Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Final Goodbyes ❯ Final Goodbyes ( One-Shot )

Author's Notes: This takes place sometime after Jinchuu. Of course, it takes a rather far (if predictable) right turn from the original, as you probably guess, so...read on and see. :P

 

Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the property of Watsuki-san, and are used without permission for non-profit, entertainment purposes.

 

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Rurouni Kenshin:

 

Final Goodbyes

 

by Kryptik

 

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"Pfft...you'd think they'd learn after all this time..."

 

Sanosuke muttered and dusted his hands, leaving behind the battered bodies of the broken souls of Rakuminmura. Sighing, he picked up the cloth-wrapped package and made his way past them to the one place in the village of fallen men he ever bothered to visit. HIS place.

 

"Kenshin..." Sano said...no more in that conversational tone he'd use with the rurouni in the times when he'd drag the poor red-haired man around with him to gamble, or when he'd visit the Kamiya Dojo to essentially mooch off them for lunch. No...that was forever gone, replaced by the steeled, almost accusatory tone Sano took anytime Kenshin came up nowadays. "I said I'd never visit here again, but funny how promises to yourself get broken like that. Not that I can stand to see you like this. I only came back for one reason anyways." The street fighter roughly dropped the cloth-wrapped bundle he had brought with him, the whole thing unwrapping upon dropping to the ground to reveal a sword. At least, shards of what used to be a sword. Not just any sword, either. It was a distinct sword, one that Kenshin nor Sano, nor anyone else who was there that fateful day would forget. The exact type of sword that carried out the horrible act of Jinchuu upon Kenshin. The very same kind of sword that had pierced through the heart of one Kamiya Kaoru and, in that one act, turned one of the most feared men in all of Japan into a huddled, broken excuse of a life. "He's dead." It was obvious who the 'he' was, as if either could forget him. The maddening eyes, the unforgettable shock of white hair, and the look of a man hellbent: Yukishiro Enishi.

 

"We found him holed up on an island near Arakawa." He snorted a bit as he thought of just how they had to get said information. "We had to find out from that Saito bastard and his new pet broomhead." His fists flexed as he rolls his neck around, making sure he didn't develop a crick after looking down so much.

 

"When we got there, he was beaten up a lot already. Some sort of conflict with his second. I guess some plan of theirs fell through, I dunno. I just remember seeing him, four dead bodies and one bowl-headed guy half-dead too. More 'n a couple of bulletwounds on Enishi too." The way Sano spat Enishi's name out make no attempt at hiding his utter revulsion at the man. Sighing, the street fighter slumped down, dropping to the ground and settling down, even as he heard the dull groans of the broken men behind him.

 

"I honestly don't think we could've done it if he wasn't already beaten to hell already. He was half out of his mind, screaming about his sister's smile. I...I don't know about her or him or you back then, so...you fill in the blanks there." Shaking his head, he dropped his hands between his legs, elbows resting on his thighs as he continued.

 

 

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

 

It had been a battle that was epic. And despite taking him four against one, each of them had come a hair's width of meeting their end instead. Even now, their blood pealed off their skin, through tears in their clothes to soak into the soil beneath their feet. Sano's right hand bled profusely amongst other things on his person, the wraps around his knuckles soaked deep red. Another scar left by the Futae no Kiwami, and it was doubtful that even Megumi could fix it this time. Yahiko's gi and hakama were shredden nearly all along his left side, and he was barely in the fight itself. Aoshi wasn't much better off, his arms streaked red and his chest similarly crimson, his hand held at a particularly deep cut into his shoulder.

 

The only one left unharmed was Misao, for reasons Enishi would take to the grave with him. Despite being left without a scratch, she too was painted red in splatters. She could scarcely make a sound. All she could do was stare at the corpse at her feet, a hand held to her throat while the others shakily held the kunai she had meant to throw at him.

 

That was before he had leveled his sword at her throat. Or what left of it Sano had left him after the Futae no Kiwami shattered it.

 

"I-it's over?" Yahiko asked, his shinai held limply, frays seen along the strips of its 'blade'. He stared down at Enishi, particularly the two shots at the base of his neck: one fist-sized just below his skull, another smaller and round right where the spine passed the shoulders. As he stared, his eyes held a look of mixed emotion. Fear that the whirlwind of a man would rise up again. Horror at what he had just been party to. Satisfaction at the knowledge that Kaoru's killer had been killed himself. Confusion as if this were what Kenshin would have wanted had he had the capacity to think rationally anymore. All of this came out in one wide-eyed, dumbfounded expression as the budding swordsman struggled to figure out which emotion was strongest within his heart.

 

"It had damn well better be," Sano said, his left fist flexing, his knuckles scraped. It was still in far better shape than his right hand was though. Still not trusting enough to believe Enishi to be finally dead, he kicked Enishi in the ribs sharply, only to face a quick rebuke from Aoshi.

 

"Even a child knows not to prod a sleeping tiger." Still, the Onmitsu knew well enough that Sanosuke's skepticism wasn't unfounded. Leveling one of his kodachi down at Enishi's neck, he reached down low enough until the blade touched the man's neck. Surely, a man of his training and as attuned to his weapon as Enishi was would react even from deep unconsciousness at the touch of sharpened steel against such a vital point. But the sole movement from the fallen man of Jinchuu was that of his blood seeping into the soil from the 6 crossing chest wounds Aoshi himself had inflicted.

 

"A-A-Aosh-sh..." Misao stuttered, a fearful look still in her eye. All that she could think of at that point was what had just befallen before her. Something unforgettable. The man who had stuck his blade through Kaoru-san's heart stumbling back, nearly slicing open her neck with his destroyed sword in his episode. The other three pouncing on that moment of vulnerability to attack in a rare moment of pure synchronicity. A punch, a stab, and a whirl of steel later, and Enishi was dead before her feet. The only thing that managed to shock her back to her senses was the feeling of a hand clapping onto her shoulder.

 

"You're alive, and he's not. That's what matters, isn't it?" Aoshi said rather bluntly, simply staring off into the ocean behind her. It wasn't exactly comforting words, but they were enough for Misao.

 

"It's over then. And even his Jinchuu couldn't keep his own sister from haunting him, huh?" Yahiko said, giving in to the urge to collapse finally as his legs gave way, sending the kid swordsman onto his butt. Sanosuke simply passed by him, looking down at the shattered remains of Enishi's wattou. Carefully, he started to pick each shard, each sliver of the blade up, gathering them into a small bundling. The strange act was enough to give Misao her voice back.

 

"H-h-hey, what are you doing?" she asked, confusedly, breaking from her vaunted Aoshi-sama's grip just long enough to look Sano in the eye.

 

"This isn't over until he sees this." It was obvious to all who Sano spoke of.

 

"Let me take them!" Yahiko demanded, trying his best to stand up but ultimately succumbing to his fatigue yet again.

 

"No, this is something I gotta do on my own," Sano said, picking up the final shard before wrapping up the bundling tightly, slinging it over his shoulder much like his usual duffelbag. "Alright...lets go back." The street fighter gave one last look down at the sprawled form of what used to be Yukishiro Enishi before snapping his head away in disgust.

 

He wasted no time in making his way back to the boat, finding little satisfaction aside from making sure those damned glasses of the white-haired bastard were crushed underfoot on his first step out.

 

.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.oOo.

 

"....so that's what happened," Sano said, sighing as he picked himself back up onto his feet.

 

"Fox-lady says my right hand's probably no good for fighting anymore. Not like it's a big deal. I still got my left hand...she wants me to stay, you know. Do something else aside from fight." He closed his eyes at the thought, snorting at such a foolish idea. "Like I can do anything else. She knows that too, even if she wished she didn't. If only wishes meant something these days." That left a frown on Sano's face.

 

"So now...well, Yahiko's gone, what with nothing to go back to, except maybe Tsubame, and I heard Tae let her go off with him. I heard he's going after your teacher. Something about taking up where you left off. Doubt he'll succeed, if you..."

 

His own thoughts were cut off as he slammed his left fist into his palm, gritting his teeth as he glared down at the former hitokiri, the man who was once called Battousai. "Dammit, Kenshin, I know you loved her. I don't think anyone even thought it was any sort of secret. Even the fox-lady, with her pining after you still, knew it. That's no damned excuse for letting this happen to yourself!" Sanosuke didn't care that he was shouting, or that Kenshin couldn't even hear him most likely. He needed to say it. "You don't think anyone else cared about Jou-chan?! All of us did! Even Yahiko, with all his talk of Ugly this, Ugly that did. She was his sister, if in spirit rather than blood. You know how many people came to her funeral? No, 'cuz you didn't even go."

 

Enraged, Sano snapped his foot at the ground, kicking a cloud of dust into the air toward Kenshin's direction. "You didn't even see...you didn't even see how peaceful she looked when we buried her. Like a doll in white..." Sano didn't have it in him to cry. He wasn't the sort to shed tears no matter what. But even he found his words choked despite his anger. Even the great Zanza wasn't immune to emotion.

 

It took him a good 3 minutes to gather himself up before he could talk again. Not that he bothered to. Instead, he turned his back to the swordsman, picking up his duffel bag. As the wind blew through Rakinunmura, Sano finally let himself be heard again. "This the last time I ever come here again. That's a promise I'm keeping for once. And as for you..."

 

Sanosuke stared off into the distance, back in the direction of Tokyo. "As for you...I hope wherever you are, hell, heaven, whatever, I hope you found Jou-chan. And I hope she's smacking the crap out of you for giving up on yourself like you did." Sighing, Sanosuke steeled himself for the long walk back. It was only after his mind gnawed enough that he turned around once more.

 

Walking back, he slowly bent down, leaning over the discarded shards of Enishi's wattou. With a rattle of chains, he picked up the last keepsake left of the one known as Himura Kenshin, the mound of his grave unmoving even as his sakabatou was removed. He even bothered to reach over and dust away the meager little memorial the down-and-out of the village erected for him, sighing at the words enscribed: At Least No More Will Need To Die For This One. "'This One' to the end...guess it's up to us to kee that promise now." With the sword in hand, Sano finally walked off, leaving behind the ruins of the Fallen Village, the final resting place of he who he used to call friend.

 

After all, it wouldn't be fitting for the blade, which protected so many lives both in Kyoto and in Tokyo to remain in such squalor like this. A sword is a swordsman's soul. And even if his body was left here, Himura Kenshin's soul should rest where he left his heart - next to his lost love, Kamiya Kaoru. Maybe then, Sano thought, the two of them could have some measure of peace at last.

 

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Final Notes: Whew...that was a bit too much angst for me. Something I had to get out after finally reading Vol. 24.

 

In any case, I hope you enjoyed the story. A little too much talking on Sano's part, but after something like that, after seeing someone who he probably regard almost like a little sister dead in one of the most horrifying ways, and seeing someone who was a comrade and friend to him waste away as a direct result afterwards, I don't see how he couldn't be a little mouthy.

 

I also apologize to any Enishi lovers, as my distinct lack of knowledge about his techniques (seeing as I don't actually OWN Vol. 24) kept me from doing a full blown action sequence. Thus, I decided to go with just the aftermath rather than write the fight in whole.

 

As for Kenshin, I couldn't help but think if he truely was capable of just...throwing it all away like he did. While I believe his spirit would have been too strong to be broken permanently like that, as much guilt as he carried around would gnaw at anyone. I guess this is just my little thought on how it'd end up if he was too guilt-ridden to continue anymore.

 

Thus, my first and likely only foray into RuroKen fiction is complete. I hope all you angst lovers enjoyed it.