Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ All But Shattered ❯ One-Shot

All But Shattered

By: Dakoyone

A Rurouni Kenshin Fanfiction

 

Author's Notes: Here is a look into a brief moment within Kenshin's wandering period.

Disclaimer: Own Rurouni Kenshin & Co. I do not.

 

At times, I find myself wondering why I exist. Do I exist merely for heaven's amusement? Do they watch me with their immortal lives and laugh when I become tossed around from one emotion to another, like passing a ball around without it touching the ground?

 

Giving up? Oh, how those words fill my ears. I sometimes do long to lie down and die, to care no more for the troubles of this world. I cannot count the number of times I have drawn my sword, if one could call it a sword, and stare at its reverse-blade. How would it be like to die by this sword? After all the suffering I have endured, will I feel the pain of the blade being drawn across my flesh? Will I bleed when I have already shed so much blood?

 

I sit now, staring up at the sky, wondering these things. Two years have passed since I left the battlefield. Two years since I have received this sword. Two years…since that fateful day—the day…that day—I couldn't…I can't breathe. My hands grip my sakabatou tightly as they begin to tremble…tremble as they did—before. Tomoe…To—moe. My pale, trembling hand reaches up and wipes away a stray tear from my eye. I stare at my hand…at the crimson stain now smeared on it. I am crying blood. Again, it is blood. Why must it always be blood?! BLOOD!!

 

Before my mind could decipher my movements, my hands had drawn my sword with my accursed god-like speed. My cry split the air…my cry, ever filled with pain and torment, from this torn body of mine. My hands turn the blade to face me and prepare to plunge it into my wretched heart.

 

Memories pass before my eyes, memories of my years with Shishou, of my time with Ishin-shishi, of my fleeting moments with…Tomoe. Tomoe, my sheath…my love. Her face smiles at me in my mind. I will protect you. She had nodded happily then…hopefully. Hope…a hope that died. The blood spilling from my left cheek. Blood. The blood flowing from my shoulder and my back. BLOOD. The sound of ripping flesh and breaking bone. Tomoe. The warm fluid spilling onto my face and clothes. Blood. A red blanket freezing in the snow. BLOOD!!! No! Tomoe!

 

Kenshin.

 

No, I do not wish to see.

 

Kenshin.

 

Do not let me see her die again.

 

Kenshin.

 

I do not want…I cannot…

 

Kenshin.

 

No more blood! Please…just…leave me…

 

Kenshin.

 

She stands in front of me, her hands folded before her. She looks at me, and a single tear slides down her cheek. Her kimono is perfect…clean. There is no trace of blood anywhere. Her shawl flutters in the cold breeze. The snow, raining gently from the heavens, gives her appearance an unearthly glow. She smiles at me lovingly.

 

Live, Kenshin. Live for me.

 

My eyes shoot open, and my hands jerk the sakabatou upward, forcing it off course. I feel the cold air bite my skin as my gi procures a small tear above my shoulder. The edge of the sword embeds itself into the tree behind me. My hands cleave onto the hilt, and it is painful trying to pry them off the leather grip. I sink to one knee and breathe heavily, my breaths forming mists in the air. It had snowed. I furrow my brows, confused. How could it have snowed in that brief moment? Oh, the snow…so much of my life revolves around its deceitful purity. My leave-taking from the mountain. The colder nights in the alleys, lying in wait for the target who remains oblivious of me, Hitokiri Battousai. The night I said I would protect her…I promised—to protect her. The day—that day…when her blood spilled onto the horrid snow, freezing the image into my memory.

 

Why was it her? Why did the heavens keep me alive? I was the one who committed the worst of wrongs. She had done nothing. Why am I still here? Or is it that the heavens wish for me to suffer for all of my sins? Tomoe. To—moe. My tears run hot down my sickly pale cheeks. My tears of blood. Ack! Blood again! This is my curse! How I wish to die! Just let me give up! Just let me fall on my sword! Please, I beg you, high heavens, no more blood! No more pain! No more torment! No more…no more rain of blood!

 

A scent…a familiar scent reaches my nose. White plum. But how…I look up slowly and see a bough of white plum flowers in my mind. The vision disappears, and my eyes register the sight of a bough of white plum blossoms lying in the snow.

 

Tentatively, I reach out and pick them up, cradling them in my calloused hands. Tomoe…I stare at the blossoms, so white, so pure.

 

“I will live.”

 

I say it with a determination I never knew was within me. I could see her truly smile now, an image brighter than the brightest star. A fire had ignited, and the swordsman spirit is lit in my eyes. I will live. I turn to retrieve the sakabatou, and it sings as it is slipped into the metal sheath. I stare at them, my sword and the bough of blossoms. She smiles because I live.

 

I wonder now how it would be like if I live. Maybe I'll find something…something bright and good. Maybe I'll hear Shishou call me his “baka deshi” again…someday. Maybe I'll see myself accepted not as some demon of the past but as a man trying to protect every life that crosses his path. No matter…so long as, by this symbolic tool I carry, I am able to light many more smiles in this world…even if it is merely one smile…even if it is only a faint smile…that's enough for me.

 

*~*Owari*~*