Disclaimer: Watsuki Nobuhiro... All hail Watsuki Nobuhiro for creating Rurouni Kenshin. Such a sad story.

Chapter 10:
Rurouni

Kenshin leaned over the railing of a wooden bridge. He watched in despair as the water flowed calmly underneath. It looked so peaceful and smooth, the complete opposite of the city of Kyoto. Kyoto, with its bloodied streets and constant fighting was in the mist of its most important change in all of history. The Chôshû and Satsuma clans had managed to strike a bargain and were now allies in this unforgiving battle to over throw the Shogun Tokugawa. Fighting on both sides of this war had become brutal enough to scare many of the city's residents from leaving their homes.

The young hitokiri continued to watch the flow of the river silently. "Yodo River..." he softly whispered to himself. The aching feeling in the young man's heart continued to throb as the warm morning progressed. How long had it been since this very river had landed him on the banks of the city of Uji? Landed him right in front of Akiko.

Akiko.

His entire face saddened as he began remembering the young woman. Her warm, forgiving smile. Her gracefully choreographed movements. The faint, yet distinctive smell of the perfume that she so much adored. But most importantly, the expression of pure joy she'd have just holding her daughter in her arms. A slight smile crossed the young man's lips as he remembered that heart warming smile that seemed to wash away all worries and despair.

As quickly as it had come his smile turned into a frown as tears began to build up in his clear eyes. They were both gone now. He would never see Akiko again. He will never have the chance to hold her in his arms again. Worst of all, he would never hold his child either. A brilliantly vivid image of the small girl flashed in his mind. He felt a large knot form in his throat as a few tears raced down his face. He had looked desperately all over the entire city of Nara and the surrounding villages for the small girl. He had even gone to Osaka to try and find the infant child. He had implored the help of Kuniko (who was most willing to help even if she didn't openly admit it), and yet wasn't able to find a single trace of her. Everything was hopeless.

A young man leaned over the railing alongside the young hitokiri. Kenshin looked up at him rather surprised. The man looked to be somewhere between his mid twenties to early thirties. His short, chestnut colored hair nestled around his angular face in an array of semi disorder. A pair of small semi-rounded glasses settled on the end of his pointed nose. His expression was one of dismay as his eyes slowly wandered aimlessly before him. A pair of swords clearly visible from under the sleeveless, earth colored haori he wore.

Kenshin looked down once again at the water flowing below. He gently whipped the tears from his face with the sleeve of his gii. The swords on the man's waist were enough to identify him as a samurai. A more respectable man then he could ever be. Soon, a nagging feeling that he had meet this man before began to stir within him. Yet, in his unsteady mind he couldn't seem place where they had meet or who he was. After a while, he sighed. There was no point in trying to remember. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing mattered to him anymore. Not life. Not death.

Death.

Kenshin had thought much of this as of lately. He had lost everything, yet he was still alive. He killed many on a daily basis, yet he himself still drew breathe. What was his purpose in life? He had told himself many times that it was to help those who couldn't help themselves. To protect the weak from the unfair and unjust, but most importantly, to give others hope. The hope that he had been denied as a young child. He had told himself these things many times.

Years ago, his master had warned him of the great despair he would bring not only to others, but to himself with his selfish so called justice. Kenshin half smiled to himself cynically. He didn't want to admit it, but the tyrant Hiko had been right yet again. This new justice he was helping create was forcing him to take the lives of many. A filthy deed that he had never imagined when he first set out from his Master's side. Exactly what Master Hiko had predicted would happen.

"What's wrong boy?" the man asked.

Kenshin looked over at the older man surprised. Apparently, he had been watching him for quit some time. He shook his head slowly. "Mine is a filthy life," he began in a low tone.

The man watched the youth for a moment with a stern look on his face. He studied him briefly before pushing his glasses up the length of his nose only to let them slide back down to where they had been previously. His honey brown eyes focused on the two swords on the young man's waist. "I take it, then," he gestured towards the pair of swords on the young man's side, "that you've also taken lives?"

The young hitokiri nodded solemnly.

"So you feel like a wretched, insignificant life yourself?"

Again the young man nodded.

"And I'm guessing that you feel that your death will be the only way to atone for all those lives taken? For all the wrongs you have committed?"

Kenshin nodded once more as his head hung low. An uneasy smile crept across the young hitokiri's face as the two men stood silently for a while.

"I have a very good friend I've known for years," began the older man suddenly, "he's very sick now and still seems to be struggling with himself as well, you know." The man paused to make sure that the red haired youth was paying attention to him. Their eyes meet. He smiled as he continued. "For the last few years he's been in and out of depressive states. Ever since we came to Kyoto, we've told ourselves that we fight for the good of the whole of this nation. He detests having to take a life, yet he is the best of us all." He paused for a moment, as his eyes narrowed. "There was a time a few years back that he felt so wretched and guilty that he came very close to committing seppuku."

Kenshin looked up at the man with a look of interest. "Why didn't he?" he blurted out before he could think.

The older man smiled, not minding the younger one's imprudence. "Because, as he put it, 'it is the coward's way out'." The man paused for a moment looking up at the clear blue sky as he began to recall the incident. "It takes much more strength and courage to continue living with all of one's grief then to die and let it all end in an instant. As long as one is alive, one still has a chance to make amends for the crimes one has committed and ritual disembowelment takes away that chance to truly make amends. But most importantly, death will only bring despair and sadness to those who care about you."

The young hitokiri stood attentively listening. The idea of continuing to live rather then die to amend for one's crimes seemed mind-boggling. How could anyone even want to continue to live after all the horrendous acts of evil one has committed? Who could possibly morn his death?

Akiko would.

His heart skipped a beat. Akiko had worried about his safety from the moment he said that he would leave her to return to Kyoto. She had worried about him with every visit he made. If he died, then her spirit would most certainly be saddened. "What has become of this friend of yours?" he questioned.

The man pushed his glasses back up his nose as he looked out over the river. "As I've said before, he's very sick, but he'd still rather live day to day with all his guilt then to concede to illness or enemies. He's decided to continue living for as long as he can, helping everyone he can in any way possible." The older man looked out over the river with a grin. "I've never seen him turn down a request for assistance, no matter how trivial the matter. He always got yelled at for doing so. That he shouldn't be wasting his time with everyone else's troubles. But he did it anyways. He said he feels a great deal of relief when he's able to be of service to others. Besides, there's always someone who is in need of help and the dead can never be of any help to the living."

Silence fell between the two as the soft sound of the bubbling river below them filled the air. Kenshin continued to think this new philosophy over in his mind. Help others in any way possible, no matter how trivial the affair. Never give in to death. Live.

"Well," began the man after the long pause, "I'd best be off." He straightened his haori as he turned to walk away. Again, he pushed his glasses up his nose as he gave the young man one last glance. "It was nice meeting you," he spoke softly, "and I hope that you find a way to reach peace of mind." Slowly, he began on his way to the main road.

"Wait," Kenshin called out. The man turned slightly in his direction with an inquisitive look on his face. "What's your name?" asked the young hitokiri.

The man smiled warmly. "Shinpachi," he began, "Nagakura Shinpachi. Take care, kid." With a small wave of the hand, the slim man was finally on his way.

Kenshin stood frozen. His heart pounding in his chest with each breath he took. Nagakura Shinpachi. He had been speaking to the captain of the second unit of the Shinsengumi, one of his mortal enemies, without incident. It was no wonder he felt some familiarity towards the man. He knew the man better by name then by face. He had fought him less then a handful of times, all during late night ambushes. The battles had been so fierce and brief that it seemed that both men hadn't really had the chance to memorize one another's face.

His features eased as he continued to watch Shinpachi make his way down the street. Even if that man was his enemy, he had given him something to really consider. If he were to continue living rather then to die, would he really be able to atone for his sins? Could he really bare to live with all his guilt any longer? Akiko would be saddened if he were to lose his life. But, what other purpose would he have to continue living? To aid those who couldn't help themselves, like he had told himself many times before? At the moment, he still yearned to die as his confused mind continued to race with questions.

Sakura.

A sudden wave of anguish filled him. He couldn't die yet. He couldn't possibly consider death yet. He felt like a fool. How could he have even considered dying without finding his daughter first? She too would be saddened, saddened to know that her father gave up on her so easily.

Kenshin looked up one final time. He watched as Nagakura Shinpachi continued on his way down the street, slowly disappearing from sight among the great crowds that swarmed the city of Kyoto. Somehow, he felt his soul to have been refreshed by this quite chat.

----

The three sat quietly for while after Kenshin finished narrating his story. The red haired man's head still hung low in the early autumn night as it had hours ago when he had first began to tell his story. In his lap lay the unwrapped paper package with the tiny lavender kimono made by Akiko for their daughter. He held the old kimono with both hands, slowly rubbing the fabric between his finger tips.

Both Kaoru and Megumi could be heard sobbing, their hands held up to their faces as they listened attentively to each word spoken. Megumi held her handkerchief up to her eyes, drying away her tears before they had a chance to streak down her face. Kaoru on the other hand used the sleeve of her bright yellow kimono to dry off her soaked cheeks.

Sanosuke took in a deep breath as he looked up at the crescent moon. The pouting look on his face made his features look smaller and rounder then his usual narrow self.

"This one was still torn up inside," Kenshin began again in a soft tone. "They were both..." he stopped himself short, "they had both been taken away. After some time, this one finally decided to leave Kyoto and... search for Sakura-chan... At lest, it seemed, that whomever had murdered Akiko had taken mercy on Sakura-chan and taken her away. She was still alive... somewhere... and this one was determined to find her even if it took the rest of one's life." He grew silent for a moment before beginning to fold the small kimono again. "And this one decided to amend for all the evil deeds past committed the best one could," he trailed off as he looked up at the moon.

Sanosuke looked down at his short companion with a sympathetic look in his eyes. It almost seemed like he had bitten down on his tongue to prevent himself from speaking. Could he still be that torn up about it, he questioned himself. The memory of the man he had once looked up to flashed in his mind. He himself had felt a great pain for nearly ten years with the loss of Captain Sagara. He exhaled loudly. How could he possibly compare the grief of losing a figure head he had only known for a few years to that of a blood relative? Kenshin was truly strong if he could live day by day with such grief in his heart. Yet another reason to look up to this frail looking man.

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A/N: Alright then, that finally ends the "past" part of the story. Hope you all liked that... and if you're like my friend, you'll probably end up hating me for writing such "horrible things!" But hey, I like the way it was going and this was what I had in mind for such a long time and I'm glad that after so many years I finally wrote it out. Anywho... the story will still continued and I hope you guys enjoy that part too as well. So, until next time, ENJOY! .