Date Started: July 6, 2005 9:28 PM Japan Time
Guess what? It's true, a new story from me has arrived. A new Kenshin story. Yes. I've had this story in mind for awhile, and at first I thought I wouldn't write it. Yet, here it is! In the flesh… umm… that is used as a metaphor. Bleh… I'm all technical and shit… with the time. But hey, I like to let my readers know how much time I take in writing the chapters and whatnot. With the success of my current story in the works, Butterfly Kisses, and it around halfway completed I feel that I can actually write this one and not desert Butterfly Kisses since reviewers tell me to continue. Well then, I have no title as of yet. I will get one soon. Maybe by the time I've finished this chapter. Till the AN at the end of the chapter, please read and enjoy!
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Untitled as of Now
Rating: Older Teens
Chapter 1
Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters in shape or form. I do own this plot and any changes I make to characters, as long as its legal. You steal you die.
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A figure walked down the dirt road. Head bent in the rain, protected by a simple straw hat, hiding all facial features. Dressed in traditional hakami and gi, a sword adorning his hip, the man slowly fought his way through the storm. A small wooden sign marked the road and the kanji for Kyoto reflected from the flash of lightning that struck through the sky. Dark eyes squinted through the rain, as they spotted lights ahead, and continuing on, he entered the city. No one was about on the streets, and all the shops were closed. Here and there you would hear the slam of a door sliding shut, or the sound of a cat meowing, but everything else was shut out by the pouring rain.
The person walked in front of a building, staring hard at the doors. There were lights shining through the shuttered windows. He walked under the shelter of the awning that was above the entrance out of the onslaught of rain. The mysterious man was soaked, water dripping from the ends of his long dark hair that was pulled back in a ponytail, the top of it hidden by the hat. He kept his face shadowed by the brim, and reached his left hand down, clicking the sword out of its sheath an inch. The door was inches away, he didn't care if it was locked. One moment it was there, the next it was on the ground in three separate pieces, the only knowledge of what had possibly been done to it was the sound of the blade being placed back in its home.
No one noticed from the inside. Entering the building, he slipped off his sandals, as well as the traditional socks he wore. They were far to muddy. Stepping up onto the honey colored, wooden floor of the building, he silently listened. He untied the knot from under his chin and the strings holding the straw hat on his head came loose, and he silently placed the hat next to his shoes. A delicate face this one had, the dim light of the hallway shadowing it, giving it a gaunt look. His eyes were closed in concentration. Black bangs were plastered to his forehead, his hand again resting on his katana.
Silently he moved, and followed the sounds of the boisterous laughter and drunken jokes of men. Again, he stopped, this time his eyes were open, a shade of blue so dark that they were close to black. He chose not to use his sword for the door this time, wanting to preserve his energy. A calloused but slender hand reached forward, and the thin fingers rested in the crevice like handle of the door, and waited. A few moments later, after careful consideration, the door slid open.
His cool eyes met the scene of about ten or fifteen men gathered round a large, low table. All but one were dressed in traditional garb. Most of the men in a casual kimono rather than gi and hakami. This was meant as a business get together, not a battle. Everyone stopped what they were doing when the door opened. The small saucer like cups of sake paused in preparation of being drunk. The room went dead silent. He remembered his orders, 'Kill the foreigner. He is the one on the inside. There can be no witnesses.' The dark blue depths met with light blue green eyes, filled with terror. The man was tall and blonde, and dressed as a British general.
A quiet but dead serious voice came from the now intruder, "All of you here." The voice paused as he let words sink in, and then continued in the same hypnotic voice, "Prepare to meet your maker."
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The amber eyes glinted as he spied on the assassin's mission. Whoever this man was, he was good. If he thought about it, this assassin was as skilled as him, if not better. He was grateful that this one was on his side, for it would be no fun thing to be on the other side of this one's blade. No name had been told to Battousai. All he had been told was to watch, and take in all that he saw. The top assassin in Japan, was about to receive a person to carry out his missions with: the one he was watching. The red head had not enjoyed being told he was to receive a partner. He had asked why. The response had simply been this: "the both of you have the same goal in the end."
The Hitokiri was not sure of what to make of that. He himself was not sure of what the goal was that he sought. His life right now was simply following orders and carrying them out. There could be no failure. Failure meant death.
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Barely five minutes passed, before every man in the room was dead. With the exception of the targeted one, the foreign general. The general had been mesmerized by the way this assassin fought with the sword. The dai katana had been barely visible with the speed it contained as it sliced through bodies. The accuracy of the said killer had been something he had never dreamt of seeing. The man knew he should be more concerned about escaping and saving his own skin, but it was impossible for him to move. It was as if he were paralyzed. What he had failed to notice, was that he actually was.
The eyes so hypnotizing looked towards him. The soaking wet man began walking towards him, "Any last requests?" The simple question asked. 'Just like an execution.' The thought ran through his mind. The immobile man replied, "Who are you?"
The blue eyes looked down as he contemplated the question. He gazed at his sword which was covered in blood, "An execution? You might call it that." The assassin had read his mind. "And me?" The voiced coyly answered, "I am known as Himetsu. I am the one who will take your life, thus ending your betrayal to the organization. Say good bye to this world." And without further ado, the paralyzed state was removed from his body and the man suddenly began to run in fear. He was not fast enough, and he knew he wasn't. The sword sang as it slashed through the man's stomach and curved up and met his heart, thus performing the instant death of a traditional Japanese suicide. If you remember the name for that please tell me… I can't remember
"And the secret shall live on." The eyes stared down as the light eyes dulled and rolled back into the man's head. Reaching down to the dead body, those delicate hands closed the dead eyes, and then flicked the blood of the katana, and re sheathed it. Leaping over all the dead bodies, he landed at the doorway and quickly exited the room. Once again at the entrance hall, he put his muddy socks back on and slipped on his sandals. He reached for the hat and put it back on his dark head, securing it with the strings. Then, as he had called himself, Himetsu left and walked right into the rain, which had lightened a little.
It did not take long before the man sensed the strong presence of another. He hid his ki, and walked towards where he felt the person was. A tree came into sight, and with trained eyes, saw through the rain a figure up in the tree, protected by a ledge of sorts from the weather, 'I know where you are. Stop hiding and show yourself before I must take matters into my own hands.'
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Battousai was at a loss. Had he just heard a voice inside his head! Yes, he had. And it had come from the little assassin, who was even smaller than him. Leaping down from the tree, he said, "Indeed, you are good. An idealistic match for partnership." The words were stated carefully.
"Partnership?" The cautious voice stated. This person never let his guard down. Just as Battousai never let his. Then he continued, "If you are indeed, the legendary Hitokiri who is to be 'my comrade,' prove that it is you. You should be able to match my skills, considering I was told and I have heard, that you are the best."
"Alright." Both persons drew their swords, going into a fighting stance. It seemed like hours passed before anyone made a move. They were testing each other, seeing who would break first. The red head had never been the one to make a first move, and he hoped to keep it that way. And, indeed, it did.
The raven haired man moved so swift that to the untrained eye he would not have been seen. However, being the top assassin, he was trained. The two swords clashed against each other, steel against steel. Neither wanted to relinquish the tension between swords. The strength in the blue eyed one was unbelievable, but, alas, it was not strong enough to beat the more experienced one.
Unexpectedly, Himetsu moved back his sword, and brought it down, Battousai barely escaping a slash to the stomach. The red head attacked the created opening of the chest, and managed to meet skin. A slight gasp escaped the now injured one's lips. He backed away, and then said, "Yes. I see it's true. You are the one and only Battousai. The shortest amount of time it has ever taken for me to receive a hit."
"You are hurt. I have supplies to tend your wound."
"NO!" The red head was caught off guard. He hadn't expected his opponent to shirk treatment that way. He had also caught a change in the tone of voice. It was no longer the low voice of a man, "I do not need your treatment." Definitely not a man's voice. The figure's head was bent, using his hat to hid his face entirely.
The small hands were placed over the wound that was bleeding. He was unsure of how serious the wound was, but it was a long gash, and if not treated soon, especially in this rain, it would risk infection. The victor moved towards him, to quick for the injured one to catch until he was already in front of him. Placing his hands on the slender shoulders, he smoothly and quietly said, "I just need to look at your wound. It will only take one second." And before anything else could be done, he removed the hands from his chest, and opened up the front of his gi. What surprised the man slayer more, was not the fact that his entire torso was wrapped up, nor that the wound was worse than it had looked, but the fact that this person had breasts. This assassin was no man. He was a woman.
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Hehehe… not to long but not to short of a chapter I hope. I don't like to start stories off with ten page chapters or anything. The next one will be longer. SOOOOOO what do you think? Is it good? Is it bad? I hope you weren't to bored with all this descriptiveness I did. But, I couldn't really create much dialogue. Next chapter will be more talkative, and who knows? Maybe we'll learn more about the whole point of this story. Hehehe… guess who the he/she assassin really is? Post a review with your answer and I'll let you know in chapter 2. Sorry if the scenes were a little confusing. The two man scenes were hard to write… especially with no names. But now that we have the point across that it is a man and woman I think it will make more sense. Also, Himetsu means 'secret.' Hmm… guess why the girl uses that name? --
Today is Tanabate, a star festival celebrated in Japan. So, make a wish, write it down on a strip of paper and stick it on a leafy bamboo tree thing. Your wishes WILL come true.
Hotaru
Date Finished: July 7, 2005 10:53 PM Japan Time