The Rurouni Kenshin Room
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This story is set in my own ALTERNATE REALITY universe which I've called "The Nightwitch Tales" -- think of it as Rurouni Kenshin mixed with various supernatural and paranormal elements. Other stories in this alternate reality are:
"Night Visitor"
"All in the Family"
"Romancing the Wolf"
WARNING: This story is "semi-dark" -- it has dark elements (violence, profanity, etc.) but it's not a darkfic! Actually, there's quite a bit of romance in it.... ^_-
This story takes place after the end of the Kyoto story arc. After that, it takes a sharp left turn into its own world. Elements of the Revenge story arc show up later on in the story. The Kenshingumi already know that Saitoh survived the destruction of Shishio's stronghold.
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Disclaimer: All rights and privileges to Rurouni Kenshin belong to Nobuhiro Watsuki, Shuiesha, Sony Music Entertainment, and associated parties. The characters of these series are used WITHOUT permission for the purpose of entertainment only. This work of fiction is not meant for sale or profit. Original portion of the fiction included here is considered to be the sole property and copyrighted to the author.
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Text Conventions:
( ) are character thoughts
/ / and // // represent various sorts of mental dialogue
* ----- * ----- * marks the start/end of dreams or flashbacks
[ ] denote visual or time notes
Omasu burst into the kitchen with her arms full of groceries.
Her fellow female Oniwabanshuu glared at her and yelled, "Where have you been!? We've got to get all this food ready for the dinner crowd...."
"You'll never believe what someone just told me in the marketplace!"
Okon muttered, "What are you babbling about? Start washing that cabbage!"
"Okay, okay!"
"All right, what's the big news?"
"Ghosts!"
"Wha... ghosts!? Oh, come on!"
"It's true! Last night, apparently dozens of different people saw ghosts walking in the streets of Kyoto!"
"What? That's ridiculous!"
"It's true! And get this! Old Mogumi-san down the street SWORE she saw a procession of Shinsengumi appear out of nowhere and disappear just as suddenly!"
"Shinsengumi!? What the...? The old woman must be going senile!"
Omasu went on breathlessly, "And there were stories about people hearing the sound of clashing swords and screaming outside their houses, but whenever they looked, the streets were empty! And that's not all!"
"There's more?" was Okon's skeptical reply.
Omasu pouted. "Yes, there is. They say that people are still seeing these ghosts, even though it's daytime!"
Her friend glanced out the window at the dark gloomy sky which was filled with roiling black clouds.
"With weather like this, there's not much difference between night and day...."
The door to the kitchen suddenly opened. They all turned and froze when they saw Okina standing in the doorway. For a horrified instant, they thought that the old man had suffered some sort of seizure or stroke. He looked incredibly pale and he was mumbling incoherently.
Omasu ran up to him and said, "What's wrong!?"
"I... I saw him...."
"Who?" asked a bewildered Okon.
"My... my old friend... Ichishino.... I saw him in the garden drinking tea...."
"So!?" both women shouted.
Okina sat down abruptly on the floor and yelled back, "But he's been DEAD for the past 12 years!"
Elsewhere in Kyoto, in an old rickety house that was once an expensive mansion, an old woman cackled madly to herself and mumbled something about time folding back on itself.
Lunch turned out to be a rather subdued affair. Despite the excellent food, it seemed that only Saitoh had much of an appetite. After the meal was cleared away, everyone sat around the table staring at the bundle that contained the black sword. Despite protests from both Misao and Kenshin, Aoshi and Kaoru insisted on joining the discussion.
"Now what?" Misao muttered.
Saitoh calmly drank his tea and said, "Don't look at me. I'm hardly an expert in this area."
Tokio gracefully poured her husband another cup. "Then perhaps you should consult an expert."
They all turned to stare at her. "Do you know of such a person?" said Kenshin.
"I know of a few priests and scholars in Tokyo who have some knowledge of the occult. If they can't help you, then they should be able to direct you to a more knowledgeable person."
"How do you know people like that?" Misao asked in amazement.
Tokio smiled, "I collect old stories and folklore. I've met many different people during my research. Hopefully some of them will be able to help you deal with this sword."
Kenshin quietly began to unwrap the sword. "I think I remember seeing a family crest somewhere on the hilt. That might give us some clues...."
Sano watched him uneasily. "You WILL be careful with that thing, won't you?"
Kenshin smiled quietly. "Believe me, Sano. I'm not eager to do this, but we need to know...."
Suddenly, the room darkened and the temperature plummeted. In an instant, the warm, homely clinic vanished. Everyone found themselves standing in a cold, deserted street.
Misao ran over to Aoshi's side and huddled against him for warmth. "Brrrr! What's going on!?"
Saitoh looked around and muttered, "It's Kyoto."
Sano groaned. "No, not Kyoto again! Why does everything keep going back to Kyoto, of all places!? Kenshin...." When he didn't get a response, he turned and said, "Kenshin?"
The red-haired swordsman was staring at a group of three men walking down the street in their direction. The group consisted of a plump, elderly man and two samurai. One of the samurai was large and massively built while the other was slim and almost painfully young. The large samurai carried a package in one hand while the smaller one carried a lantern. Oblivious to the presence of the others, the three mean idly chatted about the young man's fiancee.
Kaoru heard Kenshin utter a soft gasp.
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appeared behind the three men and said in a cold, detached voice, "Apparently you are Kyoto administrator Jubee Shigekura. Nothing personal, however, I wish to take your lives."
The large samurai dropped his package and went for his sword. "Who're you..."
"Choshu Ishinshishi... Himura Battousai," as a red-haired young man -- a teenager really -- stepped out of the shadows.
Kaoru stared in astonishment. (He's... he's so YOUNG!)
The next few seconds passed in a blur of flashing steel and blood. The young Battousai cut down the old man and the large samurai with a single stroke apiece, then he closed with the smaller samurai. There was a brief exchange of blows as the Battousai's badly outmatched opponent somehow managed to fend off the assassin's blade. A final exchange of slashes... then the young man collapsed, nearly disemboweled by the Battousai's brutally precise sword stroke... but the red-haired assassin had not escaped unscathed.
There were gasps from the stunned observers as they watched blood trickle from a long cut on the Battousai's left cheek. He briefly touched his wound and stared at the blood on his fingers. The Battousai then silently turned and plunged his sword into the back of the young, mortally wounded samurai as he crawled along the ground in a last futile attempt to escape the clutches of death.
The Battousai cast the blood off his sword, sheathed it, and walked away. But the young killer stopped suddenly, then turned to look behind him. Impossible as it might seem, the Battousai was undeniably aware of Kenshin's presence. Cold golden eyes gazed into stunned violet eyes as the two Himuras stared at each other across the bridge of years.
(I know you. You are me. I am you.)
The Battousai finally turned away and disappeared into the murky darkness, leaving the watchers alone in a cold Kyoto street with three dead men.
Kenshin slowly sank to his knees in the blood-covered street as he slowly reached up to touch the cross scar on his face.
"Kiyosato Akira...," he whispered. And with that name there always came another. "Tomoe...."
The scene in front of them wavered like a mirage, then vanished.
&Nbps; They found themselves back in the main room of Dr. Genzai's clinic. Kenshin was still on his knees and still motionless. But this time, the vision... or illusion... or dream... did not vanish without a trace.
Kenshin's hakama were unmistakably stained with fresh blood....
....and still more blood trickled steadily between his fingers from one half of the cross scar on his face... a scar that had not bled for nearly 14 years.
Sometime during the past few moments, people gravitated to others for reassurance. Yahiko hovered anxiously near Kaoru. Misao quietly clung to Aoshi who put a comforting hand on her shoulder, while Megumi leaned against Sano for support.
"Kenshin?" Kaoru whispered.
The red-haired swordsman rose to his feet, still graceful even in his dazed state, and slowly walked outside the clinic. As the blood continued to seep from his scar, Kenshin sank down on the porch and stared vacantly at the yard, its stone walls and modest vegetation seemingly awash in blood from the reddish light of the setting sun.
As the others stared wordlessly after Kenshin, Tokio put her hand on her husband's arm and murmured, "Hajime-san...."
Surprisingly, Saitoh wasn't watching Kenshin. Instead, he was looking up at the spectacular reds and purples of the evening sky. There was a faint tone of bemusement in Saitoh's voice as he absently replied, "Isn't it a trifle forward for a respectable young lady like yourself to be on a first name basis with a man she's only known for a few days?"
There was a long... a very long... silence as everyone - except for Kenshin -- slowly turned to stare at Saitoh.
Tokio's eyes went wide with astonishment, but she managed to answer with an unbelievable amount of composure, given the circumstances.
"Hajime... it's been 15 years since we first met in Kyoto... and we've been married for over EIGHT of them...."