Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Happiness In Slavery ❯ chapter 2 ( Chapter 2 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

--Note added July 21, 2005: Sorry it took so long to get this out!! The computer with internet has a virus. When it is fixed, you will be reading what I have just written, hence the lateness in this getting out.--

Date Started: July 14, 2005 9:47 PM JST

Ready for a relatively long chapter?? I plan on making this one long, but not unbearably so. Maybe we'll find out who this chick really is?

Oh!! Title!! I have one. I got inspiration for it from a song by Nine Inch Nails: Happiness in Slavery. The two are slaves in a way, to what they do. Can they ever find happiness within that slavery??? Umm… What do you think?? I now give you, the no longer untitled, Happiness in Slavery.

Happiness in Slavery

Rating: Older Teens

Chapter 2

Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin or any of its characters in shape or form. I do own this plot and any changes I make to characters, as long as its legal. You steal you die.

End of Chapter 1

The small hands were placed over the wound that was bleeding. He was unsure of how serious the wound was, but it was a long gash, and if not treated soon, especially in this rain, it would risk infection. The victor moved towards him, to quick for the injured one to catch until he was already in front of him. Placing his hands on the slender shoulders, he smoothly and quietly said, “I just need to look at your wound. It will only take one second.” And before anything else could be done, he removed the hands from his chest, and opened up the front of his gi. What surprised the man slayer more, was not the fact that his entire torso was wrapped up, nor that the wound was worse than it had looked, but the fact that this person had breasts. This assassin was no man. He was a woman.

The amber eyes simply stared. He didn't know whether to be pissed off at his shishou, or concerned about this woman. Truthfully, he was both. Now that it was obvious that the assassin was not a man, she spoke with her true voice, “You going to stare all day? Or shall we get out of the rain and get the wound you seemed so concerned about treated?” Her voice was cold, filled with nothing but ice. After her brief outburst, she had recovered herself. The woman pulled her gi firmly shut, and then reached down and picked up her katana, placing it in its sheath.

The blue eyed one seemed to feel nothing from the wound. No flickers of pain reflected from her steely eyes, no flinching from movements. She was like ice, just as her voice was. The rain continued pouring, the two so soaked that their clothes absorbed no more water, as the red head said just as coolly as she had spoken, “Follow me.” Her hard and steady gaze fell upon him. A gaze so strong that if any normal person were to look upon it, he would shudder and look away in slight fear. Her eyes shut as her head bobbed up and down in agreement.

The fact that she was a woman again came to mind, as he began to lead the way to their destination. Who on earth had took it upon himself to train a woman in the arts of the sword? Let alone, train a woman so well that she practically equaled him in his art, and then to be burdened with the conscience and guilt of murdering. No woman had any right to suffer from that. And, he had not even been given a name. The least that the boss could have done was give him a name. Battousai wanted to know who it was that had trained her. He wanted to know where she came from and who she was, and how she had ended up being this. Instinct told the red head that he would not get any of that information from her, and usually, his instinct was correct.

“You wish to know my name do you?” Her voice cut through the rain. He also wanted to know how the hell she was able to read his thoughts and speak to him with the mind. The girl with raven hair was close behind him, daunted not by the speed at which the top assassin in Japan was walking. She was keeping perfect step with him, despite the wound upon her chest, “You wish to know many things…” Her emotionless questioning continued, “Where I came from… how I… became what I am today?” Stopping, the man turned around. Those dark eyes stared into his, this time with an emotion, one of mockery, “I will tell you the name I use. Only one other man alive knows it. You will get the honor of hearing it and living to tell the tale.” Honey golden eyes returned the stare, and she then said, “Himitsu.”

“Your name suits you well.” The mockery that had filled her eyes, and still did, was beginning to piss him off. The Hitokiri figured that he needed to block his thoughts from her. He had only been taught once or twice about the art of mind reading. He wasn't exactly sure of what power she used, but mind reading was close enough, and thus, the red head cut his thoughts off from any listening ears. The mockery left and satisfaction surfaced, “You know that little trick then? Very good.”

Countering, “It seems that you abuse the little art of mind reading do you not?” Turning around, his long hair that was up high in a ponytail, whipped itself around his neck, the water absorbed in his locks causing it to stick to skin. Her voice hissed, “I may and I may not.” Alas, a `partner' who is very vague and blunt. Then again, so was he. He then began walking again, and noted that the one whose name meant exactly what she was, followed. He might have known that she would have a name to suit herself. The assassin wasn't sure if the girl had actually chosen the name, or had been given it, as he himself had been given the title of Hitokiri

By now, he stopped in front of an elaborate gate, and a tall wall surrounded the property. He brought out a key, and unlocked the shut gate, and what was revealed, was a dojo, a small house next to it, and a few extra things scattered about. The dojo was dark, the house, however, was dimly lit. He turned his head towards the woman who had remained at the gate. She was staring at her surroundings with no remote sign as to why she remained there, “Well, are you going to come in out of the rain? Or are you going to stay out here and let your wound get infected?” She seemed to awaken from a trance, and fixated her gaze upon his, “I am coming.” And with that, she entered the place completely, and followed the Battousai into the house.

The second she entered the main building, she removed her sandals and socks, and set her hat aside, all in the same manner that she had used when she had entered the building that was host to her mission. She knew exactly where her said comrade was headed. Himitsu had been here before, in a time when she was a simple, innocent girl. Those days were long past, and she did not linger long on the thoughts, pushing them aside. Once Battousai had stepped out of the entry hall and onto the wooden floor, he walked down the hall and slid open one of the doors that lined the hallway. Water dripped from his clothes, creating puddles, as he waited for the female assassin to come to the door and enter the room.

She headed in the direction of the red head, but, instead of going into the room, she walked on a little further and then slid her slender hand along the wall as if looking for something. It did not take long for her treasure to be found. Her fingers slid along a single crevice in the wooden wall and then a thin fingertip pushed on some button of sorts, and then what once had seemed like an innocent wall, was now being slid open as a normal door. What the hell is that? The thought ran through his head. He followed her now, as she entered. However, as he reached the door, she turned around and slammed it shut in his face.

“Open the door.”

Her voice responded just as calmly, “Not until I come out will I open the door. Leave me alone for a little while. Why don't you go change your clothes or something? We don't want our top assassin to die of a cold now do we?” Her mocking voice. This Himitsu really liked mockery, and it seemed that was the only emotion that would ever come out of her mouth and the only emotion to be revealed in her eyes. He sent one cold glare at the now hidden doorway, and turned around and went into another room.

She looked around the pitch black room, which even in the dark was so familiar to her. Walking forward with confidence, she stopped about five steps later. Reaching her right hand forward, she pulled something open, and then struck a match, and a small flame was born. She moved the match slowly and a candle came into range of view from the faint light. Once the candle was lit, more was seen. The waxy stick was sitting upon a wooden table that had a drawer open, which was what she had taken the match from. The girl herself was only inches away. Indeed, she did know this room. She grabbed one more match from the desk, and then placed it in the flame of the candle, and walked across the room, her other hand protecting the flame, and lighted another candle. The side of the room it rested in, was quite plain. The far wall from the doorway, also had a candle lit moments later, and a set of sliding doors were seen. Now that there was enough light in the room for the entire place to be seen, she walked towards these doors and opened one of them.

Inside, there was a folded up futon, a small, flat pillow, and then a very small assortment of clothing: one set of hakami and gi, one darkly colored kimono, a yukata, a set of undergarments, and two pair of traditional socks. The girl grabbed the set of undergarments and the kimono and obi. She decided it would be best to play it safe and play the role of the woman she really was, and nothing more, for the sake of herself and her partner. She then removed her clothes, quickly placing the wet garments in a small basket that sat in the corner, so as not the get the tatami mats of the room any more wet. She had set her sword against the wall.

She stood in the room, completely naked, except for the wrappings that she used to bind her chest for support. Untying her long locks, they fell wet around her shoulders, reaching all the way down to her hips. Finally, she brought out some medical treatment for herself, and sat on the floor. She squeezed water from the ends of her own hair onto a small rag, and wiped clean the blood from her deep wound. The bleeding did not stop, and she had soon unbound her torso and rebound it with clean wrappings tighter than usual. Finally, it seemed as though the young assassin had completed her task.

Reaching for the garments she had pulled out of the closet, she dressed herself silently. The clothes fit her perfectly. The kimono was quite beautiful, its darkness giving the girl an evil beauty. Her obi was tied in a simple fashion, lacking any fancy bows in the back. It was tied tightly as any sensible woman would tie it. However, she left her long, damp hair down, a sign that she would not be playing a quiet woman. She left her feet bare, not wanting to have stocking clad feet. Walking back towards the drawer, she slipped her hand inside and brought out two containers and two brushes. Black kohl filled the first container, and she stared into the small oval mirror that hung on the wall above the table. The kohl was skillfully applied thickly around her lashes. The other container held a red paint like substance, and it was applied to her heart shaped lips. She looked like a deadly woman filled with secrets.

One of the last things Himitsu did, was to pick up her katana, and secure it at her hip. Play a woman she would, but an assassin she would remain. Blowing out the candles, one by one, she left the room as she had found it, and slid open the door, stepping into the dimly lit hallway.

The moment he had gone into the room, he was greeted by lit lanterns and two men. One of the men held out dry clothes to the red head, who gladly accepted them. Battousai did not take much time in changing, and soon faced the two with a stern look, “You failed to mention something.” The words were filled with what sounded like a death sentence.

“Aah… so you discovered one of her secrets?” The larger man replied, and turned to the first man whom had given the assassin the clothes, “Leave us. Return to your post.” He simply nodded towards his leader, bowed low touching his forehead to the tatami covered floor, and then hastily left the dim room, “So, Battousai, I take it you are unhappy with me for not saying anything earlier?”

“Unhappy?” The word sharply left his lips, “What concerns me above all, is WHY a woman is even involved.” He paused, considering what to say next, “No woman should have to suffer the guilt of murder.”

The boss shook his head back in laughter, “Do you actually think I wanted her to come here?!” The laughing ceased after several more moments, “Let me tell you something, my pupil, she came and practically begged me to allow her to become what she is today. I told her she was insane, and that the only way I would allow her a chance to take on this cursed field, was if she could defeat me in a match. Believe me, she argued plenty, and even said that maybe she was insane. She accepted my offer of a fight, and in ten minutes flat, she had me on the ground.”

The words caused his amber eyes to narrow, “She defeated you? In ten minutes?” He stared across at his master, “Yet, she did not defeat me. Who is she? Where did she come from?”

A twinkle seemed to shine in the dark eyes, “And that, my friend, is why she has her name. She is filled with many secrets, as are you. One common attribute between you, and why I choose to pair you up.”

“Why was she dressed as a man, Hiko?”

The man rubbed his fingers under his chin pondering a moment, “Hmm… perhaps you could find that out from her yourself. You have plenty of time.” With that Hiko's huge form stood, and he made his way to leave the room, sliding open the door, “Good night, Battousai,” He looked into the hallway and then turned his features back to the red head, “Looks like you have company.” And with that, the large man left the room and his footsteps disappeared down the hall.

“Go ahead and come in. I know you are there.” Her silhouette stood in the light from the hallway that had penetrated the dimness of the room he sat cross-legged in. He couldn't make out all her features, but it was obvious that she was now dressed for her proper role. The woman stepped into the room, sliding the door shut behind her without even seeming to touch it, “Sit won't you?” The man asked her. She nodded, and walked forward and then knelt across from him, her back straight, her face blank.

His gold eyes roamed over her figure. Her kimono was of the deepest blue, and had no special prints, the obi was a pale yellow to contrast, just as simple, yet elaborate, as the kimono. Her hair was worn down, and still wet, and he felt that her hair should be up, properly. What surprised him the most, was the beauty of her. The make up only helped to intensify her hard face's loveliness. Her figure was like an hourglass, and though her arms were covered by the sleeves of her attire, he knew they were powerful, and more than likely muscled.

She in return, studied him. From what she remembered, he was only three or four inches taller than him. His hair was red, not the bright flaming red of a foreigner, but the deep, rich red of something she could never imagine, the closest thing she could think of to compare it to was blood. His amber eyes so cold and hard, had a significant beauty. His gi was loose, some of his muscled chest showing, and his calloused hands were resting on his knees. He was truly, an original, not someone you saw everyday. Then he broke the silence and their scrutinizing stopped, “Where did you get the clothes?”

“My room.” Her silvery voice slipped out, “I know you have many questions. Go on, ask one, I feel inclined to answer a question here and there.” She then paused as if waiting for him to say the next thing, which she was.

“You're room?” He too paused, but continued, “How did you know about that room? The previous owners of this dojo were killed. No one survived the slaughter.”

“That is where you are wrong.” Himetsu's words cut like ice. She thought a few moments, her blue eyes looking around the room with a familiarity, “This room. It once belonged to…” She returned her cool gaze to him, “My father, and my mother. The room across the hall, my brother. I barely survived with my life. The last thing I did was grab my father's sword from his dead grasp, and left Kyoto after crudely treating myself. After which, I sought out Hiko and joined ranks with him as a ghost assassin, dead to the world. It seems, however, that my role as a ghost is over.”

“You are the daughter of-”

“Do not mention that name. I no longer go by it, nor recognize it.” She looked around again and said, “No more questions. Maybe another day, I will be willing to answer another question… who knows? You might one day know all about me… but that would be the day that I would kill you. Not even Hiko knows everything about me. Good night.” With that, the small figure stood up, without a second glance to her partner, and left the room as silently as she had entered.

“Tou-san!!!” A young voice cried out, “Tou-san!! Kaa-san!!! Nii-chan!!” A child with big, bright blue eyes and dark hair was running desperately. Her tiny hands clenched tightly to small bundles of flowers. Tall grass surrounded her, reaching up to her waist. She continued running, as fear began to take over her. The beautiful eyes began to well up with tears, and she began wailing, “TOU-SAN!!! KAA-SAN!!!” She stopped moving and plopped down on the ground. She cried so hard, but soon, the sound of another voice was heard.

“Kaoru!!” A desperate woman's voice cried out, “Kaoru, where are you?!”

The wailing stopped and the girl stood up, and saw the face of an older woman close ahead, brown hair and blue eyes adorning the mother's face, “Kaa-san!” The child cried out and ran towards her mother. The two embraced tightly, the older woman murmuring words, “I was so worried! I was afraid I'd lost you!”

The scene fell away, and now a girl of about 13 walked along the porch of a building. She had the same hair and eyes that the child had had. She carried a bucket of water, and was cheerfully humming to herself. She was wearing men's attire, for she had been training it seemed, due to the wooden sword slung across her back, “Kaa-san, I got the water you wanted!” No reply. She figured the woman hadn't heard her. Stepping inside an open door, she again called out, “Kaa-san!” Again, no reply. She walked in the direction of another door, but let out a shriek as she nearly stepped on a blood covered body. The body of her mother.

The girl dropped the bucket and headed into the hallway, and heard the rushing of men. Swords were clanging, metal against metal, “Tou-san…” She whispered hurriedly, and made her way towards the sounds of the battle. She shut the door to her bedroom as she passed, so that no one would enter, and then turned right and entered the open room where her father and her elder brother were fighting several men. She grasped tightly the handle of her training weapon, knowing it would not do much good but brought it out from around her back and cracked it over the head of one of the men. He cried out and yelled, “Why you little bitch!!”

“Kaoru! Get out of here!” Her brother yelled at her. Unfortunately, he had not noticed the man coming up behind him, and the teen witnessed her elder brother's murder. She looked back towards the man coming towards her, “What do you want!! Leave me alone you bastard!” She ducked a swipe, and rolled on the ground, stopping near her dead brother's body. She took the sword from her brother's dead hand and brought it up to block another swipe at her head. Her father was still fighting, a master of his art, but he had a wound to the back, and was getting slower.

Looking about, the girl attacked the man in front of her, successfully spearing his stomach, and then quickly pulling the sword out. He was not dead, but the shock of actually intending to kill someone had caused her to freeze. She let down her guard, and then he attacked her, slicing her stomach. She was not close enough to have the sword cut any vital organs, but she cried out in pain, and shouted, “You killed my mother, you killed my brother! Die!!” And with that, she brought her sword around and swiped off the man's head. She failed to realize that another man came up behind her and he plunged his katana deep into her right shoulder, not penetrating all the way through, and then he pulled it out. She gasped deeply, registering the pain. A pain she had never before felt. She looked around, and saw her father's body was on the ground. Again, a rage filled her, and she turned around, and her sword slit the man's throat and he quickly died. That was the last of the men, and the first of her killings.

Running to her father she cried, “Tou-san! Please don't be dead! Please don't be dead!!” She knelt in front of him, ignoring her own problems. His brown eyes looked up at her, and he said, “My daughter… my beautiful daughter…” He reached up a hand and stroked her face gently, “Leave now, they must not know you are alive, forget the name of Kamiya Kaoru, and never use our name again, until all has passed. Train well, fight hard, you must win, never fail. Or the fate of Japan is sealed.” Tears filled her eyes as she was hearing her father's dying wish, “You must… find the master, you must join him, for he will show you how to defeat them.” With that, he closed his eyes and breathed his last breath. She cried hard, like she had never cried before, but after a short time, she stopped, her eyes no longer the bright blue they had always been, but a dark sapphire filled with cold ice. She grasped her father's beautiful sword that lay by his side, and whispered, “I will honor you, my father. I will…someday, when it is safe to go by your name.” With that, she slowly stood up, and, blood coming from her body, she made her way out of the building, stopping once to grab something to treat her wounds, and then left the building, without any intention of ever returning.

She sat up fast, breathing hard, sweating profusely. She had not dreamt anything about her past in so long, several years actually. Was it possible that it had only been five years since that horrible day? And here she was, back in a place she had sworn to never enter again. She should have not allowed Hiko to relocate her to Kyoto. Yet, how was she supposed to know that the new headquarters were going to be in her once treasured home?

She had been so happy as the girl named Kaoru. Since she had become what she was, there had been no chance for happiness. She was a slave to her work, to her heart, to her promise and secrets. As Kaoru, she may have at one time, been able to allow it. As Himitsu, she would not allow happiness, she would not risk the chance.

Hello hello!! The chapter is finished and quite long right? Hmm… yay, it's quite obvious now as to who she is. And what's this?? She actually told him who she had once been? Why? Well… I thought she should tell him something. Himitsu, I feel, is quite open to answering questions to a certain extent, but as she said, the only way she will allow someone to know all about her is with death. What's this? A slaughter?? Why was her family slaughtered?? Umm… maybe I'll tell you in another chapter or so. And why was there a kimono of perfect fit, when she had been 13 when the deaths occurred, and she is now around 18?ã€€Please let me know what you think alright?

Hotaru

Date Finished: July 18, 2005 5:50 PM JST