Chapter I
The Mysterious, Forbidden Well
Everything you can imagine is real
Pablo Picasso
Asakusa was busy. Sometimes it was manageable but at rush hour, like most places in Tokyo, it was hellish. The streets were swarmed with black umbrellas, moving as if they were a dark, ominous sea. Taxis, cars and buses were packed together, horns blaring.
Black loafers squished slightly as they moved along the sidewalk; a navy umbrella was held unsteadily, while a pale hand tried to heave a heavy bag further up a shoulder; a black ponytail swished in the wind and blue eyes sparkled with annoyance.
What is the damn point in having a weather forecast saying it's gonna be 'sunshine all day', when it's like this? Torrential bloody rain!
Kaoru grimaced and weaved in and out of the crowds, which was getting increasingly difficult. The rain had picked up at lunch time and it still hadn't let out. Mr. Narita, her math teacher, had turned out to be her saviour however, having lent her his umbrella for the journey home.
Thank God for Math teachers, crumby subject though. Kaoru sidestepped a businessman, who was seemingly on a mission. Jerk...
Her skirt and blouse were soaked through. The stupid, skimpy jacket could hardly protect her from the elements. At least Hibiya High didn't require the girls to wear sailor outfits. Kaoru had worn one in junior high school and had no desire to repeat the experience.
I would have been out of Hibiya faster than they could say sailor. Then again, these aren't much better, she glanced at her own outfit, If I'd known what the weather was gonna be like, I would have worn pants! The school rules can go to hell-
Someone pushed past her; her shoulder taking the brunt of the impact.
"Hey Bozo!" she yelled unabashedly. She was ready to follow the guy and procure an apology but the crowds were dense and there was hardly space for her to turn around. Sighing, she left it and was once again swept away.
She was crossing the main junction; it had taken forever for the traffic lights to change.
A puddle was splashed up her leg by a passing car, after she had crossed the street. The muddy water trailed down her knee and coloured her previously white soak, causing Kaoru to shiver in reaction. She cursed inwardly. What she would give for some damn pants-
White hakama and a navy gi...
Her breath caught in her throat and her pace slowed. She distantly heard the muttered annoyance from people as they stepped around her. She held the umbrella close to her chest. The patter of rain hitting off the plastic was heard. Her pale face was illuminated by the neon signs for Sony and Panasonic and other nameless companies that were stretched across the skyscrapers and buildings above her. The blaring horns had risen to a cacophony that blocked everything else out.
After history class, she'd gone about her day. She'd met up with the girls and they'd gone to McDonalds for lunch before the rain got bad. She'd had her usual Big Mac and had half-listened to their conversation. This was mostly about what exams they were convinced they were going to fail and what boy had the bad luck of being their fixation for the day. With the added bonus of Yuka's plans for the play, of course. Afterwards, they'd headed back to school for a double period of Math.
Kaoru blinked. Oh, get a grip.
She started walking again, cutting off from the busy street, and into a back road that only someone who had lived in the area their entire life would have been able to find easily. The streets here were suddenly closer together and were lined with small traditional stalls selling a variety of items to the curious tourists who were scattered around the stalls. With ease, Kaoru twisted through the people and made her way to the other end of the street, passing the entrance that would lead to the Sensoji Temple.
She ran over the last few minutes of the conversation in her mind as she passed the various shops and stalls on the lantern-lit streets of Asakusa. Why did Mrs Shimizu warn her against getting obsessed with Battousai? Why her and not the newly-discovered fanatics in the class? Maybe she had an invisible sticker on her head saying, "WARNING! All long-dead Assassins must keep out of the vicinity of this weirdo as she has obsessive and stalkerish tendencies."
She walked swiftly past the sakura trees that lined the banks of the Sumida River. Instead of pink petals covering the trees, there were green leaves. The blossoms had been and gone a few months ago. A cool wind blew from the direction of the river and Kaoru's legs shivered.
"Gods, I could really do with the Battousai's hakama around about now..." She muttered lowly. Comically, she glanced around, hoping that Yuka wasn't in the vicinity. The coast was clear however, and Kaoru sighed. Glad that the girl wasn't nearby to take the comment the wrong way, she wiped the imaginary sweat from her brow with her free hand. Shouldering her bag a bit more, Kaoru continued on her journey. Her lingering mantra followed behind her, unconsciously harmonising with the trickling current of the river that swirled just below her.
I am not a fan-girl. I am not a fan-girl.
..o..
Kaoru had eventually arrived at the dojo's front gates. It was on the very edge of the district that was once the entertainment capital of Tokyo. Not exactly a bad neighbourhood but not a good one either. She fiddled with her belongings; eventually dumping her bag and umbrella on the ground. She pressed in the security code on the gate. They'd got the system installed last summer after there was a series of break-ins nearby. The light, which was previously red, shined green and a slight buzz was heard. Kaoru's brow twitched as the gate remained shut.
Either her grandfather had changed the code again or the gate was being dodgy.
Kaoru smirked and kicked the gate, hard; it swung open.
Feeling triumphant, she grabbed her umbrella and flung the bag over her shoulder again. She glanced at the old sign at the side of the gate and the odd feeling of nostalgia bubbled up within her stomach. It was a familiar sensation to her; it happened every time she saw the sign. For a while she thought it was a reminder of her father but the feeling had always been there. Shaking her head, she reached over and traced the words with a finger.
The Kamiya Dojo- The Kamiya Kasshin Style
She smiled slightly, pushing away her small bout of nostalgia. She was home.
Pushing the gate shut, she turned and was greeted by the sight of the familiar sky blue Suzuki parked in the drive. It was to be hers whenever she learned to drive. She winked at it, before hurrying over to the front door of the dojo. She twirled the excess rain from her umbrella as she stood on the porch, closed it and let herself into the house.
A pair of shoes was kicked off in her wake
..o..
Flicking the wet strands of dark hair out of her face, Kaoru sighed happily. It was good to be home. She dumped her bag and umbrella in the hallway and hung her school jacket up; raindrops from the material dropped onto the wooden floor. The living area of the dojo was relatively warm, well as warm as living with about fifteen shoji screens can be. The central heating did wonders. Ever since her father had died three years ago, it had just been the four of them. But they made do. What else could they do?
Judging from the sounds in the house; her mother was in the kitchen, her grandfather was in the sitting room (most probably getting drunk on sake) and her brother was in his room - doing whatever nine year old boys do.
Perfect. Now all I have to do is get to the bathroom and have that shower.
Yes, Kaoru was one of those girls who spent hours in the shower; emptying the dojo's hot water supply and probably the rest of Tokyo's as well. Her thoughts were interrupted however by a certain, drunken old man.
"Kaoru, my girl! Where've you been? It's late!"
Refusing the urge to growl, Kaoru sighed and spun around.
"Oh hey, Gramps! Well, you know me! Always do like to dawdle my way through Asakusa in the pouring rain!" She smiled deviously and lifted a finger, as if she had just thought of an idea, "Now, if I could drive that car out there-"
"Not until your 18th birthday, young lady and no earlier!"
The finger and hand dropped back to her side. 'Damn, not drunk enough yet.'
"Kaoru, is that you?" Her mother called from the kitchen.
Looking away from the old man, she replied, "Yeah, mom it's me."
The older woman came into the hallway.
"Hello, dear," she greeted and looked at her father-in-law, "Now come on, Dad. Stop annoying Kaoru and go and get your sake."
"Ahh yes, my sake..." and he tottered off.
Kaoru scratched the back of her head. "Is he going senile, mom?"
Riko Kamiya smiled and looked at the retreating back of the old man. "Well he's been that way for as long as I've known him."
The woman seemed to notice her daughter's appearance for the first time that evening. "Kaoru, you're soaked through! Go and get out of those wet clothes and put them in the laundry basket. I'm sure you have some clean pajamas in your wardrobe. Dinner will be ready by the time you're finished."
Kaoru smiled slightly and started towards her room, the shower could wait- she was sure she had smelled miso soup earlier.
Brown eyes glared at her. And she glared right back. Taking in the floppy black hair, clenched fists and the small snarl his mouth was making. The bane of her existence; her brother, Souta Kamiya.
"It's your turn to do the dishes and that's final, Souta!"
"But it's such a girl's job, please mom, make Kaoru do it!"
An eyebrow twitched. The rugrat had pulled himself away from his playstation for the whole of two minutes to gulp down his soup and now he thought she was going to clean up after him? What a pig...
"Souta, just do it! It's your turn, even check the Rota!"
"Not my problem that I can't read your messy handwriting!" Was his smart comeback.
"Shut up, you little monster! I'll wipe your face on that dojo floor, tomorrow!"
"Keh, like to see you try, loser!"
Kaoru's fist clenched. Their mother interrupted however.
"Okay, okay. Calm down. Souta it's your turn to do the dishes but I'll help you, ok?" He nodded. "Kaoru, don't threaten your little brother...and your handwriting's fine."
Kaoru sniffed and walked past Souta, smirking evilly.
Tomorrow... she thought; a deadly promise.
Kaoru padded past her grandfather, who was sitting by the low table in the sitting room, happily swigging sake. Her thoughts about her oncoming shower were disturbed once again.
"Kaoru..."
No slur...the sign of an experienced alcoholic...
"Kaoru, is there something..." He hiccupped, "bothering you?"
She stopped for a moment, looking down at her cold, bare feet. I wonder...
The old man had always told her and Souta stories of times bygone. Not that they ever listened. However, they were always of the past, that one thing she was certain of. Sometimes, they were fairytales; like the story of Izanami and Izanagi. Whereas sometimes, they were about things more closer to home.
One time, he had told them that the dojo was built upon the remains of a shrine, which was a bit far-fetched but there was the well-house to consider.
Ah yes, the well-house. It was a pretty thing. Well, pretty for a shack. It sat behind the storage building. They had never been in it however. Something about the estate agent telling her father and grandfather that there were restless spirits about. That's what they call a pitch? Anyway, her dad bought the place but the old man had taken the rumour to heart and so no one ever went in. Well, he never went in because of that. No one else did because the old geezer had pad locked the door and the key hung around his neck. Superstitious much?
Ok, the guy rambled a bit. So what? Kaoru was curious and seemingly she had never heard of the famous saying.
"Yeah, actually Gramps there is," she moved over and kneeled beside him, "Do you know anything about the Bakumatsu?"
His bleary eyes peered at her over the rim of his sake cup.
"Sure I do. The Revolution. Violent, dangerous time-"
"Yeah, yeah, Gramps I know all about that; we learned about it today in history. It brings me to my next question, however. Have you ever heard anything, in all your wise years, about the Battousai?"
His name was whispered. Why, she did not know. Perhaps, it was out of hope. Hope that the one person she could ask, the one person that might know anything would know what had happened to him. She looked up and realised he had his eyes downcast. He put his cup steadily onto the table, the dregs of the swirling, clear liquid sloshed against the sides slightly. He looked her in the eye. She almost fell backwards from the balls of her feet when she saw his eyes, however.
Sharp, alert and narrow. All traces of glassiness gone.
Gods, he really was good.
"The assassin, huh? Why do you ask?" He said carefully.
Kaoru blinked and thought over her response. She could still hear her brother and mother chatting while they dried the dishes. The television was on low volume in the corner. She presumed it was the weather channel, complete with a live report from a more than blown away reporter. The shoji door that led out to the yard was hammered shut but it still rattled relentlessly. Towels and blankets would probably get shoved beneath such doors to keep the drafts out later on that night.
Kaoru looked back to his stony eyes.
"Uhh we learned about him in History?" She offered with a shrug, trying to keep her voice as casual as possible.
Nodding, he brought his hand to his goatee, swirling it between his fingers, presumably thinking on his next words.
"I...know of him." Was all he said.
Opening her mouth, ready to bombard him with questions, she froze when he raised his hand.
"Hush, I shall tell you what I know. Only, because you are my granddaughter and I would never hear the end of it."
Kaoru nodded and opened her mouth again.
"I take it you are wondering about the events following the First Battle of Toba Fushimi?"
Kaoru's eyes opened wide and she nodded vigorously, bringing her knees up against her chest and wrapping her arms around her ankles. She was ready to know. She had to know.
"I first learned about him when I was just a boy. My grandfather, you see, had met the Battousai. Or so he claimed anyway. Although it was never recorded, the hitokiri lived on, indeed he did. Lived on, in this very dojo-!"
"Oh Gramps, come off it! I actually believed you there!" Kaoru laughed, at both him and herself. Him, because he was so predictable and her because she was being so gullible.
Obviously he was going to come out with something like that! It's Gramps, for God's sake.
"It is the truth! My grandfather told me that the Battousai took refuge in a dojo many years after the Bakumatsu had ended. At the time, it was owned by a beautiful young woman who was proficient in a protection sword technique. The sword technique she claimed as the Kamiya Kasshin style."
Kaoru looked at him skeptically.
"Okay, one: your grandfather met him and lived to tell the tale? Two: Dad bought this dojo a few years before I was born, so it couldn't have been our technique and three: there are plenty of dojos in Tokyo!"
The old man nodded.
"Right you are my dear, right you are. I have pondered this for many years myself. Never once did I mention this story to your father, so imagine my surprise when he invented the style. And yes, there are many dojos in Tokyo, Kaoru. But how many teach our technique?"
"One," she muttered.
"Yes. One."
Kaoru frowned. This wasn't very productive at all.
"Oh, and did I ever tell you that the name plaque by the gates was already there to begin with?" The burden of fate turned uncomfortably in Kaoru's stomach, "That it was there long before your father even dreamed of buying this dojo?"
..o..
Scalding water poured over her head and shoulders. The pressure was bruising. Her hand reached through the steam and messed with the knobs, in hope of regaining some semblance of clarity. How could it be? The old codger must have gotten it wrong, right?
"But, Dad invented that technique when he was a teenager! How could the plaque have been there already?!"
"That I do not know, my dear. But it was there. That day we first visited the Dojo, it was there. Your father thought it a fluke, but I never. Tomorrow, when it is light, look at the plaque. Look carefully in the top left hand corner and you will believe too. It means something, Kaoru. It was there for a reason..."
How could our family name and the technique already be on the plaque? It was just illogical. Sure, there could be another Kamiya family out there and it wouldn't be too out of the question for them to perhaps have owned the dojo too. But to use a technique that her father invented? No way and her father was an honorable man. He would never take another's swordsmanship and pass it off as his own.
Don't even think on it, Kamiya. And she didn't.
She could doubt many things, but she could never doubt her father. The one who gave her, her first bokken, who taught her that a sword should protect and not kill. The person who invented the Kasshin style. No, she would never doubt her father.
Now, the Battousai was another matter. She had already known that he hadn't committed seppuku as soon as he stepped of that battlefield, but to come to this dojo? That was just mad.
Scary even...
Not just because an assassin may have slept in her room...
But also incase this ever got out - the Battousai's entire fan-club would be at the door, ready to lick something. Kaoru shivered, despite the heat of the shower. That was it, this was never getting out.
After a few more minutes of soaking (that turned into half an hour), Kaoru jumped out of the shower and promptly got into her flannel pajamas. The storm was still raging outside, she had surmised. Walking over to the mirror, she kicked the damp towels out of the way. She wiped the major build-up of condensation off the mirror with her sleeve, and peered into it, beneath the bathroom's unforgiving light.
Ahh I look dead! I need to get more sleep; it must be all this cramming.
She pulled her wet, stringy hair into a wrap and brushed her teeth vigorously. Throwing the towels into the washing basket, she quickly made her way out of the bathroom and along the corridor, towards her bedroom.
The whole dojo had been refurbished when she had been born. Originally, all the buildings had been separate and her father hadn't liked the thought of them running about outside to go to the bathroom, so he called in builders to add conjoining hallways between all the buildings; except the storage building since it was hardly used.
Still, the actual bathroom was remodeled on the dojo's original bathhouse so it was still quite far away from her bedroom, at the other end of the main house. Her quick, bare footed steps slapped along the wooden floors. She heard the wind howl and she wrapped her arms around herself.
There's so much mystery shrouding this place that I never even knew about...was it really a coincidence that we learned about the Battousai and that he was once here? The latter is yet to be proved but...I guess I'll never know the truth...
It looked as if Kaoru wasn't very familiar with popular sayings at all.
She passed the shoji screens that faced onto the yard; all tucked with blankets. The rain was falling heavier than ever. Eventually getting to her door, she pulled it open with difficulty and then tripped over the blanket at her feet. Growling, she kicked the annoyance out of the way and made it into her room. The door closed behind her with a click of finality.
Breathing a sigh of relief, she replaced the blanket and undid her hair from the wrap. Moving over to her vanity, she grabbed an elastic band that was sitting on top and deftly braided her ebony hair, leaving it to hang over her right shoulder. Brushing her bangs out of her face, she promptly fell into her bed.
It was a nice bed; wide and comfy, just perfect in her opinion.
Her grandfather was the only one in the family to sleep on a futon. But she had a feeling that that was going to change with his back playing up all the time. Climbing under the sheets, she settled down and slid an arm under her head.
History is...the study of the past. Battousai the Manslayer fought in Kyoto for the Ishin-Shishi. To fuel his lust for blood and battle? She sighed and watched the changing shadows on the ceiling. No, he fought...to bring about the Meiji Era; a time of peace and prosperity for the people of Japan. Or did he?
Kaoru smiled, either way she was acing that part of the history exam. Her expression changed when she remembered that she and Souta had lessons to give the next morning.
I hate Saturdays...
Out of habit, she raised her head slightly to check that her bokken was still in the corner of the room. It was. Good.
Now, she could sleep.
..o..
Creeeaaaaaakkkk...
Her eyes shot open and she stared at the familiar surface of her ceiling. It almost seemed to calm her racing heart. Her breath, however, was still caught tightly in her throat. She looked over the covers into the dark abyss that was her room. It was as empty as it was when she'd fallen asleep. Frowning, she sat up. The haunting sound still echoed within the confines of her mind.
Okay I know that it's probably just a tree hitting off the building but- Creeeaaaaaakkk...
-that's driving me insane!
Throwing her legs over the side of her bed, Kaoru pulled on her slippers and grabbed her silky house-cloak and bokken. Time to go kick some tree ass...
Okay, maybe this was a bad idea.
She was standing in the hall now. Her bokken held at her side. The shoji screens were filled with shadows and flashes of light from the storm outside. It had obviously developed some lightning over the past few hours. The dark slashes between the light and the dark, on the shoji screens, reminded Kaoru rather disturbingly of blood splashed walls.
I've really should stop watching those late-night movies.
Glancing at the screen to her right that led into her grandpa's room, she frowned.
He wasn't lying earlier, right? He babbles a bit but he doesn't lie, well at least not intentionally...
His soft snores were heard. Kaoru shook her head. This was neither the time nor the place. And she walked on silent feet down the hall, towards the sitting room.
With practiced grace, she edged her way around the corner and poked her head out.
The sitting room was empty.
The television was off although she'd probably need to pull the plug out, what with 'The Ring' and all that. The vision of the long haired girl coming from the tv screen was most definitely not the thing to be thinking of at this precise time. It was a few summers ago that the girls had dragged her to see the movie and it was soon afterwards that her bokken had taken up permanent residence in her bedroom. Pulling away from the dangerous thoughts, Kaoru focused on brighter things: such as her grandpa's empty sake bottle that sat on the table. Hardly the Evil Sake Bottle of Doom. The wind continued to howl.
Creeeaaaaaakkkk...
She gasped and the wooden sword left her hand and hit of the floor. All was still for a minute.
If Mom or Gramps find me now, I'll be cross-examined for a week!
Looking around, she slowly crouched and picked up the bokken with a sweat slicked hand. The noise was coming from outside, as she had originally presumed. Glancing back down the hall, she looked for any signs of life; none were forthcoming.
Nodding, she moved stealthily across the sitting room, wincing whenever her slippers scuffed against the floor. She passed the kitchen; all was dark and quiet except for the buzzing from the radiators and the orange lights from the various plug sockets. She really didn't want to go into the main dojo. It was freaky at night; no light was let in, making it pitch black. With that thought, she passed the hallway that led to the dojo and made her way out to the yard.
Tightening her grip on the bokken, she slid the door open and stepped out onto the porch. Everything was silent except for the sheets of rain that fell. No thunder could be heard and the lightning had passed over and was sparking some miles in the distance. However, the chill never stopped running down her spine. Something was very wrong. She looked at the wind chime that hung by the door; still as the dead, in the middle of a storm, not one bead moved.
How can it-
Creeeaaaaaakkkk...
She spun around with wide eyes, seeking out the cause of the dreaded sound. It wasn't a tree - it was coming from behind the storage building.
She gulped and tried to hold her bokken tighter but her muscles wouldn't allow it.
This is the perfect recipe for a horror movie. Why do I have to be the victim? Okay, calm. You can do this Kamiya! You aren't the assistant master of this dojo for nothing!
Filled with false bravado, she closed the door, pulled her cloak tighter around her and headed off into the night.
The well-house door is open- My slippers are soaked! And the well-house door is open!
Kaoru leaned against the wall of the storage building, shivering. I am not going around there. I've got wet slippers and wet hair and there's no chance in hell that I'm going into that well-house...
She pushed her soaked bangs away from her face. She felt a stream of water descend from her forehead and make its way down the bridge of her nose. I can't do this...it's stupid, it's probably nothing, it's-
A small miaow echoed from inside the wellhouse.
"Buyo!" she said aloud to herself. The family cat, the fat family cat. How could she not have missed him before? Looking over to the wellhouse which had its door slid open half-way, she thought over her options.
Leave the cat for dead, and go back to bed. Not an option. Save the cat and face the forces of darkness. She glanced at the stick in her hand and was vaguely reminded of an old video game that Souta had played repeatedly with the volume of his TV blasted up so high that the neighbors had complained. Feel the Force, huh? Why can't I have a light saber instead of a bokken, then?! Oh yeah, the sword that protects. Damn...
Pinching the bridge of her nose, she knew what she had to do, and it wasn't bad movie or video game puns or the breaking of the whole meaning behind her father's swordsmanship. Taking a deep breath, she edged over to the wellhouse. The wind seemed to be pushing her towards it; whipping against her back. She frowned slightly as her teeth chattered. How could the wellhouse be open anyway? Didn't her grandpa have it locked up like since...forever?
She tried to shake off the ominous feeling that had overcome her, and instead, she held her bokken tightly with both hands and kept moving across the muddy ground. On peering in, there was darkness. There was also a set of stairs in front of her.
"Buyo?" she whispered. There was no answer. She frowned and tried again.
"Buyo?"
'Miaow'
There it was. But, why wasn't he coming out? Rolling her eyes at the enigma that is cats, she edged through the door and stumbled down the stairs; bokken held in front of her.
Now, if Kaoru was a logical person, she would have picked up the cat and left the wellhouse. She would have told her grandpa what had happened the next morning and he would have relocked its door.
But Kaoru wasn't a logical person.
She was brave and impulsive.
And when she would look back and remember the night where she first glimpsed the well, she would wonder if she could have turned away and walked back up the stairs. But fate has a funny way of doing things, and Kaoru's curiosity was just one of those things.
"Buyo, you naughty boy, what are you doing in here?" She asked the cat as he weaved in and out of her legs.
It was cold. So cold. Her breath came out in wisps and her ears felt detached from her body. Her hands were numb but still holding on loosely to the stick. The odd, musky smell of old, wet wood filtered around her breathing space. There was something definitely off with this place. The patter of raindrops could still be heard from outside.
She looked towards the well that sat a few feet away from her. Usually, wells of a particular age were boarded up for preservation purposes. Before coming into the wellhouse, Kaoru could have bet her right arm that her grandfather had boarded the thing up. However, she would now be known as One-Armed Kaoru; the well was as open and unfilled as the day it had been made. It was disturbing on some level. She looked back to the troublesome cat.
"Come on mister, I'm missing out on my beauty sleep for you." And she pushed his butt slightly with her bokken, moving him towards the stairs.
She smirked as the obese cat pulled itself up the stairs. He needed the exercise. Badly. As she was about to start up the stairs, she felt a pull from behind her. Like a hand had grabbed onto her spine and twisted it. The air seemed to still and her breathing became shallow as the empty feeling in her chest intensified. Turning slowly, her senses sharpened.
Something was there. Not quite a presence like she'd been taught to sense in swordsmanship. Not ki. Just something. Something that should not be in a previously locked-up dojo wellhouse. How she wished she could just run up the stairs after the cat and scream to the heavens. But she had come this far...
Adrenaline and courage built up within her. The same feeling she would have before sparring or when taking a test at school. Moving with precision, she held her bokken with both hands. The surge of courage seemed to come from nowhere.
If the girl from the Ring comes out now, I'm ready for her.
She peered over the edge of the well. Nothing, until...
Creeeaaaaaakkkk
And since these moments in life can not be repeated, Kaoru Kamiya would forever wonder if she would have fixed her slipper before she had moved or if she would have pulled the bottom of her pants up...
...before it was too late...
And the blue light surrounded her. Before Kaoru could even register what had happened, she was floating. Disbelief was pitted deep within her stomach as she was enveloped by the light.
The only thing she was sure that was real, was the bokken held tightly in her hand.
And the rest was history.
..o..
It was dark, that much was certain. Sitting up, her aching body gave resistance as a result of lying on the cold, hard ground. Her hand hit against something that rolled slightly. She picked it up and brought it to her face. It was her bokken.
The previous disorientation that had clouded her mind fled, and she remembered.
Of unforgiving storms and doors that should never be opened and missing cats and wells and blue lights and...
Now she was here. Where ever here was. She looked up; it was like a tunnel. And at the top, there was a wooden roof.
She was at the bottom of the well.
After feeling around, she came across vines. Vines that she was certain had not been sprouting from the well before. But all that didn't matter right now; she had to get out of here.
Heaving herself up, she shoved her bokken between her teeth and used both hands to climb. Her foot slipped a few times on the moist wall and her fingers scraped the wood as she pulled herself up. And when she finally got to the top, she heaved a sigh of relief before she swung her leg over the edge.
Looking around, she realised everything was the same and everything was fine, apart from-
The door was closed.
And she had been certain that she had left it open.
Maybe, the wind blew it shut?
So, in a daze, she climbed the stairs and pulled the door open. It wasn't locked, she noted. And she was once again facing the back wall of the storage building. Everything was alright again. And then she noticed the sky.
The clear, star-filled sky. There were stars there, not storm clouds...and it felt wrong.
It felt wrong because there should be storm clouds there, but there wasn't. Instead, there were beautiful, innocent stars, spread across impossibly black velvet that seemed to go on for miles. Unending. It was completely natural. Yet, it was not. Kaoru had not seen such a clear night in a long time; the smog and pollution of the city covered the sky most of the time.
How long was I out?
And then a voice broke her reverie and everything else Kaoru Kamiya thought was true and right.
"What are you doing here?"
A calming baritone with the slightest rough undercurrent. She turned to look at him, under the starlight. She couldn't breathe for a moment.
He looked so calm, so wonderfully calm. And he looked different...and yet he didn't. But what expectations did she really have? She didn't know him. But she did.
His hair was red but it was tied low and his eyes were violet. But once upon a time, weren't they gold?
And was that a scar?
But she wasn't sure; everything was just out of focus.
"Who are you?" she asked helplessly, her bokken held limply and forgotten at her side. Her traitorous mind picked at her thoughts. 'If he says your worse nightmare, then I am so out of here...
But he didn't. He just smiled. A sad smile, her mind murmured but her thoughts were scattered. And all was silent; except for the cicadas' elegant songs and the whistling rustle of windblown trees. She hadn't noticed the sounds before. Or perhaps she had, but they had been swept from her mind before she could acknowledge their existence. The uneasy feeling that had been growing inside of her for the past few minutes seemed to drop even further into her stomach. Then he spoke again.
"I am just a wanderer, Miss. A simple Rurouni."
And then she smiled back slowly, glad that he hadn't said the other name. The one she wanted to hear and yet didn't. Seconds passed. Perhaps minutes. Time was irrelevant...because it was a dream.
She didn't feel herself backing up towards the wellhouse again.
"It's a lovely night. But I think a storm's coming, that I do," the man, the wanderer, said while gazing up at the stars.
Her fingertips scraped the sides of the familiar wooden door and she stumbled backwards, down the stairs. It wasn't real, but she would still ask.
"Are you the Battousai?"
He stood at the door now and looked at her with those shocked lavender eyes.
She smiled softly, "My name is Kaoru."
And her knees hit the edge of the well and she tipped over once again.
"Kaoru..."
She thought she heard him shout after her and then perhaps some shuffled footsteps coming towards her. Perhaps even hurried footsteps, but she wasn't sure because...she was already gone.
And the blue light engulfed her once again.
..o..
There is a moment before one truly awakens, when nothing is real and everything is feeling. Fingers twist slightly in cotton bed-sheets, scrunching the material and then smoothing it. Eyes flicker but do not open. Limbs are heavy and heads more so. This is also the time when the memories of dreams disperse from the mind. Some are forgotten completely and are sealed away in boxes that are never re-opened. Some are remembered vividly and can be recalled at the drop of a hat. While some...
Light poured into the sides of Kaoru Kamiya's eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and it was a challenge to open them. The early morning sunlight streamed through the gap in her curtains. Dragging her forearm across her eyes, she sighed slightly before turning onto her stomach and pressing her face into the cool pillow. A soft mutter of eternal annoyance was heard. Turning to glance at her unset alarm clock, she realised that she had about an hour before the students arrived.
Damn... She wriggled out of the covers, thus ensuing the daily fight. She stopped only to rub her eyes and yawn in a breath catching manner.
What did I dream about last night? I think it was a guy but...
She giggled, and looked down. And her eyes widened and her smile dropped.
The mud was caked up her leg and smeared across her bed sheets. Shifting her arms, she felt something hard. Shakily, she reached under the blankets, hoping to God that she wouldn't find what she was looking for. But she found it.
Her bokken.
Perhaps it hadn't been a dream after all...