Is...is this really--? (Looks around at white scenery) Can it be?!
YESSS!!!! I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVE!!!!
I'm back ladies and gentlemen. And as I was reading someone else's summary, they gave me the perfect quote for today: "Contrary to popular belief, I'm not dead!"
Everyone, I just want to formally apologze for the ABSURD amount of time an update has taken me. I will probably post another chapter of this before I post the next chapter of Pay Attention, Class because, well, it's just not written yet.
So, Instead, I am at last granting the wish of the public and writing the sequel to Rended.
Here it is folks. The First Chapter. But I must warn you, trying to keep up with school (9th AND 10th grade), violin, and teaching is just a pain in the you-know-what when it comes to fanfiction productivity. So keep reviewing and bugging me to update, and I just might. Heeheehee...
Oh, and also I have changed the timeline. Kenshin was not, in fact, sixteen when the war was over, (you were right), so just ignore the screwup and accept that he is now nineteen years old. Enjoy!
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The new era.
It had come so...unexpectedly for most. The newest soldiers for the Shogunate had already been sent home after being in training for two full weeks. Some of the more experienced soldiers had been kept on as bodyguards and the like. Others were allowed to return home to their loved ones.
Some were disappointed, others were relieved.
And some were taking it... hard.
Once you are a warrior fighting for the cause, you devote yourself to it. So what happens when you are suddenly no longer needed after all those years?
What do people think of you? How do they see you?...
...And how do you see yourself...?
Rended 2: Ishin's Travels
Kyoto. Four months after the defeat of the Tokugawa regime.
It was bright. Almost blinding.
He wasn't used to seeing it like this; at first he'd almost failed to recognize the city. He felt a hand fall comfortingly onto his left shoulder, warm through the fabric. Even though he knew who it was he still had to stifle the automatic urge to shy away from contact.
A low, masculine voice questioned him gently. "Are you sure about this? I won't force you."
"We already reached our decision. We don't have any other choice."
Haiyashii nodded, watching the boy's solemn-faced reaction as he gazed at the familiar, yet unfamiliar, crowded street. The two stood cloaked in the shadow of a large plum tree, just outside the city gates. The leaves were full and ripe on the tree's branches, a luscious, live green blocking out the sun. The blossoms had already fallen, as it was a bit later in the year, but their deep, sweet fragrance still hung suspended in the air.
Himura was glad to see the cold gone; the biting snow had been too eager to return him to darker times. But on occasion the warmth made him dizzy, as did the shocking white sun. He was so used to night, so used to shadows.
Still, it was good to see the beautiful city and it's people. He remembered times when he'd leaned against an alley wall and watched the children in the square, playing, laughing, happy. It would encourage him and remind him of why he did what he did, why so many had to be sacrificed to the gluttonous god of war.
A sudden picture sprung to his mind's eye as he breathed in slowly and deeply, of a woman standing quietly under an awning, dressed in white, watching as the Shinsengumi passed in their bright blue and white uniforms, saya glistening in the sunlight.
Others followed, less bright and beautiful, spattered with blood and glistening in moonlight.
Himura shook his head slightly to rid himself of the images, emphasizing the unusual trait of his fire-colored tresses by flicking the high topknot.
Haiyashii tightened his grip slightly on his companion's shoulder. He knew it made him uncomfortable being out here in the open, completely exposed without even a bandage over the conspicuous X mark on his face.
It was something new to him to be seen. Something he didn't like.
The former captain had barely been able to convince him of the necessity of staying in the town, but after a few hours of intense conversation, they came to an agreement. Being a wanderer really didn't make much money, and the only place they would be shown hospitality was at a place where they were well-known and accepted.
And of course, the only place they would be well-known and accepted was at the government headquarters in Kyoto.
Drawing in another deep breath, the former hitokiri motioned for them to go.
Finally uncovered from the darkness under the tree, it was easy to see why
the two drew so many stares. Himura's black, stained gi and dark hakama did
nothing to divert attention, not while his saya and bright orange-red hair
caught the sunlight like jewels. Haiyashii's red gi was somewhat dulled from
dirt, but since it was obviously military issue and since he towered almost
two full heads above the boy, the former captain was receiving almost as
many open-mouthed looks as Himura.
The two had been travelling outdoors for more than three of the four months after the war. After his attempted suicide, Himura had needed time to recover, so travel had not begun immediately. Even now the wound was affecting him, though he always hid it when a twinge from his left side or a sudden wave of dizziness swept through his body. It was hard to recover on so little food and shelter as they'd had for the past few months, and the grueling miles didn't exactly help either.
Haiyashii had watched him like a hawk--or a mother hen--for the first two months, but after that he'd seemed to have recovered, what with the opening to the injury having closed and color--well, as much color as Himura normally had, anyway--returned to his features.
As the two weaved their way through the stream of passersby, the boy watched the people's faces, examining them from the inside out without seeming too interested. Most turned away as soon as possible, uncomfortable at being studied with such strange, piercing eyes. Behind them people parted like water in the wake of a frigate, stopping and whispering amongst themselves:
"Who are they?"
"I've never seen them before."
"Outsiders--"
"That man's a soldier. What's he doing here?"
"Hey. Look at that--"
"Is he that kid's bodyguard?"
"The boy has a sword. He must be military, too."
"Hmm. He looks familiar."
"Look at that hair."
"Something's not right with those two--"
"Shouldn't be here--"
The captain cast a look behind them and the whispers ceased. Himura ignored them. He hadn't expected a warm reception. A few children tried to stop and stare, but they were quickly dragged away by worried parents. Soon the two men were approaching the wall, and the guards on duty in front of it.
The first guard was sagging against the wall lazily, the top button of his blue uniform undone, fanning himself with a leaf, looking bored and hot and tired like an experienced guard who's been standing there all morning does. The second was a younger man who, aside from looking tired, was standing straight and tall at attention, as he'd probably been taught in his training. He only looked about eighteen. Maybe younger.
But when Himura and the captain approached the entrance in plain sight from the parting of the skittish crowd, both of them had their eyes fixed on the two new men. The first guard picked up his katana and unsheathed it, while the second simply put a hand on the hilt and eyed them warily. The older man spoke up.
"Hey, you two. What are you doing here?" he asked, sneering. "You're early. All new recruits weren't supposed to come until next month."
"We're not recruits," Haiyashii explained politely. "We simply need a place to stay. You see we've been travelling for months, and we--"
"--Then you may as well leave right now," he interrupted. "You won't get anywhere in this town with that on your waist." He indicated the boy behind him with a thrust of his chin. "There's a sword restriction on. You either give that up or I can arrest you right now."
"Oh, really? A sword restriction. I suppose that's a wise policy, especially now. Well, he has permission from Katsura Kogoro to carry that, though unless we get inside to see him I guess that's kind of impossible to back up," he said thoughtfully.
"Hey, for all I know you two are thieves and cutthroats wanted by Katsura," the other man spat. "Hand over the sword and go."
Himura, who had kept silent and uninvolved up 'til now, slowly stepped up until he was face to face with the man. He blinked, figeting uncomfortably as the kid stared up at him with bright yellow eyes. After studying him for a few long moments, he turned away with an expression that said this man wasn't worth his time.
"We aren't new recruits. You don't have to worry about losing your post unless you provoke us further."
The guard's face screwed up in anger, flushing red. "Why you--"
The boy ignored him and walked over to the younger guard who, at that point, had backed up against the far wall.
He was trembling.
"S-stay away," he stammered. "P-please, just s-s-stay away from me..."
He advanced until the petrified man was pressing back on the stone to get away. Himura watched him closely, noting that he kept his hands as far away from the hilt of his sword as possible.
Almost as if he didn't want to appear a threat. Like staying still when a hungry tiger had its eye on you.
"You know who I am," Himura half-said, half-inquired.
The boy swallowed, his eyes steadily fixed on the other's. "Yes, I know who you are," he managed. "Please, he doesn't know, he doesn't know what he's doing. J-just leave him alone, don't...don't..."
Himura put his face so close to the other man's he could feel his breathing. The hitokiri's eyes were red-rimmed. "You're afraid of me." He didn't sound happy, like the boy had expected him too. Nor did he sound sad.
Just very, very tired.
The guard's eyes were questioning but no less careful. "Ye...yes."
"Why?" The boy released him and stepped back a few feet. His expression wasn't warm, he didn't smile. But his eyes were soft. Soft enough for the man to give him an answer.
"I should think you'd know. Everyone here knows your name," he said warily. "You're the Hitokiri Battousai."
At that point the other guard was the one shrinking away. He looked like he was ready to commit ritual suicide, his face having taken on the pale sheen of a dead fish.
"My name...is behind me now." The younger guard looked startled, lifting his head to meet the other's gaze.
The boy gave a slight smile. "Call me Himura. That is my name."
With one last glance in the older guard's direction he motioned with a tilt of his head and a glance that he and Haiyashii should proceed. The captain glared at the rude man but bowed and followed obediently, falling into step behind him.
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Don't worry, later chapters get a whole lot more interesting.
Yes, he is going to get bullied for not rejoining as a soldier, and yes, lots of
angst. I love it, it's syrup for my pancakes.
But no, I DO NOT hate Ken-ni. If you're a hard core fanficcer or anime buff you know what I'm talking about.
Anyway, there will be nightmare scenes, a Tomoe's gravesite visitation, and girls-catch-him-inn-the-shower (or rather waterfall) scene, and a bunch of cute playing-with-kids scenes. Plus, as a bonus, at the very end, everyone will get to see how kick-butt our dear little Ken-ni chan really is. So stick around and stay with me folks, this could get interesting...
What am I talking about?! This WILL get interesting! Noww, please be a good little fanficcer and review? You have no CLUE how happy you'd make me. (Even though I don't deserve it...No updates for Emiri-chan since LAST YEAR...WAAAAAAAAAAAAAA---)
^_^X