Author's Note: FINALLY I am able to write five pages (on paper) for a single chapter alone! Ah! I feel like I achieved a new record or something…
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Aku
Chapter Two: Former Alias
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Unlike many of the spoilt, self-centered brats of the new generation that clung on to their sheltered childhood like a vine to a branch, Sagara Sanosuke had actually left his home ages before he took his first steps to adulthood.
He left his family empty-handed save for the clothes on his back. And even now, at the age where one might speak of him as a man, one year before he hit his second decade, he still possessed nothing of real money value; at least nothing he had could sell for more than a hundred yen. He didn't keep any mementos of the family he'd left behind, either.
Sanosuke was an individual with few sentimental attachments… except for the one weapon with which he used to fight; Zanbatou, the sword that gave him his alias.
But even the one thing he treasured was no more; it had been broken in two the same day Himura Kenshin, the man he first sought out to kill, broke the chain of hatred that held him down for years.
Just like that chain of hated, the broken weapon was a useless thing to keep. Most would have thrown it out of their lives by now.
The former Zanza asked his friend Kamiya Kaoru if he could keep it at her Dojo.
…
Sanosuke ran a calloused palm over the smooth metal of the Zanbatou's blade, its shiny surface reflecting the movement of his fingers tracing it. The wooden handle lay a few centimeters away from it.
Perhaps if he were to send it to a blacksmith to put it back together again… no, he shook his head as if to clear his mind of such pointless dreams. He already owed Himura Kenshin and Kamiya Kaoru too much. There was no way he could afford more debt.
What can I do now? He wondered inwardly. Without his Zanbatou, his trade as a hired street fighter might as well be non-existent. He had no income, starting from today onwards.
Sagara Sanosuke, unemployed. That was what the government would label him. He grimaced inwardly; at least when he was still Zanza, he had had a regular allowance.
Damn those Meiji bastards! Sanosuke swore silently. Who gives a shit about those rat finks! His knuckles flared white as he gripped the broken Zanbatou, then dropped it and gave a yelp of pain as the sharp edge pierced his skin.
The former Zanza sucked at his thumb, something he would never be caught dead doing in public, where the blade drew blood. A drop of blood splashed onto it, spoiling the flawless silver skin with a drop of crimson.
Heck. If the Zanbatou could no longer assist him in a fight, then he might as well leave it somewhere so it couldn't hurt him either.
"See you later." Sanosuke slid the closet door shut, then turned away and walked out on the last thing that marked his trade, the sign of evil on his back trailing his path.
…
"Ninety-two, ninety-three, come on, only seven more strokes to go and I'm done!" Myojin Yahiko panted as he practiced the new technique his teacher Kaoru had taught him the previous week.
Under the normal circumstances, the kid samurai would not have bothered to even get his butt off the floor. But this was not normal circumstances. Yahiko was practicing so he could beat Kaoru at their next practice match.
That Ugly shouldn't have messed with me, not in front of Kenshin! I'll show who's the real wuss around here! He vowed silently to himself.
…
Sanosuke had kept his Zanbatou away and he was making a de-tour to Kaoru's kitchen for a uick bite when he noticed Kaoru's kendo student practicing by himself.
However, being new to the "Kenshin bumi" and having zero experience where kendo practices were involved, he had the impression that the bratty kid was whacking this air for amusement!
"Pei, Yahiko," he called out. When he didn't get any reply, he tried again, "Yahiko-CHAN!" This time, it half-worked. Yahiko turned to him and replied. "Can't… talk… now…"
"Are you learning how to hit a piñata?" Sanosuke asked. Yahiko merely glared at him and turned away, muttering something about having to "beat the crap outta Ugly".
The former Zanza snorted and continued looking for the kitchen. Kids… they were always the same; fill of starry-eyed aspirations and fantasies about being the next David and Goliath, with nothing to dampen their hopes.
Weren't you like that once? A voice piped up in his head. Sanosuke merely growled and shoved away that thought from his mind.
I wasn't so lucky to be playing with thin air when I was ten.
…
Himura Kenshim, resident rurouni of the Kamiya Dojo, sat down on the floor and leaned against the pole in his favourite pose. His face appeared peaceful with the exception of the twin scars etched onto his cheek.
Sakura petals are at their loveliest when they disperse to the earth…
"Kenshin." Kaoru's voice broke into his day dream about Sakura petals. The young girl appeared a little troubled. "Hai, Kaoru-dono?" Kenshin moved a little to make space for her.
The kendo teacher sat down next to him. "Sasnosuke asked if I could keep his Zanbatou… you know, the one you broke that time?" she began hesitantly.
Kenshin nodded. "Go on," he prompted, curious at what she had to say.
"Well, he was a member of the Seikihou Army… and he saw his own mentor getting killed… and that day when you both fought… something seemed to churn within him…"
His expression grew serious. "I see." He said finally, after a moment of silence. His scarlet bangs hung lazily over his dark amethyst eyes which bored right into her.
"What I mean is, he's only a year older than me and I feel as if I'm talking to someone ten years older… no offence, Kenshin. But sometimes he's so happy-go-lucky as if nothing happened to him at all. I don't know… maybe he's just hiding it." Kaoru blurted, out, not really understanding what she was talking about. "You know how it is… certain people hide their true emotions… and then they do something to try and erase the pain… some times they may even get too depressed to do anything and then they stop eating all together…"
Just then, as if on cue, Sanosuke appeared behind them. "Who's skipping meals?" he asked, puzzled. Right not, he was contentedly finishing up a bean bun.
"Er, nothing." Muttured Kaoru, slightly embarrassed. "Did you keep your Zanbatou?" she asked in a bid to change the subject.
"The former Zanza dropped his gaze. "Yeah, I did." he mumbled. An awkward silence fell upon the trio as neither spoke a word.
Finally, Sanosuke spoke. "Excuse me."
Kaoru looked at him. "What?" she asked.
He indicated the dorrway in which she was standing right smack in the middle.
"Are you trying to say that I'm fat?" the kendo teacher snapped, more than slightly offended.
Sanosuke tried hard not to laugh. "Yahiko's words, not mine." He replied. He hastily made his exit before the volcano erupted.
…
The town market, further into the heart of Tokyo, formally known as Edo, was abuzz with activity. Hawkers shouted out their wares and prices. Customers haggled over the cost of goods.
It spelt utter chaos, but for someone like the one many called "Zanza", it had woven into his life and he learnt to live with its noises until it became his nightly lullaby.
The nineteen-year old pushed through the crowd, narrowly avoided getting hit by a hefty sack of rice being piled up onto a cart, rounded a corner, and then stepped into a congested, dirty little alley. The smell that came from the clogged up, un-sealed drains was enough to drive anyone away.
So why did he go there anyway?
It was the only place where he and his buddies could meet, and besides they had no other place, not while the dirty Meiji government was there to push them down in the dirt. He might as well get used to the place; he could be staying there soon if he couldn't come afford another month's rent. No hamr done, anyhow. That ditch would be proof to show all that flowery crap about "Meiji Restoration" came to nothing.
…
As soon as Sanosuke caught sight of his friends, the sour, glum expression he usually wore was replaced by a sunny, carefree disposition. He waved to his acquaintances, who gestured back eagerly, beckoning him over.
"Where's Tatsu?" he asked them, noticing an absence among them. "Oh, him," replied one, known to them as Nobu. "He's at home to tend to his wife… poor woman's taken ill again."
"Oei, Zaza!" another one greeted cheerfully, slapping Sanosuke playfully on the back. "How ya been? You were gone for so long that you died somewhere!"
Snoauske glared at him. "I told you, I don't go by that name anymore." He retorted. "And I won't die just "somewhere", you know…"
Nobu laughed heartily. "Still sore about that old thing are you?" he joked. "I told you to get rid of it. Even a farmer wouldn't use it to shovel firt."
That last remark stung in more than one way. Sanosuke tried to think of something to say, like, "I was saving it for your arse."
But he didn't get that chance. A woman who appeared to be in her twenties broke through their little gathering like a wild horse on the loose. Her hair was yanked in all directions, her white cotton yukata barely clinging to her skeleton-like frame. She tripped over a stone and fell right at Sanosuke's feet. Before he could back away, she reached out and held on to his wrist with a cold, vice-like grip. Her eyes, large and pleading, looked right into his gaze. Cold beads of sweat slid down her face as she panted heavily whilst whispering these two words:
"Help me."
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Author's Note: Well that answers the question as to whether or not it is set in an alternate reality… sadly NO, so bwahaha, we are stuck in the ancient time of the Meiji Japan. Bwahahaha. Come to think of it, I haven't written anything in A/U mode. So their might just be one in the works. –winkies-
Only three weeks into the new school year and I'm buried under a Mount Fuji of assignments and tests and tuitorials! Argh!
Hopefully, the next chapter should be up QUITE soon. Half of it's already written down but I'm too tired to think up how to finish that chapter.
Until the next update!
-grin5-
mC
