It's modern day.  The streets are rife with violence; corporations are corrupt; assassinations, commonplace.  Himura Kenshin, known only as Battousai, is a shadow assassin for an organization so secret even he doesn't know who truly runs it.  BUT Battousai has an even bigger secret; one that if it were ever discovered would mean more than his death...it would end in the total annihilation of his soul.  Battousai is not only the deadliest assassin to ever prowl the dark streets of night...he is also a vampire, one of the oldest still in existence…and a rarity among his kind.

 

He has a soul.

 

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Rurouni Kenshin & Samurai X Original Japanese Version ©N. Watsuki/Shueisha * Fuji-TV * SME Visual Works Inc. * Sony Pictures Entertainment

 

All Fanfics created by Chiruken (me) were written for the sole purpose of shared entertainment and not intended for publication or sale.

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Tears of Eternity

by:  Chiruken

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

 

        He felt…unclean.  He always did after completing his assignments.  All the water in the world could never wash away the blood.  He could wash his body…as he’d just done in one of the multitude of safe houses set up around the city exclusively for that purpose…scrubbing until his skin felt raw, clean the filth from his clothing, but his conscience was permanently stained.

 

        His lips twisted bitterly in a parody of a smile.  His ‘conscience’, he thought harshly, chest constricting with the ancient hurt bewilderment.  One such as he should be incapable of such basic emotions inspired by a conscience.  Guilt should be as foreign to him as the sky was to fish.  To the best of his knowledge, none of the others of his kind were afflicted as he was.  No…he was special…cursed with being unique.  It set him apart from the others.  To have a conscience, one must first have a soul.

 

        He shook his head sharply, angered by his dark thoughts.  His mind had been traveling the same road of self-condemnation for centuries.  It never changed anything and was, he’d discovered, an exercise in futility.  It was pointless to feel guilt.  His very survival depended upon that very same substance which so disgusted him.

 

        He sighed, his momentary anger evaporating as quickly as it manifested, and crossed the unlit parking lot, the faded red brick apartment building looming dark and unwelcoming.  A small square of light cast from a first floor apartment feebly illuminated a narrow patch of cold concrete.  He blinked in surprise, steps faltering as he felt an odd but familiar ‘tickle’ in his mind signaling a rudimentary form of undisciplined telepathy.  He looked up, startled, and found himself staring into the uncurtained window of the lit first floor apartment.  Time ceased to flow as the distance vanished and he found himself gazing into oceanic sapphire eyes set in a delicately featured face framed by strands of dark hair held back in a high pony-tail by a ribbon matching the exquisite eyes.  She leaned forward into the window, returning his unwavering perusal with one of her own.  There was a moment of startling clarity in which he felt drawn to the unknown young woman gazing down at him with such intensity it stole his breath away.  In that instant he felt an overriding need to know her…to possess her.

 

        With a quick indrawn breath he tore his gaze from hers and all but ran the rest of the way across the tenebrous parking lot to the relative safety of the entrance illuminated by the flickering light of a fluorescent bulb above the door.  He shivered and reached for the knob, shaken by his frightening fixation on a stranger as fleeting as it had been.  Stepping through the door into the dimly lit stairwell, he swallowed nervously, acknowledging that it hadn’t bee as short-lived as he wished it to be.  He shook his head sharply in an attempt to drive the uncharacteristic thoughts from his mind and hastily moved through the heavy fire door into the narrow hall of the first floor.

 

        He hurried down the hall, steps silent on the threadbare and stained rug as he made his way towards the privacy of his apartment.  He ignored the multitude of odors assailing his senses, not all of which were pleasant, as he passed the battered and scarred doors with faded paint lining the hall, intent on avoiding his neighbours.

 

        His steps, brisk and silent, faltered as he passed the third door on the left side of the hall, amber gaze swiveling to take in the number.  One eleven…He shook himself and put on a burst of speed.  SHE was behind that door.  The young woman with the mesmerizing sapphire eyes lived in that apartment…he could feel it.  He slammed the door to his own apartment closed with a bang.  He leaned back against it and closed his eyes, hands clenching into fists at his sides.  He drew in several deep breaths in an effort to reestablish his customary cold detachment.  With a growl of frustration he thumped his fist against the solid, scarred wood at his back and pushed away from the door to stalk across the cramped apartment, carefully picking his way through the darkness, golden eyes flashing in irritation at his inability to calm his uncharacteristic agitation.

 

        Suddenly feeling the weight of his activities from earlier that evening, he spun on his heel and headed for the tiny bathroom, stripping the clothes from his body as he went, leaving them to lie where they fell, mind fixed on one thought…wash the stench of blood and death from his body.  He stepped into the shower, nearly falling in his haste, and cranked the taps on full blast, pulling the stopper simultaneously.  He gritted his teeth as the cold water hit his body like thousands of stinging needles.  Bracing his hands against the wall, he bowed his head, closing his eyes tight, and allowed the cold water to wash over him, trying to envision the stains on his soul being washed down the drain.

 

        Ten minutes later, he heaved a weary sigh and closed off the taps.  Lifting his arms slowly, he wrung the excess water from his hair and reached for a towel, briskly drying himself.  His head snapped up, amber gaze alert, as a soft knock sounded on his door.  He dropped the towel and grabbed a clean pair of jeans, swiftly stepping into them before gathering his discarded clothes scattered on the floor and tossing them into the plastic lined laundry hamper concealed behind the door in the bathroom.  Satisfied that his apartment was returned to its usual level of tidiness, he approached the door with a puzzled frown.  He could think of few who would willingly seek out his company for amicable reasons, yet he could sense no hostility from the other side of the door.  He paused in the act of reaching for the knob when his keen hearing picked up a soft, unfamiliar voice whispering on the other side.  “Oh God, what am I doing?”

 

        His curiosity piqued, he opened the door and froze, momentarily stunned speechless.  It was HER.  The young woman from apartment one eleven…the young woman with the captivating blue eyes.  God, he thought reverently, she’s even more beautiful up close.  He recovered from his surprise quickly.  “Yes?”  He asked in a polite, neutral tone.

 

        “Ah…” She stared at him with wide anxious eyes and licked her lips in a gesture of nervousness, drawing his attention there.  His amber gaze snapped back to her blue one and he waited patiently for her to continue, silently berating himself for allowing himself to be distracted.  As the seconds ticked by and she remained silent he quirked an inquiring eyebrow.  Finally she held up a glass measuring cup and cleared her throat.  “Can I borrow some sugar?”  The words emerged in a breathless rush, her hands, wrapped around the cup, trembling.

 

        His lips quirked up in amusement, amber gaze warm and appreciative.  This was a first for him.  He’d never been subjected to the neighbour needs sugar routine before.  He held his hand out, watching in fascination as a flush crept into her face, and waited for her to relinquish the measuring cup that she was clutching tight enough her knuckles were turning white.  “One cup?”  She nodded, but didn’t surrender the cup.  He waited a moment longer, his amusement growing.  “Um…miss…I need the cup.”  He gently reminded her.

 

        Her blush deepened as she handed the cup over.  “Kaoru.”  He tilted his head to the side curiously, waiting for her to elaborate.  “My name…it’s Kaoru.”  She gestured down the hall.  “One eleven.”

 

        He quickly cleared his throat to cover his amused chuckle and stepped to the side, gesturing for his tongue-tied neighbour to enter.  “Kenshin.  It’s a pleasure.”

 

**To Be Continued…**

 

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