"Himura-san!" the boy whispered as he crouched beside the prone figure that was slumped against the slippery, moss-covered alley wall. The man's face was pale, paler than it usually was, and the boy winced as he touched the man's chin, trying to part his colourless lips.
The man stirred fitfully. "Sou… Soujiro…" he moaned. His navy blue gi was in shreds, hanging off his mangled, bleeding body in a bloody mess. His flaming red hair, drawn back into a tight ponytail, was limp, his bangs plastered to his head and the ponytail to his back by perspiration and a substance that, on closer inspection, was blood. His left leg was bleeding profusely as well, and when Soujiro ripped part of the man's hakama pants to examine the wound, he saw a gash so deep that bone was exposed.
"Himura-san, hold on." Hurriedly, Soujiro pulled up the sleeve of his own blue gi, revealing his own pale arm, wiry and toned although lacking in colour. He hesitated.
"Sou…" The man's moan was too pained for him to endure.
He jammed his elbow into the man's mouth.
Soujiro was never one to wince, but he grimaced slightly as he felt sharp fangs puncture his flesh, reaching a blood vessel and causing the hot, red liquid to trickle out with morbid slowness. Slowly, the blood ran down his skin and dripped into the warm, velvety inside of the man's mouth. He choked for a bit, but soon became used to the foreign, bitter taste of Soujiro's blood and started to suck hungrily. Moments that felt like hours oozed by, but Soujiro just sat there, feeding the man's insatiable hunger.
He felt his vision get fuzzier and fuzzier as he felt his life draining out of him, with each slow and measured pump of the heart. The last thing he saw before he lost consciousness was the pair of feral amber eyes snapping open.
Battousai stood up, strength renewed by a fraction and wounds healed enough for movement, picking Seta Soujiro up with much ease and grace, bearing the boy off to safety before the enemies returned. The little colour was back in his face, pale and flawless if not for the ugly looking cross-scar which marred his cheek.
Author's NoteI started this story on a sudden impulse, but the plot, setting and character roles are actually leftover parts from some of my other original fiction (not published anywhere on the internet… yet). This is the somewhat crystallized version of all my jumbled thoughts; the product of late nights pounding away on the keyboard with coffee the only thing standing between me and sleep, which takes control of my consciousness sooner or later, regardless of the caffeine. I know that vampire stories are quite commonplace, and I have read quite a few Rurouni Kenshin vampire stories that surpass brilliance (one to note is Tears of Eternity by the great Chiruken), but I just felt like writing my own version of RK vampirism.
About the rating: I think that if you took the scenes from the story as they appeared in my head and put it on film, White Rose Stained by Tears of Blood might get something around NC-17. But because my writing style does not wholly allow me to describe gory scenes, I think a PG-13 would be a safe bid. Of course, if you consider vampires feeding on blood as very, very violent (I know quite a few people who do), this story might well be rated R. But that's if you're one of those people. For everyone else, I can safely say that PG-13 is the official rating.
As some people know from past experiences, Arwen's, or Sine's impulse stories sometimes do not get finished (to date, I have not yet completely finished a project yet. Or I haven't published it, that is). I do hope that I will have everyone's support in this story, because I promise that I will do my best to finish. I hold you all as witnesses.
Thanks, and enjoy the next chapter,
Sine