Disclaimer: Once upon a time in a kingdom far-far away there lived a demented elf who kidnapped Himura Kenshin and locked him in her basement. This elf was content with her redheaded hitokiri and entertained numerous plans involving the hapless rurouni that would satisfy her own devious nature. However, these plans came to an abrupt halt when a certain Tanuki-like kenjustsu instructor beat the said elf into near oblivion. This elf no longer owns Rurouni Kenshin, please don't sue.

Italics character thoughts

Bold Italics past conversation being remembered

Crimson Tide

Chapter 1: Lingering Shadows

"Open your eyes."

She sat there in white, the folds of her kimono pooling on the bleached wood beneath her. She was the image of majestic grace, the epiphany of sorrow.

"Do you see the crane?"

The moonlight cast distorted rays through the rice paper, deepening the shadows of the woman's face. Her hair was knotted tightly at the base of her nape and her hands were folded placidly in her lap. She sat in front of a small family shrine that held the thin tanto, its blade a dull gleam in the moonlight.

"Why is it struggling?"

"One of its wings is broken"

Her gaze remained fixed on the steel before her. She could hear the muffled noise of footsteps circling the perimeter of the building. They were coming; they were here to end her life. At age thirty-two she was going to die.

"Can't we help it?"

"No. Its fate has already been determined. This is its final dance… a dance of death."

She was the bird, stretching her white clad arms forward with unseen hands. Wings fluttering erratically she brushed feathery touches against the blade before firmly grasping it. Lost under the voluminous folds of her sleeves she perched between two worlds, a test of her quiet strength, her decision to forgo such fleshly realms. Craning her neck forward she could hear the predators. The footsteps were growing closer.

"See how it stretches its wing to the sky…"

Their muffled voices becoming tangible whispers from the shadows. Urging her flight onwards. All had bee lost, her body was nothing more than an empty shell. Extending her wings forward she teetered helplessly between indecision, grounded against ever soaring the sky again. There was nothing left.

"…its soul has already flown away. It is trying to catch it…"

She could feel the pressure of the blade against the gentle swell of her breast, its presence warm and comforting. She would hold her fate with the tenderness of a lover. She would not be afraid.

"…trying to reach it."

With a small smile she enfolded the dagger into a desperate embrace, comforted in the knowledge that her task was done. With a fluid grace that only death could give she turned her face towards the opening shoji door.

"The bird doesn't know…"

The shadows danced closer, their eyes illuminated with rage. "Tell Reijirou…" she slumped forward "…that his revenge has failed." Broken, she crumpled to the floor, her shattered wing limply grasping the dagger.

"…its already dead."

--

Kurosawa Noboru glared reproachfully at the dead woman in the room before him. Her once pristine white kimono was rapidly becoming soaked in crimson liquid that continued to spread away from the hilt of the tanto embedded in her heart. Her navy obi covered with white cranes lay discarded by her crumpled form. She must have taken it off before she committed suicide. He was no fool. She was wearing funeral garb.

"Fuck." He cursed bitterly. Noboru knew he was in deep shit. Reijirou had wanted to make an example out of this woman, a woman who was the last of the noble bloodline Masanori. Noboru hadn't gotten here fast enough. The wench had already seen what was coming and had chosen death instead. Reijirou was going to kill him for this, if Daisuke didn't kill him first.

"Masanori Haruhime you bitch." He spat at the dead noblewoman.

"Should we finish the ritual for her?" A stocky man in his mid thirties addressed Noboru.

Noboru snorted. "I would honor a beggar's committing seppuku before I would that wench. Don't even bother to slit her throat. The whore doesn't deserve an honorable death"

Turning from his companion Noboru begin ordering those around him. They still had to drag Haruhime's carcass back to Reijirou before daybreak.

Damn it! He swore to himself Nothing is going as planed.

--

Sanosuke felt like shit.

The very road before him seemed rise and fall with unseen breathes, leaving the former Sekihoutai member grasping for handholds in the air.

Leaning into the frame of the narrow housing unit he peered blindly into the blackened street before him, the shallow wheezing of his lungs the only sound in the stillness.

Four more houses down. Fuck. I'm not going to make it.

Since when had his luck turned sour? Lurching forward, Segara Sanosuke attempted to make his way across the ever-shifting street.

He had been gambling at the Kuroiwa, determined to test whether Fortune's benevolence was bestowed more freely in Kyoto. For a while he actually believed his deduction to be correct. To say he experienced sheer euphoria in the Kuroiwa would be an understatement. In the smoky haze of the gambling hall the dice seemed to be cast in a never-ending succession of high throws. Guzzling sake he remembered the laughter, the red faces, and most importantly the money. He was invincible, untouched by the allotment of fate, jovial to a point that bordered on sheer lunacy.

He hated when people screwed with him.

He grasped the doorframe of the house he had been searching for, attempting to suppress the feeling of relief as he caught sight of the soft illumination of a lamp that promised his favorite doctor was within.

"Oi! Are you going to show your kitsune face or do I have to break the door down?!" Sano slurred gruffly as he felt his chest constrict tightly.

He couldn't breathe.

The voice of the "fox" woman snapped irritably from the shadows as the door was yanked roughly open. "Just what do you think you're doing in Kyoto you dumb tori-ama! Did you come here just to an…" Megumi started when she caught sight of the man before her. "Sano… you've been drugged!"

"Tell me something I don't know." Sanosuke rasped painfully before collapsing.

--

The dim lighting in the room made Getsu Shohei's eyes ach with a delicate throb. Drumming his fingers softly against his forehead, he continued to pour over the record books before him.

When he had offered his services to keep the accounts and records in order and make sure no one was trying to pull a fast one over Reijirou's numerous finances he had never imagined he would have been taken up on such an offer. After all, he was only nineteen and fairly new to this specific enterprise of the Kaientai.

He was beginning to regret making that offer.

How was he to know there would be this much late night reading? Despite his pride at being selected for such an important task, reading in such poor lighting conditions could hardly be good for him. He suspected his eyesight was going. Still, regardless of the lack adequate lighting he wasn't mistaken on what he had just read.

The implications were staggering.

Quickly scanning the line again he inhaled sharply. No, there was no mistake. Shocked at what he had unknowingly uncovered, he gently traced his fingers over the offending kanji.

Shanghai

"Someone is going to lose their life for this." Shohei murmured softly.

"Unfortunately, that someone is you."

Shohei reared back as if bitten. How had he not noticed Iwao's entrance into the room?

"Higashido-san…" panic seeped into his voice "I did not hear you enter."

Higashido Iwao's only response was to step forward, the candlelight glinting off the daisho firmly secured to his hakama.

"You know Reijirou will kill you for hiding this." Shohei's long tapered fingers clutched the offending piece of paper to his breast. "You are being used!" He hissed.

Within one swift motion Shohei suddenly found himself staring blankly at the wakizashi embedded in his throat. Opening his lips in surprise a sobbing gurgle escaped his mouth before limply slumping over.

Retrieving his wakizashi from the dead boy's throat Iwao cleaned the blade with a snap of his wrist before responding blankly.

"It's too late now."

--

The road to the west of Kyoto was deserted. The bustling hubbub of those entering and leaving the city was absent in the hanging air. The figures of travelers and the imprints of their sandals carved in the dust had all faded away in the dying light. Only the tall silhouette of a man was left, a dark bruise steadily moving against the now paling sky.

The Oniwabanshuu's Okashira had returned to Kyoto.

After being absent from the Aoiya for over a week, Shinomori Aoshi had finally left the secluded shrine nestled in the mountains he frequented to meditate in. Aware of his duties to the rest of the Oniwabanshuu, Aoshi never lingered to long away from his surrogate family. After all, Kyoto was a dangerous place.

Taking long decisive strides, Aoshi's face remained emotionless as he continued down the dusty road. To the casual observer, his countenance was utterly unreadable, masking whatever thoughts played through his mind.

There were, however, those who could read such masks.

"Thinking of the Aoiya, Shinomori-san?"

If Aoshi had been startled by the question he did not show it. His cool countenance in place, Aoshi merely grunted at the youth who seemed to have melted from the shadows.

"They say that Battousai broke you." Aoshi stated.

"I could say the same of you, Shinomori-san."

"You could." Aoshi let his gaze flicker over towards the young man now walking beside him. "You seem different."

"Himura-san has that affect on people." The youth's face contorted into a twisted ruminate of a smile that could only be described as grotesque. "Sometimes I contemplate whether it is for the best."

"You wish to see him" his declaration a stated fact rather than a question.

"Yes"

"He is at the Aoiya with the others."

The youth walking beside him merely nodded.

Aoshi's stoic expression never wavered. He regarded the young man before him with a critical eye, contemplating his tormented form. The very smile that had always before masked the boy's features was disfigured, spread thinly across his face in a taunt line. Seta Soujirou, the tormented Tenkan was truly broken.

"You may come with me."

It was only then, at that instant, that a flicker a genuine smile traced the contours of the boy's face.

--

::hypnosis voice:: You want to leave a review…you will leave a review…you love my fanfic…

Author's Notes: I, as previously stated don't own the Kenshin-gumi. However, I do own Masanori Haruhime, Kurosawa Noboru, Naosawa Daisuke, Getsu Shohei, Higashido Iwao and Takechi Reijirou. This story will adhere to the Rurouni Kenshin cannon and is placed somewhere between the end of the Kyoto arch and the beginning of the Revenge arch. I have tried to make this as historically accurate as possible and have spent at least four months on background research. I will try to avoid Japanese words, but the words I do use (Japanese honorifics are to complicated to be translated and fully express the different levels of politeness) I will list in the glossary below. As always, R&R is greatly appreciated.

Historical Note: Noble women could also commit seppuku (ritual suicide), but this was usually done by slashing the throat with a small knife, or stabbing into the heart with a sharp hair-pin or a knife.

Glossary:

a.Sama - Can mean master, lord, or the speaker's Superior in terms of being a direct inferior/servant/rank in the military of the one being addressed.

b.San - Connotes a politeness, and mild formality, like Ms. or Mr., usually applied with acquaintances, new or otherwise.

c.Dono - Much more formal than "san". It's also Ms. or Mr., but this can connote that the one speaking is inferior to the one being addressed but not directly under his/her command.

d.Chan - Connotes familiarity. Used between friends, usually among girls. Girls can also address men this way, but then they would have to have a very personal relationship with the man, like a boyfriend, or a cousin, or a friend since childhood, or a brother, etc.

e.Kun - Men use this to address younger men, or those of lower rank to them. Men may sometimes use this to address a woman who is known to be of lower rank than him, like in the military, or a man who is the woman's mentor. Women also use this to address men/boys who are younger than them, or men/boys whom they regard affectionately.

f.Tenkan – Sword of Heaven

g.Gi and Hakama – Robe top and pants, respectively. The Samurai way.

h.Tanto - A Japanese blade or small sword. It is a smaller version of the Katana, with a blade length of about 15 - 30 cm (6" - 12").

i.Kitsune – Fox. Saitoh and Sano's nickname for Megumi.

j.tori-ama – Rooster head. Megumi's nickname for Sanosuke.

k.wakizashi - Traditional Japanese sword with a shoto blade between 12 and 24 inches (between 30 and 60 cm, with an average of 50 cm), similar to but shorter than a katana.

l.daisho - Traditional arms of the samurai, composed of katana and wakizashi.