Rurouni Kenshin Fanfic
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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Moonlight glinting momentarily off of a
reflective surface about six inches above the wooden plank caught his
attention. “Saito…” The other man
either didn’t hear or chose to ignore him.
“Saito, stop! It’s a trap!” He moved fast, throwing his weight forward,
his smaller, compact form slamming into the Shinsengumi captain just as a loud
report filled the night, throwing him off balance against the rail and over.
Saito fell with a muffled curse and a
resounding splash. Resurfacing swiftly
he looked around for the hitokiri and saw him still on the bridge braced
against the rail. It was then that the
sound he’d heard as the smaller man pushed him registered. “Gunfire…” Swiftly swimming to shore, he
made his way up the steep bank with much cursing under his breath until finally
he was able to reach the top, where he promptly flattened his large frame
against the ground and watched the scene unfold. In the time it had taken him to get out of the water it appeared
that Battousai had managed to get himself captured. With a smirk of grim amusement Saito stood abruptly, drawing his
katana swiftly. He approached quickly
and silently, taking care to stay as close to the shadows as possible.
“There were two. Where’s the other one?”
“I don’t know. The little one pushed his friend over the rail.” Saito chuckled inwardly. I imagine Battousai is appreciating being
referred to as the ‘little one’…almost as much as I’m enjoying being referred
to as his friend.
Saito halted and watched as the hitokiri
began to move, struggling against the larger men’s grip. He winced when he realized that once he was
immobilized, Hitokiri Battousai was mortal just like the rest of them. Though he held no true liking for the
younger man, he did owe him a debt of honour.
He looked closer, the moonlight illuminating the scene with bright silvery
light. Amber eyes narrowing, Saito
scowled as he finally got a decent view of the hitokiri. Bastard…why did he have to go and do
something stupid like that?
Battousai winced as he was pulled
roughly to his feet, his wounded side protesting stridently as his daisho was
removed from his reach. It didn’t take
long for him to recognize the stench of death and blood clinging to the men
surrounding him. Glaring at those closest
to him with glittering amber eyes, he bared his teeth in a snarl of hatred and
rage. A moment later he fell to his
knees, eyes closed tight, teeth clenched against the rising waves of agony as
he was kicked in the side. He could
feel the warm stickiness of fresh blood flowing from the wound. Breath coming in shallow pants, he waited
for the wave of nausea to pass before attempting to raise his head again. Looking up slowly he met the eyes of what he
assumed to be the leader. Slowly,
ignoring the pain and the certainty that he would be knocked down again, he
stood. Raising his head to stare
directly at the bandit leader, amber eyes flashing with defiance, Battousai
drew in a quick breath, preparing himself for whatever would come next. “You murdered a child. For this, I bring tenchu to you. Prepare yourselves.”
Saito swore under his breath and raised
his katana into position for the Gatoutsu.
“Ahou.” He couldn’t believe
anyone would be stupid enough to issue such a blatant challenge when he was
both injured and weaponless. Without
waiting for their stunned reactions to be replaced by deadly humor, he
attacked, taking down two bandits before the others had the presence of mind to
react.
Using the distraction of Saito’s
Gatoutsu, Battousai lunged for his own katana.
He’d just reached for the sheathed weapon when he felt a sharp agonizing
blow to his injured side. Breath
emerging on a pained hiss, he rolled with the blow, taking the saya with
him. Stupid, stupid, stupid! It was a mantra in his mind. He caught a brief glimpse of Saito off to
the side as he continued to roll, the bandit following swinging a large
staff. A moment later he amended that
assessment to large spear when the blade grazed his hip, biting into the
flesh and drawing more blood. He knew
that if he continued to lose blood like this it would weaken him and leave him
open to all attacks. That was
unacceptable to him. Shifting his grip
on the saya, he reached up and grasped the hilt of the katana. Using the momentum of his roll he twisted
and managed to gain his feet, swiftly drawing the katana in one fluid move and
swore softly under his breath. His loss
of blood had already slowed his battousjutsu to a fraction of its normal speed.
“Is that the best you can do, boy?” Hefting the spear with practiced ease, the
bandit stepped forward with a condescending smirk. “Do you even know how to use that katana, or are you merely play
acting?”
Lips curving upwards into a smirk,
Battousai slid the blade into the saya with a quick flick of his wrist. “I’m going to enjoy making you bleed.” Licking his lips in anticipation, the
hitokiri shifted his stance, ignoring the piercing agony of the wound in his
side, and allowed his hand to hover over the hilt of the familiar weapon. Focusing intently on the other man, he forced
everything else to the background, amber eyes narrowed with concentration as he
sent forth his senses, reading the bandit’s intentions through his fluctuating
ki. “Did you kill that child swiftly…or
did you draw it out, enjoying the scent of blood…the taste of it?”
“What the—“ Eyes widening in shock, the
man gripped his spear tight enough his knuckles turned white. In his mind there was something very wrong
with the boy standing before him holding the sheathed katana with such casual
skill. His words sent a shiver coursing
down his spine and he realized too late that he’d grossly underestimated his
opponent. “Who are you?”
Saito slowly stepped forward, resting
the bloodied blade of his katana against the shaking bandit’s shoulder next to
his exposed neck. “You now face
Hitokiri Battousai. I would suggest
saying you prayers, vermin. He dislikes
scum like you nearly as much as I do.”
As if this were the cue to move,
Battousai sprang forward with blinding speed and drew his katana in one deadly
motion, slashing the immobilized man across the chest. Exerting extreme control he stopped his
blade from continuing on to cut into Saito’s exposed side. Pressing up against his enemy he stared into
his eyes watching as realization dawned and the life began to fade. “Tenchu.”
He whispered as his latest victim fell, dead, to the bloodstained
ground. Slowly allowing his sword-arm
to fall to his side he turned to face the Shinsengumi captain. “Saito…”
“Ahou.”
After performing a curt chiburi he bent to wipe the remaining blood from
his blade on the bandit’s clothes.
“Why?” He asked after
straightening.
With a careless shrug, Battousai turned
to stare at the moon. “Does it
matter?” The scent of blood was strong
in the air, permeating his senses, calling to him seductively, sickening him,
turning his stomach. Slowly he pressed
a shaking hand to his injured side, feeling the sticky warmth of blood flow
over his fingers. “Justice was served. There is no need to pursue this further.”
“What?
You aren’t going to try to kill me?”
Saito snorted derisively. “What
of that promise you made last time we faced each other?”
Remembering clearly that he’d promised
to end Saito Hajime’s life the next time they met, the hitokiri shrugged
again. “I don’t feel like it. Maybe next time.”
“You should take care of that,
Battousai.” He gestured towards the
smaller man’s injured side. “As much as
it galls me to admit it, I owe you a debt of honour.”
“You owe me nothing.” With a quick flick of his wrist, he
performed a swift chiburi. “I don’t accept
your ‘debt of honour’.” The words
dripped with bitter sarcasm, his disdain for the concept of Saito owing him
anything of the sort was obvious.
Reaching inside his haori he withdrew a cloth and used it to rid his
blade of all remaining blood before carelessly tossing it atop the fallen
bandit’s corpse.
“You’re different.” Saito scowled when the sound of running feet
drifted on the night air. “And if you
don’t leave now, you’ll be dead.”
“Ahh…” His lips twisted into a
smirk. “The patrol from earlier.” Amber gaze moving to rest on the bared steel
of his blade, he fell silent for a moment.
“If you let me go, Saito, you will be branded a traitor.”
“Get out of here.” He turned his back on the younger man
purposefully, knowing, somehow, that he wouldn’t try to kill him. Not tonight, at least. “Go now and consider this repayment for your
actions earlier.”
The sound of the blade sliding into its
sheath was loud in the ensuing silence.
“Until next time, then, Saito Hajime.”
Turning on his heel, Battousai swiftly disappeared into the night, using
the sudden darkness of clouds drifting over the moon to mask his movements.
Saito closed his eyes and drew in a deep
breath of the night air, ignoring the unmistakable tang of freshly spilled
blood. “Until next time,
Battousai.” He murmured softly,
reaching inside his haori and withdrawing a package of cigarettes.
**To Be Continued…**