[kenshinfanfics] That Which Lingers (prologue) draft

This is a draft of the prologue to my new story.  It was originally
supposed to be a crossover with Highlander, but that's all changed
^_^;

This story is set in my own ALTERNATE REALITY universe which I've
called "The Nightwitch Tales" -- think of it as Rurouni Kenshin mixed
with various supernatural and paranormal elements.  Other stories in
this alternate reality are:
        "Night Visitor"
        "All in the Family"
        "Romancing the Wolf"

WARNING:  This story is "semi-dark" -- it has dark elements
(violence, etc) but it's not a darkfic!  Actually, there's
quite a bit of romance in it....     ^_-

This story takes place after the end of the Kyoto story arc.  After
that, it takes a sharp left turn into its own world.  Elements of the
Revenge story arc may or may not show up later on in the story.  The
Kenshin Gumi already know that Saitoh survived the destruction of
Shishio's stronghold.

As always, C&C is greatly appreciated!   ^_^

======================================================================
    THAT WHICH LINGERS:  A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic by MadamHydra
======================================================================
        Prologue: The Shadow of Ghosts to Come
======================================================================

---------------
Disclaimer
    All rights and privileges to Rurouni Kenshin belong to Nobuhiro
Watsuki, Shuiesha, Sony Music Entertainment, and associated parties.
The characters of these series are used WITHOUT permission for the
purpose of entertainment only.  This work of fiction is not meant for
sale or profit.  Original portion of the fiction included here is
considered to be the sole property and copyrighted to the author.

---------------
Text Conventions
    (  ) are character thoughts
    * ----- * ----- *  marks the start and end of flashbacks
    [ ] denote visual or time notes

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[Kyoto, 13 years in the past]

    In a modest house in the outskirts of the city, a man lay in bed.
Unmoving.  His stillness was not a matter of choice.  He could hear
voices from the hallway.
 
    A young woman's voice said in desperate tones, "Are you sure!?"
 
    An older man replied, "Yes.  I've tried my best, but the injuries
were too great.  He will never walk again.  And I doubt he will even
be able to regain any meaningful use of his arms."

    "But... but... surely, there must be something you can do!"
 
    "There is nothing that can be done!  I'm not a magician!  I can't
heal a broken spine with a wave of my hand."

    There was a long silence, then the woman's voice said flatly, "So
there your famous skills as a doctor are worse than useless."

    "I'm sorry.  To see such a skilled swordsman cut down in his
prime...."

    The woman's voice was bitter.  "Apparently not skilled enough to
defeat the Hitokiri Battousai."

    "Ahhh....  Then he's lucky to be alive."
 
    "LUCKY!?  Unable to move hand or foot, and you call that lucky!?"
 
    There was another silence, then the elderly man said quietly,
"I've done what I can."

    A loud, metallic clink echoed through the deserted house.
 
    "Then take your money and go, old man.  I never want to see you
again!"

    He heard the old man depart.  Soft footsteps approached his room,
then the door slid open.  A shadowy form crept to his bedside.

    "You... you... must have heard."
 
    The injured man said nothing.  Perhaps he would not.
 
    Perhaps he could not.

    The young woman picked up his limp hand -- a hand that bore the
calluses of a expert swordsman -- and pressed it to her tear-stained
cheek.  In a choked voice, she whispered, "If... if you want me to...
I... I will end... your suffering...."
 
    She lifted her head.  His eyes were fixed on the ceiling, open and
unblinking.  She couldn't tell whether he was simply ignoring her or
whether he was unaware of her presence.

    "It's... it's me... Junko!  Please answer me!"
 
    There was no response.

    After a muffled sob, Junko said, "I... there's one last chance.
If doctors can do nothing, perhaps SHE can.  I'll... I'll be right
back."

-----------------------------------

    A few hours later, the door to his room opened again.  A hooded
woman glided into the dimly lit room, carrying a long, thin bundle.
She was followed by Junko.  The woman murmured, "Leave us."

    "But Aunt...."
 
    "Leave us, girl," the hooded woman firmly repeated.
 
    "....very well."  Junko reluctantly departed.
 
    Alone in the room with the injured man, the woman pushed back her
hood.  She was more handsome than beautiful, with a tired, careworn
face.  The woman stared down at the man on the futon.

    "So....  Minobe Junichi, a promising swordsman of the third unit
of the Shinsengumi, his career and life cut brutally short in a battle
with the infamous Hitokiri Battousai."  Her voice was cool, almost
mocking.

    The man did not respond.
 
    "I know you can hear me perfectly well, nephew.  It is only your
body that is broken, not your mind."

    There was finally a reaction from the injured man... a mere twitch
of an eyebrow.

    "But to the matter at hand."  She sat down gracefully beside
Junichi and said, "I tell you bluntly, nephew.  I cannot heal your
broken back and you will never walk again...."  She gave him a
bone-chilling smile.  "....on this side of the grave."

    She pulled the wrappings away from her bundle and held up a
sheathed sword.  Pulling it a few inches out of its sheath, she held
it up, but the blade did not gleam.  Instead, the matte black steel
seemed to drain what little light was in the room.

    "Do you recognize this fine weapon, boy?  This sword has been a
family treasure for over 400 years, but it has been used by only one
man.... the legendary swordsman Minobe Koji.  It was the atrocities he
committed in his madness which gave this blade its name."  She
abruptly slid the blade back into its sheath with a snap.

    "Kinslayer."

    She leaned over him and said, "The only thing left for you now is
revenge.  How badly do you want that revenge?"

    Junichi stared directly at her, his eyes glittering.
 
    The woman's smile widened.  "Good.  I can see the hatred burning
in your eyes.  Then listen well, Minobe Junichi.  You have two
choices."  She held up one bony finger.  "You can chose to die now,
freeing yourself from your crippled body... and also freeing your
enemies from any threat of vengeance."

    She held a second finger.  "Or you can live.  Tend your hatred
carefully and feed it well, boy... become one with this blade, because
only then will you have the skill to defeat the Hitokiri Battousai!
If your desire for revenge is strong enough, your spirit and this
sword will become one and the same.  If you succeed...."

    The elderly woman cackled softly.  "When this useless flesh of
yours eventually dies, this sword and this sword alone will help you
to accomplish what your body in life could not... the destruction of
the Hitokiri Battousai and the others who have wronged you.  Do you
understand, my nephew?"

    For the first time in days, the young man's face moved.  He
smiled.

-----------------------------------

    In another part of the house, Junko had an unexpected visitor.
 
    "Saitoh Hajime."
 
    The tall, thin man with the lean, dangerous face said, "How is
he?"
 
    "He's ... crippled.  His back was broken by the Hitokiri
Battousai."

    "Or by the fall off the bridge."  Saitoh gave her a chilly smile.
 
    Junko noticed that the captain of the third unit of the
Shinsengumi looked both ill and exhausted.

    "What happened to you?" she rudely asked.
 
    He looked at her.  "The same thing that happened to the whole
squad.  We were cornered on a bridge and it collapsed during the
ensuing battle.  Between the fighting, the falling debris, and the icy
waters in the canal, some may say it's a miracle that any of us
survived."

    "And what of the Battousai?"
 
    "Cunning as a fox and just as nimble... as always.  He was long
gone by the time the bridge gave way."  He shrugged and turned to
leave.

    She jumped to her feet and yelled, "Is that it?  Aren't you and
the other Shinsengumi going to hunt down the Battousai and make him
pay for what he did to my brother!?"

    Saitoh gave her bored look and said, "Why should we do that?  We
have enough to do without spending valuable time on personal
vendettas."
 
    "How can you say that!?  He's your comrade...!"
 
    "Your brother was a fool and he disobeyed my direct orders.  We
had an important mission to complete.  The last thing we needed was to
have an encounter with the Ishin ShiShi forces, but Junichi
deliberately attracted the Battousai's attention in some moronic
attempt to gain a reputation for himself.  His foolishness nearly got
my entire unit killed."
 
    "That's not true!"
 
    "Believe what you like.  I don't have time to waste arguing with
half-witted girls.  If he is crippled, you should give some thought to
cutting his throat and putting him out of his misery.  At least he'll
have a relatively painless death.  That might not be the case if some
of your brother's so-called 'comrades' find him.  My men are quite
unhappy with all the trouble he caused us."

    "Why can't you stop them!?" Junko shrieked.
 
    Saitoh gave her a cold, cynical smile.  "On the contrary.  I think
I'll praise them for their initiative."

    He disappeared into the evening shadows, leaving behind a badly
frightened young woman.  She crouched on the floor, shaking, until she
realized that she was no longer alone.

    "Junko."
 
    She hastily rose to her feet and said respectfully, "Aunt."
 
    "I could not but overhear you conversation with Captain
Saitoh...."

    "That cold-blooded bastard!"
 
    "Oh, I quite understand his feelings.  My nephew's a fool beyond
measure.  However, he's a fool who wants to continue living as long as
possible.  I suggest you leave this house and quickly, before the
Shinsengumi arrive."

    Junko gaped at her formidable aunt.  "He wants to... live?"
 
    Her aunt grabbed Junko's chin with cold, bony fingers.  "Listen
well, girl.  Your brother has chosen to live, despite his injuries.
It is your duty to ensure that he does.  You are to protect and take
care of him, no matter what it takes.  Is that clear?"

    "But...."
 
    The cold fingers tightened their grip.  "Your oath on it, girl!"
 
    "Y-y-yes.  I... I swear."
 
    "Don't worry about the money.  I'll tend to that.  Now, get
moving, Junko."

    For the second time in less than an hour, Junko was left alone
with her burdens and her fears.

-----------------------------------
[the present, 11th year of the Meiji period, late summer]

    In the outskirts of Tokyo, a crippled middle-aged man died one
night during a raging thunderstorm.  No one except his sister knew or
cared.

    Minobe Junko was glad that her brother was finally dead... as dead
as the love she had once had for him.  When she gave her word to her
aunt all those years ago, Junko had no idea that her brother Junichi
would linger on for over a decade.  And during that time, Junko's life
had been stagnant and monotonous -- feed her brother, clean her
brother,... over and over again.  But all that changed a few months
ago when she met and fell in love with Uboshita Sachi, a young man
from a rich and influential family.

    As long as her brother lived, marriage was out of the question.
And although he was sick and crippled, Junichi could have still clung
to life for another decade or more... and she wasn't getting any
younger.

    A pot of tea, a little white powder, and Junko was now a free
woman.

    She entered her brother's room for one last time.  Sachi's mother
had welcomed Junko into her home.  She was eager to go.

    (I'm never coming back here.  Never.)
 
    A dull gleam caught her eye and she noticed the sheathed sword
lying on her dead brother's bed.  He had clutched it in his crippled
hands almost continuously for those thirteen years.

    (What a waste of a fine weapon.  I can't just leave it here and I
don't want to take this ghastly thing with me.  I know!  I'll sell it
and buy something nice for Sachi's birthday.)
 
    She picked up the sword and admired the craftsmanship.  It would
fetch a good price.  Junko tugged on the hilt and the black blade slid
effortlessly out of its scabbard.

    The room seemed to darken and shadows crawled across the walls.

-----------------------------------
(end of prologue)

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Next part:  An unexpected meeting!  ^_^

--------------------------------------------
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