Ratings: Mature for Blood, Violence, and Adultery Implications.

Pairings: None as of this chapter

Summary: When a misfortune left Elizabeth Midford abandoned in another country. Ill luck and destiny collaboration forced her to meet with Hiko Seijuro XIII and pushed her onto the new path… But is this bloody path her future?

Disclaimer: I don't own Rurouni Kenshin or Black Butler.


The Spring of Ansei 3rd.

The river had gushed along its path like a stream of white snakes rushing for years in Japan. Its endless flow had, over time, worn the stones nestled in its backs and underneath its waters. The river had dried up as time passed, but the rocks remained. A man in a white cape sat on one of these smooth stones. He was contemplating. He looked up into the night sky, the full moon glowing against the velvety blackness of the night.

The man sighed. Illness is everywhere in this era… This world, country, and its people are ridden with disease. He thought as he drank his sake. So much so the moon looks down in disgust as if this world is sickened. He closed his eyes as he continued his walk.

Elsewhere a man named Hideo screamed into the caravan as the cart's wheels pressed flowers down as it trundled along a field. Near the caravan, a young foreign girl with blonde hair, in a light and dark green striped kimono and gray obi, stared tiredly through crystal emerald eyes at the brightly colored wooden top in her hands.

There is no cure for this disease.

The little girl awkwardly bent down and picked up the crushed flower that had been uprooted from the ground due to the cart she was walking next to. She looked up at the red-haired boy beside her and looked back at the small flower in her hand. After a moment of deliberations, she pulled the boy's kimono slightly. When the boy turned his head toward her, she gestured for the boy around her age to kneel.

The little girl then gently put the flower in her friend's red hair. After all, flowers were meant to be placed in something beautiful like the boy beside her. Not someone dirty like her.

The smell of blood is as familiar as the smell of white plums. Death no longer terrifies man, so he creates slavery and savagery, which surpass the horror of death. It can only be fought with bloodshed, and the cycle never ends.

While the little girl didn't understand the boy entirely due to her inability to understand his language, she knew that the boy had many worries. Like being owned. Like a kettle. Or a bucket.

Even if a person of incredible strength were to arise, they would not stop the inevitable.

Even though she wanted to protect her friend, she was too weak to protect him, let alone herself. She knew what would happen if she retaliated against Hideo and the leaders of Caravan. The bruises in her hands and legs with a nauseous feeling in her body and heart already answered it.

They would be able to do nothing.

Remembering that night, she was glad that her fiancée had never – and would never, now - know what she experienced that night. Ciel had been excellent, a treasure, and he deserved so much more than a dirty person like her… No... Everyone deserves more than her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder as she looked up toward a beautiful woman in black hair who smiled at her. The smile was gentle yet solemn. Though it was a simple smile, it was enough to comfort the little foreign girl as tears flowed from her eyes.

The black-haired girl Hideo loved and called Kasumi was like her mother to the little foreign girl.

It had been months since the little foreign girl last saw her mother—a whole season. But seeing the older girl, Kasumi, who smiled like mother… made her feel like her mother was here with her. And despite the yelling of people behind them, the little foreign girl cried into Kasumi's hands.

Unknown to them, a blood-stained blade gleamed in the moonlight, and greedy eyes locked on the caravan passing through the plains. Then clouds cut off the moon's light, throwing the world into darkness.

This world is headed for destruction.


Screams cut through the night air, telling a tale of terror and suffering. Bandits, bloodthirsty men with nothing in their hearts but greed, cut down the caravan members with no concern for the lives they were taking.

Screams and chaos filled the air. Feet ran, pounding the road as the members of the caravans ran for their lives, to no avail. A man was cut down from shoulder to hip; another's head was driven through with a spear. A woman was skewered and thrown to the side of the road. The blood seeps through the folds of her obi sash, taking her life with it.

One of the bandits sneered to himself as he cut through a man in a peasant's gi and hakama and laughed as the man fell on the grass, staining it with his lifeblood. Weaklings, all of them. Is there no one here to give me a challenge? He was different from the rest of the bandits by one central point – all the other band members wanted to see was gold. All he wanted to see was blood.

Weak, weak, weak. Is there no one here to give me a little sport! He thought as he cut down a boy with red hair when he heard a yelling sound from the forest. He followed the sound, and he grinned widely.

It was a foreigner… A foreigner that took his land from him. A little blonde girl with emerald eyes and three black-haired harlots. Though he was sure that the little foreigner was a harlot herself, alas, she was a foreigner… Heh, maybe I could get a little sport after all. Bloody visions dancing in his head, he headed for the girls, who immediately ran when they saw him running toward them.

Panting, Kasumi dragged the little girl with her and followed the older sisters, Akane and Sakura, as they dashed across the field to the forest. Shouts, screams… behind them. But, they didn't dare look back. And after every scream, there were fewer voices left.

Kasumi's grip was so tight on her wrist that it hurt, and she really couldn't see anything but her black hair and kimono-clad back. Then Akane fell, and they, too, stopped for a brief moment. Kasumi started to yell before hiccupping and coming to a stop.

Akane's leg had twisted.

She cried as she tried to rise and stand but fell and tried again… and then Sakura came back to them and tried to help her up.

Kasumi let go of her wrist and went to help them, too.

The girl turned to look back and saw— A scary man with a sword was running towards them, and seeing the girls' distress, slowed down to a prowling walk. Mouth widening to a grin. She was shivering. Fear and helplessness drowned her as she looked around… There! A Sword! The little girl immediately crouched down and picked the bloody sword up with both hands.

The sounds of footsteps and heavy breathing were growing nearer.

The girl didn't want to look up because she knew what she would see. Her arms don't have any strength due to fear, and deep down in her head, she could hear the voices of Hideo and other scary men… Then she listened to the sound of a blade rose and she closed her eyes.

A wave of terror rose; she wouldn't be able to protect—Warm hands surrounded her. Pulled her back. The little girl fell into the soft embrace and let the useless sword drop from her hands. It was Kasumi who held her… With a scream, Sakura ran towards the ugly man.

The sword slashed.

Sakura fell and didn't rise.

With her twisted leg, Akane tried to rise to stop the man. She couldn't, so she begged him, "Please, spare this child, please, I beg of you!" The little girl saw the sword slash Akane into two.

"Don't look!" Kasumi whispered into her ears, but the little girl couldn't close her eyes. "Please, don't look…" Kasumi pushed her to the ground and fell on top of her, covering the little girl with her body. She looked up at Kasumi's face.

Her lips were almost bloodless. But her voice was low. Like her mother's… "Elizabeth… I know that you might not understand what I said… Know this you are just a child. You have not chosen your life like we have been able to. You cannot die now. You must live. Live a full life for the sake of those that died here tonight-" The scary man lifted Kasumi by her hair. Her eyes were dark and wide and scared.

Tears fell across her cheeks as Elizabeth looked at Kasumi with mixed sadness and fear. Kasumi looked at Elizabeth as she smiled gently, "Elizabeth… Please live." The bandit sneered and raised his sword and then, with one swift movement, thrust it through Kasumi's neck. The little girl gasped as Kasumi placed her trembling hands on the sword now covered in blood.

The black-haired girl's mouth formed words that could barely be heard, "Please live…" The bandit ripped his sword away and dropped Kasumi, who fell on a heap. Like one would drop a kettle. Or a bucket. Or a slave.

Kasumi's lips that had spoken like mothers didn't move anymore.

Elizabeth froze, still in shock, but he didn't know why. They were all dead, again. And like that, the duchess of the Midford family was alone.

The scary man walked towards her and raised his sword.

The little girl looked up to him and didn't feel scared anymore. She didn't feel anything.

This is it… She didn't want to be alone again. Was there anything else she could have done? She was tired and just wanted this to end… Maybe it would be okay. The sword didn't hit her. Instead, the man turned to look behind him. And yelled a horrible word. And asked who it was.


He was too late. He'd seen it the moment he'd arrived and witnessed one of the bandits cut down a woman. And the fact that there were more women dead around her just confirmed it. They were all young and pretty –, and those were usually protected. The only reason they wouldn't have been as if no one was left to defend them.

The little girl must be the only one to have survived the caravan. And she was about to be murdered in cold blood, just like her sisters.

He would not allow that to happen. And so he drew his sword. And, five minutes later, the bandit was in five pieces along the ground, and the rest of his gang was soon following. The last thing they heard was his answer to their question. "You won't be alive long enough to remember my name." He said as he turned his eyes toward the little girl and gasped a little.

There was blood all over the girl.

The man in a white coat flinched almost imperceptibly. She was young, about six or seven, he guessed and had enormous eyes and very pale skin. Pale skin that was currently splattered with blood. The blood he had spilled. A child…an innocent…covered in blood he'd spilled… 'The sword of Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu is swung to prevent the shedding of innocent blood….' He shook himself out of his thoughts with the mental reminder that the blood wasn't innocent.

It had belonged to the bandits that had just slaughtered a caravan and busied himself in wiping his sword clean with a piece of rice paper. Eventually, he looked up. The child hadn't moved, not even to blink, simply sitting there, staring motionlessly at the dead bodies.

Shock, he supposed. It would make sense seeing as she had just had everyone she cared about ripped away. Perhaps he could get her to get moving, break out of it, or else she might simply give up and let herself die. He'd seen it before, but… he didn't want to see it again. Not with this little girl, who had barely even begun to live.

He stifled a sigh and began to speak, "I don't know why I happened by this place... But, I suppose it was fate." He sheathed his sword and looked down at the girl. "Kid... Be glad I did – I took care of your revenge. However, bearing a grudge against these men will not bring your loved ones back. Let your survival be their memorial, and revel in the fact that you are alive. Go to the nearby village – surely they will be able to help you." She still hadn't moved, not even reacting to his voice.

There was nothing he could do, not when she was so far gone. He'd come back in a week or so, see if she'd gone to the village, and if she hadn't…well, then he supposed he'd just do what the man in white coat always did.

Bury the bodies.

He turned away and started walking. The shifting of clothes brought him up short. He began to turn and was halfway around when he heard the whisper, so soft that anyone else wouldn't have been able to make it out. "Rainmaker…" The man in a white coat blinked. Maybe he'd heard wrong, but… no, his hearing was incredibly sharp. He turned and saw the girl standing up from her place as she looked down.

Elizabeth's lips parted, "In the play, Father and Mother loved to take me… When they were describing the scenes of great battles… They used to say that 'and a rain of blood fell,' but you, you made it rain…" Her voice faded to a whisper. "Rain…of blood…" The man in a white coat narrowed his eyes upon hearing the girl's explanation.

Rainmaker. So that's what she meant. Now he sort of wished he didn't know. Figures. Her soft voice brought him out of his thoughts again. "You…avenged…" Her voice firmed, "Thank you." She said as she bowed down, a deep bow, with her eyes fixed on the ground. She didn't say anything more before he left. Neither did he.

But she was still bowed as he left the clearing that had been the sight of the tragedy… And the only ones to notice the soft droplets on the ground in front of her were the dead.


The moon was bright and round.

Elizabeth was alone. Alone in a field filled with dead people.

It was quiet. She wanted Kasumi. She wanted Akane. She wanted Sakura. She wanted her friend. Her useless legs didn't feel steady enough for walking, so she crawled on the ground that had become wet and muddy from all the blood.

Kasumi lay there dead, with a wound in her throat and empty open eyes. Hesitantly, Elizabeth reached to touch her cool skin. It was clammy. It didn't feel anything like before. She didn't even look like Kasumi anymore. She was just a dead body.

Elizabeth's fingers clenched into a fist in her kimono, and the little girl buried her face in the dirty, bloody cloth. It wasn't fair. She had just found her. Just dared to hope for— A high screeching wail rose from deep in her chest, and she tried to stop it. It hurt, it hurt so much... She breathed in the odd musky scent that was lingering on her clothes, trying to find comfort from her empty shell.

She, too, had left her alone.

Elizabeth didn't know how long she lay there, but the coldness was starting to creep on her after the moment had passed. The damp cloth didn't keep warmth at all; her knees hurt, and Kasumi's body couldn't give her anything anymore.

She sniffled, then gave it up and wiped her nose with her sleeve. It wasn't right. Nothing was right in the world anymore. Kasumi had been her mother, a second mother—but a mother still. So, she decided to do what she saw grown up in her country do to dead people.

Dig a grave.

Because dead people went into graves, even a girl around her age knew that.

So… She cupped her hands and started digging.

It didn't take but a couple of drags of the muddy ground to discover that Elizabeth's hands were not good at digging at all. Under the thin surface of the mud, the ground was packed hard. But she gritted her teeth and kept at it with the sheer stubborn will.

Sand and sharp pieces of gravel slid under her nails. Elizabeth's fingers kept hitting odd lumps, roots, and stones. It was tiring work and really, really slow.

When Elizabeth finally paused a bit to look at what she had managed to get done, she started to realize that it wasn't that simple. The hole in the ground that was supposed to be a grave for Kasumi was shallow. One couldn't bury a chicken in it. And her fingertips were bleeding next to her nails, full of scratches from his efforts.

It wouldn't work like this.

Not well enough.

Idly, Elizabeth sucked her bleeding fingertips and mulled over her problem. The moonlight covered the clearing, and across it, on the road, were the caravan wagons. They had walked next to them all these weeks, stopping every night to eat from supplies the wagons carried… Her eyes widened.

That was it! There had to be something he could use for digging in the caravan. So she clambered up and started his way across the massacre site. Walking through the field with its high wet grass and dead bodies littered around was nasty.

Don't look down, don't think –walk. The abandoned caravan was scary. There was no one there, just dead bodies and hastily discarded stuff that some of the girls had been carrying. Elizabeth swallowed and closed her eyes… The foodstuff had been in the middle wagons, other supplies at the tail end of the caravan.

It felt terrible to search the wagons. Elizabeth kept expecting someone to jump out yelling and hit her for sticking her nose where it didn't belong. After all, the slaves hadn't been allowed near them. She had seen the scary man Hideo hit one of the girls for doing just that.

After quite a lot of searching in the pitch-black darkness of a covered wagon, She found a shovel. The blonde girl had seen men use it to dig latrines.

It would do.


Hiko wandered down the path lit by the setting sun, thinking. The man at the village had said that nothing had passed through the town recently – not even a cat, let alone a small girl. He sighed. She'd probably despaired of the world and killed herself after what she had seen - it wasn't uncommon.

The teachings of Hiten-Mitsurugi guide my sword. Yet when all is said and done, a sword is a tool of destruction, not salvation. Many times, I cannot use it to save even one person's life. Not one living soul, as it would seem to be this time. He sighed as he pushed away from the last of the hanging branches and prepared to enter the scene of slaughter. The bodies had been there for a few days so that it wouldn't be pretty. It is enough that I bury the victims' corpses, I suppose. That is the only way I can maintain what humanity I have left.

He walked out into the blinding sun, but he did not shield his eyes as they widened. Where before there had been dead bodies lying splayed on a blood-spattered ground, now there were crosses, monuments to the dead, stretched out across the clearing.

It was a bizarre sight.

Who marked graves with crosses? Not proper people! Maybe it was some weird foreign thing? He wandered through them, the setting sun illuminating everything with an orange color, and stopped at the end of the makeshift graveyard. And there, almost at the same spot where he had left the broken child… the same kid stood staring at three graves marked with round stones.

He noticed things then that he hadn't seen in the dark, such as that the hair that had seemed so oddly pale in the dark was blonde and that her kimono was of excellent make and hakama pants. Hmm, that was unusual – the peasants didn't bother with such clothing, preferring to dress their progeny in cheap fabrics and easily replaceable robes. But the quality of cloth and its cut were subtly poor for a samurai's child. The seams were clumsy. The wrinkles were too few to represent the seven virtues; not a mistake any honorable seamstress would make.

A foreigner's mistake?

Hiko's eyes took in her hands, hands that were scraped raw and bleeding, with the nails torn and dirt and splinters encrusted in the cuts. The makeshift graveyard; that the girl hadn't gone to the village; her hands… it all pointed to one thing. But what kind of person would have the sheer grit to bury all those people single-handed, without any food or water. Especially if that person was only a little girl?

"I notice that you have made graves for bandits as well as your family." It was a simple observation, but it let the kid know that he was there. Hiko wasn't sure the kid was aware of his surroundings and didn't intend to cause a scare. The last thing he wanted was to chase the object of his curiosity through the forest.

The kid didn't react, just kept staring ahead. A moment of silence, then she answered in a soft, hoarse voice. "They were slave traders. Not my family." A small, quiet, gentle voice whispered in a foreign language… English. Thankfully a man like Hiko Seijuro understands it from the foreigner he saved. "I was sold to them after my relatives died from Joui Patriots attacks. After they died, there were no bandits, enslaved people, or slavers. Just dead bodies." Her voice dropped. "Dead is dead after all."

Hiko sighed, "Yes…" He nodded and paused for a moment in contemplation. "Dead is dead." He answered in English. The kid's voice was soft and clear, the words delivered without emotion. Like the girl was left empty of feeling. That was a bad sign. But still… the meaning behind those words was pure.

Simple. Devoid of anger or hate, the swordsman kept expecting to hear. No. Those words were almost beautiful in their simple form. "What are those stones for?" He asked, curious despite himself. If all the people the girl had buried were the same, it followed that these graves that were marked different would mean more to him.

Elizabeth looked at the graves, "Shinta, Kasumi-san, Akane-san, and Sakura-san. I only knew them for a few days, but they protected me as if I was their own. I wanted to protect them, but I'm just a little girl. But because of that, they're gone. They died protecting me. They said, 'Please, spare the child'." She lowered her head, clenching her dirty hands.

The man's face grew thoughtful. "I wanted their graves to be beautiful, so I wanted good stones. All I could find were these ugly rocks, but it's the best I can do. I wish I could have found flowers. They all deserve flowers." He hesitated more. Could this child be the one? But he'd never even thought about his successor being a girl.

Would this little girl be able to handle the burden of taking other people's lives? Of having the best sword style in Japan at her fingertips? For that matter, would she even be able to handle the training? It was hellish. But… He had to know, "What are you going to do now? You've buried them all. Are you going to go to the village?" She paused, thinking a moment, then shook her head. "Then what?"

Elizabeth considered the stones before her a moment, then started to speak slowly and haltingly. "I don't know what I'm going to do. Kasumi's last words were for me to live… So... I will live… And live it the way I want to…" She said as Hiko raised his eyebrows.

Hiko wants to know the answer, so he asks, "What do you want to do?" And much to Hiko's surprise, that blank emerald eyes suddenly filled a determination. A little, but that's a determination.

Elizabeth opened her mouth, "I…want…to protect people and to help them. I couldn't do it before… I was too weak. I couldn't help my family; I couldn't protect the girls and my friend. But I want to be able to. I want to become strong, so no one will ever feel this kind of pain. I want to be strong so that I can protect the people precious to me, my precious people…." She trailed off.

Almost on their own volition, his treacherous feet took a step forward. Hiko exhaled, and a decision made, walked to the gravestones while uncorking his sake. It was the excellent sort he had bought from the Temple that was his Master's final resting place. It was only proper in every way – Hiko's decision, but it would also signify the old bastard's approval in this small way.

Elizabeth looked at him, startled. "What are you-"? She was cut off as he started to pour the sake on the biggest stone in the middle, the liquid coursing down the sides and onto the others, then down to the ground.

He answered her question; "No one should reach Nirvana without the taste of good sake on his lips. This is my tribute to them." The girl felt like she wanted to cry as she opened her mouth. "My name is Hiko Seijuro. I'm an intermittent swordsman." Hiko said, cutting her.

She lowered her eyes to the ground—a samurai. "Listen, you were unable to protect the lives of the women who took care of you. Now your inner-self is laden with their memories. Your small hands can attest to the weight of their lifeless bodies. However, you will learn that their memories are heavier, and carrying them will make you stronger. This strength will be your defense and aid you in protecting that which is truly important, but this can only happen if you are properly trained. Tell me your name."

Elizabeth blinked. Why would a strong samurai want her name, and what was this about training? Confused and blanked, she spoke, "Elizabeth… Elizabeth Midford…" Hiko sighed upon hearing Elizabeth's name.

Hiko patted Elizabeth's head, "With that foreign name like that, you will never cut it." He snorted as Elizabeth blinked in confusion. "That name is too soft and sweet for a swordswoman." She immediately looked at Hiko. She hesitated, uncertain if she had heard right. A swordswoman? Her?

Hiko looked at the grave, and he nodded, "From now on, your name is Kenshin." Heart and Sword. Heart of the Sword. It would suit a girl like her – better than anything else. She brought her eyes up once more and repeated what he had said hesitantly, "Ken…Shin?"

"Ah." Hiko looked up at the sky. The girl had a lot of potential, but it would take a lot of hard work to bring it out. A sudden gust of wind blew, ruffling their hair, one as yellow as the sun above, the other as black as the ravens who flew in it. "I have found myself a pupil. Consider yourself… Fortunate."


When I read the chapter about Easter, the idea came to me that Elizabeth jumped up to the chandelier to hide Easter's egg. This can be a one-shot or a series depending on the reception. The next one-shot involves Negima or High School DxD with One Piece or Dragon Ball Z. It will happen in a week. But I hope you will like this (for now) one-shot of Elizabeth as Himura Kenshin.

Thank you and I hope all of you have a nice day!