Past and Future by Hitokiri-san
Oops! Don't kill me yet, I'm going to explain for the long delay! I'm sure you won't want to kill me after that! Anou...You see, I've got 100 reviews! (beams happily) so I think I gotta celebrate. I wrote this chapter to be four times the length of a normal one...with a rather evil cliffie at the end...100 reviews, yay! And hey, I was hurrying to get this chapter out before my final exam, which will be from the 7th of June to the 18th. (mutters something uncivil) so I won't be seeing all of you for a while... so! On with my story!
Chapter 15 A Mistake Repeated
Light sprint decelerated into a walk, until the walk slowed further into a complete stop.
Okita Souji allowed a slight smile to curve his pale lips, charcoal eyes softened as he sensed the person nearing him.
"Saitou-san. What brings you here?" he inquired rather innocently – well, as innocent as Takehashi was when he bumped into Nagakura, that is. Okita wasn't bothering to fool Saitou with his pretended naiveté – Saitou could see through him like a mirror – it was just habit that he kept his naïve look on.
And Saitou responded with his habitual wolfish smirk. "I can say the same about you, Okita."
Okita shrugged dismissively as he felt the ki of his preys split into different directions. So they are trying to distract me ... "Is there a need for me to explain what I'm currently doing?" he turned raised brows at his fellow captain, hidden impatience masked in his cheerful voice.
The lanky Third Troop Captain was the least bit surprised to catch the minimal note of intolerance in his companion's words. Normally, Okita was a figure of unmovable patience...patience when he trained the new soldiers, patience when he readied himself for a battle; and most of all, patience when he tracked his preys - even Saitou must grudgingly admit that his exceeding patience was, to an extent, even creepy.
But now...
"Some exceptional quarries you have here." Saitou opined casually, casting knowing amber eyes at his long-known comrade. He understood what it was like, to meet another samurai worthy of one's attention – after all, there were few that could match the skills of the deadly First Troop Captain. If anything could draw Okita's full attention, the thought of a nemesis with matching skills would surely be it.
Coming upon a sudden decision, Saitou crossed his arms; allowing the blue- green fabric to crease together. "Do whatever you want with them - I shall not intervene." With that he simply turned upon his heels, leaving a wide- eyed Okita standing behind. Life-long friends though they were, they had never failed to surprise each other with their oh-so-different personalities.
Okita allowed a smile to grace his lips. Tonight would be the perfect Aku Soku Zan time.
Kyoto's night breeze had long since chilled into a howling gust.
Kenshin narrowed hard amethyst orbs, faintly aware that the wide sleeves of his gi was flapping painfully against his arm. He simply ignored it – he refused to be distracted at this particular moment. Well, he already had a hundred reasons to be distracted without adding this trivial one to it.
His long-buried hitokiri instincts were insistently trying to kick in, despite his repeated effort at disregarding it. Something was amiss, terribly amiss – the instincts were positively yelling themselves hoarse – think now! THINK! You have to find out what the heck is wrong let the mistake went too far to be mended...
The rurouni didn't need telling twice; willing his ridiculously violent heartbeat to slow down a fraction, he swiftly recalculated all hints of fatal peril that could doom both him and the boy to an early hell.
The boy...
The wanderer's attention slid momentarily as the image of a certain redheaded, blue-clad boy with a swaying ponytail flitted across his mind. Battousai. His breath caught in his throat at the image. He would not have the boy come to any harm, not a chance in the world; and yet, why did he have this feeling that...
Another image materialized, faint as a shadow on the water's surface.
A scarce half-smile.
Purple shawl, white kimono, ebony eyes that spoke of great sadness. Yet in her silent form something cried urgency; something that was totally uncharacteristic to her.
"Tomoe."
Kenshin closed his eyes; one part of him indulging in the vision, another part of him yelling for him to pay attention to his surroundings. He didn't care.
He didn't care for anything at that moment.
"Tomoe...anata, you have something to say to me."
She stood still, hands placed ever so elegantly upon each other – but in her eyes, words flew and sparkled without effort. Words that proclaimed disaster.
The boy...Battousai...
The boy.
Save him, anata. Save him from being forced to do that again. Her image began to fade; and in his mind's eyes Kenshin fancied he caught the sweetly scent of haku baikou.
"That." Ice-cold realization dawned, crashing the redheaded rurouni back to reality. Biting down a colorful curse, He sprinted madly, everything forgotten; back to where he and Battousai had parted in the first place, his speed nearly catching up with Soujiro's Shikuchi. Okita was nothing important now, nor was Saitou...the only thing Kenshin had in mind was to meet up with Battousai again - never to let the hitokiri leave his line of sight for as long as the Kingdom of Kami lasted.
That.
He would never, never have that happen, whatever the cost.
Finally.
With a swift glance from left to right Battousai had all the light sources marked; there were about ten lanterns altogether, raised and positioned at the back of the battalion. The last thing the Shisengumi wanted was to fight in the dark against one single enemy. Heck, in the commotion they might just start fighting against one another.
So they knew how to protect their light source. Not too bad, eh? It would have worked for anyone who didn't know anything about Shinsengumi formations...still, Battousai had known, understood, analyzed them completely. He'd never met the Shinsengumi, but then a full analysis of each and every enemy was a necessity.
He watched with baited breath as the torches seemed to rise up to the airin an exaggeratedly slow motion. Tightening his grip around the hilt of his katana, Battousai steeled his mind for an inevitable battle.
You have always been right, Shishou.
Let's hope you're right this time.
Hiko Seijuro observed with silent contemplation as his young deshi refilled his sake cup with obvious caution. It was a mere three years that their destiny had crossed, and yet young Kenshin seemed to know his habits better than even Hiko himself. He awoke every morning to find a small cup of sake perching on the log he usually sat on, and a stack of firewood perched near his kiln, lest the master suddenly felt like doing pottery that day. All chores were silently done without ado.
Yet Kenshin seldom said anything about it.
And so, did Hiko.
Kenshin, Hiko mused as he gave a nod to the small redheaded child, was anything but talkative. Not that he minded – Hiko himself wasn't the talkative type either – it was just that Kenshin's silence had more or less been the result of closing himself up against sinister memories of his past. His parents dead, his adoptive sisters brutally murdered...these weren't what a child at his age was supposed to go through. But then, he supposed that tragedies were nothing out of the ordinary in times of war.
That wasn't going to work; the kid would soon drive himself mad if he went on like this.
"Kenshin?" the abrupt mentioning of his name plus the absence of the tag "baka deishi" made the redhead jump about three feet towards heaven.
"Hai, Shishou?"
Hiko couldn't think of anything to say. Damn it all, both his status as a swordsman and as a hermit didn't grant him any additional skill in socializing. Hiko's own master had often commented on his uncommunicativeness... and here he was, trying to communicate with his own highly uncommunicative deishi while being even more uncommunicative himself.
Things were getting complicated.
Hiko held his deishi's uncomprehending stare for a brief moment; mind reeling for something he could state to the child without sounding awkward. Something that could distract Kenshin from all those swirling memories inside his little head.
His mind clicked. There was one single thing he was truly comfortable of discussing...
"I ask you, Kenshin – what would you do if you were ambushed by a brigade at night?"
This was part of the training...violet eyes glazed over as the ten-year-old considered the circumstances. There were three special conditions to note: ambush, brigade, and night. The first two he could understand their significance. But what did "night" have to do with it?
"I would finish off the weakest ones in the rank first." Came the boy's soft, thoughtful answer. Kenshin cocked his head in a birdlike way, before further affirming his decision with a slight tilting of his head.
That was a good answer, at least for a ten-year-old. However, that was not what Hiko wanted.
"A battalion, or anything of the sort, frequently adopt formations so they could avoid weaker members from being singled out." Hiko peered over his sake cup, indirectly rejecting Kenshin's answer. The boy narrowed his eyes, trying to piece out the model answer in his little mind. When that didn't succeed, he merely shook his head, looking fairly disappointed with himself.
Hiko glanced sideways at the boy before continuing. There was one thing that he liked about Kenshin, yet the master knew this strength could easily deteriorate into a weakness when the situation was shifted – Kenshin was his own hardest judge. The boy demanded a lot out of himself, berated himself for the slightest of mistakes, and hated himself for something he could not redeem...something like the lives of his family. It was what made him adorable; but Hiko knew too well that it was also the same thing that made him vulnerable.
As if realizing he was brooding too hard, Hiko snapped his head upwards to meet the gaze of his expectant deishi.
"I told you before that the eyes are one of the most vulnerable points of your body. If you lost both eyes during a fight..." he stood up, throwing the mantle back with an audible swish, "...your life is forfeit."
Kenshin nodded at the information, pondering what Hiko might be hinting at. Surely...surely Hiko wasn't telling him to take his opponents' eyes out if he was ever outnumbered? He shook his head almost contemptuously. Shishou would not teach him such lowly tactics, by any means. The lecture about eyes...they must have a deeper meaning to that.
"There are numerous conditions to be considered if you were to fight at night...especially when you were at odds. But the main thing to consider - if you were to fight to your advantage – are eyes. Night's eyes. When you are to fight against multiple enemies, you do not want clarity – remember that you're ambushed." The Hiten master said with a slight smirk about his lips. Out of habit, he never states facts to his student directly. He wanted the boy to think so that whatever was taught would be firmly ingrained in Kenshin's memory.
Well well...he was positive that he had given the boy hints enough to arrive at the answer. Kenshin was never a dork of any sort...and that wasn't that hard a comprehension question either.
Hiko watched as the boy propped his head up with his elbows. Watched as he subconsciously turned to the campfire he had set up for breakfast. Watched as the mauve eyes widened with sudden inspiration.
Smirking with imperceptible approval, the Hiten master unsheathed his katana in a mere millisecond.
And, with a simple flip of his wrist, extinguished the campfire without even getting near it.
Kenshin's violet orbs widened further.
"Yeah, this is what I thought but...how did you do that, Shishou? I was thinking of extinguishing the light sources kept by the enemy by using Do Ryu Sen. Then they'll be left fighting without light...and I'll have an advantage as Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu works equally well in the dark."
"Well, I guess you're correct. But..." Hiko narrowed his eyes with sudden displeasure, "you say you're using Do Ryu Sen to rip the whole street apart just for getting at one lantern? Hmph, baka. That wouldn't do, wouldn't do at all. Maybe I'll have to teach you some non-contact techniques after all." Hiko huffed with his usual ego. And Kenshin blushed a bright red at the comment.
Out of the corner of his dark eyes, the thirteenth Hiten master noted the way Kenshin's eyes lit up at the thought of a new technique. Noted how the boy smiled in spite of himself. The mere thought of kenjutsu had swept the child's usually silent demeanor away.
Hiko came to a final conclusion.
Whatever he had faced in his past, the kid needed Hiten Mitsurugi after all.
"Attack." The command was spoken with the volume of a whisper and the texture of an iceberg.
From that moment on, Hiroi Kizuka knew his prey wasn't going to live for another moment. He frowned; feeling a faintest trace of tugging uneasiness. Bound tightly by his samurai honor, he'd never thought he would resort to using those gaijin gunners...but situation called; and when it earnestly did, responsibility would weight more than his pride, even if maintaining his warrior pride had even outweighed his own life.
Only the reminder of responsibility could enable him to tolerate the distaste of having to deal with what his conscience knew too well – a double-dealer.
Tonight, I will lure him out. There you may have him; be doing the world a favour.
His name...is Battousai. Himura Battousai. The boy hitokiri. A blank smile in the dark.
Hiroi had closed his eyes briefly then. "And you? Will he trust you...will he even follow you out?"
It was curious how a face that had displayed youthful enthusiasm so well could betray suchwickedness at the current moment. Hiroi had made a mental note to discard of such a repulsive character from the earth's surface once his purpose was achieved. He had even pondered whether he liked the bloodthirsty Battousai more than this deceiving bastard.
At least Battousai didn't try to cover himself up with lies.
The alarming echo of ammunition stole the vice-captain's attention back to the hitokiri standing still at the farthest distance his sight could reach. Standing still...so still...as if he had accepted his sealed fate – a death, by the Shinsengumi's hands.
The bullets shrieked across the night air, tearing up air currents wherever they went. All aimed at an identical target.
Then...
Then Battousai was gone.
Hiroi's grey-black eyes widened in utmost shock as he realized just how badly he'd misjudged the Ishin hitokiri.
Oh, how he would pay dearly for that misjudgment...
Forcing his numb mind to keep cool, Hiroi brought his katana up to chest level, prepared to defend at a moment's notice. The other Shinsengumi members were not that smart, however; upon witnessing the hitokiri's abrupt disappearance, most were momentarily confused – swords held uselessly low against any attacks.
"PAY ATTENTION, MEN!" the vice-captain noticed how his throat had gone dry, how his words had nearly choked off in his throat. It was useless – no matter how much attention his men had managed to salvage by that single shout, it was too late. Far too late.
Behind Hiroi, the gaijin were busily reloading their rifles.
"HYAAAAA!" A youthful, almost husky cry made Battousai's reappearance known. Hiroi cursed very audibly as a stream of red-brown hair crossed his vision before vanishing off again. All was clear by then; Battousai had broken into the right flank of his troop. Sinking into an offensive posture, Hiroi dashed at the fast-moving assassin, planning to trap him down for a one-on-forty battle. The Ishin hitokiri was now visible in full light; albeit the fluidity of his movements denied his enemies a good enough look at his features.
However, Battousai would not be convinced of slowing down. Slapping the vice-captain's katana aside with the flat of his blade, he twisted behind yet another Shinsengumi, intending to use the man as a temporarily shield. It was effective – the abrupt dodging movement forced the rest to withdraw their katana immediately. Their unfortunate comrade had thus avoided being skewered at a hair's width, but Battousai had got what he wanted all along – time.
Gunfire wasn't at its best at short distance.
Battousai had his katana in hand, saya and all, as he tore through the ranks like a psychopathic hurricane. He didn't need to see blood – not when any alternate choices were offered to him. He didn't have a sakabatou, that's true; but he didn't specifically need a sakabatou anyway. Sidestepping, the boy elbowed a gunner out of his path; the now-near flicker of torches reflecting in the lavender eyes.
It was action time.
Remember, baka deishi. When you slash at the direction of the light, stop precisely at mid-slash.
The hitokiri brought his wakizashi out in a swift battoujutsu, making sure that no one was in his way. He didn't want to cut somebody into halves by sheer accident...
By the time the blade reached a fraction of a circle, Battousai pulled the arc back in one abrupt, heart-stopping motion. It looked as if the teenager was performing some sort of invisible dark magic in the air. A small, almost mirthful smile graced his lips as he awaited the results.
Because, boy, you are not extinguishing the lights by the ferocious gust brought about by the slash. A flame always react negatively to such gusts – it burns even more fiercely.
But when you end the slash prematurely, the air currents smash against each other. The flame, under such opposing currents, will be destroyed.
The ten torches blazed for a mere second before throwing the street into abyssal blackness. It was then that Hiroi finally realized the sly hitokiri's true intention.
The Shinsengumi flew into a semi-panic, colliding into each other in the commotion. Being quick to draw and desperate to defend themselves, they might just end up in total chaos – exactly what Battousai wanted.
"Damn! What's that?"
"Where's the samurai?" "Keep quiet, moron!"
A clash of steel against a saya. A dull groan, the thuds of a couple of bodies hitting the ground.
That was what set the Mibu wolves off.
"Kisama..."
"Get him!"
"NO!" Hiroi found himself crying to a couple of wavering shadows. "Don't chase after him, that's what he is after! Dammit, stand still, all of you!"
Further rings of metal, until an array of glimmering katana littered the ground. Hiroi had the distinct impression that Battousai was having the fun time of his life. His greatly wavered calmness returned to him steadily; half out of anger at the hitokiri, half out of disgust at himself. He listened, almost dispassionately, as the last of his men fell with unceremonious crashes. He wanted revenge. Revenge for his soldiers. Revenge to the cold-blooded killer who had ruthlessly cut them all down.
"So it's you and me now, Battousai. You and me." A deceptively rational statement.
Mauve eyes widened in the dark. "...so you knew who I am all along. Is it...Okita...?" the boyish voice left off uncertainly.
"Maybe I'll tell you on your tomb." Hiroi stared straight at where the assassin's voice was originated, barely making out his delicate silhouette. His form still unmoving, voice still detachedly leveled, one might think he was no harm for the moment...
Battousai raised his sheathed katana reflexively as Hiroi aimed an over-the- head blow to his head, intending to sever his skull. The boy watched, silently, as the vice-captain's katana cracked his own saya, biting into the blade beneath. Knowing that he was no match for brute strength, the hitokiri twirled around, using the momentum to withdraw his blade. He aimed a slanting blow to Hiroi's back, meanwhile turning his blade around – now that his saya had cracked - so he wouldn't accidentally kill the man off by the attack.
Kizuka grunted, knocking the slash off with half a second to spare. He held no illusions that he was nearly as good as either his own Gumi-chou or Saitou-san; and the mere seconds of battle had proved to him that Battousai was, literally, capable of fighting equals with the above two men.
He didn't care. If he was going to die by the Shinsengumi code, so be it.
While Battousai had his own restrictions of not killing, the vice-captain held no such worries. Following the Battousai around, he promptly executed an eerily close version of Okita's three-point Sandantsuki, momentarily surprising the manslayer. The truth was – Battousai had never ever seen that move before. Heck, he hadn't even met Okita Souji himself before!
The hitokiri swerved instinctively as a katana reached for direct contact with his throat, the arm holding it vanishing with the speed it brought. His own blade was still out from the last attack, so dodging would be the one and only option. Still, the boy felt his body tensing as the tip of Hiroi's sword met with his delicate bright red tresses; severing a few into halves as it went.
Battousai decided that evading wasn't exactly a tactic he could use forever.
Anticipating the next thrust for his right shoulder – Hiroi's movement had shown as such – the manslayer snapped his katana to a horizontal position, shifting the steel so that it brushed right against that of his opponent, until the edge of his katana nicked the chest of his nemesis.
The sharp edge.
Pale lavender eyes widened to their fullest extent as the Shinsengumi vice- captain's lips parted in an "o" of surprise. With a flutter of heart-aching fear the hitokiri flicked his wrist against his own momentum, just in time to slash the man over the torso with the back of his blade. Still, the vice captain could have sworn that the slash, though unaccompanied by a sharp edge, was no less different from a two-handed hit from a spiked club.
In any case, Hiroi's Sandantsuki was nowhere as formidable as Okita's would have been.
Hiroi fell back, a sharp breath caught at his throat. He glanced at his ripped haori in impassive appraisal, then directed his full gaze to the boy across him. He wondered with silent amazement at the wide-eyed panic on the boy's face – it was as if...as if Battousai was afraid that he'd have killed him. So. Was it why Battousai had hacked at him with...the back of his blade?
Yeah right, Hiroi Kizuka scoffed, at the absurdity of the thought, at himself for coming up with such a thought. Hitokiri Battousai would hesitate in killing off a Shinsengumi member...someday. And on that "someday", he added as an afterthought, Katsura Kogoro is going to join the Shinsengumi as a hitokiri. He must have imagined that look of utmost fright on the hitokiri's face...had he?
But yet, a second glance at the redhead gave him an impression that impossibility was not impossible after all.
Battousai leapt immediately backwards as the thin layer of steel in his grasp encountered with vulnerable, humanly flesh; nearly losing his footing and twisting his ankle as he landed. He suddenly felt chilled all over, almost as if drenched by ice-cold water in the coldest of weathers.
He'd almost...done it.
Almost fell into old habit and dragged the katana from Hiroi's shoulder to hip, severing the Shinsengumi into two slanting, bloodied pieces. Almost succumbed to the hitokiri sense that witnesses were the most dangerous people alive. Had he been a bit late to realize it, he would have...Battousai shuddered mentally as his mind provided a rich gallery of what he might've done.
Almost...yet...
He didn't. Didn't do anything to fatally harm the man with his katana. Didn't break his covenant with the rurouni...he angled his katana once again, sharp edge facing himself, once he got a better grip on himself. The hitokiri had never imagined that his older counterpart would have that much of an effect on him. A few days ago, he would have brought the blade downwards without hesitation. He would have believed that the killing was for the greater good, a necessity for the new era to come. And now...
He had come to realize how brittle his belief was. Or put it this way, his "belief" was something that he had forced himself to believe. It didn't sound right, it never did; never since his hands were first tainted with blood. It was getting harder and harder to believe in the so-called Tenchu justice every time he did the job.
The rurouni...he had offered him another sense of justice. A different perspective, in fact; he'd never tried to force it on the boy, but it was enough. To the lost hitokiri, it was enlightenment before madness. A solution of sorts, that made more sense than what he had ceased to believe. Battousai was grateful for that.
Mauve eyes narrowed to their original size.
"You know you can't beat me, Hiroi-san. Not in the dark. Move over, and I'll leave." The youthful voice carried no hint of a challenge, only the dispassion of stating a fact. Battousai had no intention of continuing the fight anymore - even if it might lead to the disclosure of his identity. He regarded the taller man steadily; noting that his quarry's breathing was shallow and uneven, the first signs of injury. The vice-captain would probably find a bruised rib after this.
"I'm not backing down...to a murderer." The words were coolly stated, doubtless, and firm. Hiroi deliberately straightened up, ignoring the constricting pain that erupted from the simple movement. If the manslayer could slash that hard with the back of a sword...he shook his head slightly, the silent serenity returning to his grey eyes.
I'm not backing down even if Death in form of a boy hitokiri stares me in the face.
Hiroi charged forward with a battle cry upon his lips, all considerations forsaken. Battousai was right: there was indeed no way in hell that he could gain victory over the assassin. Then, at the very least, let him die with the honor of a Shinsengumi leader.
Battousai exhaled a hardly noticeable sigh. So this is what the rurouni always have to put up with...stubborn enemies and all. Assuming a defensive stance, he prepared to meet the upcoming onslaught with the minimum of attacks.
An insignificant shift in air current, so small that it could barely be noticed.
What the...
The boy was unable to stifle a gasp as white-hot pain shot up from the back of his knees, blinding out his vision temporarily. He was suddenly knocked out of balance, the movement of his upper body too late to recognize the searing pain, too late to regain control...unaccustomed to such abrupt abuse, his knees gave before him- sending him right in the path of Hiroi's horizontal slash.
Right in the path of an arc of death.
He could only watch in resigned horror as the katana bit deeply into his own chest, blood gushing from the line that thin piece of metal had created. Dotted red upon navy blue...he found horrid fascination in observing the way his life poured out of him, as if in a dreamlike trance...the smell of his own blood was metallic, coppery as any other person's. Blackness in hellish red clouded his mind then, as the boy slammed backwards onto the road, his fall accompanied by the clanging of a katana.
Rurouni...
A/N: Whoopies! At least I'm finished with this chapter...Y'know, when I re- read the earlier chapters, I'm sooooooooo amazed that I wrote something like "the Battousai don't have a brother" and never noticed it! hitokiri- san goes to hang herself in front of her house I'm going to repost that thing someday! And yea, the following are re-reviews for chapters 13 and 14.
Miss Zeal: I'm making this up with the review of chapter 13! You're right, life's getting hellish as I try to cope with my Mathematics (more like trying not to fail it). I bet this chapter sorta reflects the utter chaos that is invading my life... and yup, I affirm again, I'm currently in love with the fic and I'm not gonna stop it, not at least until I finish the Takehashi arc. And the greatest credit an author could get is an encouraging review! Arigatou!
Liemtenshi: Takehashi (aka Taku) is with...dramatic pause well! I'm not telling you. You gotta read for yourself! (blinks innocently) Argh! A blade cut iinto someone's artery? shivers as I imagine the scene that's real creepy, makes me think of the way Tomoe's blood taint the snow...I think I'm gonna get sick...I hope you're happy with this chapter!
Maeve Riannon: Whoops, your name is a little bit hard to spell (so I'm a sucking speller) I'm glad you like the Kenshin/Battousai interaction. It intrigues me, how they're the same and yet so utterly different...maybe the main theme I want to express in the story is not romance or action, but the change of this subtle relationship with the coming of stress, danger and different crisis.
Robin Rainyday: And now I'm the one coughing...I got a freaking cold and nearly coughs my lung out...so here's my turn...thank you for granting me something to lighten my mood today!
B-chan: Soujirou reborn? (cocks head) I'm nowhere like Soujirou! (though I must admit he's real cute...) wiggles finger how does your ice cream get a cheese flavor to it? Maybe it turned bad? Hentai...smirks a 13-year-old thinking of hentai already?
Koe760: Sorry for not replying to your last review, that I most certainly am! Same reason: school's been killing me a lot this year...come to think of it, compared to this year, Grade 9's real cakewalk. The teachers keep telling us how our Certificate Exam is due next year, and that we have to study harder, and harder, and ever harder...(rolls eyes) You're evil! I want a pic, and you deny me even that...(goes off to play a tragic scene of crying my gut out) well! I drew a bookmark with Battousai and the rurouni to celebrate 100 reviews day, isn't that great? Heck but I don't have a stupid scanner...I see you have a real problem in forming coherent sentences smirky Geez! About the email, I think we can start after the dn exam! Email rules! Send me a email if you have time (and no, this is compulsory) talk to you later!
The sacred night: Jeez, I forgot that red hair! Stupid, stupid! (blushes) Well, Hiroi and the Shinsengumi are cough erm...color blind, so that's it. looks around nervously well, I am glad that everyone seems to like Kenshin/Battousai interaction, I'm sorry I have to split them up...but they're going to meet up in...a disaster!
Justice Stryfe: I see you haven't updated for long! (pouts) you gotta give me some input! I love Hiko. And Kenshin. And Battousai. And...jeez, everyone in RK! Thanks for reviewing! I think this chapter is a rather...I don't know how to say it...chaotic one. Also, sorta the start of a one-side action ie Battousai versus Hiroi in the chapter...though I'm not pleased with how it turned out. Hope you enjoy it!
Silverrowan: (laughs) actually, my inspiration does come from some story...and a really famous one at that. I'm not saying which! (blushes)
Angrybee: well, Takehashi's the kind of person with a sick humor smirks...I really love your Hajime and Tokio. It makes my story look like trash...(slinks into a corner)
PhoebeOtaku: I wonder what Otaku means? It's inn a lot of people's name but I don't really know what it means...anyway, thanks for reading this unworthy fic!
Bard Linn: Heh, so you want Katsura-san? (evil smirk) you think I'll leave Katsura off? And Battousai has just stalked the night off without any sort of permission...you see what I mean. wink wink
CeeCee: Oh sorry, I know I got everybody mixed up with the name Kenshin. Kenshin usually refers to the rurouni, because I somehow got the strange impression that Kenshin only belongs to the rurouni, y'know...well! Starless. (menacing grin) just what d'you expect me to mention starless for? chases CeeCee off with frying pan police armed with non-update. (sweatdrops) And you'll see more with that Matsukaze second-rate spy-san too...
Lady E1: I think it's a nice time to ask whether you've fallen off stage with your audition...
Director: AAAction!
Lady E1: ...AH! falls off
Director: Someone call the ambulance! Next!
I hope it's not the way it is, ne? Thanks for your constant reviewing and support! And yeah, I won the drama thingy! (does a little dance)
Dragonheart2: (turns wide-eyes at all those reviews you gave) Hmph, I agree. I love Saitou. Just can't resisting dumping him into the story and letting him face Kenshin for more than necessary...and yah, of course you can use the name Kentai anytime you want ( though I have NO idea what it means) and you promised you're gonna review this chapter, so! (glares menacingly) thanks for all your reviews, ho!
xZig-zagx: Oh! The Wind's Revenge is on! I've reviewed it! Yes, I love that comical little scene with Takehashi and Kenshin struggles for nothing...pity I have to throw Takehashi out of the scene...
BakaBokken: I'm still crossing my fingers for your reviews! I'm sorry you got a writer's block on Strong Will pouts I love the torture part. Bit of a shame, but Kenshin under torture is...lovely. (I think I'm some sort of pervert...) OK, please update that ficcie as soon as the writer's block get bored with you!
NARGIEGIRL21: Wow, thank you for that! I hope your daughter likes my story I'm but 2 years older than her, really. A kid still. You can take my email whenever you like, of course! Sorry but I don't have any other fics at the moment...if I ever start one, I'll email you ok?
