Rurouni Kenshin Fan Fiction ❯ The Flames of Kyoto ❯ Prologue ( Prologue )

Author's Note: Hello all! I hope you all enjoy this although I shan't expect a single review. Nobody on this site ever does and I can tell you all that it's damn lazy and inconsiderate. It really annoys me but I'll still post this anyway because otherwise what's the point of writing this? Enjoy.

 

The Flames of Kyoto

 

Prologue:

 

Kyoto: May 1865

 

A cold wind blew that night, cutting though the streets and sending shivers down the spine of any man foolish enough to walk through it. The streets of Kyoto were deserted for the time been, seemingly caught in a lull in the never ending battles of blood and death fought within the darkness of their alleys each night.

 

Crouched in the shadows, his breathing sounding harsher than usual in the silence, the assassin waited.

 

The wolves were still looking for him and he was sure that at any moment they might catch the sound of his breathing in the distance and come: gliding stealthily through the streets in packs to finally slay him forever.

 

He shifted slightly, attempting to settle more comfortably. The alley he crouched in was silent for the most part and filled with human refuse. The stench of it constantly fought to invade his nostrils. Overriding all that was the familiar coppery taint of blood. It was a constant scent these days filling his clothing, his hair and the very air he breathed. He wondered if he would ever be rid of it and only in the privacy of the shadows did the assassin allow the mask to slip slightly and the sadness to shine through.

 

In the distance, the dull murmur of voices rose as a door to an inn opened and closed. Whoever had opened that door was either dead or very lucky thought the assassin grimly. No man left the safe confines of the crowds at this time of the night, not with so many dark men lurking about these days. If he had left then he would most likely never make it home or if he had entered the inn then he was very lucky.

 

The soft sound of footfalls alerted the assassin to another presence. He watched a young man walk cautiously up the street, his hand griping the handle of a katana tightly. Despite the nervous grip, the young man appeared confident and the slight smell of smoke and ale wafting from the man informed the assassin that he had just come from the inn. `Baka,' he thought.

 

He almost left the alley to inform the man so but stopped, frowning at his haste for a man who had nothing to do with him. If he wanted to get killed then that was his problem; he had more pressing things to attend to. A small part of his mind protested his harsh decision, made when the man it concerned was completely unaware of it but he firmly pushed that thought aside. There would be time to reflect later.

 

He watched the man until he finally disappeared into the gloom. He felt no guilt at having let the man go on towards his fate, completely oblivious to what probably awaited him. Yet just the same, perhaps…he was getting soft.

 

The hiss of steel against sheath echoed through the night; the most familiar sound in the world to the assassin crouched in the shadows. It seemed the young man had finally met his fate.

 

It was time to move.

 

Cautiously departing from the shadows, the assassin moved as quietly as he could towards his next destination: another alleyway three blocks away where he'd make his next stop.

 

Blood trickled down his side, leaking through his clothing and making the layers stick to his body. Trying to lower the noise of his pained breathing, the assassin for the most part ignored his wound. It was a miner hindrance and certainly something he could live through but that didn't make it any less painful.

 

Admittedly, he had never been wounded before. It was a new concept for him but not one that he couldn't deal with. His Shishou had injured him badly on more than one occasion so he wasn't entirely unfamiliar with the feeling of pain. Never the less, it was unnerving to feel the blood trickling down his side and the amount of strength it seemed to sap from his body with each drop.

 

Bandaging it would probably be a good idea, in fact, it would be a very wise idea but he had already taken more time then he should have. Normally he completed his mission and slipped away. Tonight, he had made the grave error of relaxing his guard and instead of slipping away; he'd very nearly slipped into the clutches of the Shinsengumi.

 

A sudden soft noise to his left alerted him that he was suddenly not as alone as he would like.

 

The first unit of the Shinsengumi appeared from the darkness, the recognizable figure of Souji Okita at its head. The assassin was very familiar with the youthful leader of the first unit of the Shinsengumi. It wasn't easy to mistake Okita for who he was dressed in uniform with his floppy hair, bright blue eyes and childish features. There was no one else who belonged to the Shinsengumi who looked like Souji Okita.

 

The assassin scowled at the appearance of the slight leader but held his position, concealed in the shadows as he was. Souji Okita could hardly be any older than he was, standing as he did peering into the shadows. Then again, the assassin knew appearances could be deceiving and he expected that Okita was probably older than his youthful face made him appear.

 

`Hmm, it seems the BattÅsai is leading us a merry chase,' Okita remarked. `He will soon find out just how close we are to slaying him forever. That demon can't keep running for much longer with that wound you gave him Hoji.'

 

The one called Hoji smiled at the compliment from his leader. It was rare for Okita to be so praising.

 

The assassin scowled, careful to mask his ki however. Okita almost sounded as if he were treating this as a game. It made him angry to hear such an amused tone from one of his greatest enemies. They were in a war, couldn't he understand that? Smiles and laughter had no place here anymore.

 

`Sir?' interrupted one of the squad coming forward. `There is blood on the street over there and it is still fresh,' he reported.

 

`So the BattÅsai is near is he?' asked Okita turning to the swordsman. Smiling with amusement, Okita scanned the shadows, looking for a trace of another presence.

 

`My eyes may not be able to see you but I know you are there BattÅsai. Why don't you stop hiding and come out?'

 

The assassin however, would not be drawn. What right did Okita have to challenge him? How could he stand there and smile as if this were some amusing game?

 

Besides, it would not be a fair fight. He was wounded and they both knew that. Narrowing his eyes, the assassin realised Okita was not challenging him; he was baiting him. Okita's honor dictated that he shouldn't fight him unless he was at full strength but his men wouldn't hesitate. He had been getting so successful that it was becoming a necessity for the Shinsengumi to capture him at all costs. Okita wanted him to get angry, he wanted him to show himself because he wanted him to feel insulted and challenge him. The assassin was aware of the fact that Okita knew how young he was, knew his idealistic nature and was obviously trying to subtly draw the assassin out.

 

The assassin, now aware of this, knew he could not risk his anger getting to him. The Ishin Shishi needed him as their hitokiri. He could not allow himself to become embroiled with the Shinsengumi. They weren't his targets after all; they were simply trying to protect his targets from him. If he wanted to live another day as the BattÅsai then he couldn't afford to let his anger cloud his judgment. The Shinsengumi had already surprised him once tonight with a move he hadn't anticipated from someone whose ki reeked of overconfidence. The resulting wound had been caused because the assassin had been angry at the taunts from this man and was only now beginning to realise that he'd lost his focus in that moment and hadn't cared what happened so long as he cut the man down. It seemed that his opponent wasn't the only one overconfident in his abilities.

 

No, the assassin would not come out and fight tonight. Enough was enough. His task was complete and all that mattered was that he retreat now, back to the safety of the inn.

 

A stalemate declared, Okita and his squad spread out, effectively cutting off escape for the BattÅsai. He could feel Okita searching for his ki with his own but he kept it carefully concealed as his Shishou had taught him.

 

Ignoring their movements for the moment as the squad looked cautiously for him; the assassin took the time to quietly bandage his wound with a few bandages he always carried on his person. He didn't bother to pull off his clothing and do it properly but tied the bandages over top of his clothing, knowing that he didn't have enough time to undo and redo the complicated folds and ties of his garments. It wasn't very effective but it would do for the time been and would prevent the trail of blood which had allowed the Shinsengumi to track him in the first place.

 

Now, to escape. Readying himself and loosening his blade, the assassin watched as two wolves drew near to his hiding place. They were far enough away from the rest of the squad that if they drew near now and he was able to surprise them and slay them in a single blow, then he would be able to buy enough time to get away again.

 

They were so close now, close enough that they could probably almost see him but Okita was watching. Not yet, a few more seconds.

 

There ki was starting to spike now as they drew nearer to his hiding place in the shadows. They could not sense him but they knew he was very likely to be hiding were they were about to investigate and this both excited and terrified them at the same time.

 

Only a few more steps: Okita finally looked away.

 

With a hiss of steel, the assassin drew his blade.

 

The pack turned as one as they heard the hiss of steel from the sheath. They witnessed the blinding flash of the assassin's blade reflected in the moonlight as it cut thought the night. Their comrades didn't stand a chance as they tried to defend themselves. The BattÅsai's legendary speed could not be matched. Their comrades fell, blood gushing from their wounds as their slayer disappeared into the darkness.

 

`Curse it!' hissed Okita as he ordered his men off in pursuit.

 

It was too late however; the assassin was gone and would not stop until he had reached safety. With his wound bound, there was no way the first squad of the Shinsengumi could track him; all they could hope was that they might come by him by pure luck.

 

Okita sighed as they finally admitted defeat several hours later. It seemed the elusive BattÅsai had evaded them once again and would live to slay another day.

 

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

 

Blinking, Kenshin Himura came back to himself and sighed as he realised he'd burned his lunch beyond repair. Not that he minded overly much but it was still a nuisance just the same.

 

Pulling another piece of dried meat from his quickly lightening pack, he removed the blackened mess from the stick and replaced it with the new one, resolving not to drift off again.

 

He didn't do it often but in times of peace he found that `drifting off' occurred more regularly.

 

His trip from Kyoto back to Tokyo had definitely been peaceful anyway. Misao Makimacki and the rest of his friends he had left behind in Kyoto had been sad to see him go but hadn't begrudged him. They had given their blessings and thus far Kenshin had been grateful for it. He hadn't seen hide or hair of any trouble which was wonderful for a change. After all, his last battle had been well over a month ago and he was enjoying the peace far more than he would admit to anyone, especially himself.

 

Careful not to let his mind wander again, Kenshin waited patiently for the meat to cook, amusing himself but watching a litter of young rabbits playing in a field fifty yards or so away. They seemed completely oblivious of him and Kenshin enjoyed the privilege of watching their antics.

 

Idly he wondered how Miss Kaoru and the others were getting on at home. Hopefully Sanosuke was staying out of mischief and Yahiko wasn't giving Miss Kaoru too much of a hard time. Heavens, he didn't need to come home to find the dojo in uproar and its occupants at each others' throats.

 

Still, this kind of uproar was definitely preferable to the one he had been remembering anyway. He only hoped it was not another premonition. The last time he had thought so much about the past, Hajime Saito had reappeared in his life. Within weeks he had left his friends far behind and returned to Kyoto: the very city that so often haunted his dreams.

 

Shaking his head, Kenshin rescued his lunch before he could burn it again and banished such thoughts from his mind. He would be in Tokyo tomorrow and until then, he would do his best to stop brooding and get home in one piece.