Burden of a Samurai

Summary: There was one woman that he had given his heart to...and that woman was the only woman he couldn't protect...but what happens when the woman he thought was dead re-enters his life.

Pairing: Kagome/Kenshin

Rating: M

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Chapter One

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Kagome closed her eyes as she tilted her head back, her face pointed up at the crying sky, she couldn't believe what happened. She couldn't believe that they were gone...that she couldn't do anything to save them when they had needed her.

"...why..." Kagome silently asked the sky as the rain came down, as if crying the tears she could no longer cry anymore.

She looked at the bloody battlefield, wanting it to go away. Kagome knew it wouldn't though...it really had happened.

They were all dead.

Her friends were no more, and their mission still wasn't done.

The jewel was still not whole.

Naraku still wasn't dead...but she also knew she wasn't strong enough to fight him on her own.

Even now she was still too weak.

Eyes still closed, she fell to her knees, her body shaking as blood and rainwater soaked her tattered and torn hamakas. Dry heaving sobs escaped her as she curled in on herself, her fingers digging into the cold mushy earth beneath her, the cold rain pelting her hunched over back.

Why.

Why?

Why?!

Anger bubbled to life, churning and curling though her small trembling form, easily replacing the pain and sorrow.

"Why?!" Her voice was a shrill hysteric cry but she was past the point of caring. They had gone through so much, trained so hard and still it wasn't enough! Years had been given up in pursuit of the evil hanyou, Miroku had run out of time long before this day. Sango had done her best to carry on without him and yet she had never fully recovered.

Her soul was tired, crying out for its other half, it slowly ate away at her until she was nothing more than a husk of her former self. An avenger seeking revenge for a family and a love stolen, it had been her downfall.

Inuyasha had finally matured, letting go of everything that had held him back from moving forward in life. No longer hung up on a love lost nor a childhood of judgement and prejudices. He had finally begun accepting himself for who and what he was.

He had made leaps and bounds under his brother's tutelage.

And it still wasn't enough...

She was borderline hyperventilating now, her skin pale as alabaster and cold as ice as the rain poured down, letting it numb the pain of the various wounds that littered her body.

She should be with them, she should have already drawn her last breath yet here she was.

Left behind again.

Why, why was she always left behind?

She had given up her life in the future, her family and friends to right her wrongs. She had given up her first love allowing him to be truly free to become a better man. She threw herself into training, going as far as to seek out Kikyo and submit to her teachings. In the end they had come to an understanding and had the undead miko not been stuck down by Naraku in an attempt to weaken Inuyasha she knew they could have one day been friends.

Naraku had taken that away from them as well. He was always taking, taking, taking!

Four years she had given in pursuit of the evil half demon following his trail of pain and destruction all over Japan. Always one day late and one step behind.

"Why?" The word was a low broken whisper, the rage that had been churning inside of her fizzled out just as quickly as it had appeared. Leaving behind a numb hollow feeling. Numb hands let go of the wet earth to wrap around shaking shoulders, the fingers numb and the tips blue. Hugging herself she pressed her forehead into the damp cold earth.

She was so tired, so very tired...

If she just sat here then maybe she would be able to join her friends...

So caught up in her inner turmoil she did not notice the two figures who cautiously approached the battlefield drawn in by the scent of blood and the aura of absolute despair.

Hiko Seijuro had seen many things in his life, countless battlefields, rivers of blood and mountains of bodies yet there was something about this battlefield that was off. It rubbed against his senses in all the wrong ways. So as he and his idiot apprentice walked through the carnage he could only furrow his eyebrows at the small shivering figure sitting in the middle of it.

Clad in white and red he knew immediately that she was a miko and judging by her wounds he knew why this particular battlefield felt so very wrong.

Youkai.

He wasn't daft, he knew they were real, though they had gone into hiding as the westerns started to come to their homeland bringing with them more and more advanced weaponry. He had faced a few in his days but it had been so long since he had seen a hint of them. Now he was standing in a field littered with their carcasses and blood.

Sighing, his breath a visible white cloud due to the cold temperature, he stared down at the broken miko awe floating in his eyes. This miko had faced an army and had lived to tell the tale and while it looked to be a sorrowful one he was curious. Glancing at his idiotic apprentice he was disappointed to see a look of indifference. The young man might be physically sixteen years of age but mentally and emotionally he was a hardened old man.

Already tired of what life had to offer him.

Gears began turning in his head, plans forming as he weighed pros and cons. Eventually he sighed his mind made up. With a few strides of his long legs he towered above her small shivering figure, his umbrella shielding them both from the pouring rain.

She showed no reaction, she merely sat there her body trembling as it slowly began to shut down due to the blood loss and chill of the air. Shooting the redhead next to him a look he could only smirk as violet eyes briefly flashed with irritation as he kneeled next to the cowering woman, his own umbrella held in one hand as the other reached out with uncertainty.

"Ano, miss?" His voice was light as he gently allowed his hand to touch her shoulder. He hissed as he drew his hand back as if burned. Her very skin looked and felt like marble and even through her soaked robes he could feel her body radiate coldness. Just how long had she been sitting here? Reaching out again, after a pointed look from his master, he curled his fingers in the cloth covering her shoulder giving her a light shake.

She gave a low shuddering breath but did not do anything else. Frowning he let his umbrella fall to the ground, his hair plastering to his face as he was pelted by the cold rain, his master's umbrella only covering himself and the small woman. "Miss?" He snaked one hand under her chin and shifted her head so he could look down at her face. Cursing he turned to his master for instruction.

The young woman had passed out, her breathing was shallow as evidence of a fever dusted across the bridge of her nose and the swells of her cheeks.

Hiko Seijuro could only sigh as his dumbstruck apprentice gazed up at him as if asking what he should do. "Well don't just stand there Kenshin, pick her up. We'll take her back with us." With that he turned his back on him and began to lead the way back towards the small village they were staying in for the time being. A small smirk lining his lips as he heard Kenshin give a sigh and fumbled about to gather the small woman in his arms and pick up his fallen umbrella.

Sure he could help the younger man, but that would make things far too easy. What kind of master would he be if he always ran to his apprentices aid? Not a very good one.

Besides whether or not Kenshin knew it he was helping him. He was not a religious man but even he could not deny that the gods, the fates, or whatever you wished to call them, had arranged this meeting for a reason and who was to foil their plots and schemes?