From: WildWyrick@aol.com

Hi, minna!  I've been kicking this idea around for a while, so I decided to 
go ahead and write it.  I *will* work on part 7 of "Those Days" soon, though. 
 Promise!  ^_~

Thanks to everybody who gave support and encouragement on Part 6: Tatsuko, 
Sakka-chan (I'm glad you like Saitoh!  He's so fun to write.  Personally, I 
think if Kenshin had been in his place he would have gone for the chloroform 
and been grateful!  But Saitoh's so stubborn... ^_^), Miss_Led (Saitoh=Clint 
Eastwood... I like!), 
Sentora, and Tae-san (glad you liked the dice game!  I wanted something to 
parallel Kenshin's game of roulette, so that seemed like a good option.  
Plus, I wanted to keep the fic fun and not get into anything really heavy or 
disturbing.)

Thanks again for all the support!  On to the fic...


When I Am Dead, Then Close My Eyes

* a Rurouni Kenshin fanfic written for entertainment purposes
only.  Rurouni Kenshin characters are the property of Nobuhiro
Watsuki


October, 1871 (during the wandering years of Himura Kenshin)


    The young man stood outside the drinking-house,
listening as the mirth within spilled into the darkness,
surrounding him.  Rain lashed his face, stinging his eyes.  He
shivered as cold water ran down the back of his shirt.  A burst
of laughter reached his ears, and he shifted nervously.  He knew
his death might be waiting inside, if the bandits had reached this
town already.  But if not...

    He set his teeth resolutely.  In his mind he heard his
mother, pleading with him not to go.  He remembered her
begging him on her knees to stay in the village.  They would
find some way to placate the bandits, she promised.  Why was
he being stubborn?  Why was he so unreasonable?

    He shook his head, trying to drive the scene from his
mind.  She had always been frightened of everything, afraid of
shadows.  It was as if she believed all that nonsense about a
curse.  If the crops were poor, it was because the village was
cursed.  If a child died of sickness, it was because the village
was cursed.  If bandits threatened them...

    "There's no curse on me," he said aloud.  Without
further hesitation, the young man pushed the door of the
drinking-house open and was enveloped by the warmth and
light that poured out.

    Heads turned as a sudden gust of cold air and rain
followed him into the room.  He shut the door quickly behind
him and stood shivering, studying the faces turned toward his
own.  Hard, dirty faces.  He swallowed.  "Excuse me..."  Water
dripped off his clothes, forming a puddle at his feet.  "I
wonder..."

    "What is it you want, boy?"  The man who spoke to him
wore both a katana and a scowl.

    "I'm from Fuun,"  he blurted out.  If they were bandits,
he had just sealed his fate.  He shifted nervously, waiting to see
if he would live or die.

    The men only laughed.  "So what?  Who cares about
Fuun?"

    The young man flushed.  "I care about it!  Bandits are
threatening us, saying they're going to take over.  It may be just
a poor village, but I think it's worth saving!"  He regarded the
men levelly.  "I'm here to hire anyone who is willing to fight for
us!"

    The man with the katana laughed.  "With what?  Are
you carrying a sack of gold under those rags?  Besides," he
said, "everybody says Fuun is cursed.  Why should we risk our
lives to save such a place?"  He took a swig of sake.  "Go back
to your village and die, boy.  Or go to the government for help. 
You won't find any here!"

    "You're wrong."  The words were spoken softly, but
they cut through the men's laughter.  The room was suddenly
silent.  The young man turned hopefully, searching for the
speaker.  

    A samurai was sitting in the corner, a jug of sake in
front of him and a sheathed sword propped against his shoulder. 
His gaze was clear and piercing, like a blade.

    The young man couldn't breathe as long as those eyes
held his.  This man possessed a power he had never felt before. 
He was slight, yet he was undoubtedly the strongest man in the
room.  A chill ran down the young man's back that didn't come
from the rain.  He shivered as the samurai's gaze traveled over
him, summing him up.  Then those light, piercing eyes locked
with his again, and he caught his breath with a gasp.

    "Do you really want my help?  It isn't free."  The
samurai regarded him gravely.

    "I... I don't have much money!"

    "I didn't ask you for any."  He rose in a single fluid
movement, ignoring the murmuring of the men around him. 
"Let's go."  He scanned the room, his eyes resting for a moment
on the man with the katana.  Then he walked out into the rain,
the young man at his heels. 

#

    "Don't you know it's dangerous for a boy to travel alone
at night?"

    His companion stared straight ahead as he walked, his
expression hard, unsmiling.  The young man's gaze was drawn
to the cross-scar on his cheek.  <Red hair and a cross-scar.> 
He had heard stories, but this man couldn't be the legendary
hitokiri.  Why would a famous warrior be willing to help a poor
village?  "I know it's dangerous, but nobody else would go. 
Everyone in Fuun is afraid."

    "A village called 'misfortune'," the man murmured.  "Did
you ever consider that if they're so afraid, maybe they deserve
their misfortunes?"

    "No one deserves to be killed by bandits!"

    "Hmm..."  The young man looked down at the boy. 
"What's your name?"

    "Tetsuo.  Sasai Tetsuo."  Screwing up his courage, he
added, "And I'm not a boy.  I'm fourteen already!"

    "Fourteen...I would not have guessed it.  You're small
for your age."

    "We don't have much food in our village."

    "Of course."  The swordsman made no further comment
and didn't introduce himself.  For a few moments they walked in
silence.  Tetsuo felt the man's eyes on him, studying him again. 
He swallowed, gathering his courage.  "What's...your name?"

    His companion seemed startled by the question.  Then
he gave a short, mirthless laugh.  "I'm a rurouni.  My name's not
important."

    The bitterness in his voice made the young man look at
him wonderingly.  It was strange for someone not to give his
name unless he was ashamed of it, or a criminal.  Maybe this
man was the hitokiri, or in league with the bandits, only
pretending to help...  He looked up at the grim countenance
fearfully.

    The rurouni seemed to sense his companion's anxiety. 
"Don't worry, Tetsuo-kun," he said.  "I promise you have
nothing to fear from me."  He squeezed the young man's
shoulder.  "Now tell me about your village, and the bandits."

#

    Tetsuo's house stood at the edge of the village, a lone
sentinel looking down on the muddy, winding road.  They
approached it slowly, both soaked to the skin and exhausted
from walking most of the night in the driving rain.  There was
no light inside to welcome them.  "My mother isn't well,"
Tetsuo said softly.  "I'm afraid we have no money to offer you
and very little food."

    "I don't want anything from you or your mother."

    The young man was startled by the tone of the rurouni's
voice.  He had watched his companion's face as he told him the
story of Fuun and the bandits.  What sympathy he had seen
there faded as he explained how the villagers had no spirit
because they believed they were under a curse.

    "Do you know why they say that?" the rurouni asked.

    "No.  Only that there is often sickness and drought.  The
bandits come and no one will challenge them.  The elders say
we are too weak and too few, that once we could have fought
them but now it's too late."

    "Do you believe it is too late, Tetsuo-kun?"  Even in the
darkness, the boy could feel those light eyes piercing him.

    He shook his head vehemently.  "When we are dead we
won't have to see the injustices around us anymore.  But as long
as I'm alive, I will not give up my dreams for this village.  I
won't abandon it!"

    The door of the house opened a crack as he uttered
those words, and a pale face peered out into the darkness. 
"Tetsuo?"  The voice was tremulous.

    "It's me, mother.  It's all right.  I found a warrior in the
next village who will fight for us.  He's a rurouni..." 
Embarrassed he had no name to give, Tetsuo let the sentence
dissolve into silence.  "Please come in," he said, when his
mother simply backed away without a greeting.

    Inside, they removed their wet cloaks.  Tetsuo's mother
stirred the fire and gradually the shabby interior of the house
was illuminated with a soft, red glow.  The rurouni studied each
wall, each dark corner as the flames drove back the shadows.  

    Tetsuo's mother let out a shriek when she saw his face in
the light for the first time.  Her hand flew to her own
unblemished cheek and she stared at him with terrified eyes. 
"Tetsuo," she breathed, "what have you done?"

    The rurouni regarded her coldly.  "So," he said softly,
"you recognize me."

    "Your face...."  It seemed to Tetsuo she was almost
weeping with fear.  "Why did you come here?  What are you
going to do to us?"

    "He's come to help us fight the bandits.  He's not going
to hurt anyone!"  Although he was impatient with his mother's
hysterical reaction, Tetsuo felt a slight uneasiness about the
stranger for the first time.  It seemed certain he had found the
legendary hitokiri, after all.

    "Why did you do this?" she moaned.  "We could have
given the bandits what they wanted."

    "We have nothing left to give.  Can't you see what's
happening?  They won't be satisfied until they've taken
everything and the village is in ruins.  It's better to fight them,
even if we die!"

    "You've done this to him!  You've filled his head with
these ideas!"  Tetsuo's mother turned to the rurouni, her eyes
flashing.  "You want him to die.  You want to hurt us--"

    "Be quiet and listen to your son!"  The visitor had been
observing this exchange in silence, but at her words something
in him seemed to snap.  His face was hard, unsympathetic in the
firelight.  "Don't let your stupidity ruin his chance for a decent
life."

    Tetsuo's mother burst into tears and fell to her knees,
sobbing.  The rurouni stood above her, his fists clenched at his
sides.  "You're a fool," he said bitterly.  "I came here with no
thought but to help, yet you're too weak and afraid to
understand.  Is pity as impossible for you to grasp as honor?"

    At these words, Tetsuo's mother only sobbed harder. 
The rurouni looked down at her impassively, unmoved by her
tears.  Tetsuo felt his anger rising as he watched them.  So what
if this man had killed hundreds?  That gave him no excuse to
have such contempt for ordinary villagers whose daily struggles
were completely unknown to him.  If his mother was weak and
afraid it was because the difficulties of her life had made her so. 
How could a famous warrior know what it was like to have no
food for the coming winter, to always be afraid of marauders? 
He was strong and young and his name was feared by everyone. 
How could he know what it was like to live without hope?

    "Leave her alone!"  Tetsuo inserted himself between
them, his chin raised challengingly.  "I thought you were kind
when you offered to help us, but you're just a bully like
everyone else with a sword.  You look down on ordinary
people because they're weaker than you!  You're no different
from the bandits!"

    The rurouni's hand closed around his arm so quickly and
with such pressure that Tetsuo jumped back a little in fear.  The
man's face was close to his own, his eyes glowing yellow in the
firelight.  "Don't ever say that to me."  His voice was low, but it
was more frightening than if he had shouted.  

    The hand tightened painfully, and Tetsuo whimpered in
spite of himself.  "I'm going to die now," he thought.  "The
hitokiri will kill me without a second thought."  Against his will,
tears welled in his eyes.  Hesitantly, he lifted them toward the
rurouni's face.  It was the bravest thing he had ever done. 
"Were you lying when you said I had nothing to fear from
you?"  He held his breath, waiting.

    The man stared down at him for a long moment, then a
look of disgust crossed his face and he flung the boy away from
him.  Crossing the room with swift strides, he tore the door
open and disappeared into the night.

    Tetsuo lay on the dusty floor, stunned.  He could hear
his mother nearby, still weeping.  Slowly he pushed himself to
his knees and crawled to her.  "I'm sorry, mother," he said
wearily.  "I'm sorry I brought him here.  I don't know why he
became so angry.  Surely he's used to people being afraid of
him.  How are we any different?  What did he expect?"

    "Do you know... do you know who he is?" she gasped.

    "The hitokiri Battousai."

    She shook her head, baffled by the suggestion.  "Maybe,
if you say so.  I only know him as Himura Shinta, my older
brother's son."

#

    Tetsuo found him at dawn, when the storm finally
passed.  His mother told him where to go.

    A little distance from the village, there was a green hill
covered by tall grasses.  A grove of trees grew at the summit. 
The rurouni stood among them, motionless and silent in the
gray morning light.  At first Tetsuo didn't think the man was
aware of him, since he was standing with his back to the trail
from the village.  But suddenly he spoke.  

    "Your father helped me bury my parents here.  He was a
good man.  Everyone else was afraid to touch their bodies
because of the disease, but he was different."  The rurouni
turned slowly to face Tetsuo.  His eyes were the color of ice,
clear and cold, but they no longer filled the boy with fear.  "Like
you."

    Tetsuo couldn't meet that gaze.  "I'm sorry."  

    "For what?"

    "For what I said, for bringing you here, for
everything..."

    "I'm the one who should be sorry, Tetsuo-kun.  You
trusted me without knowing me, and I betrayed that trust.  But
I will be true to my word."  He stepped forward, resting his
hands lightly on the boy's shoulders, "I will fight to protect this
village.  And if I can save no one but you, that alone will be
worth my life!"

    At those words Tetsuo looked up into the rurouni's face. 
How had he overlooked those features, so like his own?  How
had he been so blind?  Tears blurred his vision and he reached
out, clinging to the rurouni's worn gi as if it were a lifeline. 
"Cousin..."

    He was enfolded in a fierce embrace.  Tetsuo felt he had
found the safest place in the world.  "No one ever spoke of you. 
I have no brothers, no sisters, no one but my mother.  I never
imagined..."  He broke off, trying to get his emotions under
control.  "Shinta-kun..."

    "Don't call me that," he rurouni said softly.  He did not
sound angry, only very tired.  "My name is Kenshin now. 
Shinta is dead."

    "I don't understand."

    "He was killed by bandits, a long time ago."

    "Tell me."

    Gently, Kenshin pushed the boy away and studied his
face.  "Are you sure you want to know?  Nothing will be the
same."

    "Nothing is the same already."

    "True."  Kenshin sighed and sat heavily on the ground. 
Tetsuo sank down beside him.  He thought the rurouni would
begin talking about the bandits, but instead he said, "People
started calling this village 'misfortune' when I was still a child. 
There was a drought the year I was born, and another four
years later.  Things were very difficult for my father, and for
yours, too.  And if that wasn't bad enough, sickness would
sweep through the village from time to time.  It was during the
worst epidemic that my parents died."

    Kenshin had been looking at the ground as he spoke, but
now he leaned back against a tree and met the boy's eyes.  "You
don't remember any of this, of course.  You were just a baby. 
But you helped me, Tetsuo-kun, even then.  Your smile, your
laugh, your innocence-- those were the only things that gave me
hope during that time.  My parents were gone, everything I
knew was slipping away.  I thought things couldn't get any
worse.  Then, a few days after your father died, the slavers
came."

    "Slavers?"

    Kenshin nodded.  "Even now there are groups of them
roaming the countryside, but in those days it was commonplace
for them to prey on the misfortunes of villages like Fuun.  This
particular band had been all over the region, terrifying the
peasants and collecting slaves.  Like your bandits are doing
now, they said they would destroy the village if Fuun didn't buy
its safety.  And, like now, the villagers were afraid and wanted
to placate them instead of fight.  So that is what they did."

    He sighed heavily.  "There were six of us chosen, all
orphans.  Four boys and two girls.  The villagers cried over us
and told us they would never forget our sacrifice.  They begged
us to understand and to forgive them.  The others forgave them,
but when it was my turn to speak I told them I would never
understand or forgive what they had done.  How can a village
give away its children?  How can buy your life with the lives of
those who are weaker?  To this day, I cannot think as they do."

    "What happened?" Tetsuo whispered.

    "I told them the village would be cursed," he said
simply.  "And then the slavers took me away."

    "And the other children?"

    "I still remember the manner of all their deaths.  It's
strange-- I was the youngest and the smallest, yet I was the only
one who survived.  All the rest were dead within a year of
leaving Fuun."

    A question had been forming in Tetsuo's mind, but he
was almost afraid to utter it.  "My mother?"

    "She would not help her brother's son."

    "Because she was afraid for her own," Tetsuo said
bitterly.  "Why did you come here, Kenshin?  Why did you ever
come back to this place?  We are cursed, just as you said!"  He
started to jump to his feet, but the rurouni laid a gentle yet firm
hand on his arm and pulled him back.

    "No, Tetsuo," Kenshin said, "I was only a child.  I was
hurt and I was angry, but I didn't lay a curse on anyone.  No
one has that power.  The villagers have lived in fear far too
long.  They are so afraid of dying they are afraid to live.  The
curse, such as it is, exists only in their hearts."

    "Do you think it's too late to change them?"

    The rurouni looked at him steadily, considering. 
"Before I met you last night I would have said, 'Yes, it is too
late for Fuun.'  But your words stirred me.  'When we are dead,'
you said, 'we won't have to see the injustices around us
anymore.  But as long as I'm alive, I will not give up my dreams
for this village.  I won't abandon it!'  Knowing what you do
now, do you still feel that way?"

    "Everything in my heart is confused, but the situation is
still the same."  Tetsuo looked into Kenshin's face and smiled
weakly.  "Are the bandits still wrong?  Does Fuun still need us? 
I don't think you have to forgive someone, or even understand
them, to help them."

    "I agree," the rurouni said.  "There are many deeds in
this world that can never be forgiven.  Fuun's sins are not the
greatest.  But seeing you here beside me, Tetsuo, gives me hope
that some good can come out of even the darkest times."  He
stood up slowly, stretching a little.  As he did so, his eyes
strayed to the path leading back to the village.  "We really
should go back now, though.  Your mother will be worried, and
we have a lot of planning to do if we're going to defeat the
bandits."  He held out his hand to the boy.  "Are you with me,
Tetsuo-kun?"

    The boy clasped the offered hand without hesitation. 
No other response was necessary.

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