Sailor Moon Fan Fiction ❯ Hearts of Swords ❯ Prologue - Rain ( Prologue )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: sherazard 
"Not everyone gets a happy ending."
Enter the "Age of Wars" of Feudal Japan and follow the story of a tragic story's beginning...
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Samurai / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.23.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 1.5K | Status: Work In Progress
"Not everyone gets a happy ending."
Enter the "Age of Wars" of Feudal Japan and follow the story of a tragic story's beginning...
Anime/Manga: Sailor Moon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Samurai / Action | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 11.23.2002 | Pages: 3 | Words: 1.8K | Visits: 1.5K | Status: Work In Progress
* * * P R E F A C E * * *
The Sengoku Period (1476 - 1576 AD) was also called the "Age of Wars". It is a
gradual shift from the Muromachi Period (early 1300's) when they began to rule
rule militaristically. Before the Muromachi Period, the capital city had been
in Kamakura in Kanto, (the present day Kanagawa prefecture) but when the Hojo
clan fell, the capital was shifted back to Kyoto. At this point in history, the
ruler, or Shogun, in power was the Ashikaga clan. Takauji Ashikaga had defeated
the Kamakura shogun, whose defenses had been weakened by the Mongol invasions
in 1274 and 1281. Takauji Ashikaga was appointed as Shogun in 1338.
However, by the 1500s, the Ashikaga shoguns had lost control of the country and
clans began to fight each other for supremacy and to gain control of Japan.
Civil conflict was heavy and blood ran red in the streets. Even civilians were
not safe, and this is when the story begins.
---------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------
H E A R T S O F S W O R D S
---------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
"Not everyone gets a happy ending."
Prologue - Rain
[Sengoku Period, 1505]
Metal clashed with metal and then cleanly sliced through flesh, splattering its
life-blood around them. He ran on, the screams of helpless villagers and the
dying screams of innocent people roared in his ears, and then he saw his next
target. People who attacked and slaughtered the innocent did not deserve to
walk on the land and should have been eradicated from existence.
Screaming a battle-cry, he swung his katana in a rising slash, splitting his
victim down the length of his body. It rained blood once again as his blade cut
great swathes through the numbers of the Shogunate, and he knew that they were
the enemy. There was nothing more to it. He was a man of the sword; lived and
died by the ways of the sword.
His thoughts dwindled into nothingness as he spun, his hakama fanning out as he
used the momentum of his spin to butcher the oncoming man through the waist,
and his enemy's dying scream did not reach him. The top half of the body fell
to the ground with a wet 'thump'. He was gone before the bottom half fell to
its counterpart's same fate.
Adrenaline sang in his veins as he immersed himself in the battle, knowing that
the edge of his katana would be the judge, jury and executioner of his enemies.
It was this sword he held in his hand that would be God in this conflict. His
allies ran alongside him, their hardened countenance terrible to behold. It
would continue to rain tonight.
The heavens rumbled and roared in fury and streaks of jagged lightning flashed
in the sky as the battle raged on. The rain fell around them heavily, and the
water splashed underneath their feet as metal sang with metal and mortal flesh.
He was beyond them all; and the sounds were muffled and distant, as if they
were mere echoes of a battle far away.
Their clan's insignia burned on his gi, the colors of prussian blue, pale blue
and crimson red surrounding the image of a wolf. It was the insignia of his
clan, the Ishida clan.
Gripping the hilt of his sword, he rammed the point of his sword into his enemy
before him. The enemy was facing his back to him; he violently ripped the blade
out of the body just as his lifeless corpse sagged to the ground. By the blood
that was dripping from his blade, he knew that he had fully impaled the man on
the blade.
Such was the life of a swordsman. Peace was only an illusion that was created
to reassure the civilians that this bloody war would end with a victorious clan
that would rule Japan. It was highly unlikely that peace would come soon, for
the wars were becoming increasingly violent as the years passed him.
More thoughts swirled endlessly in his mind as he continued to slash and stab
his path to a future that he knew that he would not be alive to see. His young
companions would see a bright future. However, he knew that there would be many
sacrifices and doubts on the path to a brave, new future.
As he ran through the slick mud, engaging in battles upon his route, there was
only one thought that was on his mind.
'How much longer?'
* * * * *
He sat stock still, the katana safely sheathed in scabbard. Upon reaching this
village, he knew that some of his men were injured and upon returning to their
lord's land, they would be properly taken care of.
"Have you had a good trip, Machisu-san?" the woman queried.
Snapped out of his thoughts, he focused his gaze upon the woman and nodded, and
that was all the woman required. Although he could have answered her in better
terms, he knew that it would be useless and a waste of time. His men were
injured and they needed medical care.
The villagers were milling around while the men of his clan who were still able
to move around were patrolling the area. His lord was respected and powerful,
and any signs of enemy would mean that they would be thrust into the heat of a
battle once more.
Sighing, he stood up and left the doctor's hut. He could hear the woman that
had tended to him protest, but he ignored her. He hated sitting idle, and as
the leader of his men, he would patrol the surrounding area and villages for
signs of trouble.
"Machisu-san! The Fukushima clan is attacking!" a man shouted.
Spinning on his heel, he ran towards the sentinel and the villagers began to
scream as the attackers unsheathed their katanas and began to strike down the
people around them. Forgetting about his wound, he swiftly brought out his own
katana and swung at his opponent.
Even at home, they were denied a small bit of harmony. Able-bodied villagers
grabbed their tools and began their own small attack against the Fukushima clan
samurais. However, what he didn't suspect was another wave of samurais behind
the first wave. Immediately, he knew that this would be a difficult battle. The
Fukushima's Red Tigers were one of the most ruthless group of samurais. He had
to make sure that the villagers were relatively safe before they could begin a
full assault.
Around him, his own comrades were drawing their katanas and slowly edging out
of the town so that the death count of innocents would remain a minimum. But,
no matter how much he tried, they would not budge from their position.
"Men! Create a bottle-neck bulge here!" he ordered.
Over the loud noise of the 'clang' noises of metal meeting metal, his men went
into the position that they had practiced so long ago, and the same manouever
that had earned them fame across the land.
However, he had never counted on seeing his village burn to the ground three
hours later.
* * * * *
Stunned and horrified, he walked through the remains of the village. He was the
only survivor of the attack. His dark gaze fell upon the charred remains of his
men and of his home.
A low growl escaped his throat as he realized that in the span of three hours,
he had lost everything that he held dear in his heart. His men, his home, and
most importantly, his pride.
As he stumbled through the ruins of the village in a stupor, he let his gaze
sweep over all that was gone. Gone. Twenty six years of his life, gone. Twenty
six years of his life was burnt and charred, destroyed beyond repair.
Just as he passed another building, he heard a rustling sound. Spinning sharply
on his heel, and pulled out his katana from its scabbard. He began to carefully
approach the building, in case an enemy swordsman was hiding behind the walls.
Inhaling deeply, he stepped into the building, ever alert and holding the sword
in a loose, yet steady grip.
What he saw was not what he expected to see.
A little child was kneeling next to a corpse, undoubtedly a man. Tears streamed
down her chubby, dirt-streaked cheeks as she shook the dead man's arm. A lump
formed in his throat as he heard the little girl's voice whimper, "'touchan?"
She had hair the color of the noonday sun, and with eyes the color of the
deepest ocean. She would turn out to be a beautiful girl when she grew up. It
broke his heart to see such a little girl losing her parents so suddenly and
gruesomely.
"What happened here, little one?" he asked softly.
He had long ago sheathed his katana and the girl whimpered in fear as she leapt
away from him. Approaching her cautiously, he held out his hand.
"'touchan won't wake up..." she murmured piteously.
With a gentleness he hadn't know he still retained, he pulled the small child
into his arms, who began to cry into his broad shoulder. He could feel the
tears of the small child through the material of his gi, and he closed his eyes
in remembrance of his own experience.
As if on cue, the heavens rumbled and rain began to fall around the ruined,
smoking remains of the village. He set her down gently on the ground. "Come
along child. I'll take you with me."
"What's your name, little one?"
She sniffled and she peered at him with watery eyes, and uttered, "Tsukino
Usagi."
Looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, she nodded and grabbed his fingers
in her little hands. He smiled tenderly as he began to walk away from the
village.
Usagi failed to notice the blood that stained his hands.
-------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------
E N D P R O L O G U E
--------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------
Author's Notes:
This is only a beginning to a story that has been rolling around in my head for
a long time. After reading many Rurouni Kenshin fanfics, I decided that I
wanted to write something that would correspond to that timeline and depict a
shoujo-ai relationship and what could have happened if two girls did fall in
love during those times.
Shounen-ai relationships were not condoned during these times, since it was a
sign of comradeship and a close bond with a fellow samurai. I will try my best
to get the historical facts as accurate as possible, but I cannot guarantee
anything.
I will refrain from mixing Japanese speech with English, since it looks awkward
and it might be a bit annoying for readers to continually have to scroll down
to find the translation. Therefore, I will use Japanese sparingly to make the
story comprehensible for all readers.
[E-mail: sherazard_@hotmail.com]
[Website: http://ashura.br0ken.org (HIATUS)]
[Weblog: http://ashura.blogspot.com]
1st draft: Completed. (06.15.2002)
Resources:
http://home.austin.rr.c om/scajapan/HISTORY.HTM
http://victorian.fortunecity.com/duchamp/410/sh ogun.html
http://home.earthlink.net/~steinrl/glossary.htm
The Sengoku Period (1476 - 1576 AD) was also called the "Age of Wars". It is a
gradual shift from the Muromachi Period (early 1300's) when they began to rule
rule militaristically. Before the Muromachi Period, the capital city had been
in Kamakura in Kanto, (the present day Kanagawa prefecture) but when the Hojo
clan fell, the capital was shifted back to Kyoto. At this point in history, the
ruler, or Shogun, in power was the Ashikaga clan. Takauji Ashikaga had defeated
the Kamakura shogun, whose defenses had been weakened by the Mongol invasions
in 1274 and 1281. Takauji Ashikaga was appointed as Shogun in 1338.
However, by the 1500s, the Ashikaga shoguns had lost control of the country and
clans began to fight each other for supremacy and to gain control of Japan.
Civil conflict was heavy and blood ran red in the streets. Even civilians were
not safe, and this is when the story begins.
---------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------
H E A R T S O F S W O R D S
---------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
"Not everyone gets a happy ending."
Prologue - Rain
[Sengoku Period, 1505]
Metal clashed with metal and then cleanly sliced through flesh, splattering its
life-blood around them. He ran on, the screams of helpless villagers and the
dying screams of innocent people roared in his ears, and then he saw his next
target. People who attacked and slaughtered the innocent did not deserve to
walk on the land and should have been eradicated from existence.
Screaming a battle-cry, he swung his katana in a rising slash, splitting his
victim down the length of his body. It rained blood once again as his blade cut
great swathes through the numbers of the Shogunate, and he knew that they were
the enemy. There was nothing more to it. He was a man of the sword; lived and
died by the ways of the sword.
His thoughts dwindled into nothingness as he spun, his hakama fanning out as he
used the momentum of his spin to butcher the oncoming man through the waist,
and his enemy's dying scream did not reach him. The top half of the body fell
to the ground with a wet 'thump'. He was gone before the bottom half fell to
its counterpart's same fate.
Adrenaline sang in his veins as he immersed himself in the battle, knowing that
the edge of his katana would be the judge, jury and executioner of his enemies.
It was this sword he held in his hand that would be God in this conflict. His
allies ran alongside him, their hardened countenance terrible to behold. It
would continue to rain tonight.
The heavens rumbled and roared in fury and streaks of jagged lightning flashed
in the sky as the battle raged on. The rain fell around them heavily, and the
water splashed underneath their feet as metal sang with metal and mortal flesh.
He was beyond them all; and the sounds were muffled and distant, as if they
were mere echoes of a battle far away.
Their clan's insignia burned on his gi, the colors of prussian blue, pale blue
and crimson red surrounding the image of a wolf. It was the insignia of his
clan, the Ishida clan.
Gripping the hilt of his sword, he rammed the point of his sword into his enemy
before him. The enemy was facing his back to him; he violently ripped the blade
out of the body just as his lifeless corpse sagged to the ground. By the blood
that was dripping from his blade, he knew that he had fully impaled the man on
the blade.
Such was the life of a swordsman. Peace was only an illusion that was created
to reassure the civilians that this bloody war would end with a victorious clan
that would rule Japan. It was highly unlikely that peace would come soon, for
the wars were becoming increasingly violent as the years passed him.
More thoughts swirled endlessly in his mind as he continued to slash and stab
his path to a future that he knew that he would not be alive to see. His young
companions would see a bright future. However, he knew that there would be many
sacrifices and doubts on the path to a brave, new future.
As he ran through the slick mud, engaging in battles upon his route, there was
only one thought that was on his mind.
'How much longer?'
* * * * *
He sat stock still, the katana safely sheathed in scabbard. Upon reaching this
village, he knew that some of his men were injured and upon returning to their
lord's land, they would be properly taken care of.
"Have you had a good trip, Machisu-san?" the woman queried.
Snapped out of his thoughts, he focused his gaze upon the woman and nodded, and
that was all the woman required. Although he could have answered her in better
terms, he knew that it would be useless and a waste of time. His men were
injured and they needed medical care.
The villagers were milling around while the men of his clan who were still able
to move around were patrolling the area. His lord was respected and powerful,
and any signs of enemy would mean that they would be thrust into the heat of a
battle once more.
Sighing, he stood up and left the doctor's hut. He could hear the woman that
had tended to him protest, but he ignored her. He hated sitting idle, and as
the leader of his men, he would patrol the surrounding area and villages for
signs of trouble.
"Machisu-san! The Fukushima clan is attacking!" a man shouted.
Spinning on his heel, he ran towards the sentinel and the villagers began to
scream as the attackers unsheathed their katanas and began to strike down the
people around them. Forgetting about his wound, he swiftly brought out his own
katana and swung at his opponent.
Even at home, they were denied a small bit of harmony. Able-bodied villagers
grabbed their tools and began their own small attack against the Fukushima clan
samurais. However, what he didn't suspect was another wave of samurais behind
the first wave. Immediately, he knew that this would be a difficult battle. The
Fukushima's Red Tigers were one of the most ruthless group of samurais. He had
to make sure that the villagers were relatively safe before they could begin a
full assault.
Around him, his own comrades were drawing their katanas and slowly edging out
of the town so that the death count of innocents would remain a minimum. But,
no matter how much he tried, they would not budge from their position.
"Men! Create a bottle-neck bulge here!" he ordered.
Over the loud noise of the 'clang' noises of metal meeting metal, his men went
into the position that they had practiced so long ago, and the same manouever
that had earned them fame across the land.
However, he had never counted on seeing his village burn to the ground three
hours later.
* * * * *
Stunned and horrified, he walked through the remains of the village. He was the
only survivor of the attack. His dark gaze fell upon the charred remains of his
men and of his home.
A low growl escaped his throat as he realized that in the span of three hours,
he had lost everything that he held dear in his heart. His men, his home, and
most importantly, his pride.
As he stumbled through the ruins of the village in a stupor, he let his gaze
sweep over all that was gone. Gone. Twenty six years of his life, gone. Twenty
six years of his life was burnt and charred, destroyed beyond repair.
Just as he passed another building, he heard a rustling sound. Spinning sharply
on his heel, and pulled out his katana from its scabbard. He began to carefully
approach the building, in case an enemy swordsman was hiding behind the walls.
Inhaling deeply, he stepped into the building, ever alert and holding the sword
in a loose, yet steady grip.
What he saw was not what he expected to see.
A little child was kneeling next to a corpse, undoubtedly a man. Tears streamed
down her chubby, dirt-streaked cheeks as she shook the dead man's arm. A lump
formed in his throat as he heard the little girl's voice whimper, "'touchan?"
She had hair the color of the noonday sun, and with eyes the color of the
deepest ocean. She would turn out to be a beautiful girl when she grew up. It
broke his heart to see such a little girl losing her parents so suddenly and
gruesomely.
"What happened here, little one?" he asked softly.
He had long ago sheathed his katana and the girl whimpered in fear as she leapt
away from him. Approaching her cautiously, he held out his hand.
"'touchan won't wake up..." she murmured piteously.
With a gentleness he hadn't know he still retained, he pulled the small child
into his arms, who began to cry into his broad shoulder. He could feel the
tears of the small child through the material of his gi, and he closed his eyes
in remembrance of his own experience.
As if on cue, the heavens rumbled and rain began to fall around the ruined,
smoking remains of the village. He set her down gently on the ground. "Come
along child. I'll take you with me."
"What's your name, little one?"
She sniffled and she peered at him with watery eyes, and uttered, "Tsukino
Usagi."
Looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes, she nodded and grabbed his fingers
in her little hands. He smiled tenderly as he began to walk away from the
village.
Usagi failed to notice the blood that stained his hands.
-------------------------------------------- -----------------------------------
E N D P R O L O G U E
--------------------------------------------------------------------- ----------
Author's Notes:
This is only a beginning to a story that has been rolling around in my head for
a long time. After reading many Rurouni Kenshin fanfics, I decided that I
wanted to write something that would correspond to that timeline and depict a
shoujo-ai relationship and what could have happened if two girls did fall in
love during those times.
Shounen-ai relationships were not condoned during these times, since it was a
sign of comradeship and a close bond with a fellow samurai. I will try my best
to get the historical facts as accurate as possible, but I cannot guarantee
anything.
I will refrain from mixing Japanese speech with English, since it looks awkward
and it might be a bit annoying for readers to continually have to scroll down
to find the translation. Therefore, I will use Japanese sparingly to make the
story comprehensible for all readers.
[E-mail: sherazard_@hotmail.com]
[Website: http://ashura.br0ken.org (HIATUS)]
[Weblog: http://ashura.blogspot.com]
1st draft: Completed. (06.15.2002)
Resources:
http://home.austin.rr.c om/scajapan/HISTORY.HTM
http://victorian.fortunecity.com/duchamp/410/sh ogun.html
http://home.earthlink.net/~steinrl/glossary.htm