Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Drone: The Soldier Ant ❯ Drone ( Chapter 1 )

A/N and Disclaimer: So this is a bit experimental for me. I don't really like writing first-person. I feel inadequate when I do it. However, I really wanted to put this one up. The process of training soldiers really does involve a bit of brain-washing. It would be dangerous to have men on the front-line constantly questioning orders or moving too slowly. There's no time to think in the heat of battle. But what does it do to a soldier when he's not on the battlefield. I wanted to explore that aspect of Kenshin. However, this didn't fit very well in Shards so it gets its own entry. Kenshin and company are in no way shape or form my property, nor will they ever be. I gain no profit from doing this…besides enjoying my reader's comments. That's always fun.

 

Warnings: Language

 

Shards of Me

 

Drone: the Soldier Ant

 

The ants go marching one by one…

 

God, what a stupid song to have stuck in my head. I just heard the drum beats. Military march. Children's games. Strange ways to associate thoughts in my head. But my brain works strangely now. Things that I never thought about before all of this are always on my mind.

 

What's the terrain like? Can I run flat out or would I fall and hurt myself? Is there cover? If someone attacked me, would I need backup? Things no one should ever have to think about. They've become part of my everyday thoughts.

 

Souzo is standing next to me, his normally relaxed face set stern and angry. The commanding officers wouldn't know by looking at him, but I can see how tight his mouth is, the way his eyes are blank with disgust. I'm a bit better at hiding it. A military parade we were required to attend even though we don't even technically exist. How stupid.

 

I had thought military parades were outdated, and in a way they are. Instead of forcing soldiers to waste valuable energy marching, they parade out rock stars and politicians. Praises rain down on weary heads and razor glares are directed at men who call our jobs noble.

 

No. Too bitter. If I keep thinking like this, everything I am will disappear. The crowd is dispersing. There will be a loud concert with music none of us really likes and more beer than I can bear. Turn, step. Why do all my movements seem so mechanical? I'm becoming a machine. Terrifying. Sometimes I go through entire days without even really engaging my mind. Everything is so formulaic. Designed to brainwash.

 

My room is bare. One small advantage to being a member of an elite corps. Separate cells so we can relive our personal hells in private. A small favor for those who are embarrassed to cry about what they've seen, what they've done. The walls are mostly bare. I've only an ancient picture of parents I don't remember and one picture of Kaoru. Her blue eyes sparkle through, even though the other colors are fading away. A small hint that more exists than just these walls, just this war. My swords are glinting ominously in their case, open on my desk because I have a mission tomorrow.

 

Sit at the bed. Need a distraction. I pick up the cheap paperback I found in an enemy base. It managed to avoid the spray of blood from its owner's jugular and the words were English. Anything for a distraction, even a shitty book like this. A knock. Great. Not one of them…

 

Souzo, a bottle in one hand and two shot glasses in the other.

 

“Souzo…”

 

“I know, I know. You don't like booze. But one shot to celebrate your birthday won't hurt you.”

 

Surprise. “Did Saitoh tell you?”

 

“I might have sneaked a glance at your records while I was in his office. You've been here almost a year and you still haven't celebrated a birthday, so I figured it was about time.”

 

“I didn't want anyone to know.”

 

“What, afraid of getting older?”

 

Can't answer that. It's too close to the truth. I leave him at the door. He'll come in whether I tell him to or not.

 

I can hear the cap coming loose, the clink of cheap glass on glass.

 

“Sorry, it's warm,” he says. He sounds genuinely disappointed.

 

The glass is thrust under my nose, the pungent scent of whiskey drifting up. If you're going to dance with the devil…

 

“Thanks,” I mumble.

 

“How old are you anyway?”

 

“You looked at my birthday and didn't check the year?”

 

“Nope.”

 

Shift uneasily. “It doesn't really matter.”

 

I can hear the frown in his voice, even though I can't see the dark brows knit together.

 

“What if it matters to me?”

 

“I can't really remember. The last birthday I celebrated turned out really shitty so…I stopped bothering.”

 

Only half of the sentence was a lie.

 

Souzo was silent. He was looking around the room. I could feel his eyes sweep a few times, taking in the crumbling walls and the drab covers, the sad little desk. I think my dorm room probably looked better than this, but I have a hard time remembering a lot of things from before. Remembering would come with longing. And my job's not finished here yet.

 

“Who's she?”

 

I glanced back at him and followed his eyes to Kaoru's picture. “She's…a friend. Sort of. `Friend' isn't really the right word, but…”

 

“Would she want you to celebrate your birthday?”

 

I wasn't about to tell him I'd gotten a card from her last week wishing me the best. It was tucked safely with all her other letters at the back of my drawer.

 

“Probably, but she's not here to hassle me about it.”

 

“Which is precisely why I'm doing it for her.”

 

“Fuck you, Souzo.”

 

“Now, is that any way to speak to your commanding officer?”

 

“Don't even go there.”

 

Rather than retort and feed my short temper, he flops onto the bed. “Jeeze. Your mattress is shit. Want me to requisition a new one?”

 

“I don't sleep on it.”

 

The silence is questioning. I can feel his dark gaze on my shoulder, studying my blank eyes. I wonder if they're gold. Seems like they're always gold now.

 

“Where do you sleep then?”

 

“In the window.”

 

The narrow ledge between the pane and the walls is infinitely more comfortable than that plastic-wrapped death trap. Safer. Easier to escape from.

 

“That's not healthy, Kenshin.”

 

“Nothing here is healthy.”

 

Damn his eyes. They're like hers in some ways. Piercing through me, dissecting all my motives, all my sick thoughts.

 

“This place is killing you.”

 

No question. Only cold fact. I shrug. “Everyone's dying, Souzo. At least I'm doing something meaningful while I do it.”

 

“You've been here for a year. You could go home.”

 

“I can't go home.” Too quiet. I don't know if he even heard me say it.

 

“Why do you say that?”

 

Damn.

 

I tilt back the whiskey. Sharp and metallic in my mouth. Like blood. I almost spit it out.

 

“Kenshin.”

 

A second sip. My throat is bleeding at the taste.

 

“Answer me.”

 

His voice is stern now, that of a commanding officer.

 

“She wouldn't know me. I'm not…me…anymore.”

 

He rises from the bed, throwing back his own shot as he moves. Long fingers pluck at Kaoru's picture, drawing her from the wall.

 

“'Friend,' huh? Define `friend' for me, Kenshin.”

 

“Someone who knows me inside and out. Who's stood by me even when I was a total dick.”

 

I answer without thinking. She's still my world. I can't stand the thought of what I've become in her eyes.

 

“This sounds serious,” he murmurs, pouring me another shot. “Were you two engaged or something?”

 

“I…I've never even kissed her.”

 

His eyebrow is questioning. “Huh…so…”

 

He lets the thought hang, not quite willing to embarrass me more than he already has. He seems to sense how close to the edge I am tonight.

 

“I couldn't…I was afraid to ask her if we could…you know…take it to the next level. Or however the hell you want to put it. We were close friends for years and I just…I was terrified I'd fuck it up.”

 

“Were you running away from her?”

 

I shook my head, not in a negative answer but as though I was shaking off the sick feelings creeping up my spine.

 

“No, I…”

 

I don't know how to finish the sentence. Was I running? Do I even know anymore? I wanted…to be worthy somehow. I wanted to do some good…

 

“We all did. But you always do things for two reasons.”

 

Had I spoken aloud? I don't even know. How have I come to this…steel not yet forged in heat. Strong but brittle. Too close to shattering.

 

He lets things hang in the air for a while. “Kenshin, you're a good man. Too good for this war. If I was the top officer in this operation, I'd send you home without a second thought. But it's up to Saitoh and he's a hard man. You should get out while you still can. You're still the person she remembers. You've just been chipped a little.”

 

A chipped sword. He really does know me as well as she does. “I'm leaving the whiskey here. Get yourself drunk and sign your resignation. You should go home.”

 

He left, the door slamming shut behind him.

 

Another shot. I'm three glasses in. Might as well go for the whole shebang and be hung over tomorrow as I flit through the desert, hunting my next victim.

 

“'Go home.'” Light words scoffed into the gathering darkness. Knives and razors down my throat. “There's no home left to go to, Sozou.”

 

Cheeks and ears on fire with the heat of alcohol. “No home left.”