Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Blade and Eyes ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

It was raining. The two figures in the street stood apart yet together, one thing connecting them, a long silver blade. He held the sword to her neck putting slight pressure into it. He looked into her silver eyes. And suddenly it seemed as if there were many people standing around them, yet there were not. Voices filled the empty street. He stood captivated as thoughts rampaged through his head. `Why?' He heard it clear as if the girl in front of him had spoken it, yet nothing had been spoken out loud, and it was not a word filled with fear, it was filled almost with… compassion and wonderment. `NOO!' Screaming pierced his brain yet nothing emitted from the woman's mouth in front of him. Shouts of fathers telling their families to run, shouts of children as their parents died before their eyes. The horror, and pain filled eyes that matched the screeches freezing his head.

He shook his head a little, trying to clear it. His blade cut into her skin. Shouts continued to reverberate through his conscience, but there was one that slowly was made clearer among the storm, the shouts faded and were replaced with a calmer, quieter, softer voice until it was the only thing flowing through his thoughts. `Why does he kill? What happened in his past that he thinks this is the answer?' He brought more pressure to the metal lying across her neck to test her, she didn't flinch. Instead the words continued to echo through his head. `What does he think about? What does he see-?' Their eyes locked together, his filled with shock and fear, and, hatred. His cold ones met hers, the eyes that held not fear of death, but a calm look of childish indescribable emotion. She looked… at peace.

The `voices' were brought to a sudden stop as his blade swung back from her delicate skin and fell to the ground with a clatter. He grabbed his head and fell to his knees in the dark cold street. She gasped and brought her hand to her neck, her hand was soon wet and sticky with a red substance. But her silver eyes never left his figure huddled in the puddle at her feet. There was no movement, he just crouched there, and she bent down to him and set her hand upon his back. He brought his blood red eyes up to hers, tears still flowing. Nothing needed to be spoken between them; the sword had done what was needed, the killer had become the killed and the slave the freedman. She helped him to his feet, and they walked to the nearest inn.