Master Of Mosquiton Fan Fiction / Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Master Battousai ❯ Chapter 1

[ P - Pre-Teen ]

The blue sky seemed to stretch out forever. In a land where
the sun is considered divine, a brilliant azure hue was seen as a
triumph, dotted by tufts of fluffy white expanse. Yet something
was wrong in this picture.
"Nah, Inaho-dono, something looks wrong, de gozaru,"
a cracking, child-like voice said.
Indeed, something would look wrong if a large red object,
larger than a bird, hurtled across the great blue, punching through
the fluffy white clouds, streaming black smoke.
"Did you say something, Mo-chan?!" she shouted over the
roar of the engine, her hair blowing against her face. She was glad
that she had cut her hair; had it been any longer, it would have
gotten in her eyes. At the speed they were travelling, in an open-air
cockpit with the wind whipping past their faces, it was hard
enough to hear someone talk.
"Is it normal for the wings to be on fire?"
"I can't hear you, Mo-chan!"
Kenshin was beginning to feel apprehensive. While he new
little of this modern technology, he was almost certain that a fire
could not be a good thing. Crinkling his nose, he could smell the
acrid scent of wood and paper burning...
"WAAAA!" Inaho cried, "the wings are burning! The
engine must've malfunctioned again! Mo-chan, do something!"
Kenshin looked over the side. They had passed into Nippon
a few hours back. They had already been afforded a majestic view
of the lush, green mountains and plains of the homeland. From this
height, he didn't think even he could survive a fall. But there were
other means.
"Inaho-dono, where are we exactly?"
"What kind of a question is that to ask?!!? DO
SOMETHING!!!!"
"It's just that it looks like we're flying over Sendai, de
gozaru..."
"MO-CHAN!" Inaho screamed, grabbing Kenshin's yukata
and knocking him back and forth.
"Oro..."
"I don't want to die! I'm too young to die!" she shrieked.
The biplane had begun to descend now, particularly
because Inaho's panic had left the controls hanging. In seconds, the
biplane would enter into a dizzying spiral from which there was no
return.
"Calm down, Inaho-dono..."
"Calm down?!? Are you NUTS?!?" Inaho screamed into
his ear. "Don't you get it, Mo-Chan?" She said, whacking a punch
into his chest. (oro!)
"We..." she landed another punch, "are about..." yet
another (double oro!) "to DIE!"
Then she stopped and blinked. *Oh yeah, Mo-chan can't
die, so what would he be worried about?*

//Before her lay a thick, leather bound book, musty with
age. Opening it released a slight cloud of dust, and a pungent
aroma reminiscent of withered leaves. She began to read.
"Greetings to thee, would be sorceress. Contained within
these pages are the secrets of the Hitomebore clan. For ages, our
clan has sought out the Kenjya stone. It is a magical artifact that
can grant eternal youth.
In order to help achieve this goal, I have enlisted the aid of
M. M is immortal. M cannot die. He is an oni of a past age, who
lives on in this time of humans. Although his veins run with the
blood of the Reikai, he has chosen to seal his power away, to resist
temptation.
Using the power of earth, I have placed a geas on him. His
power is sealed away, as per the contract, and until he is called
again, he shall lie as a pile of ashes. When the Pact of Blood is
called, he will come forth to serve his new master."//

Inaho looked at her servant. He was knocked and dazed
from her punches, his eyes twirling listlessly. Some immortal he
was.
Then the plane dipped into its spiral.
"MO-CHAN!!!!!!" she screamed.
Suddenly, Kenshin's eyes focused. The plane continued its
descent, plummeting down faster and faster in a dizzying whirl.
His eyes narrowed, looking down at the ground below.
"Inaho-dono," he said to her, "hold on."
She looked up at him, at his serious eyes. Then she
remembered.

//M is the last of a line of Reikai from the Tokugawa. As all
Reikai, it was he who taught the mastery of the elements to the
Tokugawa samurai. M's element is Air.//

*Could he...* she wondered, the thought bewildering her.
*Could he really... fly?*
Kenshin took her in his arms, and she clung to his neck.
Suddenly, without hesitation, he leapt off the plunging aircraft.
And dropped like a rock.
"MO-CHAN NO BAKAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!"



Boyu Productions
Presents
========================
MASTER BATTOUSAI
========================
The Romance of a Meiji Mosquiton

ii. Three Words -- Flame is Bad (v1.1)


A blue sky. On the ground, it meant only one thing.
Merciless heat. With few clouds to stop the blazing rays of the sun,
it became a vengeful goddess, intent on punishing her people. The
people went about their daily lives, as the sun of the new Meiji
shone upon this small village in Sendai.
The peasants toiled their fields, bringing the golden crop to
bear. It would be needed for the winter. Carts tumbled across the
dirt road, bringing produce and people to the market. Children
played naked or half naked across the fields, in front of wood-
panelled houses, as their elders went about their business. In this
heat, even the farmers were dressing sparsely, keeping only a few
hoods to cover their exposed skin, trying to retain as little heat as
possible. It was a bustle of activity, as if the people were for once
actually working with fervor, a sight not uncommon in this new
era, this Meiji era.
A young boy lay back on a pile of hay, directly under the
blazing sun. Despite the heat, he was fully dressed, his white
peasant's shirt tucked neatly into his similarly white leggings. He
had a stalk of grass in his mouth, and his eyes were closed, basking
as he was under the sun.
A child ran over to his stack.
"Ne, Niisan! Do you want to play?"
"Eh?" the boy started, opening one eye. He regarded the
child who had addressed him. Cute little bugger. "What's that you
said?"
"Please come play with us!" the child reiterated.
"Hah, you don't want to play with this boy," the boy
replied. "Kono shounen ga dame yo."
"Na, Niisan, why'd you speak funny? You must be what
mom calls a samurai!"
The boy sat up. "What did you say?" he asked the child.
"Samurai! You're a samurai, ne?!"
The young boy just smirked, a small chuckle escaping from
his throat. "Do I look like a samurai?" he laughed. "A little boy
like me?"
"Umm!" the child nodded.
"You shouldn't be talking about samurai, you know," he
continued, gravely. "Samurai are looked down on in this day and
age."
"But samurai are kakkoui!" the child replied. "And so are
you! Ne, Niisan, come play with us!" the child said, tugging at his
shirt. "Look! The others want to play too!"
The boy looked over to where the other children were
playing. Some had stopped to look over at him, waving timidly as
little children do. He smiled to himself, closing his eyes, but
suddenly his eyes shot wide open.

//The children were playing, laughing gaily as they ran
around the field. The fields were brownish, muddied from last
night's rain, but children never minded getting their feet dirty.
In the distance, on a hilltop, a man watched the children
play. He was dressed in red and black leathers, in a style worn
only by the Reikai. A red sash was tied over his forehead, keeping
his fine, silken hair out of his eyes. Watching the children, his eyes
glimmered with the unmistakable sheen of happiness.
One of the children went up to him. This child was dressed
in simple peasant clothes, like the rest of the children. Like the
man, however, this child had a red sash tied across his forehead.
The child looked up to him and smiled.
He smiled back, patting the child's head. Although his eyes
were happy, and a smile was on his face, there was a dark pall
over him. Especially as he looked at this child. Perhaps it was the
pale, drawn look that was on his face. Perhaps it was the sword, in
its saya, clasped to his belt. Perhaps...//

"Ne, Nisan, what's wrong?" the child asked, in a small,
innocent voice.
"Wha-? Oh, nothing. Nothing at all," He smirked to
himself. Why was he remembering that now? "Hey, what's your
name?"
The child beamed at finally getting some interest from this
cool big brother. "I'm Mahou!"
The boy smiled, ruffling her hair. "That's a cute name.
Now, go on and play."
"Well, okay," the child said, a little abashed, "Won't you
come? You'll be sorry!"
"Yeah, yeah," he replied, easing back into his comfortable
niche in the stack. *Sometimes, I wish I were as young as these
kids,* he thought. *Then I could play around all day with them
without a care in the world. But I'm too old to play with them.*
He was about to doze off again when a cry broke his
tranquility.
"TASUKETE! TASUKETE KURE!"

***

The heat of the sun was pouring down on the backs of the
villagers. A worker stopped to wipe the sweat from his brow as he
stacked a pile of dried hay by the side of a house. Under normal
circumstances, this would be just any other day in the
neighborhood. But today was a little extra hot. In the heat, tinder,
like a stack of really dry hay, had the tendency to catch on...
"Fire! Fire!" a villager screamed.
"There's a fire at Hasekawa's place!
"A fire?! May the kami help us!"
"Tasukete! Help! Help! My baby is still in there!"
Sure enough, cries could be heard from within the burning
dwelling. Probably because of the heat and the smoke, the child
must have woken up and felt the discomfort from the flames.
Several men rushed to the burning house, but the fire was
getting too strong. The doorway was already blocked by falling
beams and debris from the roof. The windows were billowing with
smoke, tips of flame licking at the windowsill. There was no way
in.
"My baby! MY BABY!" Hasekawa's wife wailed.
From across the field, a figure approached. In the glaring
heat of the sun, he was an imposing figure, the waves of heat
distorting what the men saw of his body. At first they thought it
might be a trick of the heat, for this was no one they knew in this
village. But as he came closer it was apparent this was no mirage.
A man ran in, the bright white of his peasant garb reflecting
light painfully across the eyes of onlookers. His shirt was open and
untucked, revealing a strong muscular body and a well-developed
chest. The wraps of his loincloth were boorishly visible from
above the tuck of his white leggings. As he ran past, his spiky
brown hair swished as if hit by a breeze, held back only by a red
sash.
"Out of the way!" he shouted, rushing towards the
conflagration.
Quickly seeing there was no available entrance, he looked
to the rear wall, wide and expansive. The cries of the child within
were getting more frantic. There was no time to hesitate.
With a great kiai, he seemingly began to glow. The
spectators could not be sure if it was a trick of the heat or not, but
then something which could be no illusion suddenly appeared.
As his clothes ruffled from his aura, one character suddenly
materialized, etching itself on the plain white space on the back of
his shirt. One character, one word.
Aku.
Bad.
As it appeared, the man raised his fist. With another shout,
he slammed his fist against the rear wall. As it hit the wall,
something happened. The onlookers weren't quite sure what, but
some say a bright flash covered the details. Some claim to have
seen his fist ignite in flames as it hit the wall. But one thing was for
certain... the wall was obliterated with a loud, bursting noise, as if
a rock had just been reduced to a pile of powder.
In a flash, the man dashed inside, and several long, terse
moments later, he dashed out, carrying in his arms a small toddler,
wrapped in a blanket. He was none the worse for it., but the child
in his arms...
The baby's face was ashen, and the blanket was sooty,
caked in ash and dirt. In abject horror, Hasekawa and his wife
rushed him, taking the baby from his arms, a little too harshly.
Hasekawa, his wife crying by his side, handled his child
carefully, noticing that she was still breathing, at least. His
daughter seemed to be alive. It was then that the gravity of the
situation suddenly came to light.
The man stood in the center of the crowd, the rest of the
villagers slowly shying away from him. The children who had
been playing just moments before were huddled with their parents,
looking on as the strange drama unfolded.
The tension in the air was palpable, as evident as the heat
felt from the burning house. Everyone was covered in ash and soot,
sweating from the waves of heat emanating from the inferno.
Everyone except the man, who stood in the middle of the crowd. A
man who looked strangely fresh, strangely alive, basking in the
heat of the flame and the sun.
A man whose peasant shirt now bore one word -- Bad.
And less noticed in the heat of the moment, but now
painfully obvious, was another character, shining brightly, as if on
fire. It was on the sash on his forehead. Honou. Flame.
The house, burning progressively now, collapsed into an
ashen pyre.
The man turned away from the house and the Hasekawas,
heading for the field. The crowd parted for him, not saying
anything, not a word of thanks. Even the Hasekawas just stared at
him, at the word that had appeared on his back. Bad.
"Mama," a child from the crowd asked, "what's wrong?
Why is the cool man leaving?"
"He's not a good man, dear," the mother replied. "He's a
bad man."
As the man left, the tension lifted, and the crowd began to
relax and talk to themselves.
"He's a samurai, that one," someone remarked. "As sure as
the sun in the sky."
"I can't believe there's been one around our village all this
time," another said. "It's no wonder why this bad luck happened to
us."
"Neh, mama, what's a samurai?" the child continued to ask.
"A samurai is a bad man, dear. It's someone who fought
back in the old days."
"He's bad because fighting is bad, right?"
"That's right, dear."
"But I thought samurai were kakkoui!" Mahou blurted out.
"Hush!" his mother said, hugging him close. "Samurai are
bad men, who know nothing but violence and evil."
Another child, this one older, more curious, asked his
grandfather, "What was that thing written on his forehead,
ojiisan?"
"It's the sign of his being a samurai, son," the grandfather
answered. "It's the mark of the Reikai, and the accursed skills they
taught us humans."
"The Reikai?" the son echoed.
"Long ago, before we humans walked ruled land, there
were the oni. They were beings of incredible power. We were
slaves to them, these powerful oni. But some of the oni began to
see the error of their ways, so they decided to fight against the
other oni who were keeping us prisoner.
"These oni were known as the Reikai, and they fought
against their enslaving brothers, the Makai. The humans, realizing
that their only hope was to fight as well, joined the Reikai. But
humans are weak, you see, so they were practically useless against
the Makai. So the Reikai taught them how to fight."
By this time, Mahou, although being quieted by her mother,
was listening intently to the old man's story.
"These warriors of the humans, who the Reikai taught, they
were known as samurai. Together with the Reikai, the samurai
were able to defeat the Makai and banish them into the Void."
"So what's so bad about the Reikai and their teachings, if it
helped us win our freedom?" the boy questioned.
"That's only the first half of the story, son," the old man
continued. "When the Makai were defeated, most of the Reikai
also disappeared. Many had been killed in the war, many more
were injured, but most of them apparently left the humans on their
own, to live their own lives."
"With the oni -- that is, the Reikai and the Makai -- gone,
the rise of the samurai began. They were the strongest, having kept
the secrets of the Reikai long in their traditions. They began to rule
over the other humans, who were weak and knew nothing but
farming and fishing. Thus began the Tokugawa shogunate."
"The Tokugawa?" the boy prodded.
"Yes," the old man nodded. "The Tokugawa were a
powerful clan who had the strongest samurai. With their might,
they managed to unite Nippon under one rule."
"Suge..." the boy breathed, "It must have been an
impressive shogunate."
"Perhaps it was, if you looked at it from the outside," the
old man retorted. "But on the inside, it was quite the contrary. The
samurai were a ruling class, whose superior strength and might
allowed them to take advantage of the peasantry. At first glance,
the shogunate looked like a bustling, flourishing age for the
humans. But that was only for the samurai. If you were a peasant,
like we are now, then you'd be facing something like what
happened under the Makai, only this time under humans. Under
samurai."
"So the Tokugawa and the samurai made slaves of us
peasants?"
"That's right, son. You're a smart kid, you know."
The boy beamed. "But then what happened? The
Tokugawa aren't around anymore, right?"
"Yep, and they haven't been for around 300 years," the old
man continued. "It's all because of the Ishin shishi."
"Shishi?"
"Yes, the shishi. The warriors of a new age. The Ishin were
a group of kenkaku who realized that it wasn't right for the
samurai to be oppressing the peasantry. At first there weren't many
of them, but with the support of the people and careful planning,
they were able to grow to a force strong enough to overthrow the
samurai. Many of them even had the same Reikai-taught skills
which the samurai had. This was only proper, so that they could
put up a fight. The samurai were thus defeated, in the battle of
Bakumatsu at Kyoutou, and the new age, our Meiji age, had finally
begun."
"But you must realize, son, that the Reikai skills are not a
good thing."
"Why is that?"
"Think about it. What was the reason why the samurai were
able to oppress our ancestors? It was because of the Reikai skills
which they possessed. Because of that extra power, they were able
to oppress those weaker than themselves."
"So that man we just saw..."
The old man nodded. "He has the power of Reikai. If he
wanted to, he could enslave all of us and make our lives a
miserable hell."
"But he didn't," the boy reasoned, "isn't it what you do
with your power that counts? I mean, he did save the Hasekawa's
daughter, right?"
"Son, I told you that story so that you would learn from it.
You must shun the samurai and the Reikai; their skills are not for
this world. Because of their power, they might take advantage of
us. If we avoid contact with them, then this will not be the case.
"Now as for why he did not take advantage of us now,
there is a good reason why. In this Meiji era, new technology has
come to us, especially after we opened our gates to the gaijin. The
Meiji Ishin government did not simply liberate us from the samurai
and their oppression; they ensured that we would be able to live
peaceful, prosperous lives. One of the ways they safeguard this is
through their federal police."
"Police?" the boy cocked an eyebrow at the concept.
"Back in the Tokugawa, different groups of samurai were
given the role of the police, guarding the shogunate from dissidents
like the shishi. Among these were powerful samurai troops like the
Shinsengumi and the Oniwa Banshuu. However, today, the police
are not samurai, but people like you or me, sometimes with the
descendants of the shishi who fought for us back in the war of
Bakumatsu, but they have one thing now which the samurai fear.
"What?"
"They have guns. From the advanced technology we have
learned since the Meiji began, our police now have guns which can
defeat a samurai. Not only guns, but the Meiji government has
helped us all in many ways. Better technology for medicine, for
agriculture, for building homes, in everyway, the quality of life of
our people has improved. The only evidence you need for this is to
look at our population. Humans now are the supreme masters of
Nippon, and our numbers are ever growing. Gone are the days of
the oni."
"So this is a great time for us to live?" the boy asked.
"That's right, son," the old man replied. "The oni and their
fearsome powers are gone for good. It is now the Meiji era, the age
of humans."

***

His disgust welled up inside of him, disgust not only at the
villagers, but at himself. He didn't know why he had even bothered
to help. He should have known that they would look at him like
that. Like he was some freaking monster. They always did that.
Once again, he would have to wander across the
countryside, looking for a place to rest, to temporarily call home.
He was getting weary of this. Although he had already gone far
across the field, his ears, extra sharp and sensitive because he had
called on the Reikai power, had heard what they were talking
about.
Of course, there was only one thing they would be talking
about. The samurai. Their power. The power that came from the
Reikai. When he thought of them, of the Reikai, his
thoughts always began to wander, and he knew inevitably where
they would lead him...

//A youth, dressed in white peasant clothes, trod across the
dirt path, painstakingly putting one foot in front of the other. He
was pushing along a beaten down cart, its wooden wheels stubbed
and cracked from the ardours of the road.
Lying in the wagon was a man, dressed in red and black
leather, the distinctive cut of which would ever mark him an
outcast. He seemed barely conscious, the handsome features of his
pale face twitching only ever so slightly from the stimulus of the
unpaved road.
The youth continued to push, the muscles of his body --
muscles finely developed for one his age -- straining against the
burden. Although he was strong, the hardship was taking its toll.
A wheel hit a large rock on the road, jolting the cart and
putting it to a halt.
The youth sighed, stopping, wiping the sweat from his
brow.
"Mo ii..." came a weak voice from the cart.
"What do you mean?" the youth demanded. "I won't let
you die here!"
"It's alright, Sano. My time has come. The illness and the
wounds have taken their toll. You don't need to worry anymore..."
"That's bullshit!" Sano shouted. "Weren't you the one who
always said we should live? To never give up? What's the point of
your fighting for this era, if you don't get to live to enjoy it?!!
Don't worry, once we get to the next village, I know we'll get help.
I'll ask for some medicine-"
"You know they won't help," he simply said.
Sano dropped to his knees behind the cart, his shoulders
heaving...//

*No! I won't think of that! Not now! If I do, I might go
back to that time-* His hand clenched into a fist. He stayed his
hand, looking over his shoulder back to the village. The smoke
from the fire was already subsiding.
"Hmph," he shrugged, feeling the anger leave him as he let
go of the power of Reikai.

***

Back in the field of the village, the children were once
again at play. But there was something strange, something missing.
One of the kids looked towards the haystack.
"Ne, where'd Niisan go?" Mahou wondered.
"I dunno! He was here a moment ago..." one of the other
kids replied.
"Heeeeh?" Mahou cried, looking around. The haystack was
empty, although the telltale depression left by his sleeping there
was still evident.
Mahou cocked her head, wondering at the mystery, and
looked back to her other friends.

***

The young boy trodded the dirt path, his hands tucked into
the pockets of his white peasant clothes. Thoughts of the children,
playing in the field, free of the burdens of life, came unbidden into
his thoughts. He quickly quashed them, knowing that such
thoughts would only bring him more pain.
It was always painful, thinking of childhood, thinking of
children. It always reminded him of what he had missed, what he
had been deprived off. Deprived because of an unwanted legacy
and a prejudiced society.
Deprivation always caused him to think of desire. All he
had ever wanted was a home and a family and friends. But this era
would not give him that. This new era, this Meiji era, this era of
peace, protection, benefice and goodwill.
This era of humans.
*No!* the boy thought. *I mustn't think of that. I
mustn't...*
But he did, anyway.

//He smiled back, patting the child's head. Although his
eyes were happy, and a smile was on his face, there was a dark
pall over him. Especially as he looked at this child. Perhaps it was
the pale, drawn look that was on his face. Perhaps it was the
sword, in its saya, clasped to his belt. Perhaps it was the way he
coughed incessantly, the sign of a disease which had overtaken his
health.
More likely though, it was the look in his eyes. It was a look
that bordered on hopelessness, a look that was born of
disappointment. That look only worsened, as he saw what was
coming from the town.
The other children still played on in, although their elders
just passed them, a concerned look on their faces, heading for the
man in the red and black leathers.
"Myoujin Sagara, of the Sekihoutai," one of the villagers
said, speaking for the rest of them. "You know you are not
welcome here. There is no place for your kind here. Please leave,
before the government arrive."
Without a word, Sagara turned his back, walking away, his
hand around the shoulder of the child with the red sash. In the
field, the children stopped their play for a bit, wondering for a
moment where there playmate was going. When it was evident that
he was leaving, they continued on with their merriment, as
children do, believing that he would be back tomorrow.
"Why are we leaving, father?" the child asked, his eyes
wandering to the field where the other children were.
"I'm sorry, son," he Sagara replied, kneeling down to face
his child eye to eye. "There are somethings that you must
understand, about this new era."
"This new era you helped build? What, father?"
"You and I are different from everyone else. We carry a
special power within us, a power that was necessary to shape this
era. But that same power is no longer needed in this day and age.
People know that, so they want to have nothing to do with us."
"But why?" the child asked, obviously hurt. "Why can't we
live like everyone else? Didn't you use your power to help them?
Why can't we be part of their world?"
"I know it seems unfair, but that's how this world works,"
Sagara explained. "But you must always remember one thing, and
this is the most important thing, no matter what happens. Are you
listening?"
The child nodded. "Yes, father."
"We have a power which only we possess. It makes us
different from everyone else. But even if everyone else should shun
you, you must never use your power to get back at them."
An almost glazed look came over his eyes for a moment, but
it quickly passed.
"Even though I used the power to fight and kill people in
the past age, I only did that because it was necessary to bring
about this one. But now that this age is here, you must always
remember that our power should not be abused. We should use it
only to protect. Never to kill in cold-blood. Do you understand?"
"Yes, father. I understand."//

The boy stopped himself, realizing where such thoughts
would take him. He didn't want to remember. Such memories only
brought him pain. Taking a moment to settle himself, he didn't
realize there were others who shared the road with him. But the
telltale presence of their ki tipped him off, just as they appeared.
Four men emerged from the sides of the road. They wore
the tight Chinese-cut uniforms which marked them as police. The
color of their uniform, green, told him that they were the special
forces sent out to chase dissidents of the new era. They were
obviously stalking someone.
*No! Not again!* the boy thought.

***

He felt the power rage once again inside him. These
government stooges just didn't know when to quit. When these
four appeared, whatever measure of control he had managed to
attain simply disappeared. The power of Reikai surfaced once
again, painting one word on the sash that was now around his
forehead.
"As we suspected," one of the officers said. "We had heard
that there was a fugitive hiding around here. But we were about to
leave, because the trail had apparently gone cold. If it weren't for
that outburst at the village, we might have given up."
"What do you assholes want?" Sano demanded, the rage
emanating from him like a thin veneer off the surface of his skin,
ready to burst out at the slightest provocation.
"Zanza no Honou. You are wanted for many crimes as a
gangster in Sendai. If you will not turn yourself in peacefully, we
will have to use force." As if to emphasize that statement, the four
brought out their breach-loader rifles, and began to level them at
him. "Will you come peacefully, or no?"
Zanza no Honou? Sano hadn't been called that name in a
long time. It really ticked him off to hear it.
"URUSEE, you tight-assed maggot-heels!" Sano exploded,
his hand smashing against a nearby tree trunk. In a shower of
cinders and kindling, the trunk exploded, leaving a smoking stump
in its wake. The character on his forehead was burning brightly, a
testament to the flame that was his birthright.
"If it weren't for you and your cow-ass government, I
would be living my life in peace! But your stripjoint morals and
your bitchin prejudices fucked it all up! For that... for THAT...!!"
"We'll take that as a no," the officer replied, cocking his
rifle.
"You're FREAKIN right it's a NO!" Sano shouted,
cracking his fists together.
This was bad, and Sano knew it. He wasn't so concerned
about these four, with rifles, who would be trying to kill him. He
knew that he might win, with his Reikai powers, but in most
probability he wouldn't. But that was not his concern. He had little
concern for his life nowadays, a meaningless life of roaving and
constant persecution.
What he was concerned for was his power. His father had
always cautioned him to keep the power in control, or else it would
become like that of their cousins. His power was once again raging
out of control, like it did back at that time. He didn't want to go
back to that time. But he had lost control, there was no stopping it
now.

//Sano dropped to his knees behind the cart, his shoulders
heaving.
"But father, you can't die! This new era is supposed to
protect its people, right? With the new medicines, I'm sure you'll
be alright..."
"Don't worry, Sano. My dying is inevitable, it has been
foretold by the great wave of fate. Sano, listen to me."
Sano got up, and went to the side of the cart to face his
father, eye to eye.
"Listen, I have to leave you now, but do not blame the
people of this era for that. It is the age of humans, the Reikai no
longer have a place in this world, just as the Makai who we sent
ahead of us.
"Do you remember what I told you that time when you
were a child, Sano?"
"Yes," Sano answered, tears streaming down his cheeks.
Although he said yes, in truth his mind was racing, he had no idea
what his father was talking about. All he knew was that his father,
the person he loved the most in his life, was dying before him.
"Remember what I told you, Sano. Remember that, and
you'll be fine..."
Sano locked his eyes with his father, eyes whose light
suddenly fled into the brightness of the sky. With a final breath, his
father was no more.
"NOOOOOO!!!!" Sano screamed, and in that instant, a
character sprouted in flames on his forehead, one word. Honou.
His body ignited, flame pouring from his body in waves, scorching
the ground beneath him and the wooden cart by his side.
"Why?!? Why won't anyone help us?!?!" he shouted into
the sky, tears of anger and sorrow streaming from his eyes. "Why
do we have to be different? Why is it so bad to be different?!?!
What is wrong with this era!?!?
"If this era of humans will not help us, then I will burn it
down!!!" His voice choked with sorrow, but the anger flowed
through, getting stronger.
"I WILL SHOW THEM THE POWER THAT THEY HAVE
SPURNED!!!" His voice was different now, lower, heavier,
darker. A mad gleam appeared in his eyes. One word, Bad,
appeared on his back. It burst into flames. Sano, the youth, was no
more. In its place was Zanza the Honou.//

*Yes, I became a gangster at that time,* Sano recalled
through the seething rage, eyeing the four officers who flanked
him, intent on subduing him, killing him. *But I've changed since
then! Thanks to the boss. But this rage, this anger... how dare
they.... NO!!!*
The rage he felt was matched only by the fire in his eyes,
the fire in his mind. The character on his back, Bad, burst into
flame. Zanza the Honou had returned.
"So," he said menacingly, a deadly fire burning in his eyes,
"which pussy-ass jagoff wants to die first?"
One of the four officers cringed involuntarily, only to be
warned with a staying hand from the officer in charge. "Hold your
ground! He may be a samurai, but there's only one of him and four
of us. Take him!"
"Come get some, retards!" he grinned maniacally.
As the first officer got his gun up and ready, Zanza quickly
sent a jet of flame streaming towards his gun, causing the
gunpowder inside to explode before a shot could be fired. The rifle
exploded in the officer's face, causing him to cry out in pain.
The second officer almost got a shot off, but Zanza had
been keeping his eye on him. He stepped to side with the speed of
a flame flickering in the wind, and in one motion closed the
distance between them. As the gun went off, Zanza shoved the
barrel upwards, and with his other arm smashed the gun into
pieces.
With a mighty cry of rage, Zanza smashed his fist into the
officer's gut. The man choked and doubled up, the force of the
punch knocking him a few feet into the air. At the apex of his rise,
he coughed blood.
A shot rang out. Zanza, preoccupied, was unable to evade.
It smashed into his torso, below the collarbone, with a rather
sickening squish. It passed right through the skin and exited behind
his shoulder. Blood sprayed to stain the white of his peasant garb.
The two remaining officers had their rifles aimed, one had
already fired. The second shot came, but Zanza had anticipated it,
and he turned, the shot only grazed his shoulder.
"Huh, what's the matter," the blood-speckled spectre
taunted. "Did your heart just skip a beat?
HAHAHAHAHAHAAA!!!!"
The laughter unnerved the officers, making them crank
their rifles desperately. But Zanza was already there. He swept the
third officer up, twisting one arm one way and the rest of his body
the other. The sickening crunch of bone breaking and muscle
tearing inspired a smile of pleasure from Zanza.
Zanza turned around to throw the broken officer away,
when a slicing pain ran through his back.
"You may be samurai, but you're no match for the Meiji
Police!" the last officer, the leader, hefted his bloodied katana,
ready to skewer the injured fighter. "DIE!!!"
"Who told you, bitch?" Zanza's eyes narrowed.
Before the officer could follow through his threat, Sano's
fist flared, and he smashed it into the upraised katana, smashing
the sword into a thousand tiny fragments. Without hesitation,
Zanza applied a quick volley of punches to the officer's chest, but
before he could fall over, Zanza grabbed the chest of his uniform.
"That hurt, you know," he said the officer's half-dazed
face.
He raised his other fist, flaring with the flame of his anger.
"Time to finish it..." a maniacal grin spread on Zanza's
face.
"SANO!!!"
Zanza hesitated, dropping the poor officer. That voice... so
familiar.
"Honou, put down your flame... de gozaru yo.
Zanza's fiery eyes looked to the side, seeing a purple robe,
red hair, and a cross scar. The fires in his eyes went out.
"Boss?" Sano, the bum, asked.
Kenshin walked over, a rather appalled Inaho trailing
closely behind.
"Hisashiburi, de gozaru yo," Kenshin smiled.

//A group of men were gathered at a nearby bar. Their
raccuous laughter filled the pub with lewd jokes and breath
reeking of stale spirits. The door suddenly slammed open.
Silhoutted against the street lights was a tall man. His hair was
spiked and tied back by a red sash, his peasant clothes a stark
white.
"Eh, who's there?" a drunk slurred.
"Red sash, chicken hair... it's got to be..."
"Chicken hair? Who has chicken hair, bitch?" the man
from the door retorted.
"My God, it's Zanza the Honou!"
"Hohoho," he menaced, "Look at all the talking corpses."
Honou's fist flashed, smashing the ribs of the nearest
patron. He died. A kick here, a punch there. One head split like a
watermelon. All the time, the maniacal laughter of Zanza as the
bar lit up in flames.
As Zanza turned to leave, a small figure barred the
doorway.
"Who are you, cunt?" Zanza demanded.
"This Meiji is a time of peace," came the soft, childish
voice. "People have their freedom and live their lives as best they
can. For what you have done, you deserve to be beaten!"
"Tough luck, dumbass. You can try." Zanza said with a
smirk.
Five seconds later.
"Tough... ugh..." Zanza groaned as he lay on the floor.
"The power of the Reikai was never meant to harm this
peaceful era. Although our time is past, we live on. It is our
obligation to use that power to protect, as the Reikai did, rather
than to oppress, as the Makai did. De gozaru."
Kenshin walked away.
*That man,* Sano thought, his eyes once again focusing.
*He thinks... just like my father...*
"Matte! Wait for me, boss!"
"Oro?"//

Sano stood up, wiping some blood from his hand on the
back of his shirt. He turned to the two newcomers.
"Boss! When'd you get back?" Sano inquired, a little
sheepish at the embarassing situation he was in.
"Just a few hours ago, actually." Kenshin replied. "So,
Honou, have you been improving your technique over the past 200
years?"
"Huh? Technique... uh..." SD-Sano the Bum shrugged with
a silly grin. ^_^
"So that's why you got beaten so badly..." Kenshin sighed.
"Hey, I wasn't doing so bad." Serious-Sano suddenly said,
putting his foot on SD-Kenshin's head. (oro) "You don't
have to rub it in, you know."
"Hey you, what are you doing to my Mo-chan?" Inaho
demanded, confronting the fearsome looking ex-gangster.
"Hey, boss, who's this perky little girl?"
"PERKY??!?! LITTLE?!??!?!?!" Inaho fumed. Inaho
slammed her fist into Sano's gut.
"Oww!! What was that for, Jo-chan?!?" Sano whined.
"Nah, nah, let's be friends..." Kenshin began.
"Stay out of this, Mo-chan." Inaho drew herself up, huffing
to `perk' her chest out (not that there was much to perk out ^_^). "I
am Kamiya Inaho of Kamiya Kasshin Ryuu," she grinned, pushing
her face up to Sano's. "Master of Battousai!"
Sano's jaw dropped to the floor.
"Boss, is that, is that... honto ni...?!?" Sano said, obviously
in a panic.
Kenshin nodded with a sigh.
Sano's face suddenly turned into a zombie.
"Well now, what was that about... PERKY?" Inaho said, a
smug grin on her face as she stalked around the bewildered Sano.
"Hmmm??"
"Who is this punk anyway, Mo-chan?" Inaho turned to
Kenshin.
"Ano... This is my sidekick, Myoujin Sanosuke, formerly
of Sekihotai..."
"Who are you calling sidekick, boss?!?" Sano stepped on
Kenshin's head again. (Oro)
Inaho did a face-fault.
"Some boss you are..." Inaho grumbled.
"Anyway, Sano, are you alright?" Kenshin asked, getting
up.
"Oh, you mean these flesh wounds? They're nothing," Sano
replied. "Once I shift back, I should be fine."
Sano's rage was next to gone now, and suddenly something
strange occurred. As he relaxed, his body suddenly began to
shrink. His blood-stained clothes shrunk, the blood stains still there
and a rip in the back was evident, but the word "bad" was gone.
The red sash fell off from his head, to fall into the folds of his shirt,
which he promptly tucked in.
Within seconds, he appeared as a small young boy, clothes
a bit battered, but otherwise unharmed.
"GAH!" Inaho jumped back in surprise, the look on her face
priceless.
"Wh-who are you?!?" she demanded.
"Ano, this is Myoujin Sano, also known as Honou,"
Kenshin supplied.
She bent over the miniature Sano, poking his shoulder
where the bullet had been fired, feeling his shoulder whole. She
commenced with her systematic poking inspection.
"Would you cut that out, Inaho-mama?" Honou snarled.
Inaho stopped her inspection and knelt in front of Honou,
putting her face down level with his.
"Inaho... MAMA?!?" Steam seemed to pop out of her ears
as her face flushed with anger. She didn't LOOK that OLD, did
she?
"So, what's Inaho-mama doing looking like that, like a
tomato from last year's harvest?" Honou taunted.
Amazingly, Inaho sublimated her anger.
"Hmph," she said, suddenly turning away with a haughty
gesture. "I don't know about him being a Honou, Mo-chan."
"Oro?" Mo-chan and Honou raised their brows.
Inaho turned around, a smug smile once again on her face.
"He looks more like a Punk Fire Kid (Ya Hi Ko) to me,
OHOHOHOOO!!!"
"NANDESHITE?!?!?" Honou screamed, fire blazing in his
eyes.
"YAHIKO, YAHIKO, BIIIII-DA!" Inaho said, sticking her
tongue out at Honou.
"I'm gonna kill her!!!!" Honou shrieked, as Kenshin vainly
tried to restrain him.
"Nah, Honou, shizu ni de gozaru yo!"
"Nyeh, nyeh, nyeh!!!!" Inaho mocked.
"OHOUHOOUHOOOOO!!!!!"

***

"Ne, Inaho-mama, how far do we have to walk?" Honou
pestered weakly, his face haggard from exhaustion.
"Don't... call me... Inaho-mama..." she huffed, her breath
coming in ragged gasps.
"We've been walking from Sendai to Tokyo for four hours
now," Kenshin said, lightly stepping along with them. "It should
only be about 20 kilometers or so left, de gozaru."
"Wah, I'm so tired!" Inaho whimpered. "Mo-chan, why
didn't you save the plane?"
"Sumanai, Inaho-dono," Kenshin said sheepishly. "I could
only carry you on the drop. If I tried to carry the plane, I might
have been flattened."
"You were worried about being flattened, and that's why I
have to suffer now?!?" Inaho's voice began to rise.
"I'll show you flattened!!" Inaho shrieked, pounding the
stuffing out of Kenshin again.
Honou sighed. She said she was tired, but she still had
enough energy to trounce Kenshin.
"The boss was sure snagged by a real bimbo this time," he
added under his breath.
"What was that, Ya-hi-ko?!?"
"Urk!"
Cries of pain and oro haunted the path from Tokyo to
Sendai.

***

Jikai, Master Battousai de gozaru!

A cold winter's night. A blue vision of heart's door. The
sound of a woman falling... to the open. From a mother's embrace,
to the icy tendrils of despair. What does it mean, this thing? Love,
infatuation, longing... The door closes. Else it shall not open. The
woman no longer rests...

iii. Opening Doors

Minna wa, issho ni yomite de gozaru yo!