DISCLAIMER: All characters involved (c) Nobuhiro Watsuki. Plot
influenced by the first episode and the revenge chapters (c) Sony and
Nobuhiro Watsuki respectively. I am not making money out of this, neither is
anyone else, so if you sue, you'll not only get no money over the entire
case, but lose more money as well. This is merely fan for fan and fun for
fun. Okay? Thanks and hope you'll enjoy it.
Yeh. Before we proceed further, I must quote... if you enjoy boredom
or just have nothing better to do, this is for you.
If you prefer action packed, full-of-plot fanfics with much
pondering points with lots and lots of hopeless romantics and angst, this is
not for you.
This is a downright boring fic; plotless, no bone structure,
irritatingly hard to read and accept, much of which had already been
pondered out for you so you'll just have to sit back and watch your brains
being fed... although I must admit, it won't be fed much since much of these
'pondered out' points completely bore you to sleep.
Hey look! My blabberings are longer than the fic itself! CHEER GUYS!
You hear me? CHEER I SAY!!!
Untitled by Seiryuu
**********
He lightly stepped onto the green grass nearer the city of Tokyo,
tired yet satisfied. A smile formed on his pale face as the wind breezily
rustled his fiery mane.
*Tokyo...*
He turned his head to face the city. A compelling, misty and almost
intimidating morning fog had hovered unconvetionally over the beautiful
houses, blurring the clear edges of the silouettes everywhere. But for him,
standing atop this hill, where much of the world was in sight, in total
possibility of beholding all activities, all early morning dew, all the
beauty of the new, peaceful world, this was enough... to calm his undying
regrets... to smooth his unsettled nerves...
*Ishin...*
This man continued to think while he slung his bag over his right
shoulder.
*... even the air smells different from that time...*
It had been ten, ten long and tedious years since he first embarked
on this kind of work. During these ten fruitful years, he had covered the
entire country, seeing the pain, tasting the desires, feeling the hurt,
hearing the remorse... smelling the peace...
He sat down, mentally exhausted, and leaned his head back on the
huge tree behind. The long grass flowed gracefully as they bended with the
direction of the winds, as so did his thick red hair.
*Even the sky now looks different...*
It was true. Ten years ago, the sky was nothing but a big patch of
blue dotted constantly with speckles of white. Pure white... pure white
which thundered into impending darkness and later dropping it's crystalled
tears onto the torn world...
*How the world has changed...*
How the world had indeed reformed. No more did the word of war form
on the people's lips the moment they met. Instead, they were all smiles,
with new light and hope in the future... with the coming of the Ishin...
people could actually see with refreshed viewpoints; and could have faith in
the new world still to be formed. They knew their efforts would do it, and
this they could busy themselves in useful work...
He shut his large, purple, deep, sad, liquid, and contemplative
eyes. These pair of eyes had seen much. Ranging from war, to peace. From
attacking, to protecting. He questioned his existence in the peace times.
Was he even needed? The memories of so long ago clad his tired self. He was
drained and exhausted beyond belief. Mentally, physically, psychologically,
in all forms of all ways in all sorts of paths, he was losing the initial
bout of enthusiasm.
Yet he would not stay. Many a times people had requested for his
stay, his residing in their lives. But he would not accept. He felt that he
was a living sin, and the pure people of peace did not need him to slightly
mar their beautiful chastity. Was he so important? Were people only
attracted to the past he felt so compelled to hide? No. He could never stay.
How could he? He owed the world so much... but sometimes he did so
much wonder, whether he had already repaid them all, owed them much, or were
just practicing voluntary service to them.
But he was indeed tired. Worn out even. A part of him chipping away
with every step he took. This he could deny no more... for ten long years,
with every new journey embarked and every new face he saw, he could feel his
increasing relinquishment. His internal eyes shutting to outside views. He
wanted to rest. YES YES YES! But... but... there was always a but to every
sentence of his. He was always conflicting himself. He had so many things to
think about... one lifetime spent could not ponder them all. But...
"Ack..." He finally managed to mutter as he tilted his head
downwards, his hand firmly grasping the katana which had never left him all
these years. A facet of the past worthed keeping? No. Even if it should be
that way, he still would move.
He would walk the earth, see the skies, drink the seas. There was no
where he could belong to. Who would want him? A murderer of the past and
protector of the present. Yes, that was his duty. That was all he continued
to live for... and that was enough. It would be enough to last him his
entire life... as long as he had that breathe in him, one reason was enough
to allow him to live on. To protect. To preserve this new era which he had
fought so hard and sacrificed so much to create and construct...
The cool morning breeze lightly lapped his left cheek. Suddenly, his
ideals disappeared mysteriously into the crisp air as his heart acted up
upon him and pained him suddenly. He sneezed... or was it a sneeze?
Memories could hurt so much in where they were unwanted. Touching
the scar on his left cheek... were those hot, fresh tears brewing within his
firmly shut eyes? There was no way to know... why, the only way would be to
open his eyes, and he would find out.
But did he want to know? After all those years with all the
suppression was it necessary to recount all the bitter tales? He was a man
after all. A human, just like many others... all of them. His heart was as
fragile as anyone's, and his soul... a dying soul... he was not immortal. He
was not heartless. He was all in all, in the end, coming to eventual, a
human who was dying since the day he was born. He had feelings, of passion,
to love, to feel for, of fright, of fear, of fascination... just... a
human...
*Tomoe... if only you were here...*
The tears were forcing their way out even with shut eyes. He gacked
and started rubbing them away, while the residue of it all remained on his
cheeks, cooling those red cheeks flushed with embarrassment. It was weird
that he would think of Tomoe now. Did he really love her? Did she?
Why would he want to know? The things of the past shall forever
remain that way. Change it? If only he could. Life was so full of 'if
only's. His parents, his siblings, his life, his wife... it was all gone.
The only thing that kept him going was that reason. The one and only reason.
But Tomoe... oh Tomoe...
He looked at his hands. Clean? No. They were the most bloodied,
dirtied and never to be cleansed pair of hands. One person's blood was
enough. And that one person... He would never be able to fully repair the
broken past of his. But he could forget it. Suppress it all the way and
build a perfect, healthy new life afresh just like the one he had led in the
past... without all the bitterness, sorrow, emptiness, cruelness and
disappointment...
He was tired... very very tired... ten years of wandering around
worrying each day under which tree he would sleep. But why worry? If he
should die, he die. There was nothing to be worthed remniscing about. No
one would care... many had wished him dead. But he defied the audience to
continue surviving. For that one reason...
Was the one reason valid enough? It had been ten years after all...
had it expired after all those suffering years?
Sleep was setting in as the morning birds crooned their chirps. And
the dream had just begun...
**********
And as for what dream, well, you readers might enjoy putting up your
own dream (I admit, I'm too lazy to think anymore) here based on what
happened later.
Talk about boring... are you asleep yet?
**********
His eyes snapped open in utter fear and shock while his breath
accelerated beyond what he thought could be possible in a dream. The vein of
pressure in his head burst as he reacted heavily by suddenly standing erect
from his previous sitting position. The thick morning fog had not
disappeared, as neither had the heavy load weighted on his shoulders and his
heart.
The eyes were thrown in all possible directions as quickly as he
could. He was standing... in Kyoto! City of misery, of troubles, of
bloodshed and bloodlust...
*KYOTO!*
He shuddered in his heart as he ran forward trying to disperse all
the misty fog by hacking through it. His mind was racing, his heart just
added another weight to itself. Back in Kyoto?!?!
The rock loosened under his intense weight as he lunged backwards to
prevent himself from dropping downhill. The breath in his chest was faster
than ever now as he glanced down. Nope. It wasn't a very pleasant drop or a
very nice place to fall down to.
Glittering, shimmering and welcoming. Tokyo. Serene and beautiful.
At least in the morning sun it was. Hitokiri Battousai... the man stared at
his own hands, terrified... for no reason at all, for nothing in particular.
He clenched it into a fist. Had he fallen asleep under the sheer discomfort
of life? He hated himself. For everything. Or was that even hate? He didn't
know... and maybe he would never wish to find out.
Retracing his footsteps, he gathered the bag he had abandoned under
the huge tree. He stared at the tree for a split second before turning away,
emitting a little smile of gratefulness for a tree which had been willing to
house an atrocious sinner of the past. He looked into the sky, feeling as
tired as ever, ceaselessly having to suppress an outburst of insanity, as
confused as he always had been.
And he proceeded onto his life. His journey, the reason to stay
alive. Would there be another life awaiting protection? Another new mission
to refresh this survival reason? Well there was only one way to find out...
The streets of Tokyo were silent and fog clouded. How ironic it was
that in the bright new beginning of a new day, of new hopes and new dreams
and new lives... that the fog would literally cloud it all. The man lowered
his head in pondering silence.
That dream... what meaning did it hold? Even now as he proceeded to
slowly stroll his way through the houses on both sides, he could not figure
it out. The dream... of so long ago... of a cruel past, and an unenjoyable
childhood; with the unbelievable strained way of maturity. All merging with
figures he had never came across, never seen...
The dream... or nightmare might sound better. This nightmare of old
and new, known and un. Where was the meaning in it? What did his
subconsciousness wanted to convey to him? There were many figures, many
images and many meanings in that nightmare he knew... but he could only
remember one... one and only one and nothing else...
*Tomoe...*
Still not letting go. It had been so many years. He still refused to
give up her silouette. Everytime he closed his eyes, she was there. With
Battousai, she was there with Battousai... BATTOUSAI. How that word pricked
like a needle, punctuating whatever reason he had to be satisfied with life
with. Contrasting comparisons... it was so way out of line. He knew that
now... forever, it would be impossible to shake off that title.
*Hitokiri Battousai...*
Why??? Why did he always think about it? He did not want it to be
this way! He wanted to completely kick the title away, sever it totally, saw
off any connections, dismantle it, wound it, finish it, away with it, forget
it, WHATEVER!
Yet he knew he could. His hair dropped down to cover his sorrow
written face and pain clad eyes. At least... he knew, that he could hold
them all alone. No one would know the conflict arouse within himself. No one
would have to know if he were to face it all by himself. He would suppress
that dreadful name... keep it stuffed down under him all his life. And no
one in this bright and new era would suffer the memories of the darkness
again...
"Stand there!"
These words burst his thoughts like a bubble as he stood erect in
shock to the stern and swift words. He could feel someone's hateful eyes
boring into his back as he stood there, at a total loss of what to do or
react. So he did nothing. He would see what was happening first. Then he
would act. That was all he could do for anything anywhere now.
"Stand there, Hitokiri Battousai!"
*Hitokiri Battousai?!?!* This time he got more than a shock, he got
the shock of his life. Who was this youthful little voice belonging to a
girl? What was she trying to achieve... Hitokiri Battousai... what was this?
It must have been at least years since anyone ever addressed him with that,
and even the calling out itself was strange and alien...
But more importantly... how did she know? This, he told himself, he
had to find out.
And so, the man with flaming red hair and a beautiful cross scar of
a marked sword's wound turned around to face the accusing party.
She was pointing her bamboo sword at him, an entire face of disdain
and hatred. Immediately she started listing out deeds of which were of total
alien nature to the man... the stranger... who could do nothing but listen
peacefully and react clumsily...
As the girl pulled the sword out of his sheath and then threw it
away at the sound of the police whistle, he was quick to resheath his
precious sword and stare in the direction she went off.
*That girl... she looks so familiar...*
His dream was starting to lose it's sharp edges. No... make that he
couldn't remember anything other than Tomoe's shadowed face and icy smile.
But somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew there were connections in the
girl and his dream... he knew her image had been in his dream... just where
and when and how important was it in relation...
*A sign for me to follow? Or is it just 'Hitokiri Battousai'...*
But he did follow, and it really proved lucky as he carried her away
and snatched her from the jaws of death. It was again such irony and jokes,
that the magnetic attraction of the deadly name 'Hitokiri Battousai' should
lead to a life being preserved.
The man smiled as he watched his soup boil in the front courtyard of
the Kamiya dojo. This. This is why. This is why he chose survival over
suicide. To save the new era he carved. To do whatever he could to keep it
going... on... and on... and on... and on...
One year, ten years... his entire life. He would continue walking
this way. No turning back; no regrets. However this self employed job would
gradually eat his life away, he would not stop. There was not reason to
stop, and the only reason he had, was one that compelled him to continue.
Then, as he wipes his face from the droplets of soup liquid splashed
onto his face because of the two little girl's follies in adding an overdose
of extra food into his soup, his second reason formed.
For new blood, for new hopes and ideals. For people like them, he
would continue to live... he SHOULD continue to live. These children who
lived in the peaceful new era, who had never seen bloodshed nor the broken
pieces to be picked in the aftermath of war. They; the little children,
would need to be confirmed a definite new era of which they could live in
with confidence. Their future; fragile and in need of constant watering to
keep it from withering. He would do it. He would help them grow in the sun
and bear fruit in the winds. There could be no one else...
Two reasons in one realization. But was it enough still? It should
be, there could be no otherwise. But still... something in his heart weighed
him down heavily. Was not two reasons better than one? A person should never
grow to be so greedy... two reasons were more than enough. Enough, was
enough...
But his heart was still going the other way. Enough? No. Something
was still missing. Something sorely missed. Something that refused to knock
onto the man's head.
He smiled to himself as he carried the little girl on his shoulders
to walk around and to the girl who had offered to allow him to stay without
wishing to probe his past... if the third reason ever came... he knew, that
it would be a day he greatly altered the route he had undertook for ten
years. But it would never come. He was sure about that. And he would
continue this journey forever and ever to keep on probing and distributing
the message to cherish the peace with the people.
So the day wheezed past for him. From the accidental peeking of
Kaoru in her bath, to the unravelling of the mystery of the 'Hitokiri
Battousai'. It went smoothly; and he had completed, it seems, his mission in
Tokyo. So it was time to go. Regain his footsteps and step onto the life of
a rurouni again. There were still many places in need of loving concern...
many people awaiting peace...
It was time to go somewhere else. He could not stay... he constantly
reminded himself. Only if he did not stay could the people truly feel peace
and happiness. He was one with troubles and dangers. He would not allow
anyone to get close to him... and disrupt his ten year long purpose. The
time had certainly came for him to leave. GO. His heart and mind both said.
GO AWAY. How could people feel happiness if he, this blood covered creep
were to stay with them?
But yet when that girl scolded him and asked him to stay...
something popped into his mind which had never ever ever EVER been there
before.
*Why not?*
He hardened his heart but softened his smile. *Of course not*. If he
did really care about her, about the lives of people here, it would be wiser
to leave than to stay. He was a rurouni. He would roam and wander and never
stay... till his life ended, he must remain that way...
Yet this girl... she emitted something more special than the other
encounters he had brushed across. Somehow, interaction with her saw to it
that she could elevate his spirits and refresh his morals. He could forget
everything... maybe... just maybe it could work out. But that aside, Kaoru
was special. So much more special than everyone else he had met. She
reminded him so much of... someone of great importance to his past.
*Tomoe...* He could never smile without thinking about Tomoe. She
was, after all, who had invoked the first of it in him... and behind those
smile he could feel the piercing guilt of love... or was it love?
Kaoru reminded him so much of his late wife Tomoe... or maybe it was
just Tokyo. Tomoe had touched Tokyo, and that was what made Tokyo forever
a special place in Kenshin's heart... Suddenly there was a strong tug
between him and her... even as she asked for his name. And he did not
hesitate to reply... proud of his new identity even...
"Himura. Himura Kenshin."
Then he found his third reason.
"Kenshin... Kenshin... you may get lost now!"
Kenshin smiled to himself. It was time. The alarm clocks have rung.
Fogs have lifted, the rain has stopped. Time was up... now. Now. He slid the
door shut after remaining within the dojo grounds.
It was to protect those he truly loved. Sworn to loyalty with the
people he truly felt for, not for an entire nation who could bind together
for eternity. True. The nation would need to be strengthened before it could
stand on it's own, but now, let that come to rest with a targetted way.
All these years, all this toiling, tedious, tiring years... he had
grown drained and exhausted not from physically travelling alone.
It was the spread of his concern. One person was not enough to care
and love for every single person of the entire nation. Not only would that
drain him totally, but leave him no more for others. Recuperating would be
an option, but then the whole cruel cycle would sap more and more of him
away every passing day. One person was just not enough... diffused and
spread all throughout the nation... there was not enough love to be spared
just from one big heart.
So it was time. It was time he concentrated. On just those few he
would learn about; to care for; to love and to mutually respect. Only this
way could he regain his energy and replenish his stamina to fully show the
great effects of loving a person; a group of people, selected or whatever.
He would try his best. No matter how sinful he had been in his past,
he knew that something in him could still enlighten and make happy another's
life. Just like his ten years of wandering, had he not seen how many smiling
faces he had made? Had he not touched the very beauties of joy flourishing
in those of which whom never thought they had it in them?
Ten years living in a dream. It was time he woke up...
"This unworthy one here is beginning to feel the toil."
Kenshin smiled sillily. Yes. Three reasons, and it would be enough.
"If you do not mind, may this one then disturb you temporarily."
To stay. To taste a new way of life. One year, ten years... or his
entire life...
"But there would be a day where this one would return to a life of a
rurouni..."
And to Kenshin; that 'one day' seemed like it would never come or
descend. Although there was that little bit of truth behind that 'one day'
part, still, that 'one day' would never be able to come...
*********
Asleep yet? Awww... don't worry. Now for the hard part...
All comments to ruroken@geocities.com please.
All flames to nobody@wrong-server.com please.
All complaints for boredom to I-am@not-listening.com please.
All death threats to This-will-go@into-the-bin.com please.
Any other negative complaints to sayonara@go-away.com please.
**********
(
geocities.com/himurasan)