Disclaimer: Sorry, but I'm not Watsuki and I don't own Ruroken. Heck... I'm not even Japanese!
His Longest Walk
He'd been walking for hours now. His mind blank. His eyes cold, dead. He had no idea where he was. Couldn't feel the wind biting into his skin or the snow mixing with his blood. He hardly felt her weight in his arms. Everything had become automatic, just as it had been when he'd killed her.
He was covered in blood, and he wasn't even sure what was hers and what was his. But that was fitting. Their closeness had awakened life for him. Of course in death, they would remain close.
He continued walking down the steep slope to their home. The place they had once shared. Not far now.
He kept walking, completely numb. Partially from the cold, partially from shock, and partially from loss of blood. He didn't know how he'd lived so long, bleeding as he was. He suspected that this was part of his punishment. That he would not be allowed to die and be with her.
He would never be with her again.
He walked for what seemed like ages. The cottage was in view now, and the full import of what had happened suddenly sank in, weighing him down far more than she ever could.
He suddenly realized that he'd have to make arrangements. He'd have to prepare the body. Perhaps bury her like the last women who had died for him.
He paused at that thought. No, she didn't need a burial. Didn't need a cross. She was buried in his mind and his heart. Her cross marked his cheek.
He would burn her with the cottage. Free her from the confines of this world, and give himself a chance to start over.
It seemed that with every person he failed to protect. Every cross he was forced to bear... he was destined to start over and try again. First as Shinta, then as Battousai... Perhaps this time would be different. He had let others lead him in the past. Perhaps it was time for him to find the truth of the world for himself.
When the war was over. When Battousai was no longer needed. He would bury that name... or burn it... and start fresh as a rurouni. A wanderer with no connections. Her cross would be his. Marking the death of hitokiri Battousai. He would be nameless.
Because that way, if he didn't find his truth, at least he wouldn't have attachments. Wouldn't have to love again. And no one would care to die for him.
He looked down once more at her lifeless face.
Never again.
Her death would not be in vain.
Author's Note: I know it's rough. My friend, Joel challenged me to write a fiction on the spot with no more than a minute of prep time. I wasn't allowed to use a plot I'd already planned or anything. This is what came out. I've edited it a bit (some parts REALLY needed it), but for the most part, I tried to keep it the same. I hope you like it in all of its "written in under five minutes" glory. Please review!