Heart of Sword
    by Nadya Neklioudova
Author's WARNING: This story contains *ATOMIC SPOILERS* ABOUT KENSHIN’S PAST!!! (Shonen Jump #44 and beyond)


 
 

Kenshin had quietly slipped out of the Dojo. Why? Even he did not know. He walked the silent moonlit streets, until he got out of the bothersome city. Moonlight… It made an ominous shine on his hair, which now looked darker in the night. Like a shadow. Unnoticed. The moonlight fell onto the hilt of his reverse sword as well. He glanced at it, then pulled it out… no reason at all. The blade was clean, and shining in the moonlight. The sword was clean but… was his life? The thought made him remember – how new, fresh blood on the blade of his sword shone differently in the moonlight… It wasn’t the same sword then. It was a normal one – sharpened on the right side, the side used for killing. If he took it out of the sheath and swung it properly, someone’s life would be over, like a lightning flash, and the body would fall down without even noticing it was dead. He was in full control of people’s lives. Free to cut their string of life whenever he wanted to. Hitokiri… He shuddered at the thought, trying to chase old memories away. Walking through the forest… His body was walking through the forest but… his mind was living through old memories. Almost nightmare memories of 10 years ago and before. His purple eyes, like those of an eagle, searched the trees around him to avoid branches. From time to time, his hand moved to push them away from his face. Of course, he wanted to drive the thought of the words "Hitokiri Battousai" away now, but would he have done the same then? Long ago? No. An all-watching, all-knowing smile would appear on his face, and his yellow eyes would narrow and gleam in the matching yellow moonlight like the blade of his sword. Then he would pull it out, fast, like lightning, so that no one but he can see its movement. And someone’s life would be over. Over. Like that. Simple. Or was it simple? His life as the kind-hearted, peace-loving boy Shinta had ended, just like that. When he was taught how to use a sword, and use it for killing, Shinta’s life was cut short, as if it was a thin string. Hitokiri Battousai’s life began. A life filled with the scent of blood, the sight of blood, clashing swords and falling bodies. His mind sank deeper into old memories, however much he tried to resist it – it was like sinking into a bog. Slowly, steadily, he was absorbed – in his memories. He briefly thought what caused these sudden flashbacks. There was nothing especially unusual about this night… The occasional chirping of crickets, the moonlight probing through the tree canopy, sometimes the flapping wings of an awakened, startled bird. Maybe that was it? The night was too usual – too much like the usual nights of his life as Hitokiri. Was his life blank and usual like that too? He shuddered at the thought… years wasted. And wasted with what? Killing. He sighed deeply as he pushed another annoying branch away from his handsome face. But… nothing is ever wasted, is it? Just like nothing is ever forgotten. He wished it could be. He wished he could forget his nightmare life as Hitokiri, he wished with all his might that the most common object in all his dreams wasn’t a bloody sword. But he faced it, he had been facing it for 10 years. The Hitokiri would always be within him, always grinning evilly at the shadow of the little boy – Shinta. He was always the combination of both - the innocence and the remorse, the peace-loving and the killer. Would his life be torn into two like that forever? He wished it didn’t have to… But it made him what he is. He wouldn’t have been the same Kenshin if either part of him was absent – the Hitokiri or Shinta. Kenshin… "Heart Of Sword". He had both – the kind, giving and forgiving heart of the innocent Shinta, and the lightning-fast, fatal sword of Battousai. Just like his name is inseparable, the two sides of him could never be separated… He had been living by the principle of "the sword that protects life", trying to, if not erase the past faults of his life, but at least help them go away, as he took the vow of never using his sword to kill, and accepted the Sakabatou blade. But… A sword, reversed or not, is still the weapon of a killer. The sword technique he used is still the technique of a killer. Even if he lived by the principle of "the sword that protects life", would he ever be free of all the remorse and guilt of his life as Hitokiri? No.

He slumped down to sit by a tree. He wasn’t seeing the forest around him anymore, his mind had sunk back into memories too far. Then his thoughts slowly shifted, and out of nowhere appeared an image. He tried to brush it away, and the painful memory that was associated with it in his mind. However, he had allowed himself to be immersed in memories for so long, that he could no longer suppress the images that his mind created. The picture became clearer, and so did the memory. Now he accepted the images that arose from his past, and let them become clear to his mind, repeating themselves. The image his wandering mind brought was of a young woman, with shoulder-length dark hair and dark, deep eyes, deep without a shine, deep as the ocean, but slightly disturbing at the same time. Tomoe. His wife. A slight, somewhat electrical feeling went through him as the name associated with the image resurfaced. Then that image was replaced with the image of blood… He had seen enough blood in his life, but this memory brought back the pain he felt at that time. Tomoe had disappeared from his life. Forever. Now he was completely absorbed into memories, reliving them as they came. Skipping the 10 long, dull years of wandering, his mind quickly returned to the the memory of Tokyo, and his first meeting with Kaoru. Kaoru-dono… She can be annoying, he thought, more with his mind now than his subconscious memories; she can be a loud-mouthed pain, and her cooking is absolutely terrible, but… He loved her. Even more than Tomoe… When Jinei had kidnapped her and paralyzed her, when he thought she was going to die, he not only fought for himself but for her. Not since Tomoe’s death had he done that for anyone… He had good friends, real friends – Sanosuke, Yahiko, Megumi… But he cared for Kaoru most of all. Her outward appearance was like that of a young annoying girl, but he knew inside of that shell was a fragile young woman, who had lost her family and was looking for a true friend and lover. She was the only one he said goodbye to when he left for Kyoto, returning to the life of the ‘wanderer’. He knew that after he left, she collapsed to the ground, crying for him to return. His heart told him to return for her but his mind told him to go on forward, leaving her behind for the good of the country. If only she knew what quarrel was going through his mind when he had walked away into the mist that time… But… he was sure she knew. As he remembered Kaoru’s deep blue eyes - unlike the deep shine-less eyes of Tomoe, hers were blue like the sky, understanding, kind and caring. Finally his own eyes opened, brushing away the web of memories, to greet the soft light of dawn. Only now had he noticed the warm gentle breeze blowing through his red hair, and the sound of the awakening birds happy to greet the rising sun. He had spent the whole night in the dark woods, enveloped in his memories. Kaoru-dono and the others will be worried about me, he thought as he brushed the last memories away like the threads of a spider-web. He got up from the ground and started to head back – towards home. The only home that he could truly consider home was the Kamiya Dojo – where his friends were, and most importantly, his young lover, who is probably worrying her head off right about now… He smiled, as he walked through the forest lit by the morning sun.



 

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