AU: So, I noticed that this one of the few series I did more than ONE fic for, and yet, I haven't tried to bastardize the series with an AU. I think it's time I changed that. LOL So here you go, my first ever Ruroken AU fic. This should be interesting. For the sake of the time they're in and such the ages will probably be modified. 3

Hero

Rurouni Kenshin au

By: DemonSaya

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ONE

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"He followed me home. Life hasn't been quite the same since."

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was a rat hole.

Literally.

He could still faintly smell the scent of cigarettes and marijuana permeating the air, the bed, the pillows. The drapes were moth-eaten, with random holes letting light through them. The sheets were scratchy, uncomfortable on his skin. From where he lay on the bed, he watched a cockroach scurry across the television screen.

Yep, a rat hole.

Unfortunately, he couldn't afford anything better. He wasn't wealthy. All he really had that were worth anything was the sword that he held against his chest and his name. Himura Kenshin. And he'd been on the road for going on ten years. Moving from city to city, never staying in one place too long so the cops wouldn't get suspicious. It didn't take long for the stories to start up when he went somewhere. They'd already started here, after all.

Whispers of someone going out and catching people in the act of doing wrong. Beating the hell out of them and leaving them at the polices doorstep, begging to confess to a crime. Whispers of a red-haired swordsman with terrifying golden eyes who called himself Hitokiri Battousai.

The stories grew more outrageous as time went on, some thought he was a big man, muscular and powerful, others thought he was a woman pretending to be a man. None of them knew him. None of them could ever know him. Because long ago, he'd learned the price of being known. The price was so steep he didn't care to be known ever again.

So on the outside, when he was Himura Kenshin, he played the mild-mannered traveling salesman, a little eccentric, perhaps even a bit goofy, never getting close enough to anyone so that they'd remember him long after he'd left. Never spending more than a week or two in a rat-infested apartment or hotel.

But inside, beneath the surface, the Hitokiri always stirred. It was a part of him now, a part that had been brought on by the death of a loved one. Battousai was his bloodthirsty, violent alter ego, the alter ego who would go walking at night and leave a mound of criminals in front of the police station.

Only one thing kept Battousai in check. One thing kept him from killing his opponents. It was the very thing he clutched to his chest as he stared at the news blankly. The sword, the sakabatou. He closed his violet eyes, resting his forehead against the swords grip. The reversed blade wouldn't kill anyone. Beat the hell out of them, sure. Make them wish they were dead, definitely.

But never kill.

A vow he'd made years ago. A vow he took very seriously.

"In other news, Hitokiri Battousai has been spotted in Sendai, just off the coast..."

He closed his eyes. Already? A sigh escaped him and he stood, grabbing his room key and tossing his belongings into the small bag. It was about time for check-out anyways. He grabbed the collection of decorative swords he was selling, hiding his sakabatou in the middle. He slipped them into a long narrow draw-string bag and left the room. A rat scurried from under the bed and to the food wrappers in the trash as he shut the door behind him.

He walked down the alley and when he reached the counter, he rang the little bell. "Suimasen de gozaru!" He called. No one answered. Not surprising. The man was probably stoned, or having his hour with a hooker. With a sigh, he rested a hand full of money on the counter, out of sight, resting his key on it. Then, he turned and walked out of the alley and onto the main street of Sendai.

It was time to move on.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

"This is Kamiya Kaoru, Channel 7 news, Tokyo. Goodnight."

With a heavy sigh, she pulled the microphone from her shirt and tossed it onto the desk. This vigilante, this Hitokiri Battousai seemed to be enjoying this game of cat and mouse he was playing with the police. He'd been sighted all over the country, with descriptions varying from a petite woman to a giant man. The only consistencies from story to story were the red hair and the fact that he used a sword.

But she'd seen the photos of the men who'd been arrested. There wasn't a scratch on them.

Kaoru sighed, standing and stretching her arms over her head. There was lots of hearsay surrounding this myth, this Hitokiri Battousai. She wasn't sure how she felt about the whole situation. But she was certain of this, there was more guess work than fact about him. It didn't help that long before the police could track him down, he'd pretty much vanished. No one seemed to remember ever seeing anyone by that description.

She shuffled through her papers, frowning deeply. This was her story. Her 'big one'. The thing that launched her into journalism. She was the face of the ten o'clock news, but it wasn't her passion. It was her job. She wasn't a reporter because she liked it. She was a reporter because she could string more than two legible sentences together and she was reasonably attractive.

She'd just been biding her time, waiting for the big one. Her Moby Dick. Her great white whale of a story that was going to land her into a job where she could work from home, devoting more time to her father's kendo dojo on the outskirts of town.

Now, if only she could get some facts amongst all this damn speculation!

With a grumbled sigh, she scooped up her papers, stuffing them into her paper boy bag. She put it over her head, slipping one arm through it, feeling it resting on the opposite shoulder. It was heavy, partially due to the nine millimeter semi auto she kept tucked into it. After all, if there was anything Kamiya Kaoru was, it wasn't stupid. She was twenty three, female, petite, and attractive enough. That made her a scumbag target.

So on nights like tonight, where she didn't have a ride home, she'd have the gun tucked into her waistband, and a hand on it at all times.

She opened her drawer, pulling off her high heals and tossed them into the drawer, pulling out a pair of comfortable walking shoes. She sighed blissfully as she slipped her feet into them. She didn't care for pumps, but they were a job requirement. Why, she wasn't sure. After all, nobody was looking at her feet. She hummed a few bars of her favorite song, pushing the drawer closed with a flourish and heading towards the door. Before stepping outside, she pulled the gun from her bag and tucked it where it belonged, ignoring the startled looks from several men as she did so.

She got varying responses from men who discovered she packed heat. To some it was a turn on, to others a turn off. She just thought it was a good idea. She'd gone out and received her certification as soon as she left her home at her father's insistence. She wasn't going to be one of the victims.

As Kaoru walked down the street, she made sure to walk down the middle, far from either side, and kept to the well lighted areas. She also made certain she didn't sink so deeply into her thoughts that she was no longer paying attention.

One moments distraction was all it took to become a victim anymore.

That vigilance is why she noticed so quickly that someone was following her. Or was at least walking behind her. She took a steadying breath and decided that she should test and turn a random corner. So at the next intersection, she turned right and stopped around the corner.

Whoever it was turned behind her and ran smack into her, falling back onto his proverbial backside.

"Ororoooo..." Came a dazed voice.

She found herself staring down at a petite red haired man, who had decorative swords now scattered around him. He had a small bag near his other hand and was wearing a rather tattered looking pair of jeans and t-shirt. Quickly, she shook off the mental start she did. No way this was Hitokiri Battousai. That would just be too damn much of a coincidence. "Why the hell are you following me?" She asked, her hand tightening on the grip of her weapon.

Eyes glanced at her mid-section and then up at her face. Understanding filled them. "I wasn't following you. I was going to ask you a question de gozaru."

She blinked at his odd speech pattern and frowned slightly. "A question?"

The smile was broad and innocent. "Do you know of an inexpensive apartment or motel that might let a traveling salesman stay for a few weeks?"

She stared at him, dumbfounded. He had to be joking. But his posture said he wasn't. "Traveling salesman?" She asked evenly, not taking her hand off her weapon. "What do you sell?"

"Decorative swords." He explained, moving into a kneeling position and picking up the swords that had scattered when he'd fallen. He examined the bag and frowned deeply. "Oro? A hole?" A heavy sigh escaped him. "I hope they weren't damaged..."

She glanced down at her watch and sighed. It was nearing 11:30. "Look, mister, you're on the wrong side of town for anything inexpensive. And it's not safe walking around at night without protection." She eyed the swords, then heaved a sigh. "Okay, tell you what..." She wanted to go home and sleep, not stand here all night. "You can use my couch for the night. It's not great, but it's better than nothing." She saw the surprised expression on his face and frowned. "What?"

He was shocked. She didn't know him, but she was extending a hand in assistance. "Arigatou, de gozaru." He said and smiled.

She sighed, beginning to walk. She heard him fall into step beside her and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. He was definitely an odd one. He walked with an odd kind of grace, his eyes roving back and forth, as though he were on guard as well. His thick red hair was pulled low into a pony tail, hanging slightly in front of his violet eyes. He wasn't the least attractive man she'd ever met.

In one arm he carried the majority of the swords. One he kept in his other hand.

A frown turned down her lips. "Next time you decide to sell in Tokyo, take my advice." She said evenly. "Go during the day. People in this town tend to turn a blind eye when someone needs help, and if you aren't careful, or armed with something better than a decorative sword, you're going to get hurt."

He smiled faintly. "Decorative or not, if one knows what they are doing, they can be an efficient form of self-defense." He said, glancing towards her. She was walking slightly in front of him, her eyes glancing towards him. "And a sword doesn't run out of bullets."

She looked towards him fully. "And you know what you're doing?" She asked pointedly.

"Sessha wouldn't say that de gozaru yo." He said, smiling broadly. He continued walking, that borderline vapid expression on his face.

She stared at him in confusion. Then, a snort escaped her. "You're an odd character." She said finally. A sharp clicking sound made them freeze, and she mentally cursed herself. She'd stopped paying attention. Slowly, she turned towards the sound and saw a man with a smirk on his face. He was rather large, and he had a sword strapped onto his belt.

"You're that bitch Kamiya Kaoru..." The man sneered.

She didn't flinch, but she heard the sharp intake of air from her companion. "Maybe I am." She said evenly.

A rough laugh. "Quit looking for the Hitokiri, bitch, or you're going to find yourself in a world of trouble." The man snarled. He moved towards her, pointing the gun in her face. The cold metal brushed against her forehead. "Or you might get a lead meal..."

She sensed the man behind her moving slowly and she frowned. What the hell was he doing. He wasn't making any noise. Why wasn't he making any noise. "I'm only a reporter." She said calmly, as if it weren't the first time someone had put a gun in her face. She saw the finger tightening on the trigger. "Why does it matter to you, anyways, you Battousai or something?" She taunted.

"Yeah. I am." The finger tightened rapidly, and the gun went off.

She squeaked, expecting to have her brain splattered on the cement. She felt the air current the bullet made as it whipped over her head, a direct line along her part. She opened her eyes and saw the man with the red hair had pushed the man's hand up so quickly that both she and the man were completely stunned. Her jaw sagged a bit when she watched him pull the gun easily from the man's grasp.

"Mr. Battousai..." The red-head taunted slightly. "Maybe you should run along elsewhere. Or some good Samaritan may come to the ladies rescue." He stared at the man dead in the eye, but Kaoru couldn't see what was going on between them.

"Hmph." The man snatched his gun back. "You remember this, bitch. Keep that name out of the news. And you'd better keep your guard dog close or you might find yourself dead next time..." With that, the man turned tail and ran.

She didn't even notice. She was too busy staring at the back of the red-haired man before her. He turned slowly and gave her one of those oddly vapid smiles. That was not the person who'd just spoken to the Hitokiri. "Funny how someone thinks they can strap on a sword and call themselves Battousai." He said idly, looking where the man had gone. When he looked back, she could have sworn she saw a flicker of gold in the violet depths. "Are you alright, Kamiya Kaoru-dono?" He asked, gently taking her elbows and helping her stand.

She paused, checking herself over. "Yeah." She said softly. "Just startled." She was also mentally cursing herself for letting her guard down and getting caught in a situation like that to begin with.

Faint amusement covered his face. "Then let us get you home." He said, releasing her and stepping back, his face friendly, but detached.

They made the rest of the walk in silence and Kaoru got the impression that he was thinking of his own mistakes that had led up to the attack. She was mentally screaming ever obscenity that she knew for making such a foolish mistake. She never, NEVER put her attention on any one thing, she never got so lost in her thoughts that she let her guard down.

So what had happened?

She unlocked her door to her apartment and walked inside, hearing the man she barely knew walking in behind her. And why on Earth was she letting a complete stranger into her apartment? She turned, finding the man looking around the apartment with an appreciative expression.

"Your home is very nice de gozaru." He said quietly.

"This isn't my home." She said calmly. "It's where I live. My home is the dojo I grew up in." Well, that was a personal bit of information she just spat out to a complete stranger. "Well, Mr. Salesman, I'll get you some blankets, and there's the couch." She pointed, heading towards the hall. "Bathrooms at the end of the hall. Don't mind the mess."

She opened her linen closet and huffed. What the hell was she doing? She should just walk out there and kick that man out before he got too comfortable. Yet, he'd saved her. He'd prevented her from being shot. So she supposed she owed him something. A night on her couch wasn't too far a stretch. She pulled out a few blankets and sheets and a towel, in case he wanted to shower. When she returned, she saw him standing by the window in her living room, moonlight lighting half of his face, the other half cast in shadow by the drapes. From where she stood, it seemed like he was straddling the line between good and evil, light and darkness.

What an odd thought.

"Here." She dropped the stack on the end of the couch and straightened. "There's a towel if you want a shower. I'm going to bed. Goodnight." Then, she turned towards he hallway.

"Thank you, Kaoru-dono."

His voice was quiet, gentle. Understanding.

She turned to look back and found he wasn't looking at her. He looked so peaceful. Calm and serene. There was a faint smile on his face. Dammit. "Thank you, too." She said softly. She'd turned back to the hallway, so she never saw his head whip towards her and his eyes widen in shock.

She walked down the hallway with measured strides and entered her bedroom, closing and locking the door behind her. It was nothing personal. But he was a stranger. Just because he'd saved her didn't mean she was obligated to trust him.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

Kenshin heard her bedroom door lock and smiled faintly. She was a tough one. She didn't even flinch when the man held the gun to her head. She was also compassionate. Many would have left him to rot in the street overnight.

He had to admit, he hadn't expected her to be so astute. She noticed he was following her quickly. It had taken some quick mental chess to think of something that would seem innocent enough. He'd never expected her to offer him a place to spend the night. It was a kindness that would not soon be forgotten. It had been years since he'd last received such a kindness.

He picked up the towel, heading towards the bathroom. It would be wise to shower in a clean place, since he was uncertain the next time he'd have a chance to do so. He opened the door and understood what she meant by mess. He smiled a bit, picking the towels off the floor and hanging them up to finish drying. A few he gave a cursory sniff and tossed into the laundry basket. Clothing went straight into the laundry. He wound the cord around her hair dryer and arranged her make-up by height with the tallest at the back. He put her hair brush beside her hair dryer and put her tooth brush and paste in the small plastic cup.

He started the water and tested it, sighing blissfully at the warmth. It had been weeks since he'd been able to take a warm shower. Many of the hotels he'd wound up staying in didn't have much in the way of hot water and most of that was used to clean wounds.

Her soap was lightly scented, but it was a spicy scent, like sandalwood. It was a nice scent. He thought it would be a more flowery scent. He stood under the spray, his face lifted to the falling water, pondering this situation. Someone was using his other name. Someone was using it to do harm. That would not do. He could not leave this alone. He was going to have to find out why and stop this soon. Hitokiri Battousai was not a murderer. He was a vigilante, but only because he didn't let the crime happen first. He tried to impose himself on the fate of those who weren't able to protect themselves.

Like Kamiya Kaoru that night.

That caused his frown to deepen. She was a reporter. She was the one who often reported on him. He'd seen her many times on scene, investigating one of the scenes of his sightings. He didn't understand why she was so interested in the Hitokiri, but one thing was certain. If she found out, he would have to leave.

Or he'd be found out.

That opened him up to far too many things that weren't good. Last time he'd opened himself like that, he'd gotten his heart ripped out and pretty much shredded into tiny little pieces.

He closed his eyes, extending his arms, pressing his fists into the shower wall. His head fell between his arms, and a heavy sigh escaped him. It didn't do to dwell on the memories of yesterday. Especially if they might interfere with the actions of tomorrow. He turned off the shower, grabbed his towel and stepped out. As he dried off, he looked in the mirror.

Tomorrow would be spent hunting. When he'd learned what he needed, it would be spent following. Then, tomorrow night...

He saw the flicker of gold in his violet eyes. Tomorrow, the Hitokiri would make his displeasure known.

He pulled on a pair of cotton pants and gathered the laundry. It took a little looking, but he found her laundry closet quickly enough and started a load, moving about the apartment, cleaning up things that he didn't think she'd mind him doing.

He walked past the kitchen and stopped, staring. Every dish in the house had to be dirty for a pile that large. That also explained the suspicious scent. He grabbed the chef apron and pulled it over his head, tying it behind his back. As for tonight...it looked like he would be thanking the woman further for her hospitality. Then, he dove into the dishes.

0o0o0o0o0o0o0

It was almost nine in the morning when her alarm beeped to life. She rolled out of bed and stretched with a long groan. Then, all the memories from the night before came crashing down around her.

Her father would have been disappointed. He had trained her better than that. You never, NEVER let your guard down. Never. Letting your guard down is what gets people killed. She groaned, looking into the mirror on her vanity. "Sorry, papa." She said softly.

Then, further realizations began to crash around her. She had to do laundry, dishes, clean her damn bathroom, and she'd forgotten to wash her face last night after work. She'd been in such a hurry to put space between herself and her odd guest that she completely data dumped everything she always did.

What the hell was wrong with her?!

She grabbed her robe and pulled it around herself tightly, then opened the door. The house was oddly quiet. She stepped into the hallway and stared up and down the hall. Nothing. It was like a tomb. She walked silently into the living room and found it empty. On the couch in a neat stack were the blankets she'd pulled out for her guests use. It looked like every available surface in the apartment had been dusted. The collection of newspapers she'd been keeping were in a neat stack on the table.

She was going nuts.

Huffing, she walked into the kitchen to make a cup of coffee and stared in utter shock. Stacked neatly in the drying rack were all the dishes that had been dirty the night before. One still had drops of water clinging to it as though it was freshly washed. In her coffee pot was freshly brewed coffee, and a clean cup sat beside it, ready for use. Looking in her rice cooker, she found hot rice ready to eat. In her fridge was a container of fresh onigiri, and some tamago.

She dropped into a chair stunned. The only logical reason she could think for all this was that strange man who'd spent the night on her couch. So, either the salesman was also severely obsessive compulsive, or he was trying to thank her.

It seemed a little excessive. After all, he had saved her life.

Curiously, she went around her apartment and found freshly washed laundry folded on her dryer, and her bathroom had been straightened. But the traveling salesman was gone. So she made a cup of coffee and dished up a meal and sat down in her kitchen to eat. She continued to look at the couch where he'd slept and frowned a bit. An unhappy sigh escaped her and she bit her lip.

Now she'd never get a chance to say thank you.

She didn't however, get much time to dwell on that fact. Someone knocked on her door and she moved towards it, looking cautiously through the peep hole. It was Tae, her neighbor, the one who usually brought her food in the mornings, due to her completely abysmal cooking talent. It was something they often laughed about, since she was so terrible at cooking it had to be considered a talent. Slowly she opened the door, waiting for the questions.

"Holy crap..." Tae said walking in. "Did you go compulsive overnight?"

"I didn't do this." Kaoru said, walking to the kitchen, hearing Tae follow her. She'd seen the small bento in her hands and bit her lip.

"So what, did the home gnomes move in and no one told me?" She sat at the table and set the bento down, staring stunned at the food. "You didn't cook that. The eggs are the right consistency and..." She pinched off a corner. "Holy crap!"

"I had a guest." Kaoru explained, picking up her coffee and looking around. "I don't understand what compelled him to-"

"HIM?!" Tae sat upright and leaned forward. "Kaoru, did you at least make him wear protection?!"

She knew she was having a brain spasm then, because it took Kamiya Kaoru, a very intelligent woman, more than a minute to understand what should have only taken seconds. "TAE! I didn't sleep with him! He slept on the couch!"

The woman pouted, but relaxed. "So who was he? Friend?"

Kaoru stared into her cup troubled. "A traveling salesman." She said, taking a sip of her coffee. "I ran into him, or more accurately, he ran into me..." She pondered that for a few moments. When her friend made a slightly impatient sound, she snapped out of her reverie. "He was looking for a cheep place to stay, and it was eleven o'clock at night. I wasn't about to send him to where he could find them at night when his only protection were a couple of decorative swords." She huffed, looking towards her window, where he'd stood before she'd gone to bed.

"He could have been a rapist! Or a murderer! Or a murdering rapist!"

"I don't think so." She said softly. She looked towards her friend slowly. "He saved my life."

Tae stared at her stunned, and Kaoru looked back towards the window, sinking into silence. She had sensed him moving the night before, but she hadn't heard a sound. He'd obviously turned her apartment upside down the night before, but he hadn't woken her up with the cleaning. He'd had some kind of martial arts training to be able to move that quietly. Yet, when he'd been walking behind her, she'd heard him. Very clearly.

She bit her lip, frowning. Something else stood out in her memory. How quickly he'd moved in front of her, with a single motion, had knocked the gun that had been almost on her face out of the way so quickly that she the bullet hadn't hit her. In his hand, he'd held one of the decorative swords. She could remember seeing it flash moments before the gun had gone off. That meant the sword had left the sheath. The faint sound of a click as it was returned into it's home.

That sword was not decorative.

So what the hell was a man doing running around with a real sword?!

She looked towards Tae in bafflement and realization dawned on her. "I think he might have been Hitokiri Battousai." She said, completely dumb struck. It seemed completely impossible, illogical. It didn't make sense at all. Yet, at the same time, it made complete sense. The way he acted made it hard to think ill of him. His comment to the man who'd attacked her, and his subsequent actions. But why the hell did Hitokiri Battousai clean her house?

"What?!" Tae gasped. "Are you sure?!"

Kaoru bit her lip, frowning deeply. "Yeah. I think I am..."

0o0o0o0o0o0

AN: Well, there's the first chapter. Please tell me what you think. I'm going to try to keep this one going for awhile, but beware there will probably be slow updates. I'm very busy and I have about a million and one unfinished projects. I'm going to let it be up to the readers to decide whether or not this gets finished. The number of reviews will directly correlate with whether or not another chapter is done. Anyways, you know the drill. Click the little button at the bottom and let me know what you think! Love, Peace, and Red-Haired samurai -DemonSaya-