an instant found her target. Hanako never noticed that she'd come to a complete halt, but there he was.

He was a tall man with messy onyx hair which floated around his face, and had a sword at his waist. Hanako stared gently, noticing muscles covered over by a green gi and black hakama. Startled, Hanako realized that he was the most handsome man she'd ever seen. Nonetheless, there must have been a type of power in her gaze for he stiffened and turned to face her...she was looking straight into violet orbs. Kawairashii...

Suddenly she saw his eyes tense angrily, and it was then that she felt her side burn in agony. Hanako did not even see the stick coming, but oh, she felt it. Keeping her anger inside of herself, she looked up feeling foolish. Ma-re sat on his horse glaring down at her.

"You there...!" The same voice called out, but Ma-re did took no notice, his anger did not let him.

"Onna, next time I warn you, answer when you're spoken to." Had he been speaking to her? She looked down mortified, and spoke in the affirmative. They were already walking before the man could reach them. And so, when Hanako gave into the urge to look back at the man she was surprised to see that he was following them, with violet eyes strained on hers angrily. But the crowd was far too populated, and the horses far to fast that in a matter of moments he disappeared from her sight.

Hanako looked onward. He was probably like all the others.

A/N: Hello minna-san. What do you think of this story so far, I do not think anyone has done a story on Kenshin's parents and I have wondered what they would be like...so here it is. Please tell me if you like it or not. I tired to do research on his parents, but all that I came up with is that they died when Kenshin was really young from cholera...is that right?

If I'm not please tell me. Also if you have any other information please tell me.

Also, I'm no Japanese so I had to go to a free dictionary translate site to get some of the Japanese words...so if I'm wrong with some of them I would really appreciate it if someone would tell me the correct way to spell them.

Should I continue this story? Please Read and Review if you have time. And, I know, I could really use a Beta-Reader…is anyone up for the job?

Weather it's now or later, the kid inside will always return.
-S.J. Kidd