Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Baptism of Blood ❯ Hitokiri ( Chapter 5 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Scarred Sword Heart 
Kenshin receives his first assignment.
Glossary: tenchuu - divine judgment
Anime/Manga: Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Samurai | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.21.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 236 | Status: Completed
Kenshin receives his first assignment.
Glossary: tenchuu - divine judgment
Anime/Manga: Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Action / Drama / Samurai | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 09.21.2007 | Pages: 2 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 236 | Status: Completed
May, 1863
One week had quickly passed since Kenshin had arrived at the Kohagiya with Katsura. During that time, he had learned the layout of Kyoto and had become fast friends with the okami and Iizuka. One day though, Iizuka approached Kenshin with a very serious look replacing his usual easy-going smile. Wordlessly, he held out a black envelope.
Violet eyes wide with confusion, Kenshin took the envelope from Iizuka's hands and opened it. Inside was a paper with a person's name, brief physical description, location and time of day on it. Kenshin's eyes met Iizuka's solemnly. It was time for his baptism of blood.
Kenshin spent the rest of the day holed up in his room, trying to get his wits together for what he knew he must do tonight. Kenshin gripped his new katana and looked himself over in the mirror. Everything had come down to this. His sword training, his argument with Shishou, his trek across Japan. If he failed tonight, it would all be for nothing.
'No failure. No doubts. With my blood stained blade, I will carve a new era,' Kenshin thought to himself, violet eyes narrowing.
---
The night sky was almost pitch black except for the bright stars that dotted it with their diamond-like light. The new moon was completely invisible to the eyes of man.
A young boy with red hair tied back in a top knot crouched down on the roof of a house. Luminous violet eyes scoured the landscape below for his target, whom the paper had told him would be by this place at this time of night.
Himura Kenshin's entire body was taut with dreadful anticipation of what he was to do tonight. Every sound made his body twitch and muscles tighten up. He felt a thousand invisible eyes glaring at him accusingly. He thought he heard voices on the wind.
'Murderer, murderer!'
Kenshin closed his eyes and trained his mind into a hard set. Yes, he would kill tonight, but it was for the new era. Although he knew nothing of his victim, the men to whom he'd entrusted his sword had determined that he was guilty of crimes against the people of Japan. His death would hasten the new era of peace and equality in. That was all Kenshin needed to know.
Just then, Kenshin heard the sound of straw sandals shuffling over the dirt road. Entire body tensing, Kenshin looked down over the edge of the roof and saw a fat, bespectacled man making his way slowly down the road. He matched the description.
Now Kenshin's training as a swordsman took over completely. His senses became augmented, everything he saw grew crisp and vibrant, everything he heard came into his ears with trebled clarity. His heart thundered in his chest, pumping adrenaline to every inch of his body. Gripping the hilt of his katana, Kenshin leapt down from the roof, landing with the grace and silence of a cat.
"Merchant Yamani Nishou, supporter of the Bakufu?" came the quiet, smooth voice from the darkness behind the middle-aged merchant.
Startled, Yamani whipped around to find himself face to face with a red-haired boy who looked to be no more than 11 years old. Yamani smirked at the kid.
"That's right. Need help finding your mommy?"
"Old man, for your crimes against the people of Japan, I have come to cast Tenchuu on you," announced Kenshin, flicking his sword loose from its sheath with his thumb.
"Children shouldn't be playing with dangerous weapons," teased Yamani.
Those words were the last that would cross his lips. In a blurry silver arc, the katana was drawn from its sheath and flew through his neck, separating his head from his trunk. In that instant, Kenshin saw Yamani's face change from cynical to fearful; his eyes looking like those of some poor animal just before it's slaughtered. Yamani's head went rolling down the alley and the body collapsed in a lifeless heap, blood spurting out like a gaysar from the open throat, splashing Kenshin's face and hands with his victim's blood.
Kenshin stood stock still, dumbly looking down at the headless, twitching body on the ground before him. Adrenaline fading, Kenshin felt a cold numbness clawing its way up his body, starting at his feet and not stopping till his scalp was tingling. Moving automatically, Kenshin flicked the blood from his katana and slid it into its sheath. The roiling in his stomach returned with a vengeance. It was stronger this time, complete and total nausea.
Swallowing the urge to vomit, Kenshin broke into a run. He couldn't be in that alley next to the body anymore. He had to get away! Kenshin made it around the corner into an adjoining alley before the bile forced its way up his esophagus, nearly causing him to choke. Kenshin removed one of the wooden slats covering the water flowing underground and disgorged into the sewer. Kenshin's stomach kept spasming, forcing everything he'd had to eat earlier that day up and out of his mouth.
Was this what it was to kill someone, someone who hadn't even attacked him? What could that man have possibly done to deserve to be cut down this way? Now he was covered in the blood of a man, the reason for whose death he didn't even understand. The blood was thick and viscous on his face and hands, dripping and oozing in a red river.
'Unclean! Unclean!'
---
As soon as he slid the gate shut behind him, Kenshin made his way over to the well. He grasped the rope and drew the bucket up from the well's depths. Taking the bucket, he poured the icy water over his head, causing water and blood to mingle and fall in rivulets down his hair, his face and over his clothes.
There was still blood! He had to get it all off. Kenshin quickly lowered and raised the bucket again. Again he picked it up and dumped it over himself, spilling more blood and water to the ground. Kenshin repeated this process about four more times until he at least didn't feel the sticky, nasty blood on his face and hands anymore.
Dropping the bucket carelessly back into the well, a dripping wet Kenshin made his way into the inn. He was exhausted and just wanted to fall into a deep slumber and never wake up. Once back in his room, Kenshin peeled the wet and bloodstained gi and hakama off, balled them up and threw them in a heap across the room.
Kenshin spread open his futon and laid down in it without even bothering to change into his night clothes. He closed his eyes and fell into a fitful, restless sleep. A dream rose up before his eyes of the merchant he had killed that night. The man's severed head was coming at him from out of the darkness, eyes blazing with anger and jaws clacking in silent accusation. Kenshin unsheathed his katana and slashed at the head, cleaving it in two. It dissolved into nothing, leaving him in the darkness.
Kenshin's body jerked as he came awake, drenched in sweat. Grasping at his katana, he sat up and looked wildly around the room. The room was dark and silent and he was quite alone. Even though it had just been a dream, he shook with dread. Kenshin half expected to see the merchant's ghost standing in the corner of the room, staring accusingly at him.
This thought in his head, coupled with the darkness and silence of the room made it impossible for Kenshin to get back to sleep. Gripping the katana, Kenshin left the futon and took a seat in the large window frame. Sliding the screen open part way, Kenshin looked outside at the starry sky. The sun wouldn't rise for another three or so hours.
Kenshin settled against the side of the window frame and held his katana so it was propped against his shoulder, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. As he continued to stare at the stars, he felt a tiny bit calmer than he had in the quiet, accusing darkness of the room. As his body slowly relaxed, the fog of sleep crept silently back into his brain. Kenshin's head drooped forward a bit and he actually fell asleep sitting up.
---
The twittering of birds and light flowing in through the open window finally forced Kenshin's eyes open. Kenshin's back felt stiff and sore from sleeping upright all night. Slowly, he stretched out his achy body. Even though he had gone back into deep sleep, he still felt tired and dirty.
Moving slowly, Kenshin got to his feet and made his way over to the pile of bloody clothes. Even though he would just as soon touch a fire ant hill as those clothes, they needed to be washed. Just as he was about to pick them up, he heard a soft knock at the door. Kenshin groaned inwardly. He really didn't feel up to dealing with people right now.
"Himura-san, are you alright?"
It was the okami, checking up on him.
"Would you like me to wash your clothes for you?"
"You don't need to," Kenshin replied quietly.
"It's not a bother. You don't want to go around in dirty clothes. Just hand them to me through the door and they'll be done by midday," she offered gently.
Kenshin picked up the pile of clothes and slid the door open to face Okami. Her heart softened at the sight of the pale, exhausted boy, his red hair tangled in knots, standing before her in only his fundoshi and juban. Okami smiled gently at Kenshin as she took the gi and hakama from him.
"I'll bring you a breakfast tray in a bit. You need to eat a bit even if you're not hungry," she said in a soft voice.
"Thank you," Kenshin managed in a strained voice.
Okami nodded and left with the clothes in her arms.
After sliding the shouji shut, Kenshin made his way over to the mirror and peered at himself. It was as though a stranger were staring back at him with pale face and dark circles under the eyes. Kenshin was subconsciously aware of the change in his eyes. The warmth and life had been drained from them, replaced by exhaustion and numbness.
'Hitokiri! Murderer! Unclean!'
The baptism of blood was complete.
~~Owari~~
One week had quickly passed since Kenshin had arrived at the Kohagiya with Katsura. During that time, he had learned the layout of Kyoto and had become fast friends with the okami and Iizuka. One day though, Iizuka approached Kenshin with a very serious look replacing his usual easy-going smile. Wordlessly, he held out a black envelope.
Violet eyes wide with confusion, Kenshin took the envelope from Iizuka's hands and opened it. Inside was a paper with a person's name, brief physical description, location and time of day on it. Kenshin's eyes met Iizuka's solemnly. It was time for his baptism of blood.
Kenshin spent the rest of the day holed up in his room, trying to get his wits together for what he knew he must do tonight. Kenshin gripped his new katana and looked himself over in the mirror. Everything had come down to this. His sword training, his argument with Shishou, his trek across Japan. If he failed tonight, it would all be for nothing.
'No failure. No doubts. With my blood stained blade, I will carve a new era,' Kenshin thought to himself, violet eyes narrowing.
---
The night sky was almost pitch black except for the bright stars that dotted it with their diamond-like light. The new moon was completely invisible to the eyes of man.
A young boy with red hair tied back in a top knot crouched down on the roof of a house. Luminous violet eyes scoured the landscape below for his target, whom the paper had told him would be by this place at this time of night.
Himura Kenshin's entire body was taut with dreadful anticipation of what he was to do tonight. Every sound made his body twitch and muscles tighten up. He felt a thousand invisible eyes glaring at him accusingly. He thought he heard voices on the wind.
'Murderer, murderer!'
Kenshin closed his eyes and trained his mind into a hard set. Yes, he would kill tonight, but it was for the new era. Although he knew nothing of his victim, the men to whom he'd entrusted his sword had determined that he was guilty of crimes against the people of Japan. His death would hasten the new era of peace and equality in. That was all Kenshin needed to know.
Just then, Kenshin heard the sound of straw sandals shuffling over the dirt road. Entire body tensing, Kenshin looked down over the edge of the roof and saw a fat, bespectacled man making his way slowly down the road. He matched the description.
Now Kenshin's training as a swordsman took over completely. His senses became augmented, everything he saw grew crisp and vibrant, everything he heard came into his ears with trebled clarity. His heart thundered in his chest, pumping adrenaline to every inch of his body. Gripping the hilt of his katana, Kenshin leapt down from the roof, landing with the grace and silence of a cat.
"Merchant Yamani Nishou, supporter of the Bakufu?" came the quiet, smooth voice from the darkness behind the middle-aged merchant.
Startled, Yamani whipped around to find himself face to face with a red-haired boy who looked to be no more than 11 years old. Yamani smirked at the kid.
"That's right. Need help finding your mommy?"
"Old man, for your crimes against the people of Japan, I have come to cast Tenchuu on you," announced Kenshin, flicking his sword loose from its sheath with his thumb.
"Children shouldn't be playing with dangerous weapons," teased Yamani.
Those words were the last that would cross his lips. In a blurry silver arc, the katana was drawn from its sheath and flew through his neck, separating his head from his trunk. In that instant, Kenshin saw Yamani's face change from cynical to fearful; his eyes looking like those of some poor animal just before it's slaughtered. Yamani's head went rolling down the alley and the body collapsed in a lifeless heap, blood spurting out like a gaysar from the open throat, splashing Kenshin's face and hands with his victim's blood.
Kenshin stood stock still, dumbly looking down at the headless, twitching body on the ground before him. Adrenaline fading, Kenshin felt a cold numbness clawing its way up his body, starting at his feet and not stopping till his scalp was tingling. Moving automatically, Kenshin flicked the blood from his katana and slid it into its sheath. The roiling in his stomach returned with a vengeance. It was stronger this time, complete and total nausea.
Swallowing the urge to vomit, Kenshin broke into a run. He couldn't be in that alley next to the body anymore. He had to get away! Kenshin made it around the corner into an adjoining alley before the bile forced its way up his esophagus, nearly causing him to choke. Kenshin removed one of the wooden slats covering the water flowing underground and disgorged into the sewer. Kenshin's stomach kept spasming, forcing everything he'd had to eat earlier that day up and out of his mouth.
Was this what it was to kill someone, someone who hadn't even attacked him? What could that man have possibly done to deserve to be cut down this way? Now he was covered in the blood of a man, the reason for whose death he didn't even understand. The blood was thick and viscous on his face and hands, dripping and oozing in a red river.
'Unclean! Unclean!'
---
As soon as he slid the gate shut behind him, Kenshin made his way over to the well. He grasped the rope and drew the bucket up from the well's depths. Taking the bucket, he poured the icy water over his head, causing water and blood to mingle and fall in rivulets down his hair, his face and over his clothes.
There was still blood! He had to get it all off. Kenshin quickly lowered and raised the bucket again. Again he picked it up and dumped it over himself, spilling more blood and water to the ground. Kenshin repeated this process about four more times until he at least didn't feel the sticky, nasty blood on his face and hands anymore.
Dropping the bucket carelessly back into the well, a dripping wet Kenshin made his way into the inn. He was exhausted and just wanted to fall into a deep slumber and never wake up. Once back in his room, Kenshin peeled the wet and bloodstained gi and hakama off, balled them up and threw them in a heap across the room.
Kenshin spread open his futon and laid down in it without even bothering to change into his night clothes. He closed his eyes and fell into a fitful, restless sleep. A dream rose up before his eyes of the merchant he had killed that night. The man's severed head was coming at him from out of the darkness, eyes blazing with anger and jaws clacking in silent accusation. Kenshin unsheathed his katana and slashed at the head, cleaving it in two. It dissolved into nothing, leaving him in the darkness.
Kenshin's body jerked as he came awake, drenched in sweat. Grasping at his katana, he sat up and looked wildly around the room. The room was dark and silent and he was quite alone. Even though it had just been a dream, he shook with dread. Kenshin half expected to see the merchant's ghost standing in the corner of the room, staring accusingly at him.
This thought in his head, coupled with the darkness and silence of the room made it impossible for Kenshin to get back to sleep. Gripping the katana, Kenshin left the futon and took a seat in the large window frame. Sliding the screen open part way, Kenshin looked outside at the starry sky. The sun wouldn't rise for another three or so hours.
Kenshin settled against the side of the window frame and held his katana so it was propped against his shoulder, ready to be drawn at a moment's notice. As he continued to stare at the stars, he felt a tiny bit calmer than he had in the quiet, accusing darkness of the room. As his body slowly relaxed, the fog of sleep crept silently back into his brain. Kenshin's head drooped forward a bit and he actually fell asleep sitting up.
---
The twittering of birds and light flowing in through the open window finally forced Kenshin's eyes open. Kenshin's back felt stiff and sore from sleeping upright all night. Slowly, he stretched out his achy body. Even though he had gone back into deep sleep, he still felt tired and dirty.
Moving slowly, Kenshin got to his feet and made his way over to the pile of bloody clothes. Even though he would just as soon touch a fire ant hill as those clothes, they needed to be washed. Just as he was about to pick them up, he heard a soft knock at the door. Kenshin groaned inwardly. He really didn't feel up to dealing with people right now.
"Himura-san, are you alright?"
It was the okami, checking up on him.
"Would you like me to wash your clothes for you?"
"You don't need to," Kenshin replied quietly.
"It's not a bother. You don't want to go around in dirty clothes. Just hand them to me through the door and they'll be done by midday," she offered gently.
Kenshin picked up the pile of clothes and slid the door open to face Okami. Her heart softened at the sight of the pale, exhausted boy, his red hair tangled in knots, standing before her in only his fundoshi and juban. Okami smiled gently at Kenshin as she took the gi and hakama from him.
"I'll bring you a breakfast tray in a bit. You need to eat a bit even if you're not hungry," she said in a soft voice.
"Thank you," Kenshin managed in a strained voice.
Okami nodded and left with the clothes in her arms.
After sliding the shouji shut, Kenshin made his way over to the mirror and peered at himself. It was as though a stranger were staring back at him with pale face and dark circles under the eyes. Kenshin was subconsciously aware of the change in his eyes. The warmth and life had been drained from them, replaced by exhaustion and numbness.
'Hitokiri! Murderer! Unclean!'
The baptism of blood was complete.
~~Owari~~