Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ Reaching For One's Dreams ❯ Chapter 1

It was a little red Ford Tempo that had pulled in front of the large apartment complex, a little Ford Tempo that had seen better days. Age was apparent - it didn't look like any of the newer models that were parked along the street and in the nearby parking lots. Its hood had dents and so did the sides. The owner, a young man with long red hair that had been swept back into a low tail, blue eyes, and a cross-shaped scar on his left cheek, climbed out and gazed at the tall building. Kenshin quickly glanced at the piece of paper in his hand then smiled.

'Finally made it,' he sighed happily, folding it back up. 'Didn't think I would. Not with the way this old beast has been acting.'

He gave it a loving pat before grabbing his keys and heading inside. There was a lot he still had to do just yet. Getting the key to his new apartment was only the beginning.

Three hours later, he had all of the boxes from his car in the apartment. Most of his possessions consisted of old books and some bookshelves. He had his clothes, a stereo system, a traditional futon, an old guitar and a katana. The phone would be connected in a few days. He still needed plates and bowls, silverware, glasses . . . and furniture. Even with the boxes scattered throughout the place, it still looked bare, un-lived in.

'All of that can be taken care of tomorrow,' Kenshin thought as he leaned against the wall, guitar in hand. A piece of paper and a pen sat to his right, a black line through one of the words that had been written.

Find an apartment

He chuckled as he idly strummed the guitar. Phase one of his plan had been completed. The next part, finding the right band mates to form a group, would prove to be much more difficult than finding a place to live.

* * *

Journal Entry #15. Date: June 1, 1995

I've finally moved into my new place. It isn't much . . . but then it doesn't need to be, as I'm the only one going to be living here . . . I won't make the mistake of letting other people move in with me again.

I'm hoping things work out this time. I really do . . . because this is it. I don't have it in me to pack up and relocate again.

Tomorrow, I'll buy the local paper and go through the ads . . . and work on my own. There has to be someone out there who wants to do what I do . . . who wants to play for the love of playing . . .

* * *

Kenshin lowered his pen then let out a sigh. He didn't want to tread down memory lane. Not tonight. Setting his pen down and putting his guitar back in its case. Tomorrow was going to be a busy day.

 

There came a knock to the door and he smiled. His first meal in his new home had arrived.

 

`Yes . . . tomorrow will be busy . . . Very busy indeed!'