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
He
stood in the shadows, alert amber gaze surveying the empty street before
focusing on the brightly lit neon sign of the building across from him. The Gilded Crane was one of the more…interesting
nightclubs in the area. He rubbed
the bridge of his nose thoughtfully idly wondering why a senior executive of
Yamada Publications would frequent such an establishment. He shrugged with seeming careless abandon
and rested his hand on the hilt of his sheathed long sword. He didn’t care about the details of
Funakoshi Takeo’s life. It was best if
he didn’t know too much about a target’s personal life. It just made it more difficult to focus on
duty.
A
soft breeze played with the edges of his dark cloak, carrying the scent of
vehicles and humanity, blowing red hair across his face as he stared
unblinkingly at the entrance to the nightclub on the opposite side of the
street. He pulled back further in to
the shadows, eyes narrowed suspiciously as the breeze also brought the sound of
a door closing. He tilted his head to
the side in careful consideration before crossing the street swiftly and
peering into the back lane behind The Gilded Crane. A soft curse hissed between his tightly clenched teeth as he saw
his target fleeing in the opposite direction.
Should he pursue? He glanced
around himself, examining the dim corners of the alley, detecting no other
presence. Making his decision, he
sprinted silently after the fleeing man, eyes narrowed in irritation. He had no choice, really. Though his mission had been compromised, his
orders were clear. It was also a matter
of pride, now. He never missed his
target and he wasn’t about to start now.
Closing
the distance easily, he rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, preparing to
draw the blade. As he gained on his
escaping target his golden gaze narrowed, senses reaching out, searching the
night for possible witnesses. With a
burst of speed he was upon Funakoshi Takeo, sword gleaming in the moonlight,
expression cold, deadly. An instant
later he faltered, eyes going wide as he staggered off to the side, expression
stunned.
Quickly ducking
down a side street he leaned against a wall and drew in several gulps of air,
expression pinched, eyes anxious. The
call came again, closer…more frightened.
He closed his eyes, hand clenching on the hilt of his forgotten
sword. Slowly, deliberately he turned
towards the direction from which the panicked entreaties for help came. His eyes snapped open, amber depths filled
with burning rage, glowing faintly in the darkness with an almost feral light,
fangs bared and a low angry hiss escaping from between clenched teeth as he
recognized the telepathic voice.
“Kaoru…” Without further thought, he sprang forward, towards the urgent
cries for help, form blurring with the preternatural speed he called upon, all
pretense of humanity falling away in the blink of an eye.
Though she may
despise him for what he was about to do, along with the inevitable revelation
of his true nature, he would not allow history to repeat itself. Not this time. Never again.
He studied her pale
features framed by ebony locks, his expression sad and full of regret. He raised his hand, intending to brush his
fingers against her smooth skin and flinched when she cringed in fear, dark,
fathomless eyes shut tight in dread. He
allowed his hand to fall to his side again.
He turned away, unable to bear the sight of her rejection any
longer. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be what
you wanted.” He whispered brokenly
before bolting, not trusting himself to leave her be, not trusting that he
wouldn’t reach for her again and beg her to accept him as he was, to not
condemn him for being different.
He ran, escaping the pain of being near
her, yet not able to touch her…of not being worthy of her love. But he couldn’t escape his own
thoughts. They whispered to him, an
insidious hiss of loathing and self-condemnation. She feared him for good reason, his mind sighed sorrowfully. He trembled, covering his ears to block out
the hateful words his conscience conjured.
But thoughts couldn’t be silenced.
Finally he fell to his knees, breath
coming in harsh gasps. He bent double,
his eyes closed tightly against the stillness of the night, arms covering his
head protectively as he rocked slowly, a low moan escaping him. “Why?
Why can’t I die? Why must I
endure years alone without end?”
“Because you are accursed. Just as I am.” He looked up slowly at the coldly spoken words. “Get up.
You’re pathetic.”
“Go away.” He whispered it softly, dangerously, amber eyes glinting in the
dim light of the full moon.
“You grovel in the dirt for what? A woman? A human woman? Please.
Don’t make me laugh.”
He lowered his head, some of the defiant
fight going out of him at the reminder of the beautiful young woman he’d just
left behind. “Please…just leave me
alone.” He closed his eyes again,
hoping against hope that his plea would be heeded, ignoring his own instinctual
response to the other man that bordered on barely restrained violence.
“Why not just take her and be done with
it? It would save you this pathetic
display of cowardice.”
He surged to his feet, hands clenched in
fury and fangs bared, a low angry hiss escaping. “For you, such disgraceful behaviour may be common place. For me, it is abomination. Never suggest such a thing to me
again.”
A low chuckle rumbled in the other man’s
chest. “So you still have some spirit
left after all. Excellent. You are irrational, Battousai, because you
haven’t fed enough. Come. Let us feed together. I have long dreamed of hunting at your
side.”
He allowed his revulsion to show. “I will not feed with you by my side. You enjoy the bitter flavor of fear to spice
the blood you drink.”
“And what is it that you prefer, Ancient
One?”
“Mutual enjoyment of the
experience.” He snapped furiously. “It adds a certain flavor that is
unmatched. Of course, if you prefer to
rot your fangs with fear-tainted adrenaline, be my guest. Just don’t do it around me.” He turned his back and strode away, intent
on leaving the fool behind when a familiar scent drifted to him. He paused, turning his head slightly,
inhaling the sweet and exotic scent of white plum. Through the darkness his keen eyesight picked out a familiar
figure.
Too late he realized the other man had noticed her as well.
“Stop!”
His command froze the other vampire in place as he reached the young
woman’s side. He approached with quick
even strides. “You will not touch her,
Jine. I will not allow it.”
“Not allow?” The other man laughed.
“Am I supposed to be intimidated by a runt with dulled fangs? You amuse me, Battousai.”
“And you irritate me. I will not say this again. Leave her.
Now.”
Jine laughed again and grabbed her,
ignoring her feeble struggles as he pulled her flush against his body. “Do you feel lust, Battousai?” He grinned madly at the glowering elder
vampire. “Why don’t you join me rather
than fight, hmm?” He released the girl
again, enjoying her soft, terrified whimper and he caressed one slender and
smooth arm suggestively before cupping her pale cheek and bending close,
inhaling her fresh, clean scent, eyes never leaving his rival’s face, watching
every nuance in his expression.
He smiled in response, a nasty, cruel curving
of his lips, and the tips of his razor-sharp fangs glinting in the bright
moonlight. The taller man released her
to keep his eyes on his enemy. “I don’t
think so, Jine.” He moved slowly,
circling the taller vampire. Slowly,
carefully, he drew ever nearer to the terrified woman, until he was between her
and Jine. He bared his fangs in a
snarl, his challenge unmistakable.
Again
Jine threw caution to the four winds and laughed. “Yes! Get angry,
Battousai. Get enraged. I want to see the power of the legendary
ancient!”
“Power?” He repeated scornfully.
“Don’t make me laugh. All you
want is a quick death. I can accommodate
you in this.”
The smile faded from the other man’s
face. “You don’t kill. Everyone knows this. Everyone knows that you’ve lost your edge,
Battousai.”
“Lost my edge? Not likely. I don’t kill
indiscriminately, Jine. That much is
true. However…” He shifted his stance,
preparing to attack. His voice changed,
becoming more of a low, dangerous growl, terrifying in its cold tones. “That says nothing for impudent toddlers
foolish enough to challenge me.” With
that said, he sprang forward in attack.
Truthfully, he didn’t want to kill the other, younger, vampire, but he
felt he had no choice. The stench of
death clung to the other man, reeking of corruption and insanity. It was almost merciful to end his
existence. And, most importantly, he
couldn’t allow Jine to have his way with the woman. Though she turned from him in disgust upon discovering the truth
of his nature, he would protect Yukishiro Tomoe at all costs. He could do no less for the one person who,
throughout the ages of his existence, had succeeded in reminding him of his
nearly forgotten humanity while capturing his heart.
Drawing his sword he struck, intending
to end Jine’s existence swiftly. Jine,
anticipating the movement, dodged, barely escaping the razor sharp blade and
desperately kicked at the older vampire’s undefended knee, missing and
staggering as he was over balanced by his awkward attack. For the first time, he was beginning to
regret his rash decision to challenge the elder vampire known amongst their
circles as Battousai. It was painfully
obvious who was the better fighter, the more experienced at combat. With a snarl, Jine turned to the woman and
lunged for her, seeing his death in the narrowed amber gaze of his enemy,
determined to take another with him out of spite.
Seeing Jine’s intention too late, he
cried out a warning, moving to place himself before her defensively, striking
out at the taller man, feeling his blade penetrate his body, smelling the tangy
scent of blood…hearing the soft cry of pain and surprise behind him…
As Jine staggered back, staring down at
the stain of red rapidly spreading across his chest, coughing and choking on
his blood, he grinned triumphantly as his enemy spun, a look of horror
replacing his earlier mask of cold efficiency.
He laughed and choked again. “I
win…” He gurgled as he fell heavily to the ground.
“Tomoe!” He dropped his bloodstained sword to the ground with a clatter
and caught her falling body as it slid to the cold, hard ground. He cradled her limp form against his chest,
grief welling up inside of him as he listened to her last labored breath rattle
in her throat. Closing his eyes against
the night, he threw back his head, a low keening wail escaping into the
darkness, the sound eerily resembling that of a wounded animal.
Dragging himself back into the present
once again, he swore that he’d protect the young woman calling frantically for
help. He wouldn’t lose her as he’d lost
Tomoe…he couldn’t.
**To Be Continued…**
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