Author's Notes:

Okay...here's the last part of the fic. Please send me your C&Cs. Please? Domo arigatou gozai masu. *bows*

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Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin - Meiji Kenkaku Romantan belongs to Watsuki Nobuhiro and to other related parties, but this fic belongs to me. I have no intention on making profit out of this endevour. So please don't sue me.
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( ) = Thoughts
/ / = Flashbacks
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::For Benj::

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RavenMoon Presents
A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfiction

When Silent Rivers Cry
<Part 3>

They have lost this battle.

Several factions of the Oniwabanshuu had run from the Bakufu strongholds upon hearing of the attack. They tried so hard to protect, to even the odds, but damn it, what was with the Ishin Shishi that made them so strong? Even with the Shinshengumi in the frontlines, and by heavens people knew how powerful the Shinsengumi was, they were still defeated by this group of government renegades.

Damn it.

Okina dashed though the hard downpour, various thoughts running in his head. The city was leveled, but at least the fires were dying. But the people...dear kami-sama...the people...

They would regroup again, that's for sure. The bastards might have taken this town, but they will never take *them* in their hands. They'd have to go through bloody hell before they could--

The man stopped short, his thoughts coming to a screeching halt, praying that he didn't see what he just saw.

Slowly turning to face the grim display, he tried so much to register what he was seeing, but realized that he couldn't.

What was once the nest of blissful hopes was now the den of shattered dreams.

The wrecked doors hung limply from their hinges, creaking loudly in the wind. Pushing them aside, the man dared to step in and prepared himself for what he was about to behold.

The house he had been in just the day before yesterday was now almost burned to the ground. There were a few more live flames in shaded places, sputtering as they waited for the rainfall to eventually kill them with its wet fingers. Water mixed with muck and blood splattered on his legs and feet, making dank sounds as he tentatively walked upon its puddles. The damp, putrid smell of death came to him, and he shook his head violently to overcome the dizzying sensation that he felt. Feeling undeniable regret, he stepped over fallen men, muttering under his breath the prayer for the deceased to both Ishin Shishi and Shinsengumi alike.

Then, he came to the dojo.

Like the house itself, the place was nothing more than burnt and destroyed wood. Bodies were strewn everywhere; crimson and rain soaked the floor. Tearing away what was left of the doors, Okina stepped in.

At first, he thought that he was only seeing things, but then it became evident that what he saw was real. His heart plummeted as he saw Aoshi kneeling over the bodies of what he recognized as Masataka and Aihana. Rain fell hard upon him and traces of blood were on his face, staining his clothes, flowing down his arms, to his hands, onto the short blades that he held in both fists.

Deep inside him, Okina knew that this was inevitable. But in his mind, he had never thought that the boy would survive. Fate truly was cruel, leaving a child alone in a country at war.

The man slowly walked towards the boy, and stood in silence before saying, "Why do you have swords in your hands, Aoshi-kun?"

For a moment, the only sound that could be heard was the pattering of rain.

"They hurt Okaasan and Otousan, and they wanted to hurt me..."

The soft whisper was almost drowned by the merciless downpour. Okina remained still, his gaze at the child. It was partly his fault; he could have helped them, and maybe Masataka and Aihana could have survived. He shut his eyes tight and cursed inwardly. How many people still had to die? How many children still had to become orphans? It was unjust. Those like the ones fallen before him did not deserve to die. Nobody did.

"Okina-san?"

Opening his eyes at the sound of his voice, Okina looked upon Aoshi, as the boy ceremoniously placed his father's kodachi and his mother's tanto in his small, open palms, and offered it up to the man.

"Okina-san. Please teach me."

Okina stared at him, wide-eyed. No, he couldn't teach him how to use those weapons! They would only bring him much more pain and sadness...

But when Okina stared at his eyes, he did not find the eyes of a child, but the eyes of someone who had seen and known so much; the eyes of someone whose soul who couldn't take anymore of the hell that it had been through.

Yet despite the strength and determination mirrored in them, something else had caught his attention.

He couldn't really be sure. It could have been the rain...

...but still...it wasn't.

It was...tears...

From his deep, sapphire eyes, tears sprung forth, sliding down his dirty cheeks, and mingling with the blood and the rain.

"Teach me," the boy whispered. "Please."

Thunder roared above them, like a wounded beast pleading for death. In silence, Okina took both swords from the young boy, clutching them in one hand, as he reached out with the other.

"Aoshi. Come."

Aoshi gazed at him, nodded, then quietly took his hand.

/...So the boy stood up, thanked Hotoke-sama, wiped away his tears, and passed by his parents' graves, giving them his final good-byes./

/Soon afterward, the boy who conversed with the Great Buddha raised his eyes and took his first step on to the road of his uncharted destiny./

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Owari

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Author's End Notes:

There. *sighs* Tsk. I find the ending a bit lame. Is it?
Well, after much ado, I finally got to post the three parts. *cheers*
Now...what to do next...oh...yeah...my assignments *sweatdrops* I wish I can start with another fic soon...I'm in the mood to write...but then I have to keep my priorities straight, right?
Oh...life...