Story: 3 chapters altogether. Titled, "Unless She Believes in the Rurouni, He will die." It's long, but it's the best I found fitting XD

Author: Hikari Ja'ne

Disclaimer: No luck this time. And I'm still just starting to watch the anime; the manga I only briefed through without knowing much about the story, but I know enough to write a fanfiction ne? P

Notes: This is the first time I wrote a love story between a guy and a girl, believe it or not. This story has contents that are in the manga that isn't in the anime, like Tomoe (Kenshin's wife in which he killed during the Tokugawa). I prefer shonen-ai and yaoi, but for Rurouni Kenshin, the anime is just more fitting for a guyxgirl lol Anyways, I don't want to talk too much, excuse me for my poor English writing, I feel like I've lost my touch .. So, on to the story!

Notice: I like to use "he" or "she" only when there are just two characters involved in the scene, so don't expect too many names here and there.

Key: In Italics flashback, context will clarify.

Glossary

Kisama "You" (Impolitely)

Matte "Wait"

Ore wa "I / I am"

Anta dare "Who are you" (Impolitely)

Demo "But"

Anata wa baka "I am foolish"

Doushite "Why"

Serimasen "I'm sorry / Forgive me"

UNLESS YOU BELIEVE IN HIM, HE WILL DIE

Hitokiri Battousai.

Deep down, he knew that his infamous fame during the Bakumatsu did not diminish. It was quite controversial to have murdered countless, but to have almost died just as many times as well. There was never a time he didn't draw his sword to save his own life.

And now, his sword was drawn to save the lives of others. Ridiculous.

He was a hypocrite, now that was doubtless. Unless the crimes he committed spare the agony of his heart, he'd never truly be a pure wanderer.

But even after those days, he found a life. He submitted to his duties, a responsibility that was the least possible to honor those who died at the blood in his hands.

At least, that was what he thought.

It had been a while since he had considered a permanent shelter. Yet, this may have come to him without warning, especially at a dojo. Immunity never lasted in one place forever, although he found it touching to have called it a "home."

And right now, he didn't want to leave.

However, everything going on was against his will. Looking up at the dark sky so high and clear above his head, a serene peace accommodated his silence, feeling the cold shivers of the sakura tree behind him.

So who was he?

He grimaced.

She had never called him that before, that's certainly true, but then again, numerous other people had called him that name, not just once or twice, but everyday since the Meiji began. Nevertheless, such a strange but fitting name never bothered him once.

Hence, it shouldn't be irritating to hear her call him that name so vigorously, so nastily, haunting, and horribly cruel. For her voice, the tone of many other women sounded much more threatening.

Then why did it hurt so much? She only said it once, and he wasn't fully sure if she really meant it, but most likely, her words weren't just for jokes, especially at this time.

Especially since he had hurt her. Intentionally.

The defeating sound of the blade echoed at the mighty gasp of her scream. From the corner of his eye, a fresh color of blood dripped down the side of his face. When it flowed to the tip of his mouth, he licked it, savoring the taste that was tangled in hurt and pain. That is, because the owner of the blood was not him.

It was her. Kaoru.

He watched the heavily worn out scene of her dropping down to her knees. An arm supported her weight as her head bent down to the ground, uneven beats of panting that spurt out a good handful of blood.

Determined, she tried her best to stand up, but the wound on her shoulder would not allow her to raise an arm.

"Kisama…" a hoarse voice exclaimed.

A smile evilly spread across his face, the crimson red bangs hovering over his murderous eyes. Without hesitation, he sheathed his sword, the blade that had just deeply cut her shoulder left with bloodstains.

Swiftly, he made his way toward her, his right hand cupping her chin. The touch stiffened her and as her head lifted up, the angry eyes shot back at him.

Yet, before she could say another word, he suddenly pulled her in…

"Uh!" she yelped.

…and sealed her lips with his.

The kiss was devouring and salty, a pressure of demand accompanied with the taste of blood all mixed in. His tongue ravished the cavern of her mouth, as if seeking out her soul and locking it only within his range. His arms went around her and pulled her in close and tight, his fingers threading through the fine strands of her hair. His tongue caught hers at full and tangled, licking the kinky taste of her saliva. Deeper still, he crushed her even more, his tongue slipping down the entrance of her throat.

This was what he wanted and nothing could stop him. The lips were all his to take, all his to feed, all his to taste. There was no one else who could take her away from him.

At last, he parted, both gasping for the light of air. She struggled to release herself from his hold, which he allowed. Standing up, he smiled with satisfaction, his eyes narrowed with contempt, and headed out the door.

She, upon seeing this, would not make matters end, not until she could see his cry of defeat. "Matte!"

Halted in his tracks, he turned to see her struggling to get up. "Ore wa…" she cried. "I'm not done with you yet."

At the success of holding herself up on her feet, silence plagued the room.

"Anta dare?" she yelled.

It was so amusing that the only thing he found reasonable to do at the moment was laugh. "Ne, what kind of question is that?" he chuckled.

"I want to know who you are! Who you really are!"

He slowly walked toward her, a sorrowful light glistening in his eyes. "Demo…"

"Just answer me!" she roared, backing up against the wall.

Grinning, he mildly shook his head to rid of the hair that fell to the front. "Saa," he said as he put on the jolly mask that she had known him for so long. Eyes closed, a cheerful innocent smile plastered on his face, and his hands cupped together on his back. "Who do you think I am?"

The question caught her by surprise. "You're…you're…" she stuttered.

Upon seeing his face, she knew that she was made a fool of. This was a madman, a manslayer, a swordsman with a cold heart. His blade would slash painlessly, without regret. The one she knew before, the samurai who called himself a wanderer, a rurouni, was gone. He was not the real one, not the real kind. He was a fake. And this time, he won't ever come back. She will make sure of it.

"You're a Battousai," she stated, fists clenched until her nails that dug into her palm could pierce through her skin. "That's who you are! You're the Hitokiri Battousai!"

The words were like needles, small but deadly. And it aimed right at his heart, killing every nerve cell, every part of his memory. It ripped apart his whole face, his smile gone, the glint in his eyes vanished, until all that was left was his scar and a manslayer.

But he was not the manslayer who destroyed the lives of others; this time, he was killing himself.

Headache, he couldn't help thinking as he placed a hand firmly on his forehead.

He had lost control; he hated himself for that. He wouldn't hurt her, not the one he cared for the most. Otherwise, what just happened, he didn't understand, he didn't know. The blood, the wound, the kiss, the scar, and…her eyes…fear…

But they meant nothing to him anymore. Nothing mattered anymore, because the only thing he could quite remember the best were her words, the last few words she had just said.

What had he done?

"Kaoru…" he blinked and slowly lifted his head up to meet her eyes. What he saw shattered him. They were eyes of wolves, but weak and filled with unshed tears. And they were allied with the wind of a tornado, but all that determination only died down upon the strength of his sword.

Instantly, he spotted her shoulder, a hand clutching painfully over the injury. His eyes widened. Did I…do that?

"Kaoru-dono!"

He reached forward to touch the back of her hand, but was immediately shoved away with her wooden weapon.

"Don't touch me!" she commanded and with both hands, her swung the stick hard on his back, bringing him forcefully against the wall. Upon contact, he squinted, a small cry let out from his throat.

Inside, he knew he deserved all this.

Forgotten. What happened after that, he couldn't remember.

He closed his eyes and let the darkness conceal him, relaxing his tensions. There were so many things he wanted to ask, so many things he wanted to know, so many things he wanted to tell her. But that was done for.

Maybe he should have told her first, but this thought had been ignored due to his fear or rejection. The answer would most likely have been embarrassingly depressed; he had expected nothing more from her. Yet, time has gone by so long, and so quickly. The thought that she doesn't feel the same way became more and more assured inside his heart. And it hurt.

It hurt until he lost control of himself.

Is it wrong? Is it wrong to love a person?

Maybe it was not for him, not for the Hitokiri Battousai. Love was not meant for him, he should have learned that when Tomoe died, her heart slashed with his very own sword. And this time, he almost killed Kaoru.

"Anata wa baka," he muttered. He should have learned since Tomoe's incident, that love was not meant for the life of a Battousai.

It never was. And it never will be.

She clenched her teeth and threw the pillow right over her desk, toppling the books off the edge of the desk. Madness overwhelmed her pretty nature. The thought of what had just happened, of what he had just done, broke apart everything.

"Doushite!" she sobbed, punching the crumpled blanket on the floor. "Doushite…"

She didn't know how to act. Right before her eyes, she saw the line of blood trickling down his lips, but surprisingly, his nose didn't bleed. Most people whom she attacked seemed to have more dignity to fall than to stand up and resist.

But then again, this was Kenshin, the former Hitokiri Battousai. A wooden stick couldn't possibly defeat him.

So that was why, it shocked her to see him slide down the height of the wall, and crouching over the handle of a chair for support as he sat down, leaning at a corner.

"K-Kenshin?"

Although her fear lagged her hesitation to approach the man, she gradually made her way across the room, only to stop a few steps before him.

What she saw stunned her.

Tears were humbly falling down his cheeks and his bangs were lowered to cover the hurt in his eyes, watery and sweaty. His teeth were mashed against his lips, biting down so strong that it oozed blood. A small whimper could almost be heard from his coughs, but it was evident he was trying to conceal the current state he was in then.

For a moment, she wanted to comfort him, hold him, and wash his wounds, just like she had always done before. But immediately, she defied the thought, after coming to the sense of how he had just hurt her.

"Kaoru…dono…"

At the sound of his voice, she almost flinched, but kept herself steady as she nodded to reassure him her attention. A part of her wanted him to lift his head up, to clear his face of the blood mixed with his and hers, but apparently, he solely refused to do so.

He smiled, but this time, not the kind that threatened to slay her. This was one of care, love, pain, hurt, and grievance all at the same time. "Serimasen."

A flash. And then, he was gone.

Anger flooded her mind as she punched the legs of her table.

Baka, she thought. He was right there, the Hitokiri Battousai, but she was just too weak.

"Why didn't I…? Why didn't I…just…?" she blinked and stared into empty space at coming to the realization of what she was about to say next.

"…kill him?"

Author's Notes: Critique! How was this? I've already got the whole story written, basically, and I was thinking about making it oneshot, but it came out 15 pages lol P So I divided it up and now, I did some revisions as well XD The writing got somewhat crappy, fluffy stuff isn't my thing anyhow. Still, I haven't wrote for so long, so I probably got degraded somehow lol P Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this!

Next up: Preview Portion

At the verge of screaming at herself, she dug her nails into her pillow. "I don't pity him," she scowled. "I-I just…I just want…"

I just want Kenshin back, not the Battousai.

Not the manslayer.

Just Kenshin…just him…

But a part of her knew, a part of her knew, yet denied, that the two were one and the same. He would always be Kenshin, yet he would always be the Battousai as well. One man with two souls, two sides, in which one will protect and the other would kill.

The last of what Sanosuke said, it didn't quite soothe her.

"Unless you believe in him, he will die."

He will die…?