Hi all, here's some more! It's a long one!
C&C is welcome and appreciated. ^_^
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki-sensei, Sony and
others who have been so kind as to grace us with their work and
give me something else to obsess over. ^_^
*Warning: MAJOR spoliers for the Revenge story arc in the manga,
and the OAVs (though I tend to use the manga as my primary
source).
The Snow Raven, Chapter 4
a Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic
by Krista Perry
~*~
Crush the wounded soul
or heal with compassion's balm...
Means to the same end?
- excerpt from the private diary of Yukishiro Tomoe
~*~
Himura is avoiding me.
I do not know whether to feel frustrated... or relieved.
But I suppose I should not be surprised after our unpleasant
exchange nearly two weeks ago.
I wonder if he is thinking about what I said?
Well, whether he is or not, he is clearly frustrated that I
refuse to leave; that I have taken up permanent residence within
his own personal sanctuary.
He... could force me to leave. Of that, I am sure. It is
definitely within his power.
But he does not. And when I briefly told Okami-san the
result of what had happened between us that first night, she only
chuckled and said, "I knew he wouldn't have the heart to throw
you out."
Well... perhaps not. But he is still avoiding me.
Each evening, when my chores are finished, I go to his
room... and he is not there. I suspect he slips out the window
when he hears me coming. As to where he goes, and what he does
all night while I sleep on his futon inside his room, I do not
know.
I do not think he is... killing. For I know he only kills
when he is attacked... or when he is given an assignment... and I
do not think he has been given an assignment since my arrival. I
don't know why I think this, but... there is just a feel about
him. A tenseness. A waiting. And with each day that passes...
the feeling builds.
Aside from this, Okami-san has told me that her laundry has
lately been free of bloodstains.
I wonder if he just wanders the Kyoto streets at night. He
seems like a confused ghost, haunting the inn only during
daylight hours, and fleeing with nightfall. All to avoid my
company.
Whatever he does in his nocturnal absence, he is not
sleeping. Each morning, when I rise to make breakfast, the very
next time I pass by his room, without fail, I find him there
again, sitting against the window bench with his swords in his
lap, his head bowed against his chest as he dozes.
Like now.
I slide the door open with my broom in hand, making no
effort to be quiet, and he lifts his head, immediately alert, and
clearly annoyed at my intrusion.
"I'm going to clean," I tell him plainly. "Please leave the
room for a while."
He grunts, not moving from his perch against the window. "I
never asked you to clean."
"There is a buildup of nearly two weeks' worth of dust in
here," I explain, "because until now, I have not disturbed you in
your strange sleeping habits. I wouldn't disturb you even now,
but Okami-san asked me to take care of it."
Himura sighs heavily, and runs one hand through his red
bangs as he stands with irritated resignation, and I silently
thank Okami-san for the small power that just mentioning her name
gives me. I doubt that I could have budged him otherwise.
Hanging his swords at his side, he then looks over at the
small table where his books are scattered, and reaches down,
apparently looking for some suitable reading material to pass the
time during his unwilling displacement. His hand pauses over a
blank white book...
... and I feel my breath catch in my throat as he picks it
up curiously.
*Oh no! I forgot to put it away last night!*
"That's my diary," I say, hoping that the sudden panic I
feel doesn't reflect in my voice. "I would rather you didn't
read it."
Ano... that was the wrong thing to say, because Himura's
eyes widen further with inquisitiveness as he looks at the book
in his hands...
...right before I come up to him and pluck it from his loose
grip.
We look at each other a moment. My mask is in place... but
his expression, as usual, is easily read, and he seems quite
perplexed and annoyed... especially when I tuck the book in the
front of my obi, away from his curious gaze. "For safe keeping,"
I say, turning away. And then I pretend to occupy myself with
sweeping the floor for a moment, waiting to see how he will
respond.
But he doesn't say a word. He merely walks out the door.
The feeling of his near-palpable vexation follows after him.
Only then do I sigh with relief. And then, looking at the
table, I realize...
Hm... he forgot to take a book with him.
I do not think he will come back for one. He is too
proud... and too angry with me.
I suppose he'll find something else to occupy his time while
he waits for me to clean the room, but still...
Why do I feel so guilty? Because, once again, I have driven
him away from the only place where he might have a bit of peace?
Does he even deserve peace?
But if he doesn't... why do I feel so guilty?
I sweep the floor listlessly for a bit...
Then, without thinking, I rest the broom against the wall,
and look over the books, picking up the one I remember seeing
open most recently, and go out into the hallway.
I don't know which way he went. But, turning, I see
Iidzuka-san, Himura's lanky, droopy-eyed comrade, as he walks out
the front entrance, and I decide to look that way first.
I turn the corner... and see Himura standing in the hall,
straight and rigid, like a statue.
"There you are," I say, as I walk up to him, holding out the
book in my hand...
... and then I see his face.
His eyes are hard and flat. His jaw is set tight. He is
staring at his hands. Instinctively, my eyes follow his, and I
see that, in one hand, he holds... a black envelope.
A black envelope...
My blood turns to ice in my veins as I suddenly
understand...
For some reason I can barely comprehend, I am still holding
out the book. "I... I thought you might want..." I cannot
finish my sentence. The words are catching in my throat. The
sight of that black envelope fills me with such dread that I
cannot breathe.
Himura wordlessly takes the book from my hands. His head is
lowered, his bangs shadow his eyes. The black envelope lies
crushed within his fist.
He knew I was coming. He could have hidden it in his
sleeve.
He allowed me to see it. He wants me to know.
*Why?* I want to ask. *Do you think to frighten me so that
I'll leave you alone? How can I? How can I leave you alone now
that I know... now that I know that...*
"...Someone is going to die tonight," I whisper.
There is a name within that envelope. The name of a walking
dead man... someone who doesn't know that he only has a few more
hours of life left to him. Does he have a family? A wife and
children, perhaps?
A fiancee?
"This is war," Himura says, his voice quiet and lifeless.
"People die in wars. People... kill in wars. But... if it means
a better life for everyone later on..."
"For everyone except the dead," I say. "And those the dead
leave behind."
He looks up at me, then... and his face is a mask as flat
and emotionless as mine.
"I do what needs to be done," he says, his voice hardening
with conviction.
I cannot think of anything to say to that...
"Let me know when you are through cleaning," he says,
tucking the book that I gave him under one arm. "I'll be in the
garden."
And then he turns and walks away.
I stare after him silently.
When he is gone... I return to his room.
And I clean.
~*~
The night comes all too quickly.
Okami-san noticed my tense expression earlier, and asked me
what was wrong. When I told her, her face paled, and she nodded
tightly. "I was wondering when the next one would be. It's been
a while. I was hoping..."
A while... It has only been two weeks since he killed that
man who attacked him in the streets. How long is a while? How
often do these "assignments" come, dressed in black envelopes,
heralding yet another rain of blood on the Kyoto night?
Himura is already gone when I enter his room. The window is
still open slightly, and the cool night air flows around me,
causing my lamp to flicker briefly in the breeze.
I can't sleep.
He is out there, in the dark, right now. Killing someone.
The name in that black envelope.
Probably some high-ranking Shogunate official. Someone who
stands in the way of the Ishin Shishi rebellion.
His eyes are probably wild and feral amber now, all his
humanity buried beneath his fierce conviction that, for some
greater good that he can only imagine, he must kill. Kill, not
with the desperate slaughter of the battlefield... but with
careful, calculated deliberation. Stalking his victims. Calling
them by name. Telling them, as he steps from the shadows, his
burning eyes flat and soulless, that he comes to deliver divine
justice. Tenchu.
I spread out the futon with mindless automation, and slip
under the blanket, shivering.
I can't sleep.
~*~
I hear him return in the early morning hours, when the dark
is at its deepest.
I've been listening for him intently. I do not hear his
footsteps, for when he does not want to be heard, only the grave
is more silent.
Instead, I hear the sound of pouring water. Water sloshing,
dripping...
Without another thought, I am standing, wrapping my shawl
around me because of the night chill, and heading towards the
sound. It is coming from near the kitchen. The wash room.
I slide open the door... and he is standing there on the
dirt floor, his hands plunged up to his wrists in a bucket of
water.
Washing his hands. Washing. He doesn't even acknowledge my
presence at all.
How long has he been at this? How long, before I finally
heard him from his room? For I can see that he has already
emptied two wash buckets, and the water in the bucket before him
is clear, yet still he scrubs at his hands... trying to wash away
blood that only he can see...
"Himura," I whisper. "Do you... intend to go on murdering
people forever?"
He does not answer. I know he hears me.
And, looking at his eyes, heavy with resignation... I think
he knows that he is slowly going mad; that, with each new death,
his soul is decaying within him, bit by bit...
Yet even so, there is a determination within him... a
determination that, before he loses himself completely, he will
do everything he can to bring about this "better life" for
others...
*I do what needs to be done.*
There is no joy in this for him, no pleasure... I can see
that now.
He doesn't look at me. He doesn't speak. He just stares at
his hands... and washes, over and over and over...
All I can do is watch.
And wish, suddenly... that I knew him before...
~*~
I am moving through my daily chores like a mindless wraith.
My head feels hollow and heavy, and my movements are sluggish as
I work purely on instinct, barely aware of what I am doing. I am
so tired...
There was nothing I could do. Nothing I could say to him
last night that could change anything. In my weariness, I
finally left him, returning to his room alone, only to
immediately slip into the dark comforting oblivion of an
exhausted, dreamless sleep.
I do not know how long he stood there, washing his hands,
but I can't help but think, from the look on his face, that he
could not have done enough to satisfy him. But however long he
stood there, he must have gone back out into the night when he
was through.
It is almost noon, and I have passed by his room several
times... but he is not there.
Where could he have gone? Why has he not returned? What is
he thinking?
So lost am I in these thoughts that I nearly run into
Iidzuka-san as I turn the corner of the hallway.
"Whoa, pardon me, Tomoe-san," he says, stumbling back a step
to avoid the collision.
I offer him a hasty bow. "Sumimasen," I apologize. "I'm
afraid I was not paying attention."
He brushes off my apology with a wave of his hand. "Don't
worry about it." He looks down at me with those sagging eyes.
The smile on his thin face seems friendly enough... yet, there is
something underneath it that makes me... uneasy. "You're just
the person I was looking for anyway," he says. "I've been
meaning to ask you something."
"Indeed?" I ask, looking at him with my calm mask in place,
though my mind is whirling. What could he possibly want to talk
to me about? Most of the Ishin Shishi who frequent this inn
speak to me rarely, and only then if it is concerning the service
of meals. I suspect they are afraid to approach me more often,
simply because of my association with Himura.
"It's about Battousai," Iidzuka-san says.
I wince inwardly. I despise the nickname they have given
him; a word that praises his efficiency and method of killing.
Even worse is that he seems to have accepted it for himself. My
distaste at hearing him referred to by this name, that goes hand
in hand with his title of Hitokiri, burns through my worry about
being questioned. "If it is about Himura-san," I respond,
deliberately referring to him by his most respectful name, "then
would you not be better informed by putting your question to
him?"
He raises an eyebrow at me in surprise for a moment, before
chuckling. "Perhaps I would, since you seem to be even more
evasive in answering than he is." He shakes his head. "But in
this instance, I don't think he could answer my question, even if
he wanted to."
Thin threads of fear begin to steal through my heart. Has
he seen through my charade? Has he surmised my original purpose
in coming here?
"What I want to know is, what did you say to him yesterday?"
I blink. That wasn't a question I was expecting at all.
"Pardon?"
"You know," Iidzuka-san says, crossing his arms and leaning
against the wall. "After I gave him the black envelope. I saw
the two of you talking in the hallway."
My relief that he is not questioning me about my past is
dampened with the onset of a new sort of dread. So... Iidzuka-
san is the one who delivers the demands of death. The tall,
lanky man before me has suddenly lost his air of harmlessness.
"I am afraid I do not understand," I say with a quiet tone of
deferring politeness, "how our private conversations could be of
any consequence to you."
"But they are," he says, still smiling. "Battousai is my
responsibility. Kogoro-sama assigned me to watch out for him.
And he's been acting strange, ever since your little conversation
in the hallway. Hell, even before that, but whatever you said
yesterday... I didn't think it was possible for him to become
even more quiet and anti-social than he already was, but what
ever you said to him sure did the trick."
I regard him evenly. "I am still not sure I understand how
this affects you."
"It *wouldn't* affect me," he responds, smoothing his thin
moustache in an absent gesture with one finger, "except for one
thing. Last night, on his assignment, he seemed to be... off a
bit."
A chill ripples across my skin at the reminder of the dark
deeds of the previous night. "'Off?'" I repeat quietly.
"Yeah. Don't get me wrong, he still got the job done, and
anyone else probably wouldn't have noticed. But I've been
watching him do his job for over a year now, and I can tell. His
skill with the sword was just... off."
I look at him silently, not knowing how to respond. *You
watch?* I want to ask incredulously. *You stand back and let him
kill, and take mental notes on how good he is at ending life with
a flash of his blade?*
"You don't like what he does, do you," he says suddenly,
looking at me with a slightly bemused expression. It is not a
question, and it takes me off guard.
I cannot respond. All the replies coming to my lips are
less than polite.
Iidzuka-san shrugs in the face of my silence. "Oh well,
maybe it really isn't any of my business. Who am I to interfere
with lovers' quarrels? I need to track down Battousai anyway."
And so saying, he straightens and fiddles with his sleeve for a
moment...
...allowing me to catch a glimpse of black envelope he has
kept concealed within.
My heart plummets within me.
Another one. So soon. So soon...
I must have gone pale, because he regards me with something
almost akin to seriousness. "You knew what he was when he
brought you here, Tomoe-san," he says. "And I'm sure you must
have your reasons for staying. But I'll tell you one thing. If
you keep messing with his mind like that, you're going to get him
killed eventually."
He says it so casually that, for a startled moment, it
almost sounds like encouragement.
But no... his expression is grim, his droopy eyes heavy-
lidded, as he turns from me and walks away, leaving me to wonder
at his words...
~*~
Once again, I sit alone in his room as the evening swallows
the day with darkness.
I should write in my diary. But my thoughts and feelings
seem so muddled and confused... I do not even know what to write.
Himura has been gone all day. Or, if he has returned, he
has kept himself well hidden from my sight.
The thought... pains me. And the very fact that it does...
No. It cannot be. To even think such a thing...
I wonder if he has even had a chance to sleep, since the
night before. He must be tired...
I wonder if Iidzuka-san found him, to give him the latest...
assignment.
All these thoughts whirl in my head so overwhelmingly that I
feel faint. I raise a trembling hand to my forehead to ease the
ache that throbs behind my eyes, but it does no good...
Ah, what am I doing here? Why can't I understand what is
happening to me?
It should be so simple. My mind tells me that I have come
to bestow vengeance on the murderer of my beloved.
And yet... with every rare moment spent with him, my soul is
tossed about, like a paper boat lost at sea amidst a raging
tempest. Each quiet word he speaks, each glance from his amber
eyes, drives the memory of revenge from me until I am filled only
with him, and the agony of his existence. And the pain is so
exquisite. Beautiful and terrible all at once...
Just like him...
I... I cannot think on this more. I cannot...
I... have some sewing that needs to be done. Quickly, I
gather my materials. A tattered garment. My needle cushion.
Spindles of scarlet thread. Before I kneel to my task, I light
the tall red sandalwood lamp on the floor before me, the warm
light of flame shining through its paper screens illuminating the
small room, chasing away the shadows of fading twilight.
Within moments, I lose myself in the rhythmic preciseness of
moving the silver needle. Guided by my hands, it bites in and
out of the worn yukata, a thread of silk flying behind, mending
the fabric with tiny, perfectly even stitches, binding it
together so that it is whole once again. When I am finished, I
move on to the next garment. And the next...
I am startled out of the comforting monotony by a soft knock
at the door.
I look up from my sewing. "Yes?"
The door slides open, to reveal a man...
*...tall, handsome, with the face of a god and the bearing
of an emperor...*
My eyes widen slightly. Okami-san was right...
"Kogoro-san, I presume," I say with a polite bow of my head,
which does much to conceal my surprise.
He smiles an acknowledgment. "Sorry for coming so late," he
says. "May I intrude for a moment?"
As if I could say otherwise. "If you are looking for
Himura-san," I say with a calm that belies my sudden inner fear,
"he is out tonight."
"I know," he says, kneeling across from me. "I am his boss.
I coordinate everything that he does."
His words bring my heart to a dead standstill.
Iidzuka-san might deliver Himura the message of death... but
this man before me is the one who composes it... who writes the
name of a man of a sheet of paper, and places it in a black
envelope, sentencing him to die at the hands of a fifteen year
old boy.
And he has come to talk to me. He must know how I have been
affecting his prize killer. Iidzuka-san must have told him...
I am barely able to keep my voice steady. "Why have you
come to see me?"
He looks at me in silence for a long moment. His
intelligent eyes seem to peer right through me, and it takes all
my self control not to fidget under his scrutiny. "Tell me," he
says, "have you ever heard of Yoshida Shoin?"
Surprised as I am at the direction he has chosen to take the
conversation... the name strikes a familiar chord in me. As I
think on it, I realize that it is a name that I heard my father
curse on more than one occasion. Yoshida Shoin, he raged, was a
radical-minded foreign-loving fool, and the leader of fools.
"I believe," I respond cautiously, "that I may have heard
his name in passing."
He nods and closes his eyes briefly. When he looks at me
again, his gaze is clear and intense. "He was a great teacher.
He believed in freedom and individuality -- not just for the
ruling class... but for everyone. Man, woman and child, whether
they be samurai, merchant, or peasant." He speaks, his voice
low, but thick with passion. "I had the great honor of studying
at his feet for two years at the Shokason School... myself, and
eighty other students. After two years, he sent us out to try
and bring about this change... to try and create a new Japan. A
Japan that is kind to *all* her people, and not to just a select
few.
"But, we found that not everyone craves freedom for all, as
we do. Many of my comrades were killed for trying to bring about
such a radical change. Yoshida Shoin, our beloved teacher... was
killed in a mass execution that was kept quiet." He pauses a
moment, and I see a brief flicker of unspeakable grief in his
expression.
"One thing that Yoshida-sensei taught us, was that at the
end of the Tokugawa's 300 year reign, this era of the Shogunate
rule will be thrown into chaos, and be no more. To accomplish
the job of constructing a new era, we, also, must be thrown into
disorder. The Choshu way is to embrace the chaos, to use it to
destroy the old order, that a new one might be built in its
place. The chaos that exists now is the strength that moves the
Choshu Group.
"Sometimes..." he says quietly, looking down at his hands,
"it seems hopeless. We Choshu Ishin Shishi are outnumbered by
the Bakufu forces, so, at the moment, a direct conflict to settle
our disputes is out of the question. On top of that, we are at
odds with the Satsuma clan, when they should be our staunchest
allies." He sighs wearily. "But... Yoshida Shoin taught that
'Sincerity and perseverance always win.' And I believe that. We
must persevere, no matter what. And our hearts must always
remain pure and sincere in our goal."
He lifts his head once again to look me in the eye. "Himura
has the purest heart I've ever known," he says. "And yet, he has
been given the cruelest job of all. He must act the guardian of
Chaos."
He falls silent. But I can see the question in his eyes as
he looks at me. *Do you understand? Can you see why this has to
be?*
I... I don't know.
His goals... I never really understood, before, what the
Ishin Shishi were after; why these men chose to fight against the
established order.
But... freedom... for all...
It is a strange new concept to me.
And... it feels...
I... must think on this.
"So," I say after a long moment. "Having said all this...
what is it that you want me to do?"
He sighs heavily, and shakes his head slightly. "I won't
tell you what to do. I... just thought I'd let you know what
we're doing. You deserved to hear it from me, since I am the one
responsible." And with that, he stands and bows. "Thank you for
listening. Please excuse me."
I sit in unmoving silence for a long time after he leaves me
alone with my thoughts.
Then... I put away my sewing, and pull out my diary, my ink
stone, and brushes.
I have something to write about after all. And I believe I
am thinking more clearly than I was before...
~*~
Himura came back this morning. When I walked by his room
after breakfast, he was there, sleeping against the window bench.
And I was almost not surprised at how relieved I was to see
him there again...
The rest of the day passed in a blur as I worked in silence,
pondering Kogoro-san's words of the night before...
"Thank you," says Okami-san, startling me out of my thoughts
as I put away the last of the dinner trays. "You don't have any
more chores for today."
I nod my thanks. I am glad to be able to return to Himura's
room. I have had a lot to think about, and I am anxious to
record my thoughts on paper. Writing, I have always found, helps
me to clarify what I am feeling, and put it into focus.
I slide open the door anxiously... and stop in my tracks.
Himura is still in the room.
I stare at him in surprise, and find myself suddenly unsure
what to do. This is the first time that I have returned to his
room at day's end, to find him still within. Usually by this
time, he has already fled for the evening, slipping out the
window, leaving me to occupy his room alone.
He is still sleeping...
He must be exhausted. I think this is the first chance he
has had to sleep since I saw him with that first black envelope
two days ago...
I... I believe I understand what Kogoro-san told me. That
Himura is the guardian of the Code of Chaos. That he is the one
who bears the blood of the slain Shogunate leaders, so that the
leaders of the Ishin Shishi can keep their hands clean as they
struggle to construct a new era from the ashes of the old.
Well. I must think more about that. But all of that aside,
I do know that Kogoro-san was right about one thing.
Himura has been given the cruelest job of all.
Looking at his sleeping face now, the setting sun casting
fiery light and shadow on his young, scarred face... I still see
a boy that has yet to become a man.
And he looks... so tired...
Without thinking, I slip my shawl from around my shoulders,
and walk up to him silently.
Gently, I lean over to wrap my shawl around his shoulders.
His eyes snap open. Wild, and full of fury --
-- and I don't even have time to blink as he snarls, his
teeth bared, his eyes blazing with the most terrifying madness as
he grabs me by the front of my kimono, and his sword is already
at my neck and--
*I am dead. I am dead. I am--*
A tremendous blow to my chest knocks me to the floor... and
as I instinctively struggle to sit up, to back away, to flee from
my death... I see him standing, his blade buried in the hard,
thick leather of the back of his left hand guard, his palm still
outstretched from where he blocked his own strike even as he
pushed me away...
And then... he keels over, almost sinking to his knees,
wide-eyed and shaking, clutching his sword hand as if fearful
that it might attack again with a will of its own...
I am paralyzed with terror, even as my mind struggles to
comprehend what I am seeing... that I am still alive... that his
blade never even touched my throat...
...though it came... so... close...
Himura is standing over me... and as I look up into his
face, I am surprised to see a stark fear in his wide, horrified
eyes that matches my own.
"I'm sorry," he gasps hoarsely. "I'm sorry..."
He is trembling, sweating, as he shakes his head with a
fierce, sharp movement, as if to shed some last trace of
lingering bloodlust. He staggers back with a groan, to sink
heavily onto the window bench.
The desperate anguish of his apology stuns me to the point
where I almost forget my fright.
"I... I say that I don't kill civilians, but... I almost
just did. I almost..." His breathing is ragged and heavy. "You
need to leave this place," he whispers. "If you don't, then
someday, I might really..."
He trails off with a choking sound that is almost a sob.
The sound pierces through my fading terror, right to my
heart. And, as I look into his shadowed face, I can see all too
clearly that the killing demon within him has fled for the
moment, leaving him hollow, shaken... and alone...
Suddenly, I understand exactly what Okami-san was feeling
when, on that first day, she wept for this boy...
You didn't know, did you, Himura? You were just a child who
saw suffering all around you. You wanted to help, and you
thought you knew what you were getting in to when you agreed to
become the Ishin Shishi assassin; what price you would have to
pay...
...but you didn't, did you?
And now I can see you drowning in a morass of death and
blood and madness before my eyes.
The murderous rage that flashed across his face in that
brief instant brings up the memory of my original purpose in
being here, from where I buried it in the depths of my confusion.
Ah... Akira-san, my beloved... What should I do? Upon your
grave, I promised you vengeance. I swore to you that I would
destroy the Hitokiri who had cut your life so short--
I freeze as, with that single thought... another path opens
up before me. A path so simple and clear that I almost gasp
aloud with realization.
Himura sits, his shoulders tense, his head bowed in guilt
and remorse, even as he holds on to his sword with a white-
knuckled grip, as if it were his only comfort...
...and suddenly, I know what I must do.
Picking my shawl up from off the floor, I stand on unsteady
feet. The all-too-fresh memory of his burning eyes and the
whispering brush his blade's razor edge against my throat almost
makes me falter in my resolve.
Almost.
I approach him carefully... and place my shawl on his lap.
He glances up at me, startled.
"You need a sheath... to suppress the madness," I whisper
gently. "So... let me stay with you for the time being."
He looks down and stares uncertainly at the shawl in his lap
for a long moment.
Then... slowly... he releases the hilt of his sword... and
grasps the silken cloth tightly in his fingers. He pulls it to
him hesitantly, yet clutching it like a life line, as if both
afraid and hopeful of what it might mean...
"Tomoe-san," he whispers at last. "You... asked me
before... if you had a sword in your hand, if I would kill you or
not..."
His head is lowered, and his scarlet hair hangs about his
face, so that I can no longer see his expression.
"The answer... is... No. I won't kill you. No matter what
the circumstances, I won't kill you, ever." His voice is low and
hoarse with emotion. And as he speaks, I can't help but
wonder... or hope... if perhaps a hint of warm violet might be
softening the cold amber of his hidden eyes...
"Not you," he vows quietly. "Ever."
With the utterance of his solemn promise, a deep, aching
warmth fills my heart, joining with my new resolve.
You see, Beloved... now it truly begins. You shall be
avenged.
Such an unusual kind of vengeance... trying to restore the
conscience to the tattered, wounded soul of this young man...
It is, perhaps, more difficult and less sure than my
original long-abandoned desire; my plan to discover his weakness,
that I might betray him to his enemies...
But... if I can help him... if I can soothe the madness that
is devouring him... perhaps even ease it from him entirely...
would not the Hitokiri be destroyed just as surely?
Destroy the killer, while saving the man. And, looking at
him now as he sits silently with his head bowed, holding my shawl
in his hands as if it were the most precious thing on earth... I
think I finally catch a glimpse of the gentle spirit that lies
beneath all the shrouding layers of blood and death.
And I believe it is possible.
You were always so gentle and compassionate, Akira-san.
I think you would approve of this strange vengeance of
mine...
~*~
To be continued...
Author's notes:
1) Yes, I elaborated a bit on Kogoro Katsura's canon conversation
with Tomoe. But, to be honest, when I first read it in the
manga, it confused the heck out of me. "Guardian of Chaos?"
What the heck is that supposed to mean??? I mean, it sounds cool
and all, but...
Then I realized that Watsuki-sensei has a limited amount of space
to tell his visual story, and probably couldn't elaborate for
those of us who are mostly ignorant of the Bakumatsu. So I've
been doing some heavy-duty research on Kogoro, the Shokason
School, his teacher, Yoshida Shoin, and their beliefs, as well as
the nature of the activities of the Chosu Ishin Shishi during
this particular time period. Interesting stuff. ^_^ It
clarified a lot of things for me, and so I tried to put that to
good use in the Kogoro-Tomoe conversation.
2) I've gotten a few comments from people who think that, because
I'm writing the story of Tomoe, I'm against the Kenshin & Kaoru
match-up. I'm not. Believe me. I am a firm believer that
Kenshin & Kaoru are the Eternal Couple. ^_^ I just also happen to
believe that, without Kenshin's experience with Tomoe, he would
never have become the Rurouni that Kaoru came to know and love.
When I first thought about writing RK fanfiction, I, of course,
wanted to write about my favorite couple. But then, I found so
many great K&K stories by other authors, that my need to write a
new K&K story just wasn't there. When I discovered the Revenge
Arc, however, and the mysterious, often baffling Tomoe... well,
that was a story just screaming at me to be written.
I've spent a lot of time staring at Tomoe's seemingly-
expressionless face in the manga, trying to get inside her head,
trying to figure out what her motivations were, and... well, this
is the result. ^_^ I hope it's enjoyable... even to K&K fans.
Ja ne,
Krista
(who is now off to work on a little Ranma 1/2 fic she's also been
working on...)