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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Part 1
Butcher.
The katana moved up,
moonlight glinting off the cold steel of the blade. Killer. The blade
paused for a moment, then swept down in a deadly arc. Monster. Battousai closed his eyes, the tangy scent of
blood filling his senses. He parted his
lips and, feeling the blood on them, licked slowly, an almost rapturous
expression crossing his youthful face.
He opened his eyes, almost glowing in the darkness, madness lending
intensity to the heat of the amber gaze.
He raised his hand slowly, staring at the blood on the katana he
held. He reached up with his other
hand, tracing his fingers through the cooling blood. A moment later, he raised his fingers to his mouth, licking the
blood from them, tasting, before drawing them into his mouth and suckling
greedily.
Why had he never noticed how pleasurable killing could be? How much enjoyment had he missed during his pathetic time of self-denial? He already despised himself, so anything he now did made no difference to him. He smiled, a frighteningly angelic smile contrasting with the insane glitter of his eyes. “Saito Hajime…What a pleasant chance meeting.” He turned slowly to face the man who had tried to creep up behind him unnoticed.
“Battousai.” His lip curled
with disgust.
Battousai tilted his head to the side mockingly, the smile widening
into an almost cheerful expression if not for the malice gleaming in his amber
eyes. “Are you here to kill me,
Saito?” He sounded almost mildly
curious and a little bored.
“Your obscenity must be stopped.”
He moved into the stance for his favorite technique…the Gatoutsu. “Your perversion has reached demonic
proportions. You should have been
killed months ago before your insanity reached this level of debasement.”
The younger man pursed his lips thoughtfully and tapped a finger
against his lips. “Maybe I don’t want
you to kill me. What then?”
“Your death is assured, Battousai.
My Gatoutsu never misses.” He
sprang forward in the powerful thrusting technique, feeling grim satisfaction
as his target showed a look of surprise and seemed momentarily shocked
motionless. The next instant he disappeared. Saito came to a stop, his annoyance
carefully hidden. He whirled at a tap
on his shoulder.
“Your Gatoutsu never misses, huh?
I guess there’s always a time for a first.” Saito’s eyes narrowed as he stared down into the delicate
features of the killer known as Hitokiri Battousai and saw the mocking smile curving his
lips. “Have you ever wondered why
you’re so good at killing, Saito?”
Saito swung his katana in a side arc, intending to sever head from
body. The blade sliced through air as
Battousai disappeared once again.
“Justice, Battousai. Justice is
on my side.”
“Wrong.” Saito spun to face the smaller man. “You’re faster, stronger and better trained than most. But under it all you like power…and having complete control over whether a man lives or dies is the ultimate power. Wouldn’t you agree, Saito Hajime?”
“Perhaps for you.” Saito’s
eyes reflected his growing anger directed at the younger man…and the knowledge
that this was some kind of sick game being orchestrated by the ansatsusha before him.
“Me? No, it has nothing to do with power, not at all.” He laughed brightly, the malice fading to genuine amusement in his eyes. “I like blood, Saito. The colour, the smell…even the taste, I like it all.” He laughed again as horror crossed Saito’s expression. “The sound of a katana cutting through flesh and bone…I like that, too. Death is fascinating in its finality.”
“Your degradation is even worse than I first envisioned. How can you calmly discuss such a perversion
of human nature?”
“Well, you brought it up, Saito.
If you’d rather not discuss it, then that’s fine with me. Just don’t blame me for your own
shortcomings and morbid curiosity. I
only take responsibility for my own deviancy, you know. What you do is none of my concern.”
“You’re disgusting, Battousai…real filth.” Saito’s revulsion showed clearly in his tone
and expression.
“There’s no need to be insulting, Saito.” Battousai’s eyes narrowed dangerously though his tone remained
mild. His expression altered again to the
mask of pleasant young man. “Ask me
anything, Saito, anything at all, and I’ll tell you the truth…Just as long as
it isn’t about the Ishinshishi.”
“How generous of you. Why?” Saito didn’t dare relax his stance and leave himself open to attack, though he was rather curious about the change he sensed in Battousai…this was almost an entirely different man compared to the one he fought just over seven months before. What made him change so drastically?
“I just finished killing.
I’m in a good mood.” Saito
couldn’t hide his repulsion at the candid reply. “What’s the matter, Saito?
Feeling a little ill?”
Saito swallowed the bile working its way up his throat and forced
his expression to careful blankness.
“Not at all. Why do you enjoy
killing so much, Battousai?”
He frowned at Saito, clearly irritated by the question. “I told you, I like blood. I don’t like repeating myself, Saito, so pay
attention.”
“Is that the only reason?”
Saito raised an eyebrow in surprise when the amber gaze slid away from
his own, uncertainty filling the young man’s expression for a moment. “Or is there more to it than just the
blood?”
“What does it matter, Saito?
Why are you asking that?” Saito
smirked down at him triumphantly. He
had succeeded in rattling Battousai’s nerves it seemed. “What’s that look for?”
“You said you’d answer any question except anything concerning the
Ishinshishi. Are you reneging,
Battousai?”
He shook his head sharply.
“No. I like the blood,
Saito. And I like the feeling I get
when I watch the life go out of my target’s eyes. Are you happy? Is that
what you wanted to hear?”
Saito ignored the petulant note in the other’s voice and his own
growing nausea. Battousai was clearly
insane. “What feeling would that be?”
“Uh…” The younger man hesitated, a faint blush creeping into his
face. “I don’t think you want to know
that, Saito. It might…um…embarrass
you.” Saito folded his arms over his
chest, resting his katana against his shoulder and raised an eyebrow
mockingly. “Well, you insisted so don’t
blame me.” He grinned up at Saito and
gestured below his waist. “That
kind of good feeling, Saito. You know,
the kind most men get when visiting a baita. I don’t mind them, but I
like the killing more. It’s quicker and
less effort. I have no one to please
but myself.”
Saito felt the blood first rush into his face in acute
embarrassment…just as Battousai had warned…then drain away, leaving him pale
with horrified shock. “Kami-sama…Chickushou!”
The younger man looked up at him in concern. “Are you all right, Saito? Maybe you should sit down for a while. You look a little pale.” He gestured to the side at a nearby
building. “Here, I’ll even help you.”
Saito glared at him and knocked his hand away. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch any part of me.” For a moment Saito almost thought he saw
hurt in the amber eyes looking up at him with concern.
“Suit yourself. How do you
expect to kill me without touching me?
And why the sudden aversion anyway?”
“It is unfortunate, but I’ll have to dispose of my katana after I
kill you. And to answer your question,
the sudden aversion, as you call it, stems from your obvious corruption. That kind of pleasure is NOT experienced
when killing, Battousai. It is abnormal
behaviour.”
He nodded slowly, an agreeable expression on his young face. “Yes, yes…I have to agree with you
there. It is abnormal, sick, and
disgusting…but you asked and I told you.
It isn’t my fault that you reacted so negatively. I did try to warn you after all.” A sly look entered his eyes. “Don’t you ever feel lust, Saito?”
“Of course. Every man does
at some point. What does that have to
do with your perversion?” Saito didn’t
trust the look on Battousai’s face…it was too pleasant, contrasting with the
malevolence reflected in his amber eyes.
“Now, be honest,
Saito…you owe me that at least since I’m being honest with you…where do you go
to relieve that lust?” Saito scowled
and pressed his lips together tightly.
“Oh, come on. It isn’t as if I’m
about to tell anyone else, you know.”
“The Akasen, ahou. Where else?”
“There’s no need to call me names, Saito. I may be insane, but there’s nothing wrong with my
intelligence. I’m surprised you didn’t
mention the Iro no Machi as well.” He smiled up at
Saito, eyes glittering with spite. “You
seem the type to enjoy the attentions of a skilled…and maybe not so skilled…danshou.”
Saito felt the blinding red haze of rage descend over his eyes. “Maybe you’d like my attentions,
hmm? Unfortunately, you probably
wouldn’t live through the experience.
It’s a shame…it might even have been enjoyable.”
“Shut up.” Saito didn’t
want to hear more of the filth coming out of the younger man’s mouth. He moved quickly, thrusting the katana
forward towards Battousai.
“Too slow. If you’re
serious about wanting to kill me, Saito Hajime, you’re going to have to become
a lot faster than you are now.” Saito
spun on his heel, springing forward in another abbreviated Gatoutsu. Again Battousai sprang out of reach. “Here, Saito let me show you how it should
be done.” All pretense of good humor
vanished from his expression, leaving a cold, impersonal mask with a twisted
smile curving his lips at the corners.
“Now watch closely, Saito, you only get one chance to see this. Keep your eye on the katana…don’t get
distracted…and don’t forget to look at me…when…you…die!” Battousai moved lightning quick, all but
disappearing from sight as he leaped forward in his specialized
attack…Battoujutsu, the technique from which he derived his name. Saito’s eyes widened in shock when he
finally realized the truth…Battousai had gotten faster in the past seven
months…a lot faster…and much deadlier than he had ever been, thanks to his
growing insanity. Saito knew he was as
good as dead when the blade reappeared before him, Battousai’s expression
revealing inhuman delight, his battle cry freezing Saito’s blood with
inexplicable fear. Then the katana
stopped, mere inches from penetrating his throat. “That’s how it’s done, Saito.”
Battousai’s breath came in shallow, panting gasps, the hand gripping the
katana showing white around the knuckles as it shook. “Move.” The command came
out in a low, dangerous growl.
“Now. Unless you want me to kill
you.”
Saito leapt back putting some much needed distance between himself
and the smaller man. “Why didn’t you
kill me, Battousai?”
“Don’t think I don’t want to.
I want to see your blood, Saito Hajime…almost more than anything. But…there’s something I want even
more…something only you can give me.”
**To Be Continued…**
***
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Author’s Notes:
1.This was originally a one part one-shot fic, but I thought it was
WAY to long, so I cut it into two parts.
Hope it makes it easier to read.
2.I have nothing against Battousai…in fact I think he’s a
fascinating character that gets the short end of the stick far too often…but
for the purposes of this fic I made him a little…um…unbalanced.
3.Due to some concern over the fact that I made Saito sound too
weak, I have to add that my intention had been for Battousai to unnerve Saito,
much the way the Rurouni unnerves his opponents. Saito isn’t weak, but face it…if he’s standing against Battousai
who’s supposedly insane and psyching him out, who’s going to give first? Definitely not the supposedly insane
hitokiri, right?
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Definitions:
katana (Japanese sword)
Battousai (nickname roughly meaning
‘sword-drawer’)
Hitokiri (manslayer; literally people cutter)
ansatsusha (assassin)
Ishinshishi (patriots; Imperialists)
baita (female prostitute)
Kami-sama (God)
Chickushou (Damn it!; Beast!)
Akasen (red-light district)
ahou (moron)
Iro no Machi (City of Sex; another, less refined
way, of referring to the Akasen)
danshou (male prostitute)