Weiss Kreuz Fan Fiction ❯ Luck of the Draw ❯ Prologue

Luck of the Draw - Prologue
~Even if I love you so much that I shatter myself,
Not even a third of it gets across to you.
These innocent emotions run around in circles,
It can't even say I love you...
My heart...~
-"1/3 Pure-hearted Emotions", Rurouni Kenshin



The mission was simple enough; do a bit of background research, then kill some bad guys. The usual, easy kind of mission, no strings attached.

What none of them had counted on was that Mr. Steele, the person they were sent to kill, was *beyond* crazy. Fanatical, even. A crazed whacko, as Yohji deftly put it.

So when heavy steel doors slammed down around them, locking all four of the Weiss group into the small room with the crazy man with the old book, along with the thirty or so bodies of guards they had just killed, they all began to feel just a twinge of anxiety.

"Shit! What the hell's he doing?!" Yohji cursed, jade gaze darting around uncertainly. The lights had blacked out the instant that those doors had fallen, and he didn't enjoy the feeling of blindness one bit.

"It doesn't matter." Came Aya's deeper voice, and the blonde's ears caught the slight sound of metal sliding from it's wooden sheathe. "He will die."

Yeah, like he hadn't heard *that* one before.

"Yeah? Well, I don't think even *you* could accomplish that in the... dark?" his voice trailed off as a strange, unearthly blue light emerged from the ancient text in their target's hands. "... What the hell?" A sudden, bitingly cold wind swept around them, ruffling his hair and sending errant blonde strands to catch on his moistened lips.

"Siberian!" came Omi's distracted cry, and two sets of sharp eyes darted towards the figure brandishing the old book, and the shadowed form lurking behind him. The shadowed form wearing the ugly yellow sweater around its waist.

The shadowed form who's arm was dripping with blood, the crimson drops falling from lax fingertips to splatter upon the ebony floor, all sound of their passage drowned out by the roaring of the wind around the small room.

A maniacal laugh from their target, eyes gleaming with some demonic inner light; thankfully, Omi hadn't given out his fellow assassins' position with his outburst. Ken may well have been their best bet on completing the job effectively and efficiently, as the harsh whipping of air around their bodies kept the other three from moving forward without intense effort.

"Soon the world will bow to me!" a deep, harsh voice, echoing around them all. "I will release the spirits of the Otherworld unto my command," Ken brought his left hand up, bugnuks at the ready and smirk affixed on his confident face, about to strike this maniac down for good, "and so it shall begin!"

A burst, a propelling of wild blue, pulsing energy from the longhaired target, and Ken was thrown back effortlessly, landing some feet away with a brutal jarring up his aching body. His body's instinctive groan of protest was lost even to him in lieu of the rushing in his ears, and his eyes slipped closed as if by their own will.

"Siberian!" Again Omi, note of worry evident in his tone as his hands searched frantically for his crossbow, which had been knocked out of his hands a few moments earlier. It was to no avail, however, for the weapon had skid across the room at that blast of energy, much out of the youth's reach.

"This guy's insane!" Yohji muttered. A glance at the kid showed that he was going to be no help, and Aya's sword was always intended for close-range combat only. It was up to him. He hated when it was up to him.

With one easy flick of the wrist, he let his garroting wire fly, aimed right for their target. The blonde had forgotten, however, of how the wind would affect the flight; only just slightly, but still enough to screw them all over. The wire plunged just short of its destination, scraping across the open page of the tome- and catching on a miniscule tear in it, ripping a small hole in the text.

Yohji could have sworn that the small scrap of paper blinked a strange, deep purple light, before it suddenly burst into black flames- an ominous warning.

"You fools!" that commanding, resounding voice. "You have no idea what you have done! The balance is off! You have destroyed a crucial portion of the spell!" those wild, black eyes were wide in rage and barely suppressed fear. "All is lost..."

The eerie blue light grew brighter, more intense, and their target gasped in pain, collapsing to the ground, the book falling from his lax fingers as his eyes rolled back into his head.

Then, a burst of light so blinding it hurt, and the sensation of falling. Four consecutive, clear sounds, like ringing bells, that faded to the gentle roaring of surf on the beach.

Darkness.

-----

"The Tokaido road is up ahead, and it's a straight path to Tokyo from there," Misao was explaining, eyes alight with some inborn happiness. The five of them had already walked for days since leaving the inn in Hokone, and it had been even longer since Ryuzaburo Higashiyama, the student of Western painting, had presented Kaoru with the finished portrait he had done of her. She hadn't even looked at it since then, just carried it comfortably in her clasped arms, smiling ever so slightly.

"Let's split up there," the braided girl finished, and Kenshin glanced at her with knowing eyes.

"It looks like Misao-dono is getting homesick for Kyoto now de gozaru na," he acknowledged, knowing the girl was probably missing the presence of her grandfather quite a bit. She smiled at him.

"Missie," Sanosuke began, gaze sliding over to the cloth-wrapped package in Kaoru's hands. Everyone else did the same, looking very much interested. "I've been wonderin' about that painting all this time..." he trailed off suggestively, but Kaoru didn't even spare a glance at the tall fighter.

"Don't..." was her simple reply. "I'm looking forward to opening it when we get back to Tokyo."

"Don't be so cheap and show us!" Yahiko demanded vehemently, eyes narrowing in annoyance. The ugly witch could really be stubborn when she wanted to be...

"I want to see it, too!" Misao exclaimed enthusiastically, raising her hand in agreement.

"Oh, all right..." Kaoru agreed at last, tossing her head a bit at everyone's persistence. Her tone was so happy as to almost be sugary-sweet. "Maybe just a peek..."

Handing the precious bundle to Kenshin, she backed off and posed a bit, hands clasped in front of her and smiling brightly. She wanted the others to be able to compare.

Slowly, the redheaded swordsman pulled the cloth away from the painting, revealing the long-awaited scene...

Silence.

Kaoru gave a happy little expectant tittering laugh, blush tinting her cheeks. "He said the title was 'The Smile of a Goddess.' Does it look like me?" she could barely contain her excitement, and her eyes danced.

Dead silence.

"Kaoru-dono..." Kenshin swiftly thrust the painting back into her hands.

"Eh? Done already?" she blinked at him as he began backing up, pained expression on his scarred face.

"Sano, Yahiko, we should hurry on our way," Kenshin announced nervously, turning and running. Sanosuke, Yahiko and Misao were not far behind the redhead, funny little smirks on their faces. They were laughing outright as they retreated.

"What's wrong, guys?" the dark-haired martial artist watched them go, puzzled, still not glancing at the painting. "What's the rush?" she looked down, and her eyes widened, a choked gasp escaping her.

The picture was twisted, a scene of fractured colors and sight that didn't look a thing like her. So *that's* what they had been- "W-W-What is this?!"

"'The Smile of a Goddess?'" Sanosuke was laughingly demanding, glancing at Kenshin, who was trying to keep from laughing, himself, and failing miserably. "That makes me laugh."

"Sano, that's a bit rude to Kaoru-dono de gozaru yo," the redhead admonished, smirking in spite of himself.

"As you say that, Himura, you're laughing as much as you can yourself!" Misao cried out through fits of giggles. "My stomach hurts from laughing!"

Tears were flowing freely from Yahiko's eyes. "In the end, that's just Kaoru's character!"

"You don't have to laugh so much about it!" Kaoru cried, long hair trailing behind her as she raced after them, painting still tightly clutched in her hands. "Wait *up*!"

"Kaoru-dono!" Kenshin yelled over his shoulder, trying to calm down the irritated woman. "Please, listen-" he broke suddenly off then, skidding to a stop in a short instant. His heartbeat sped up and he was instantly serious, eyes darting around cautiously as his hand took its all-too-familiar place, hovering over the hilt of his sword. Seeing his sudden pause, the others stopped as well, instinctively huddling just that much closer to him. Kaoru had virtually forgotten the painting in her hands as she approached the short swordsman.

"Kenshin?" she began tentatively, and he spared a blue-violet glance her way, still on guard.

"There seems to be someone here with us de gozaru yo," he explained simply, thought he couldn't quite figure out where these intruders would be hiding. He could just feel it, a tangible presence at the back of his mind.

And then it spoke.

~What the hell? ... Where am I? What happened? Where's Aya? The others?~

Something clouded and hazy settled over his mind, and, for once in his life, he was powerless to stop this foreign entity. It created some sort of barrier between himself and his body, and suddenly he couldn't control his muscles. He vaguely found himself watching with eyes he couldn't move as his body collapsed to the ground, seeing both Yahiko and Sanosuke do the same out of the corner of his eye.

No...

"Kenshin! Sano! Yahiko! What's wrong!?"

Kaoru-dono...

-----

Nothing. He was floating in a void of nothingness. *They* were.

And then... something. Something warm and alive and somehow familiar, on guard for trouble but not for him.

~What the hell? ... Where am I? What happened? Where's Aya? The others?~

~*Who are...?*~

Something! Something wasn't nothing, right? Something wasn't nothingness. Something was a thing to cling to.

~*No... Kaoru-dono...*~

A name.

He didn't know.

*****

Nozomi