From: "Siew Lee, Wong" Yeah, it's out. ::Siew Lee rejoices around her computer:: Highests credits go to Rhionae and Hiko (the ultimate nice person in this world) for pre-reading this fic and also to Serizawa-san, Daniel and Miss Led (thank you for those pics!) for helping me on those questions. =) Special credits also go to Susan-san for being so helpful, especially on the history part. (Yeah, yeah, I'm a Science stream student and I sucked at History...) Thank you's also go out to those wonderful people on the Kenshin Fanfic Discussion List who gave their help and support. =) You guys know who you are. Anyway, I intend to make this fic an epic (if time permits) and it is going to be divided into three or two parts. =) For Aoshi worshippers, this fic is going to focus on Aoshi *all* the time and that makes him the hero here, instead of Kenshin. =) Er, not hero actually. Here, we will see how Aoshi gets into the Oniwabanshuu in the first place. ::evil grin:: You guys won't belive how much fun I had when I made Aoshi... cry. =) This is my first *serious* Rurouni Kenshin fanfic and I really hope you guys will give me some feedback or comments. Siew Lee Drifting Fragrances - http://members.dencity.com/hiei/kenshin.htm --------------------------------------------------------------------- Dreams in the Dark Part 1 : Embracing the Sword (Chapter 1) --------------------------------------------------------------------- ~~~ Summer, 1857 - in the outskirts of Edo ~~~ --------------------------------------------------------------------- Darkness. It was all around him, smothering him. The rhythmical splashing of raindrops echoed in his ears endlessly and the cold assaulted his wracked body without mercy. His face was buried in his arms, his body already numb and wet. A gust of cold air blew past and he shivered uncontrollably. His feet were blue from the cold as he had lost his shoes when he ran and ran from his home. Ten days... It had been ten days. Suddenly, there was a loud noise above him. He looked up, only to see bits of the clay tiles on the roof being blown away by the savage wind, leaving the rotting structural wooden beams behind. The boy ignored the rain, letting it wet his body. He had been through conditions worse than that. There were days when he would eat dirt and grass just to fill his empty stomach. There were also nights when he would lay his head on a boulder to rest his aching body. Tears came. Loud sobs escaped from his throat as his fragile self lay huddled in a corner, the slick and wet wood supporting his entire body weight. Lightning flashed across the skies. They were beautiful indeed, but the power and strength they showed were more than frightening. To the little boy, they were nothing if compared to the terror and horror which he witnessed. The temple in which he had sought protection from the merciless weather was slowly crumbling away under the bad weather but the boy stayed rooted there, his legs too tired to carry him any further. With a careless wipe by the sleeve of his ragged gi top, the little boy gathered himself and stood up. Puddles of muddy water dominated the barren earth and the soft ground sank dangerously beneath his feet. He steadied his balance by holding onto a broken wooden pillar with his trembling hands but slowly let go. The ancient statue of Buddha in the abandoned temple loomed behind those doors but the little boy stood outside the old building, seeking only minimal protection from the rain before the edge of the roof was blown away. His blood stained clothes burned his body and he stared at them unblinkingly. Painfully, he tried to croak out a word, but his throat was parched. He tried again; this time, he barely succeeded. "Kaasan..." mumbled the little boy as a tear slipped past his left eye. He looked at the front panel of his tiny cotton yukata and saw it stained red in color. "Touchan..." All he could remember was the terrified screams of his mother when the attackers raided the outer branch of the Matsudaira household. *Touchan was screaming something... Something about the house of Watanabe...* whispered the boy silently but he never got to listen to the entire word for all he had heard after that were screams and shrieks. Those memories would never fade no matter how hard he wished they would. "Watanabe! Watanabe! Watanabe!" screamed a voice in his mind and young boy snarled fiercely at the word. Those eyes... That man was holding his baby sister and threw her high in the air, aiming the sharp katana beneath her. He had to bite his fingers to avoid screaming when the crying bundle slid down from the tip of the sword to its hilt, her blood staining the blade a bright crimson hue. There was no more crying, only the booming sound of the ninja's sadistic laughter. He would remember that insane look in that man's eyes forever. The little boy kneeled down on the ground, ignoring the dampness that attacked him. *Kaasan...* wept the boy. He could never retell the horror and grief which overwhelmed him when he climbed out from the covered well where he sought asylum during the onslaught. It was like a sword being driven through his heart when he saw a familiar figure lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. He had seen enough of these things. "Kaasan!" he remembered screaming. He stared at a long gash along her arm and shriveled back in fear. He had accidentally cut himself once before and it hurt. Now, a gash about a foot long adorned his mother's arm and fresh blood was still gushing from it. Tears brimmed beneath his eyelids just to see how much pain and suffering his mother was forced to endure... Suddenly, the woman's eyes fluttered open and gazed at him. The boy edged closer, ignoring the blood which had soaked his knees and gi top. "Kaasan?" "Come here, Shi-chan... Come..." whispered the woman in a barely audible voice. Tears brimmed from her eyes as she struggled to sit up. The boy nodded and tried to help her up, calling her 'kaasan' in fearful whimpers. The woman gritted her teeth and reached behind with her uninjured arm to tear off her obi. With blood dripping from her chin, she drew her finger across the puddle of her own blood and began writing on the cloth with soft agonized moans. He looked fearfully on, his innocent eyes not understanding a single word before his mother finished scribbling on her cloth belt and stuffed it into the inside of his gi top with a shaking hand. Bearing the pain, the woman reached into her kimono and removed a copper coin strung on a red string. Weakly, she pulled the boy closer and placed the string around her son's neck. Slowly, she slumped down again, tears rolling down her pale cheeks. His mother's last words still echoed in his mind when he tried to lift her up again: "G... Go... Go and find someone named Tsunashige Makimachi of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu clan... He, as the Okashira, will help you... Let him read this letter and show him the coin, and he will help you... Shi-chan, take good care of yourself and seek vengeance for us when you are strong! Remember, seek vengeance..." The boy shook his head violently and cried, incoherent sounds erupting from his very core. He couldn't understand what was going on! He was frightened and scared; those gory scenes flashed past in his mind continuously. Fresh blood was trickling from the edge of her mouth as she coughed up mouthfuls of the sticky red liquid when she spoke to him for the last time. One sleeve of her purple kimono was torn off and long gashes adorned her upper torso. When she hugged him, he could heard her anguished breathing. When she died, her eyes remained open. The light in them... He would remember his mother's final expression. He shook her, called for her, but she remained motionless on the tiled floor. He hugged endlessly, but her body was getting colder and colder with every second that passed. It finally dawned on him that kaasan would never kiss him, hold him or even talk to him ever again. It was this far that his short legs could carry him and he collapsed weakly face-first onto the soft ground. When was the last time it has rained? The boy looked up at the darkened sky with dimmed blue eyes, relishing the rivulets of rain that ran down his cheeks, mingling with his tears. He knew the answer. It was just two days ago that it had last rained, but it had rained blood. Giving a shrill cry, the boy crawled towards the entrance of the old temple and heaved himself onto the doorsteps. He looked directly at the serene statue of Buddha and softly whispered, "Lord Buddha, where is kaasan? Lord Buddha, where is kaasan? Let me be with kaasan!" Slowly, his vision blurred and the objects around him seemed to have double outlines. A spinning headache set in and even that speck of light in his unconscious mind was effectively shut out by the reigning darkness. Before long, a small body lay motionless on the doorsteps of the abandoned temple. --------------------------------------------------------------------- Steady footsteps drew nearer and nearer. A figure towered above a slumped little body. The rain was slowing down and it was just a soft drizzle over the barren plains. The storm had just calmed down and droplets of water from the wide-rimmed straw hat dripped onto the ground. The man tore off the black veil which covered the lower part of his face and tucked it away in his uniform. "Little boy..." called the man, his dark mustache and goatee bristling at the sight of the dried blood on the boy's clothes. Gently, he bent down to roll the boy face up and gasped a little. "Kami-sama... Ichiro-chan?" half-shouted the man, shaking the boy's arm violently. *No... It can't be... Ichiro-chan is long dead...* whispered a voice skeptically in his mind. The man shook free of the voice and took a closer look at the boy. Gashes and bruises adorned his chest and his eyes were squeezed shut. His face was ghastly pale and his dark hair was plastered on his forehead. His fingers reached down to feel the boy's limbs and he moved his hand away reflexively. "Kami-sama... Is he dead?" muttered the man and began rubbing his hands against the boy's cold body. "Poor thing..." whispered the man and kneeled down on one knee, a hand stroking the boy's silky hair. Suddenly, something within the boy's clothes caught his eye. He narrowed his eyes. No, it wasn't mere dirt or debris, but it was a piece of fabric and there was some scrawling showing through. With tentative fingers, the man reached down to retrieve the cloth from the boy's chest. Flipping it open, his eyes widened. *No... This can't be... Ieshige Matsudaira can't be dead!* thought the man frantically, sitting on the ground weakly. *No, it can't be. If there was an onslaught in the Matsudaira household, why is everything so spick and span? There were no telltale signs of blood too...* He heaved a depressed sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly too tired to think anymore. Blinking them open, he quickly scanned through the rest of the letter. *Too late... Okashira, it's too late... * mumbled the man and gritted his teeth, his eyes staring at the boy. "I failed the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu... I failed my lord..." Stealing another glance at the unconscious boy, the man folded the letter and proceeded to slip it into the inner folds of his ninja uniform. *Better not to let him know about this... He's too young. Lucky thing, he is still very much alive.* Tearing off his cloak, he wrapped it around the fragile body and proceeded to carry the boy inside the temple. He looked around, his bright eyes searching for some twigs within the old temple. Very soon, a warm bonfire was crackling merrily in the midst of the ruined building. The man stroked the boy gently on his head and took off his outer coat, covering the shivering boy with it. "Matsudaira Aoshi, ne? Don't worry, my boy, you will live well... I'll get you to Okashira," whispered the man and flashed a small grin. The man smiled a little and leaned back, drifting into the Land of Dreams. --------------------------------------------------------------------- "Kaasan!" A shrill scream pierced through the silent night and a figure sat up straight, haggard breathing filling the air. Beads of sweat rolled down his forehead and his cotton yukata was damp from a mixture of perspiration and rainwater. There was a tingling sensation in his limbs and he shivered uncontrollably in the coldness. He stared at the cloak which kept him warm and wondered, *Who gave me the cloak? Was that you, kaasan?* A few embers burning brightly in the night caught his attention and he looked at them curiously. *Kaasan? Did you see me shivering in the cold and you gave me those embers to warm me?* They gave out warmth and comfort, almost as if he was lying in his mother's arms with the silky fabric of her kimono rustling in his ears. *Kaasan? Is that you? I miss you... Where are you?* Suddenly, there was a nip by his toe, followed by a flurry of movements, and a long and scaly object flicking against his ankle. Slowly, he looked at his foot and a pair of beady eyes stared back at him. "Kaasan!!!" screamed the boy and cried out loud. "Nezumi, kaasan!!!" shrieked the boy and tried to crawl away. The rat gave a few squeaks only to prompt more fear in the boy. The rat stood up on its hind legs, its whiskers twitching and sharp canines appeared in its mouth. Aoshi took a deep breath and began edging away inch by inch, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. The rat squeaked again and scurried off, leaving the poor boy alone. Aoshi heaved a soft sigh of relief and steadied his shaking legs, preparing to go back to sleep. Suddenly, something grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and lifted him up. Aoshi screamed again and began crying. *Kaasan had said that there were vampires and ghosts in the dark...* Softly, that *thing* whispered in his ear, "Little boy, don't ever scream like that at night or those evil demons will come and get you..." With his legs kicking at nothing, Aoshi let out a high pitched scream and struggled, his fingers clawing at the intruder's sleeve. "Wah... Kaasan... Nezumi desu... Tamashii desu..." "Now the rat is gone. Sit down and sleep. We need to get to Kyoto fast..." sighed the man in a softer tone and set Aoshi down. The boy scurried to a corner and sat down, his blue-gray eyes staring curiously. "...and don't ever scream like that again." With frightened tears running down freely, Aoshi buried his head into the sleeves of his dirty yukata top and sniffled. The man heaved a sigh and walked towards him. *Children... I hate children...* Kneeling on one knee, the man reached out a hand and stroked the boy's tousled dark hair. "Now, don't cry anymore. Get some sleep and we'll get to Kyoto as soon as possible to meet Okashira." Aoshi peered up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. "Who are you?" asked the boy weakly, his voice trembling from fear. "Are you going to kill me?" The man smirked and laughed. "Matsudaira Aoshi, who do you think I am? An assassin? You wouldn't be talking to me right now if I were employed to see that you vanish forever from the face of this world." "Who are you?" repeated Aoshi slowly, his fists all balled up until his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white. "How do you know my name?" "I'm Okina, a loyal member of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu," whispered the man into the boy's ear, pretending not to know anything about the Matsudaira disaster. *Now... I have to make him trust me in order to get him to Kyoto... C'mon, Okina. You are an expert in spying and don't tell me that you can't successfully lie to a six year old boy,* hissed a voice in his mind. *Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu*. That very phrase instantly rang a bell in Aoshi's mind. "Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu..." mumbled the boy softly and his clear eyes instantly looked up at the man. Quickly, his fingers closed around Okina's uniform. "You are from the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu? Really?" Okina nodded solemnly and flashed a lopsided smile. "Why? Is there anything? I just happened to pass by," he lied to the boy and watched his reaction. *Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late. Don't remind me of that.* "Kami-sama..." mumbled the boy and sprawled forward, landing on all fours. His little fingers closed around the leg of Okina's trousers and gripped tightly, tears brimming in his eyes once again. "Please... Kaasan asked me to find the Onimitsu Oniwabanshuu to help me..." wept the boy and tugged. "What happened?" asked Okina, interested to hear the other side of the story. "I don't know... Kaasan just woke me up and forced me to hide inside that well... When I managed to climb out from the well, kaasan and mouto-chan were already dead..." sobbed the boy endlessly. "Do you know who attacked your kaasan?" "I could only see his eyes and hear his voice..." "Never mind... I'm sure Okashira can help me... Now, don't cry... I'm scared of people crying like that," reassured Okina and patted the young boy softly on his head. *Who is this boy's father anyway?* *Why did Okashira ask me to come all the way to this place just to protect them?* *What have they done to meet with a full onslaught from their enemies?* "Will you get me to the Oniwabanshuu?" asked the boy frantically again and clawed at the sides of his arms. Okina sighed again and gently pried the boy away from his arms. *I hate answering questions.* Turning his focus onto Aoshi once again, he promised, "I'll make sure you get to Kyoto safe and sound." "Promise?" "Promise." --------------------------------------------------------------------- *You shouldn't bring the boy along. You don't know whether he is actually Ieshige Matsudaira's youngest son or not! He might be a fake!* whispered a voice softly in his mind. Okina's eyebrows met in a slight frown. It had been one full week since he had found the unconscious boy in that abandoned temple. He sighed again for the tenth time that hour. Aoshi was sound asleep beside him and there was no-one around in this little wooden shack. Not that he had no money to buy them a night's stay in a local inn, but he didn't want to arouse suspicion from anyone. He studied the young face which was twisted in an agonized way. *So young, so pitiful...* Reaching behind him, Okina removed a pair of wooden weapons and began polishing them with one end of his sash. Staring ahead, he swung his tonfa at an imaginary enemy and snickered. "Kaasan!" a sharp scream pierced the air followed by severe thrashing and Okina winced inevitably. Slowly, the screaming subsided and tears began slipping down the boy's cheeks. Gently, Okina took the end of his sash and brushed away Aoshi's tears. Leaning back against a wooden wall, he fiddled with his tonfa and closed his eyes slowly. *Just one more day to Kyoto... What should I tell Okashira? I have failed in this mission...* Going to Edo had been a tough decision on him. A very tough one for he had buried too many of his secrets, too much of his past behind him. Okina reached out his fingers before his eyes and began counting. "Twenty years... It has been twenty years since..." whispered Okina aloud and paused for a while as bitterness washed over his heart. Slowly, he continued, "If Ichiro-chan was still alive today, he would be four times older than this boy... Why did he have to die so early? Kami-sama is so unfair to me..." He inhaled deeply and snapped open his eyes. "Aoshi looks a lot like him..." *Maybe I have committed too many sins in this life to receive such a fate with my only son dead.* Okina refocused his attention on the boy. "Little boy, I like you at first sight. I'll make sure that you get an audience with Okashira." --------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright reserved 1999 W. Siew Lee All standard Rurouni Kenshin disclaimers apply to this fanfic. Author's notes: 1. Japanese people are 1 year older from their western birthdates traditionally. So, I have followed the biodata from an old issue of Shounen Jump and added *one* year extra to their original ages (provided that I count properly). =) I don't know how accurate the bios are, but please do correct me if I made mistake anywhere. 2. Since Aoshi and gang are ex-agents of the Tokugawa shogunate, I have every reason to believe that they are still practising stuff that the Meiji government tried to eliminate. Eg. Buddhism, and that's where that abandoned temple comes in with Aoshi praying for his kaasan. ^_^ 3. Er, I know Aoshi is *very* OOC (it's by intention) and I want to shape him slowly into that emotionless fellow we see today. He's going to be full of emotions until that part when he... Er, I don't want to give spoilers anyway. Glossary: nezumi: rat ::evil grin:: Siew Lee - 14th of July, 1999 E-mail: Siew Lee [wsiewlee@tm.net.my] URL: http://members.dencity.com/hiei UIN: #14025577 --------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------- ONElist Sponsor ---------------------------- Your anytime, anywhere sports store. Fogdog Sports. Click Here ------------------------------------------------------------------------