Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Hollow ❯ The Hollow ( One-Shot )

The Hollow

Hitokiri.Black

Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin belongs to Watsuki and I don't make any money off of it. So if you want to sue me then your free to take my outhouse and all its contents... It's all I really own, very sad...

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“Hello….Don’t expect conversation…”

“’Doesn’t matter…”

The silence that followed the pair of sentences, filled the crowded, rosily room, where the two teens where. One a raven-haired girl, her shirt solid black with only a small red dot covering the heart, and plain black pants, the other a red-haired boy. His own clothing were also black, but red letters shone across his chest. The girl’s dark lavender eyes slid across the words, reading them silently.

‘Run desire run, sexual being, Run him like a blade, to and through the heart, No conscience, One Motive………’

She glanced at the unfinished sentence, her eyes glazing softly. She sat, looking up at the boy, her eyes lifeless and dead. He stood, his own amber eyes lacking the human glint that occupied the milling people in the air port. Both sat and stood, frozen and unconscious of the noise around them.

The girl was the first to move. Reaching into one of her pockets, she pulled out a small smooth dark stone. Setting it down, she stared fixedly on it. The boy also stared at it, his mind drifting to the possible meanings behind the stone, however none came.

Minutes pasted and neither moved, while around them faceless bodies hurried to and fro, casting only a glance at the two teens in their corner.

Again the girl was the first to move. She placed a hand on a small black handle that pocked out of her pant line. Pulling it out slowly, a sliver blade echoed around their small self appointed kingdom. The others amber eyes followed her every move, watching silently as she pressed the sharp edge to her pale skin. Red bled from the cut she had made on the soft skin, the line perfect, completing the image of an upside down star.

His eyes stared at the image carved on her arm, pausing on the thin red line she had just made. Again she moved the knife to the other scars and reopened the white lines that made the shape.

His eyebrows came together and his lips hardened into a straight line. The boy watched for a moment before he took out a small egg from his bag; A drink of his own making required the runny liquid. He watched her for a moment longer, and then chucked the egg towards her. She had seemed so engrossed with what she was doing that it surprised the other when she moved to one side, the egg smashing into the wall opposite him.

With a soft growl, he took another egg from his bag and places it in his hand.

“Quit dodging...” he said softly and threw it at the girl. She obeyed and the egg smashed on her upper arm, the orange yoke streaming down her skin. Ignoring the egg she dipped her fingers in the blood and rubbed it on the small stone. Her movements were mechanical, and her face showed no pain, posing that she had done this plenty of times before.

The red head stared, transfixed on the girl and her activities. With a tilt of his head he walked close to her, extended a finger and poked her. She showed no response.

Her delicate, pale fingers continued to rub her own blood over the small rock on the ground. She did it with the caution of a painter at his masterpiece.

His eyes narrowed when he saw she was not going too respond and he reached down and pulled the knife from her hand.

“Your stupid.” He said simply. She didn’t look up from her arm, but moved her fingers into one of her boots, drawing another small blade, its handle midnight ebony.

“Does it matter anymore?...” she asked softly, not taking her eyes from the red scar.

The boy ponders her words for a moment before speaking again.

“Why wouldn’t it matter?” he answered with another question. The girl looks to the blood and dips a finger in it. Then for the first time she looks up at his amber eyes and shrugged.

“I was asking you.” She said softly. He watched her for a moment and also shrugged.

“And I asked you.”

She slid her eyes away from him and stared back at the red liquid for a moment before placing the finger on her tongue. After this she looked back at him.

“Because we’re all stupid…” she told him, her voice non chant. He looked into her lifeless eyes before sighing.

“Isn’t that the truth.” He said softly and grabbed her wrist, lifting the girl off the ground. “But that doesn’t give us a reason to do this shit.” He raised her to her feet and the sleeve of his black shirt slips to his elbow. Long white marks crisscrossed his own skin, and the lavender eyes looked to them then to him, nodding.

“No reason. I just do it…” she replied in the same toneless voice. The boy’s eyes flashed and he grabbed the knife from her grip and with one quick fearless move he slashed his own pale skin. With his eyes blazing strangely he throws both knives over to the wall and tugs her into the boy’s bathroom, ignoring the looks passersby gave them.

The lavender eyes follow the blades hungrily and she looked back to him.

“What are you doing?”

“Shut up.” Came his quick answer. He walked over to one of the sinks, turning on the water and shoved her arms under the spout. “Clean up.” He told her curtly. She watches the blood run down the drain and looks back to him.

“I’m never clean…” came her whispered reply. The boy never looked towards her but kept his hand on the sink handle.

“Just do it.”

She shrugs and rubs her arms, eyes still trained on the blood that still streamed from the wound. He looks to her for a moment, a question in his eyes.

“How old are you anyway?”

“Seventeen…” she said. The boy sighs and looks away.

“A shame.” He says under his breath. She looks up to him, letting the water wash away the blood, as she just watched him. He notices her stare and looks to her.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. “Don’t like being here with just me?” The boy's amber eyes flamed, and he rushed forward until their faces where inches apart. Hot amber bored into cold lavender leaving the room thick with tension. She shook her head and looked back to the sink. The boy sighed and walked over to another of the sinks, looking at it the blood on him for a moment he pushed his own arm into the sink and turned on the water.

The other shifted her feet and pulled her arm from the water and watches the blood trickle down her arm. Glancing up, she frowned, and turned back to the sink still full of her blood. At this time another body walked into the room and spotted her. With a strange look he gazed at her arm, his eyes sliding slowly from one to the other, then shrugged and went back out.

“I don’t need to be lecturing you.” The boy said suddenly, looking to her.

“No you don’t…”

“Do you know why?”

The girl shrugged. “Do I need to know?” she asked. The other looked to her, his hands still washing offthe blood.

“Do you want to know?”

She looked up and shrugged. “Will you tell me?” He looks back down at the bloody water.

“I’m seventeen too…” he said and looked back to her. “I’m not old enough to be lecturing you, so go ahead.” He handed her his own pocket knife. The lavender eyes slid from him then to the knife. Reaching out she took it from his grasp and snapped it open. Again she started to make the same symbol on the still red flesh. Looking back to him, she nodded.

He watched for a moment before takingthe bottle ofliquorthat was the companion to his late eggsand tipped it far back, his mouth sucking down a long swig of the drink.

“Go ahead, don’t care anymore.”

She paused at his words. “Why did you care before?”

“I used to have to care ...”

She shrugged and drew an x over the red dot on her shirt. He looked to it for a moment then traced the x on his own cheek.

“….have to care….” She repeated under her breath, her mind becoming hazy. He looked to the girl and nodded.

“Yah, I used to have to care.”

She swayed a little and nodded.

“The past has no meaning…” she said softly as if reading it from a book. The lavender eyes stared transfixed on the blood gleaming from her arm once more. “Caring only gives you scars…” she looks up to him and stands, tracing the scar on his face. He pulled away from her, taking a hold of her wrist and placing it over the x on her chest that now seeped blood.

“You wouldn’t understand if I sat here and told ya.” He says softly, locking his eyes with hers.

“Life is short…” she said just as softly, returning his gaze. She then placed her other hand on his jaw. “Take me…” she whispered and brought her lips to his. Their mouths touched for moments before he pulled away slightly, and looked to her chest.

“What is the x for?” he asked. She looked at her now bloody hand that was still covered by his. She slid her needing eyes to his again.

“X marks the spot…Battousai.” she said softly and pressed the knife into his hand. “Take my innocence, then take my life, Himura Kenshin.” He looked to her for a moment his eyes softening at the last name.

“Is this what you desire?” he asked, softly pressing his hardening self against her. A shiver ran up the girls spin and she nodded.

“Run desire run, sexual being, Run him like a blade, to and through the heart, No conscience, One Motive………” she quoted from his shirt. “Fill my hollow heart.” She whispered into his ear.

“Cater to the hollow…” he said back and pulled her into a lust filled kiss. Minutes past and not a soul graced the lovers with their presence.

“X makes the spot?” questioned Kenshin, when he lay motionless and held the naked body of the breathless girl tight upon him. She nodded and touched the knife they managed to keep in their hands during their lovemaking, over her heart. He nodded grimly and plunged the blade into her; she smiled and closed her eyes suddenly limp in his arms.

Kenshin hugged the woman to his chest and kissed her lifeless lips before placing the blade just blow his ear. Slicing across his life blood he whispered the name of his love on his dieing breath.

“Karou.”

‘Run desire run, sexual being, Run him like a blade, to and through the heart, No conscience, One Motive…cater to the Hollow’

--Fin--

This One-Shot is running the fine line between genius and just plain weird….some days I read it over again and wonder how on earth I had managed to write that and other days I wonder if it’s even worth putting up on any site….oh well.

Its here anyway…genius or weird…so take it or leave it.