Little Sister:  Hello!  Just wanted to let you lot know that this is my first attempt at shounen-ai, so please go easy on me.  Please don't kill me!  I don't know why I started this instead of working on some more Sess/Kag fics.  Ah well.  Other than that, I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer:  I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of the characters herein.  They belong to their creator and whatever publishing and broadcasting companies sponsored them. 

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Hidden Feelings

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All I ever wanted was to be loved.

My earliest memories involved strange men looming over me, watching me with disturbing looks on their faces.  It wasn't until I was five though, that I began to really hate those looks.  I shudder to remember those mouths, hands, and especially fingers, which I loathed above all else.  The fingers were the worst because they meant pain.  And those men, they were only the slavers.

My first owner, I do not recall his name, nor do I wish to, but I do know that he was very cruel.  Yes, and it was he who branded me with that cursed mark on my back, he who was the first to leave me bleeding and broken on his bedroom floor.  His very features are branded into my memory, and not even the screams of all the men I have killed can block the sounds of his mocking laughter.  How many times had I broken, determined to give up and just die?  Still, I picked myself up, pulled myself together and simply survived.  How I did it, I will probably never know.  Despite his fascination with my hair and eyes, my owner eventually sold me to another group of slavers.

Akane.  Kasumi.  Sakura.  The three women who tried to protect me, even though they had only known me for a day.  I can still see their faces, can still hear the terror and desperation in their voices as they begged the bandits to spare my life.  I watched them die in front of my eyes, that cruel, mocking laughter filling the air as the only people who actually showed me any affection were mercilessly slaughtered.

I was saved that day.

Shishou came and killed the bandits before they could finish me off too.  Sometimes, I wonder if it would have been better if he had never come.  Would things be any different?  Somehow, I doubt it.  Someone else would have taken my place, someone else would have done the things I had.

It's times like these that I hate, humid summer nights when sleep does not come, leaving me with too much time to brood.  So much regrets, so much that I wish I had done differently.

Maybe I should have listened to Shishou and finished my training.  Maybe I should have tried to fight back against that man that hurt me so.  Maybe I should have told him that I lo…  No.  No.  I can't think like that.  It's better this way, with no one knowing the dark thoughts that flow through my head.  Better that no one can see through my masks.  At least I cannot be hurt.

He could see through them, if he wanted to.  But, maybe he can't.  Or maybe, even worse, he doesn't want to.

I can't blame him.

I am nothing.  I have taken the lives of so many, that I will never be able to wash the blood off of my hands.  Dirty.  That's what I am.  My body was defiled long before I met him.

I want to be loved.

But I don't deserve it.

Not the love of an innocent, young lady, determined to save me from myself.  Not the love of a young man who looks up to me like his beloved Taichou.  No, and definitely not his love.  Never his love.

He has someone to love him, and someone whom he loves.  After all, he never does anything half-heartedly.

I remember when I met him.  It was a hot, humid summer night much like this one.  At first I couldn't believe my eyes.  He was my enemy?  I was supposed to fight this perfection in front of me?  Somehow, it seemed so incredulous.  And I just knew then that I would do anything for him if he asked it of me.  I nearly gave myself away, barely refraining from collapsing as his cool, golden eyes glanced at me appraisingly.  When he seemed to dismiss me as any sort of threat, I felt hurt.  I would never be anything special to him, but at least I could prove to him that I was able to hold my own.

So I fought him, and our battles were forever ending in draws.

Then I left.  I ran away from him, from his eyes, from the pain that he caused in my heart.  It was cowardly of me, but I couldn't…I just couldn't stay.

I wandered for years, trying to forget him but never succeeding.  He was with me wherever I went, a constant presence in my mind.  I had managed, though, to suppress most of my emotions, to hide behind carefully constructed masks.  Just when I had found a place where I thought I could stay, he appeared again.

I treasured the moments we spent together.  But even that was taken from me when I found that he was married.  He himself said that his wife was a good woman.  I shouldn't feel any pain.  After all, I can't miss what I didn't have in the first place.  Still, it hurts…

He respected me then, and still does.  I can see that.  If that is the extent of his feelings, then I will take all I can get.

Sometimes it pains me to see him and not be able to just touch him, just a little.  I want to run my fingers through his hair, caress his face.  I want to make him smile.  It's dangerous for me to even sneak into his apartment, knowing how light a sleeper he is.  But I do.  I don't dare to touch him though.  He'd wake for sure, and then he would hate me.  That is the one thing I couldn't bear, his hatred.

So here I am again, watching him sleep.  He doesn't have half the nightmares I do, but he does have them occasionally.  I watch his face grimace in – pain? hatred? – no, an emotion I cannot identify.  What is he dreaming about?  He never shows his emotions around others.  He hides behind his smirk and sarcasm.  But I know.  I can see by the way he moves…I know when he is in a good mood, when he is frustrated, when he's thinking of the past.

He stirs in his sleep and I freeze.  Oh please, please, don't wake up!  He settles back down and I let my heartbeat slow.  It's time for me to leave.  He will wake soon, and I cannot afford to be caught here.

I stand slowly, quietly moving to the door.  I shouldn't look back, but one last glance can't hurt, right?

I turn around and my eyes rest on his sprawled form.

Oh no…

Please…please tell me that he isn't awake and staring at me with questions in those beautiful golden eyes.

He'll make me tell him, and then the look will turn to hate and disgust.

I love you.  I'm sorry.

I run.

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Erm, sorry if that was awfully vague and rambly-ish.  And yes, I didn't mention Tomoe on purpose.  Anywho, please let me know what you think.  Feedback would be greatly appreciated.  I'm still not confident about writing shounen-ai and yaoi stuff.  Goodness knows I read enough of it though!  ^_^