Rain of Blood
-revised-
Standard disclaimers apply, I don't own RK.
Chapter One
In the Midst of Pouring Rain
She looked past her shoulders worriedly; there was no one behind her.
Kaoru Kamiya stumbled in the midst of pouring rain. Damp locks of dark hair covered her pale features and the horror in her eyes glistened under the thundering sky, the violet kimono she wore clung to her frail, shivering form stubbornly when she wobbled. Mud splashed on her white legs as she tried to quick her unsteady pace. She panted and coughed, eyes searching around impatient to find out where she was. Blood flowed from the deep gashes up her thigh, leaving trails of thick red liquid down to her ankle; she was too occupied to notice that.
Run. Her mind screamed. Move, legs, move!
Her feet were numb and she couldn't command them the way she wanted to, knowing her strength was slipping away she unexpectedly bumped into something causing her to fall downwards toward the mud with a heavy splash. She cried out abruptly as she clutched her wound, blood seeping through her pale fingers slowly.
Then she heard panting. Kaoru lifted her head weakly, blinking her eyes as the rain danced on her face. A man was standing above her; he had the most unusual crimson hair that stood out under the murky sky, his face was shadowed but she knew he had been running too. He was alone, towering above like a statue. Mud splattered on his white hakama, but there was something else. Her heart thumped as she made out the silver weapon in his hand. The tip of it was dripping with the color that was painfully all too familiar.
The man had everything she had spent running away from, now the blood, the sword, the killing aura and his presence all splashed over her like a wave of nightmare.
She tried to stand up, only to fall down again. Pain overtook her senses as her head tilted up, staring at the dangerous man with her daring blue orbs.
"You," Kaoru uttered, "You made the rain of blood fall." With that, she closed her eyes and her world went black.
When he felt something hit him abruptly he was irritated.
The night had gone more complex than he originally thought as he peered over his shoulder to make sure on one followed him. His hand throbbed and he held his katana tightly, urgency pounding in his veins as he fled. He knew he was against the wind and rain, every inch of his muscle whammed against the slitting sensation uninvitingly. Droplets of rain poured on his face soaking him to the bone; it may wash away the blood but not his sin.
His own heavy footsteps were mingled with someone else's, he noticed quickly. Darting his eyes left to right he cursed the maddening rain inwardly. They were making things harder to see. The more he ran, the closer the foreign footsteps got. He gripped his sword and prepared to meet whatever was coming. Surprisingly, a young woman chose that moment to bump into him.
He skidded to a halt completely as he saw the girl crashed down onto the muddy ground. Wisps of raven hair clung to her pale cheeks as she yelped, her hands grasping a particular spot on her upper thigh. Red liquid leaked from her trembling fingers, she was injured badly.
He saw her head lifting toward him, and he stared down at her. The blackness of her hair clashed with the pallor of her perfect oval shaped face. Her lips had gone purple but she refused to tremble. Streams of crimson blended with muddy water where she landed, but her long eyelashes fluttered to the object he held in his hand.
His eyes fell on the sword too. The glistening silver, bounded by souls he slaughtered mercilessly. The tip of the steel trickled with blood, the liquid never seemed to cease.
"You," he heard her spoke, "You made the rain of blood fall."
And she fainted in front of his amber eyes. He took a step back, surprised at her reaction.
If he didn't do something about her wounds, she would surely bleed to death within ten minutes. He frowned slightly while questions rushed through his mind. Did she know who he was? She didn't look frightened when she saw him; instead, her blue orbs looked shockingly demanding. Was she too naïve or was she just plain stupid? What was a girl like her, injured at the middle of night, running away from?
"He went that way!" Angry shouts roared from behind. He glanced past his shoulder and heard footsteps ascending. He looked down at the limp form, debating with himself. His eyes glimpsed over her wounds, she was breathing feebly like a ragged doll. A few seconds of splattering rain and wavering footsteps passed until he heaved a sigh of frustration, sheathed his sword with a snap and picked the girl up.
With a last look around his surroundings, the Legendary Hitokiri Battousai disappeared in the rain at a blink of an eye.
Kaoru was peering into darkness, her heart thumped by a terrible feeling of dread. Her mother held onto her body protectively, she could feel her trembling hands as she pulled her closer.
"Be brave Kaoru, be brave." She heard her mother whisper.
Kaoru's eyes widened at the sudden scream on the other side of the room, her mother gasped and tightened her grip on Kaoru when the paper door was torn apart by a glistening sword. To her utter horror, she saw a recognizable body that lied across the corridor in a twisted way; pools of blood blinded her eyes as she saw the face that belonged to her father, eyes rolled up, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. She found herself screaming, losing her sanity as tears battered down her cheeks and she wailed, clutching to her mother desperately refusing to accept. A man emerged from the shadows, his bloodied sword hanging at his side.
"You." She heard her mother's strangled voice. "Why are you doing this?"
The man didn't reply. He walked toward them in a slow, unbearable pace. Kaoru felt her mother let go and she struggled her eyes open to see her standing between the man and herself.
"No," Kaoru prayed.
"I will not let you touch my daughter." Firm, strong.
"No…"
The man held up his sword, preparing to strike.
"NO!"
The girl whimpered as Battousai laid her down on the futon, her eyebrows were knotted together in a tight frown, beads of sweat formed on her bruised forehead as her face contorted into fear and regret. He kept his silence, listening to her short, rapid panting for a moment. Then he sat down beside her cross-legged with his sword leaning against his shoulder.
"No… please…"
His eyes narrowed when he heard her whimper once more, he could sense pain in her mutterings and he wondered what she was seeing behind those closed eyelids.
"Don't hurt them…"
He knew what nightmares were like, how they crept mutely into your mind, murdering their way to the core of your heart and took away the slightest shimmer that lingered there. They were like unstoppable plagues; the more you tried to erase them the deeper they plant into your conscious, leaving a tattered and damaged soul under their spell.
The girl's hand found its way gripping onto his hakama without him noticing, tossing her head left to right her chest rose up and down unhappily. Battousai watched her behind shadowed red bangs; she was too young to be haunted by nightmares. She was not like him; her hands were not stained nor were her innocence. He scooped her hand away from his tainted hakama, but her hand only clenched onto his fingers persistently and refused to let go. He paused, feeling the quivers she sent. Then, he simply lifted his other hand and placed it on her burning forehead. His palm felt cold compared to her heated skin. He waited; gradually her breathing no longer came in short, rapid gasps and the frown she wore faded. Her hand was loosing its strength on his fingers and he let it slid down slowly onto the futon.
He stared down at the girl with his amber eyes, knowing she was no longer weighed by nightmares. His hand on her forehead still stayed at its place to make sure. He found himself studying her.
He remembered the look in her blue orbs when she craned her neck up to meet his face under the rain. He was merely surprised when he didn't see fear swimming in those bottomless eyes. Unlike other people, they reflected a tinge of anger. Perhaps he realized he couldn't tore his eyes away from her that moment, a noise at the back of his mind told him he couldn't just leave her there. Not knowing where else to take her, plus bad weather conditions he ended up standing at the entrance of his quarters carrying a wounded girl in his arms.
It was not the brightest idea, he remarked to himself.
There was something about this girl. Something he had not known before. He sighed. This girl would be a problem. Damn the voices at the back of his mind. Damn the weather. His lips thinned into a grim line. Damn himself for being so considerate.
Tomorrow, he retrieved his hand from the sleeping form quietly, tomorrow she leaves.
Satisfied at his final thoughts, he found a spot leaning against a wall and closed his eyes briefly, allowing the moment for him to actually relax.
The last thing he remembered were the wisps of raven-dark hair before he dozed off into a light sleep, with only the two of them in the room.
Sorry people…I decided to revise my first chapter first! What do you think of it? I think it's better than the one I wrote before… and maybe a bit more reasonable?
I'm back on track! Tell me if it's better! YOU guys are the reason why I didn't give up on this fic!