people are going to either hate me or love me for this one.  I personally
don't care.  I want to see the flames brought on by my severe lack of good
taste.  And if anyone decided that this would actually make a good fic
subject, Be sure to put it on the mailing list, cause I would like to read
it.

I apologize for my spelling mistakes, but I'm guessing.  Please try to read
this for content.  Thanks

Send any flames or comments privately please.

*********************************************************

Sometime in the past (not to spoil the plot)

... He could feel his life force fading away.  He could now attone for his
crimes.  All the battles, all the men who's lives ended by the swiftness of
his blade.  the debt of spirit could now be paid.

The blood coming from his chest wound had nearly slowed to a trickle.  His
eyes were fixated on the man, the only man, who actually beat him.  He, the
feared Battosai, finally beaten in honorable combat.

Now he could rest in peace, knowing there was truely justice in the world.

As his vision faded out, Kenshin Himura slumped to the ground, his body now
lifeless.

******************************

He sat bolt upright, gasping for air, his lungs feeling like they were on
fire.

Something was wrong, very wrong.

On the ground and on his kimono, the stain and the cut across the fabric
where he had been mortally wounded, the blood still wet, but the wound was
gone.

He was alive, but that was impossible.

He looked around for some kind of sign, some mark telling him he was in
hell, and was rewarded to find another body.

The swordsman who had beaten him, lay on the ground under a cherry tree.  In
his hand, the sacrifical tanto, the blade buried deep in the lower chest.

Kenshin realized that the man had taken his own life to regain honor for
killing another.  To attone in a way Kenshin realized was no longer open to
him.  Something in his mind told him that he was alive to live and fight and
continue to kill, something with he truely detested.

As he buried the man's body, he vowed to himself that no more innocents
needed to die because of him.  That he would never kill again.

That night, under the stars, holding his sword high above him, he screamed
animalistically upward, looking for a sign, when the light of the moon
caught on the side of his blade and he was mezmerized by it for a moment.
It looked as though the blade's edge had reversed, and his sudden musing
became much more serious.

He had his sign.

*************************

(Present day)

His name is Kenshin Himura.  Born over two hundred years ago in fuedal
Japan, at the end of the Tokogawa Dynasty.  A legend in his time, he was
known as Hitokuri Battosai, The Manslayer.  He is an immortal.  There are
others like him, who cannot die except by the swish of a sword and the fall
of a head.  In the end, there can be only one........

May it be Kenshin Himura.

****************************************************************************
********






Tripolar Disorder

"TTFN, Ta Ta for Now!!"
Tigger, Chat guru long before the computer age.  A visionary ahead of his
time.....

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