Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ A Burning Wish: Finding Himura-san ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Author's Note: Hello everyone! Wasn't going to put this up here because I never get reviews but I thought I would anyway since ff.net is currently out of action. Enjoy!
 
 
 
A Burning Wish: Finding Himura-san
 
 
 
13th February 1868: Two weeks after the Battle of Toba-Fushimi
 
 
 
Chapter One:
 
The sun sparkled gently upon the world, shedding its light for all no matter whom they were; hitokiri or ordinary man alike. It was truly a blessing, lighting up the world and revealing it in all its splendour, truth and life.
 
Though a beautiful sight it was, it did nothing to comfort one person; a young man, a ronin, slowly dragging his feet up the road, head bowed and blind to everything but his own mind…his own, torturous mind and its screaming voices.
 
His slumped figure was one of abject misery and other travellers who passed him on the road frowned in concern at the red haired youth but didn't dare approach. How could they when the sword at his waist and the scar, half hidden in his hair, clearly told them who this man was and what was the cause of his absolute misery. Some, on seeing this, hardened their hearts and turned away. Whatever he was going through he deserved it and others still, glared with fury upon recognising him but stayed their hands, knowing exactly what this particular ronin was capable of.
 
Not that Himura Kenshin expected their sympathy. Far from it. If he'd had his way he would have ended this a long time ago but then…he had promised her, hadn't he.
 
He'd promised her as she lay dying in his arms, her blood flowing from her body out onto the snow; her blood which wouldn't have been flowing if it weren't for him.
 
He clenched his fists in self loathing. How could he have been so stupid? Why hadn't he listened to her? To Tomoe? To his Shishou who had told him this was exactly what would happen?
 
Since the day he'd made that promise he'd pushed her as far from his mind as possible. He'd become numb; determined to finish this bloody war and be on his way. Away from this war he never should have entered, just as his Shishou had said.
 
And now? Now the war was over and he was nothing more than a wanderer with no trade to his name except that of a hitokiri. How could he expect to survive in this world? To fulfil his vow and continue living for her each and every day? He had no purpose other than that. He had nowhere to go, no one to talk to, no one to share in the pain he'd brought upon himself.
 
And worst of all, he was alone with his thoughts. Alone with the knowledge of his actions and no real clue as to what had become of his soul. He felt sick, terribly sick and so very tired.
 
Without further ado, Kenshin lurched to the side of the road and vomited into the grass. He continued to heave until his body could expel nothing else and finally he sat heavily in the dust, gasping and shaking like a leaf.
 
Two weeks…two weeks since he'd left the battlefield behind and entered his own personal hell. He doubted if the real one could be any worse.
 
Finally his body seemed to bring itself under control and he was able to return to his feet, still a bit pale and grateful he'd been given the mercy that no other travellers had been around to see his embarrassing display. Not that it was any less than he deserved. He was rather surprised at his luck if he were honest with himself.
 
Wiping his mouth of the corner of his sleeve, he set off once more, albeit a bit more shakily than the first time.
 
If memory served true, there was a small village coming up soon where he'd hopefully be able to get a meal and with any luck, enough sake to put him under for the rest of the week. Not that he truly wanted to taste the bitter liquid and his stomach heaved at the thought of food but he needed to keep his strength up and the sake at least, would allow him a little time to forget this whole mess.
 
Yes, forget. Some might call it a coward's way but he didn't think he could go on unless he had some reprieve from his own, maddening thoughts least they drive him to insanity.
 
0-0-0-0-0-0
 
The village proved to be further than he thought and he ended up reaching it in the late hours of the afternoon. It consisted of a single street with the houses and establishments lined up neatly on either side. Beyond that, any semblance of order seemed to have vanished.
 
Being so close to Kyoto had not been kind on the village. Houses and shops alike stood empty; tools lay where they had been dropped, waiting for owners that would never return. A sense of mourning seem to hang in the air as woman, children and those too old to go to war made their way about, mechanically attending to their tasks. They barely even noticed the red haired ronin that wandered into their midst and that suited him perfectly. Kenshin definitely wasn't in the mood to talk with anybody, whether they be a lowly peasant or the Emperor himself.
 
The village inn seemed to be the only normal place in the village. Travellers still came and went and the staff were as busy as ever. Tapping politely on the door, Kenshin waited for a maid to come and attend to him. It seemed to be extra loud at the moment and Kenshin momentarily forgot his problems as his curiosity roused itself. What on earth was all the racket about?
 
Kenshin waited several more moments and when no one answered the door he knocked a second time, this time a little more loudly.
 
Apparently someone heard him because moments later he heard footsteps and several loud crashes. The door however, remained closed and Kenshin, finally growing impatient and just wanting to get out of the damn cold wind which was springing up, began to knock a third time, his impatience evident in the rhythm of his knuckles on the door.
 
`Alright already!' snapped a young, female voice. The door was yanked open before Kenshin could finish knocking and he was confronted by a young woman roughly his own age and height dressed in a plain violet kimono. Kenshin gazed in shock as he took in the woman's bright green eyes and hair as vivid red as his own. Surely not? He'd never met anyone else like him before. How on earth could this young girl have hair as red as his own?
 
`What are you staring at?' she asked. Suddenly seeming to remember herself, she blushed slightly and awkwardly mumbled an apology. Kenshin however, relaxed. The woman was a foreigner: that explained everything. Though she spoke Japanese beautifully, there was still a slight accent to her voice. She'd obviously come from the Western world although Kenshin wasn't exactly sure where. His great grandmother had been from Scotland which explained his own red hair but until this day, he'd never met another person possessing a shade remotely similar. Still, it had been foolish of him to think he was the only red haired person in all of Japan.
 
`My apologies also,' murmured Kenshin bowing politely. `I thought you didn't hear me.'
 
The young woman blushed further but seemed to regain control of her features and stepped back to allow Kenshin inside. Slightly impressed with her evident self control, Kenshin followed the young woman as she introduced herself as Tomomi. Puzzled at the name, Kenshin was surprised when she glanced over her shoulder at him and seemed to read something in his gaze although nothing showed upon his face.
 
Smiling she said, `my foreign name's a little hard to pronounce but this name has a similar meaning so I chose it instead.'
 
Nodding hesitantly to show his satisfaction and still feeling a little shocked at how well the woman had read him, he followed her as she turned away and continued leading him into the inn. Although, he supposed ruefully that this kind of thing probably happened to the young woman all the time and she had merely given him an explanation without waiting for him to ask whether he seemed interested or not.
 
In the hallway it became apparent what the commotion had been all about. A large party of foreigners was gathered, their jackets askew and their faces red with merriment. Large jugs of sake were been passed around and they were singing a bawdy song at the top of their lungs with much laughter and chortling.
 
Noting Tomomi's entrance, the men cheered and called her over. Kenshin wasn't sure what they were asking of her and his hand strayed without a second thought to the hilt of his sword. He may have only just met Tomomi but she was still a woman without a weapon and experience warned Kenshin that this could get ugly very quickly.
 
Tomomi however, seemed to understand the dialect the group used and responded in kind. Kenshin hazard a guess that it was probably English by the sounds of it although the accent in Tomomi's voice was different to the foreigners'. She probably came from a different region to these folks summarised Kenshin but she seemed to be fine and the men made no move towards her.
 
Removing his hand and placing it within the folds of his gi, Kenshin stepped forward; barely aware that until he'd assessed the men and decided if they were a danger or not, he'd remained in the shadows.
 
The men started with surprise as he appeared but Kenshin became confused when the men suddenly cheered at him and shouted something at Tomomi who blushed to the roots of her hair. Kenshin had no idea what they were saying but felt a blush creep onto his own cheeks at the thought of what these men might be suggesting instead.
 
Tomomi protested something and then hastily moved past the men, a bewildered Kenshin hurrying behind.
 
They cheered again, trying to make Kenshin and Tomomi stay and have a drink but Tomomi was surprisingly quick and managed to duck and weave her way through the men without incident; an obvious sign of long practice in similar situations.
 
`What did they say?' queried Kenshin once they were alone in the quiet hallways again. Tomomi laughed sheepishly, a slight flush of embarrassment returning to her cheeks. `They thought you were my brother,' she mumbled.
 
Kenshin stared in shock.
 
`Oro?'
 
Tomomi blinked at him and laughed. `What?' flushed Kenshin, feeling more unsettled by the second.
 
`That was very cute,' explained Tomomi smiling at him.
 
`Oro?' repeated Kenshin and Tomomi only laughed harder.
 
`I've never met anyone that makes such an unusual sound,' said Tomomi as she finally got herself under control.
 
Her comment abruptly brought Kenshin up short and he sobered immediately. He hadn't `oroed' as Tomomi put it, in a very long time. Not since the day before he'd left his Shishou to join the war. That day, Kenshin had as usual being completing his early morning training and complementing how best to approach his Shishou about the war. Of course, lost in thought, his Shishou had taken advantage of Kenshin and snuck up on him to give him a sound rap on the head. Kenshin had spent several minutes after that clutching his stinging head and `oroing' between shooting his smirking Shishou glares that promised of revenge.
 
`Are you alright?' questioned Tomomi as she noticed Kenshin suddenly withdraw into himself, his face becoming a blank mask as he forcefully slammed the door shut on his emotions.
 
`I'm fine,' replied Kenshin.
 
Tomomi observed him worriedly for another moment before opening a door to their right. She slipped through and Kenshin followed. Once inside, Kenshin discovered they'd entered an office of sorts. It was painfully neat and bare of anything except the necessities. Books lined the white walls in a neat orderly fashion and the desk Tomomi stepped behind vaguely reflected her face upon the thoroughly scrubbed surface.
 
Drawing up to the front desk, Kenshin waited patiently as she pulled a large, blue book from under the desk and quickly began flipping through the pages. Once she reached the last page, she turned the book around and handed Kenshin a pen, indicating that he should write his name in the Registry.
 
Kenshin hesitated for the barest second before scratching `Himura Kenshin' in the column in his big, looping calligraphy that his Shishou had taught him. It'd taken years to drum it into him and stop Kenshin writing in his obsessively small, spidery handwriting but Kenshin had stuck to his Shishou's lessons in writing, knowing it was the one lesson his Shishou had taught that he hadn't yet tainted and he refused to do so by not using it.
 
Reading a few of the names above his own, he noticed they were foreign and summarised that they must belong to the men they'd just passed. Their handwriting looked incredibly strange and Kenshin thought a lot of the names sounded absolutely ridiculous. Dragging his eyes away, he set the pen down and turned the book back around, waiting for the inevitable flicker of recognition.
 
To his surprise, Tomomi only smiled when she saw the name. `Well then Himura-san, what would you like for this evening and how long will you be staying?'
 
Still a little caught off guard, Kenshin managed to mumble out that he'd like a bath, a jug of sake and he didn't mind where he slept so long as he could without being disturbed.
 
She doesn't recognise me, he thought. Kenshin had been fairly certain that she'd know him by appearance; everyone did. And if not that then he was certain his name would have told her exactly who he was. `Himura the BattÅsai,' was hardly a common name, in fact, it was one of a kind.
 
Puzzling over this young woman, Kenshin followed silently after her as she showed him around the inn. Perhaps she hadn't been in Japan as long as he'd first thought. Maybe she hadn't even heard the rumours about him. That was a wonderful thought. To be looked at with neither terror, fury nor fearful respect would be a welcome change.
 
Finally Tomomi came to a room far away from the main noise of the other patrons and showed Kenshin inside. It was a bit small for Kenshin's taste but he could hardly complain as he handed over his money.
 
Tomomi bowed slightly and disappeared for several minutes before returning with a towel, a bowl of some form of soup and a jug of sake. She handed each item over and finally departed with a beaming smile.
 
Kenshin remained standing where she had left him for several moments, for once finding himself not wanting to be left alone.
 
0-0-0-0-0-0
 
Tomomi sighed softly as she slid the ronin's door home. What a strange young man he was; so emotionless and distant. Of course, there had been that one moment there when he'd flushed and started up with that cute little `oroing' noise of his but then he'd strangely drawn back into himself.
 
Tomomi hated to admit it but she was a little disappointed. They didn't often get travellers near her own age staying at the inn and for a moment she'd thought she might have someone to talk to for a few days. Never mind, he was obviously a swordsman anyway and his type generally seemed to keep to themselves.
 
Adjusting her kimono, she returned towards where she'd left the company of Irishmen. Such a loud bunch that lot she decided with irritation. Before Himura-san had arrived she'd been trying to persuade them to return to the eating hall where they could carry on their merrymaking without disturbing anyone else but she wasn't really having much luck.
 
As she rounded the corner she was immediately spotted by Bill Hollywell, one of the younger celebrators.
 
`Hey Tomomi!' he called as he grinned from ear to ear. His shout attracted the attention of the rest of the group and they turned with a cheer towards her, raising their cups and sloshing sake on one another.
 
`Come here and celebrate with us darling,' suggested Bill. `Now, now boys,' said Tomomi sternly. `You know the hallway isn't the place for this. Take your celebrating back to the eating hall. Go on, be off with ya.'
 
`Oh come on,' laughed Bill good naturedly. Tomomi only smiled and sternly pointed her finger in the direction of the hall.
 
Bill sighed dramatically and brought a hand to his head. `Oh but you doth wound me so, Miss Tomomi. After all,' Bill grinned suddenly, `I thought you Australian lasses were supposed to be able to hold your drink.'
 
Tomomi snorted, `and I thought you Irishmen knew how to quit when you're ahead,' she admonished.
 
Sighing, Bill turned back to his mates and announced loudly, `well you heard the lass. Best to `be off with us' and back to the eating hall.' Several loud protests rang out but still grinning, the Irishmen departed, Bill casually calling over his shoulder that he'd get her next time. `You can't withstand my charm and wit forever,' he said with a wink.
 
`Goodnight Bill Hollywell.'
 
`And good evening to you to Miss Tomomi,' laughed Bill as he disappeared after his companions.
 
Shaking her head in amusement, Tomomi turned and decided to go back to the kitchens and do some washing up.
 
0-0-0-0-0-0
 
He frowned. He'd seen a lot of strange things in his time but he didn't think three sets of hands gripping one sake cup was one of them. Anyway, he was certain he only had one set of hands. One set was all he needed in the end and he scowled at the thought. Bringing the cup to his lips, he tipped back his head and knocked back the sake with a grimace. It tasted little better these days but at least the taste of blood wasn't as prominent as he remembered.
 
Glaring balefully at a patron nearby who had been watching him, Kenshin eventually managed to convince the man it wasn't a good idea and the man turned away muttering into his cup. Kenshin scowled at his back for added emphasis then poured himself another cup, not caring that he splashed half of it across the table.
 
He was in a bad mood. He knew that and it grated on his nerves. He'd been fine after Tomomi had left. He'd still been fine as he put away his things and had his bath; scrubbing away the dirt even though he felt as tainted as ever. In fact, he'd been fine right up until he'd decided to take his jug of sake to the eating hall and sit in a quiet corner.
 
The foreign group had been there, obviously encouraged to return by the inn's staff but they weren't bothering Kenshin and hadn't even glanced his way. It was the remaining patrons that had were bothering Kenshin. They'd all noted his entrance and stared at him with fearful respect before remembering themselves and turning their gazes away but that hadn't stopped them shooting glances at Kenshin out the corner of their eyes.
 
And that was why Kenshin was in a bad mood because up until that moment, he'd almost forgotten the way people usually looked at him and had only remembered Tomomi's beaming grin as she left his room.
 
He scowled into his cup. He was definitely in a bad mood.
 
0-0-0-0-0-0
 
Finally finished, Tomomi set the last of the clean dishes aside and wiped her hands on a towel to dry them.
 
`Tomomi can you come and help me for a sec,' called another maid as she flew past the doorway.
 
`Of course, Naoko-san,' answered Tomomi as she hurried after the other woman.
 
The eating hall was packed when the two maids arrived and Tomomi was a little shocked at the numbers. It seemed the frigid air had brought in more people then usual. Slipping into business mode, she listened as Naoko rattled off a list of instructions and thrust a tray into her hands with two jugs of sake balanced precariously on top. Tomomi almost dropped them for a moment there but managed to regain her balance and steady the tray.
 
`Naoko!' she growled. `Sorry Tomomi,' replied Naoko who was already dashing off to serve another customer.
 
Rolling her eyes heavenward, Tomomi turned and began serving the sake. Catching her eye across the room, Bill grinned at her and held his cup up to her in a mock toast. Tomomi grinned ruefully in return, glad for the Irishmen's friendly manner.
 
She hadn't known Bill very long but she had already taken a strong liking to the young man. He was bright and enthusiastic and always cheerful. He was also good looking with mischievous green eyes and untidy brown hair that couldn't seem to stay put under his cap though Tomomi didn't see his good looks as anything other than adding to his charm.
 
Yes, it was good to have people like Bill Hollywell around. Unlike the reserved, sometimes dangerous Japanese people, the Irish folk were open and friendly, treating whoever they met in exactly the same manner as everyone else. It had been a blessing when they'd arrived in town a week ago. Tomomi didn't think she could stand having to deal with another quiet, sullen Japanese person. Not that she specifically disliked the Japanese but the war seemed to have turned most people into harsh versions of their former selves and it had been beginning to get on her nerves.
 
Sensing sudden hostility, Tomomi felt the hairs rise on the back of her neck as she looked away from the merrymaking Irishmen. Flicking her eyes through the crowds behind her, Tomomi sought for the source of the disturbance.
 
At first she couldn't see anything and was about to turn away when something unexpectedly flashed with a soft golden light in the shadows over in the far corner. A slight shiver ran up her spine as she squinted, trying to pierce the gloomy darkness.
 
Gradually, she began to make out the form of a patron sitting there though it was impossible to tell who.
 
Suddenly she froze, shock turning her insides to ice as the golden eyes glared at her from the darkness. An unknown sensation seemed to seep through her and she felt her stomach muscles clench tightly. She wasn't sure how long the golden eyes held her gaze before they finally released her, vanishing as if they'd never been.
 
The contact broken, Tomomi stumbled slightly but caught herself as she finally recognised her assailant in the shadows. It was the red headed swordsman, Himura-san.
 
0-0-0-0-0-0
 
Kenshin glared around the inn. They were still staring at him and he was really starting to get irritated.
 
What's wrong with me!? he screamed at himself, frustration coursing through him. Taking a deep breath, he tried to calm down and force the anger back. Why am I so furious? It's not like I was ever an angry drunk. More like the crying type I always thought.
 
Glancing around again, marginally calmer, he was startled to see Tomomi looking at him, her face expressionless although Kenshin could feel fear spiking through her ki.
 
She seemed unable to tear her gaze away and Kenshin felt his anger rising again. Did she have to keep looking at him like that?
 
In abrupt disgust, Kenshin broke the stare and returned his gaze to his sake cup. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed her stager slightly and one of the Irishmen suddenly appeared at her side and caught her elbow.
 
Kenshin started a little. He hadn't even noticed the Irishmen come over; a young man with untidy hair and a charming face. Never the less, he stood beside Tomomi now, steadying her and speaking calmly, the smile Kenshin remembered seeing on his face strangely absent.
 
Suspicions aroused, Kenshin extended his ki and discovered the man was nowhere near as incapacitated as he had first believed. On the contrary, he was quite alert and very angry.
 
Guarding himself, Kenshin watched as the youth looked up and spotted him seated in the shadows. Grabbing Tomomi by the arm, he pulled her over though she appeared to be protesting and trying to get the youth to relax.
 
Without waiting for an invitation, he seated himself on the opposite side of the table to Kenshin and Tomomi reluctantly sat down beside him, shooting an irritated glare at the Irishmen who ignored it, his gaze focused on Kenshin.
 
Kenshin observed the two of them carefully, his face giving nothing away. Though neither were fighters, Kenshin realized that they both possessed the potential. Tomomi appeared to have calmed now and her ki no longer spiked but it was still a little rattled. The youth watched him with the eyes of a hawk and Kenshin realized those piercing green eyes probably missed nothing and had seen Kenshin's earlier transgression with Tomomi. Oh yes, the Oniwaban would love someone like you thought Kenshin sourly.
 
0-0-0-0-0-0
 
Tomomi watched the swordsman carefully. Himura didn't seem to be any different than when she had left him in his room although there was definitely a change in his gaze. It was somewhat harder, somewhat colder and more deadly than before. It didn't help that in the flickering light from the fireplace his eyes seemed to glow with golden energy.
 
Glancing sideways, she could see that Bill's face had set itself into a determined, grim expression. It was a strange change from the merry maker he'd been not a minute ago. Obviously this young man had more to him than met the eye.
 
She shifted slightly, a little uncomfortable as she waited for either one to ask her the inevitable question.
 
Abruptly it was Himura who suddenly broke the silence.
 
`What do you want?' he demanded.
 
His voice was quiet; sounding as if he were suppressing his anger and Tomomi instantly became aware of the glances from nearby tables. A little confused, she noticed out the corner of her eye that most of them were looking at Himura fearfully though she couldn't fathom why.
 
Himura may have been a swordsman and he may have had a pretty fierce glare but he was by no other means a threatening looking man. He wasn't nearly old enough to have developed much of a reputation and Tomomi didn't think he really looked like much of an athlete either.
 
Bill looked at her expectantly and Tomomi sighed. `He wants to know what you want,' she said softly.
 
`I see,' replied Bill icily.
 
Nodding, Bill returned his gaze to Himura and said to Tomomi without breaking his glare, `tell him that I want to know why he looked at you that way and just how much he's had to drink.'
 
Sighing, Tomomi repeated what Bill had said, noting that Himura did indeed have a jug of sake in front of him and had spilt some on the table.
 
His gaze remained steady however as he returned Bill's glare impassively.
 
He didn't answer for a moment but when he did Tomomi was surprised by what he said.
 
`Probably more than is good for me and I apologise. I believe I shall be turning in now.'
 
Tomomi was still looking at Himura when Bill's voice cut into her thoughts. `Well what did he say?' he wanted to know.
 
`He said he's probably had too much and he's sorry. He wants to retire for the night,' she replied without removing her eyes from Himura's.
 
`What!' erupted Bill, surprising Tomomi with his outburst. Himura didn't react other than a slight narrowing of his eyes.
 
`Tell him I want to know why he's so angry,' said Bill.
 
Himura however, beat her to it.
 
`No.'
 
Tomomi stared at him as the English word slipped from his lips. It was only slightly accented and Himura seemed to fully understand what he'd said. Bill stared and before Tomomi could stop herself she blurted out, `I thought you didn't speak English.'
 
Himura regarded her then and she wanted to shiver under that gaze. Whatever had set him off she had no idea. It was so strange considering how well they'd got on earlier. This person sitting in front of her could almost be someone else entirely.
 
`I know a little,' be said in Japanese. `I just had trouble because of the different accent.'
 
As if deeming the conversation over, Himura stood up to leave and Tomomi was surprised to see he had his sword threaded through his obi. He must have had it under the table and she hadn't even realised.
 
Bill however, was not about to let him go so easily.
 
`How wait a minute buster, I'm not done yet. You ought to apologise to Miss Tomomi for scaring her like that and for your drunken behaviour.'
 
Himura didn't seem to understand all of what Bill said but he couldn't mistake the tone of voice.
 
`This conversation is over,' he said coldly, `now get out of my way.'
 
If possible, Himura's English only seemed to have improved and Tomomi was startled to realise just how much he knew now that'd he'd worked out Bill's accent.
 
If Bill noticed then he didn't appear to care.
 
`No,' he retorted stubbornly. `You-,' he began.
 
`I'll say it one more time,' repeated Himura as Bill moved to block his path defiantly.
 
`Move!'
 
When Bill didn't budge, Tomomi decided enough was enough. Before she could react however, Himura sprang forward, his fist lashing out and smashing into Bill's jaw.
 
It had all happened amazingly fast and Tomomi was shocked to see Bill thrown by the force of the hit.
 
Despite his slight stature, Himura's strike had hit with the force of a tonne of bricks. Gasps echoed around the room and the Irishmen were instantly on their feet to defend their comrade.
 
Bill didn't seem to be out however and was struggling back up almost as soon as he hit the ground.
 
A breath of wind stirred by Tomomi as Himura sprinted past. He was gone before she could blink and Bill was looking incredibly angry as his eyes darted around the room in search of the swordsman.
 
That was it; time to put an end to this.
 
`Enough Bill,' growled Tomomi.
 
Bill looked at her, shocked by the tone of her voice. The rest of the Irishmen also seemed a little surprised.
 
`Surely you're not telling us to forgive this insult to you Miss Tomomi?' asked Bill incredulously.
 
`Of course I am,' she snapped, a hint of venom creeping into her voice.
 
`But-,' protested Bill.
 
`She's right young man,' interrupted another voice.
 
A middle aged Japanese man with a sword at his waist and his black hair pulled into a topknot was speaking to them now. Tomomi vaguely remembered the man was a samurai and had been at the inn for a few days already.
 
`You should leave that man well enough alone,' he said.
 
`You can't ask me to forgive that man for dishonouring Miss Tomomi,' replied Bill stubbornly.
 
`And why should you forgive him?' retorted the man harshly, his eyes snapping angrily. `Nobody ever will forgive him but like I said, it's best to leave alone that which you don't understand.'
 
Bill finally seemed to give in, his shoulders slumping slightly with a sigh and his hand coming up to rub his rapidly bruising cheek. `Alright Miss Tomomi, I'll forgive him for insulting you and for hitting me too if that makes you happy.' He gave her a rueful smile and it seemed that the old Bill had finally returned.
 
Tomomi smiled tentatively in return, inwardly breathing a sigh of relief as everyone returned to what they were doing; apparently forgetting the incident had ever happened.
 
She however, could not forget and her eyes lingered on the samurai as he stared darkly into the contents of his cup.
 
Just what exactly had he meant when he'd referred to Himura-san?
 
 
 
 
Japanese Terminology:
 
Bakumatsu - The last days of the Shogunate government.
 
Battle of Toba-Fushimi - The first battle of the Boshin War fought between pro-imperialist and Shogunate forces. It began on January 27th and lasted four days. At the end of it, Himura Kenshin thrust his sword into the ground and left the battlefields of war forever. He was 19 years old.
 
BattÅjutsu - The art of drawing the sword.
 
BattÅsai - Master of BattÅjutsu. Himura the BattÅsai literally translates as Himura the Master of the Art of Drawing the Sword.
 
Hitokiri - Manslayer/assassin in the shadows.
 
Ki - A person's aura or spirit.
 
Name-san - Polite honorific as if to say Mr Himura for example.
 
Obi - Sash or belt.
 
Oro - Thought I'd better add this one too. Its Kenshin's made up word for puzzlement, kind of like he's saying `huh?'
 
Sake - Japanese alcoholic drink.
 
Shishou - Master; the name Kenshin Himura used to refer to and address his mentor and teacher, Seijiro Hiko XIII.
 
Tomomi - If anyone's interested, Tomomi's name means “beautiful friend.”
 
 
 
 
Disclaimer: Rurouni Kenshin © Watsuki Nobuhiro. I make no profit from this fictional story and it is merely for the amusement of myself and those who happen to take the time to read it.
 
 
 
 
Author's Note: Ta da! Hope you all liked it. I've been working on it for days so I hope it's up to standard. I've really been trying to improve my writing of late and this definitely sounds much better than what I usually write. Anyway, review and let me know what you think. How can I improve without your wonderful thoughts and advice? ^_^
 
I made this chapter particularly long because I usually start each story with very short prologues so I thought it'd be a nice change for everybody. You can expect all chapters to be 4000 words or more and this one has ended up at 5400 words so you should all feel very lucky that it ended up longer than I planned.
 
Any questions, please let me know and I'd only be too happy to oblige.
 
Cheers!
 
Randa-Chan*