Alright everyone, 1st chapter! I'm seriously tired of trying to read my handwriting on this crumpled piece of paper. I have sketches everywhere as well…sighs I need to get more organized. Hopefully starting out typing the chapters will make it a lot less time-consuming. I'm going to be busy again…I have all these dumb requests for self portraits and stuff. But guess what? I have to draw Peter from some band. I think its My Chemical Romance but I'm not really sure. And FACCS is coming up! It is a competition our school does every year, and it's my last year I can enter as junior high. I don't know but I think I'm doing a singing solo, drawing, choir, and sculpture. No one ever does sculpture so it's an easy category.

Ok, I really need to shut up. I promise I won't do this next chapter! laughs

Disclaimer: I own cream cheese and a bagel which I will go eat right now because I'm hungry. Yum.

Chapter One

The Tug of Chaos

The bloody hitokiri limped sourly towards Inshin Shishi's headquarters, replaying the events of the assassination in his head.

'I can't believe I didn't notice the ki on the left!' Himura mentally berated himself for not sensing the experienced ninja hidden amongst the trees.

By the time he had realized the disguised ki was there, he had already been hit with a star shuriken on his left thigh. It had pierced straight through his tattered grey hakama and embedded into his skin. He had stopped immediately and removed the shuriken after he finished the job but the wound was still burning fiercely.

Not having any supplies to clean the wound, Himura had merely tied a spare handkerchief around it and had begun walking towards the inn.

He was really regretting not taking heed to the other soldiers' advice and bringing some sort of first aid kit along with him. Sure, a handkerchief stopped the wound from bleeding all over you, but that was it. It wasn't something to keep out infection and it wasn't even staying in place well.

And of all the things it wasn't, it sure as hell wasn't a pain killer.

Kenshin cringed as he stepped on a small twig, a searing pain shooting up his left leg.

'Ok, this is pathetic! The most feared hitokiri in the world cringing because of a twig!'

'Yes, but it was a very painful twig.'

Ok, now not only was he a wimp, but a wimp that talked to himself.

Peachy.

Finally snapping out of his daze, Kenshin realized he had come upon the inn. Inclining his head towards the guard, he slowly slid the shoji door open. As expected, all eyes were on him.

Not that he was expecting anything different, but it really got quite annoying after a while. Kenshin couldn't really blame the fighters; with his delicate figure, pale, heart-shaped face, and long, silky red hair…you could say he didn't exactly fit the description of what you would expect the Battousai to look like.

Which gave these idiots more to poke fun at.

"Oi, Himura! My wife is looking for someone to help her pick out a new kimono, ya think you can help her out?"

Whirling around, Himura shot the man a cold glare over his shoulder. Roars of laughter erupted from that man and a few of his buddies. The rest of the Inshin Shishi's fighters only snickered or gave him a nervous smile.

Normally, they would never be so daring to say an outburst like that (as well as laugh at it). But as Kenshin looked around, his eyes landing on about thirty empty sake bottles, the reason dawned on him.

Either he was drunk, or this guy was the biggest idiot ever.

"You shoulda seen your face!" The man choked out between laughs, "You actually resemble a guy when you're pissed!"

Not even bothering to spare the fighter a glance, Himura made his way up the stairs, determined to have his much needed bath and to clean his wound.

Kenshin reached the top of the stairs, looking around. If he was correct, he was five doors down to the right…

'Ah! There!' Kenshin mentally rejoiced, spotting his room and walking/limping towards it.

Kenshin grinned. Only three more feet to go and he could get his bath and-

"Himura-kun! Oh my, what happened to your leg?"

-be stopped by the mistress of the inn.

'Great.'

Putting on a fake, reassuring smile, he turned to face the mistress of the inn. She was a small woman, around 5 or so inches shorter than Kenshin, with short grey hair pulled up in a tight bun on the top of her head. It was always held up by her favorite yellow ribbon which complimented her midnight colored kimono with large, colorful sunflowers adorning it. She was an older woman, in her late sixties, with a warm smile and a kind nature. A true grandmother hen if there ever was one.

"It's nothing, Yamashi-san. Please don't-"

" 'Nothing!' he says! Dear, that is no 'nothing'! Just look at you! Covered in blood! We need to-"

"But Yamashi-san-"

"Now Himura-kun! No 'buts'!" Giving Kenshin a strict look, she continued.

"As I was saying, we need to clean that up! Running around with an injury such as yours is madness!" she finished, her hands on her hips.

With a defeated sigh, Kenshin succumbed to her wishes.

"Alright, Yamashi-san. I'll go take a bath and then you can clean up this wound."

"Excellent! I'll have your dinner in your room after your bath as well! Oh dear, you must be starved!" she exclaimed, motherly concern once again to work.

The mistress walked off to fetch some first aid, murmuring about "stubborn young people" and "leftover rice".

Slowly sinking into the tub's warm water, carefully favoring his thigh of course, the red-head sighed.

'Katsura-san has picked a nice inn, I wonder how long we will be able to stay?'

Nothing good ever came upon the people who spent their days working at inns the Inshin Shishi stayed at, you see. The last inn the Inshin had stayed at was attack by the Shinsengumi's second squad. The rebels had made a narrow escape, sending Battousai out to prowl the area and kill off the people in small groups. Although the tactic the Shinsengumi used was a good one, it was very vulnerable if your enemy finds a pattern in the places your men are stationed.

Shaking the thoughts of battle from his mind, the hitokiri ducked his head beneath the water.

Suddenly, a knock was followed by an old woman's voice.

"How's the water, Himura-kun? Oh, I do hope it is to your liking! I didn't make it as hot as I usually do, so…" A pause. "Himura-kun?" Another pause, this one more frantic. "Oh heavens!"

Bursting through the door, a frightened look on her face, she bellowed urgently.

"Himura-kun!"

Seeing him beneath the water, she rushed towards the tub and stuck her hand into the water. Grabbing a clump of the hitokiri's hair, she pulled with newfound strength.

Feeling a tug on his hair followed by a strong yank, Kenshin opened his eyes, startled. Even though the hot water stung, he kept his eyes opened; determined to see just who interrupted his bath.

"Himura-kun!" was the loud shriek.

Head now above the water, Kenshin turned to look at a teary-eyed Yamashi-san. She looked terribly frightened, still holding onto his hair and slightly shaking. You had to admire the old woman; who in their right mind would grab the hitokiri Battousai by his hair and yank him to "safety"? Most would have let him drown.

…and maybe it would have been best if she did.

"Oh dear, oh dear! I thought you had drowned!" she cried.

Still a bit shocked about the fact that his head had just been cruelly yanked out of a bath tub, the hitokiri responded in a stunned silence.

Weeping residing after a while, the mistress of the inn finally looked at Kenshin through her now puffy red eyes.

"Oh heavens! I'm so sorry! I do believe I just walked in on your bath, didn't I?" she asked, not expecting an answer.

Quickly scrambling out of the bathroom, the innkeeper pulled the shoji door closed in a flurry.

'Well,' Kenshin thought, eyes still wide, 'that was interesting.'

After his not-so-relaxing bath, Kenshin had wandered off to his room and changed into a spare yukata. A little while afterward, Yamashi-san, as expected, had nervously knocked on his door with a steaming pot of green tea and a tray full of so many assorted meals it was clear she was a woman who loved to spoil children.

And by the rosy blush spread across her cheeks, one could also draw the conclusion that the little bath incident had caused her quite a bit of embarrassment.

And this was not a good thing, considering that she had yet to help with Kenshin's injury. The whole ordeal was quite funny actually, with a blushing Yamashi-san attempting to fix the wound on his thigh without removing his yukata. In the end, she had finally worked up the strength to kindly ask him to remove the troublesome article of clothing and work on his wound. It was terribly deep and would take a long time to heal, but it wouldn't leave a permanent scar.

Smiling to himself, (well, as much as he could) the young hitokiri grabbed a brush and began running it through his silky red strands, wanting to get the task done before his hair dried and painful knots ensued.

Pulling his hair tightly up into a high-placed topknot, he tied it securely with a gold ribbon Yamashi-san had given him. "It matches your eyes!" she had said.

Many people have told him his eyes were the most frightening thing about him. One fighter had described them as "molten fire blazing amongst the darkness of the night". Even his use of the shadows, flame-licked hair, and menacing battoujutsu stance were considered ten times less intimidating. Quite weird actually, to think that a single pair of different colored eyes could instill such fear.

Slightly limping, Kenshin walked over to the window and sat down against the wall, laying his katana and wakizashi right next to him. He moved his left leg into a more comfortable position to spare his wound the pain. He closed his eyes, slowly drifting into a sea of bloody dreams.

Japanese Words

hitokiri: manslayer, assassin

-san: it shows respect

-kun: a suffix you would use to talk

yukata- a robe used for sleeping as well as other uses

katana- a sword

wakizashi- shorter sword carried around by a samurai

I think that's it... I really hate fangirl Japanese. If you don't know the language, don't use it! So I will only use what I feel is necessary.

And another chapter done! I told you this chapter would be longer than the first. All my chapters will be about this length. No longer! I don't think my poor fingers could take it…lol. And the plot doesn't start rollin' till next chapter, but don't fret, this lazy one will get there! Oh, and if you would like me to respond to your review, leave your email and I will gladly email you back! And if you haven't noticed already, I refer to Kenshin as "Himura" when he is acting more Battousai-like and Kenshin when he isn't.

Till next chapter,

Punch Buggy