Kendo no Go
In the Language of Kendo:
A Fanfic in 100 Chapters
by Akai Kitsune
38: Battousai
~*~
Tales of the deadly skill of Hitokiri Battousai were
constant rumours and targets of gossip from Kaoru's early childhood all the way
up to her late teen years. Even during his disappearance from the light of the
world, traveling in the shadows and out of the people's sight, whispers of his
presence were constant and outrageous, ranging from accounts of his many
assassinations to a vivid description of the man himself, a monster in the
darkness who could slay a man without effort or feeling. A demon who had the
ability to hide himself so well that no one, even the greatest of the Bakumatsu
warriors, were able to see him. A living devil with the ability to kill in cold
blood and walk away without remorse in his heart or blood on his clothes.
She was never truly afraid of such rumours; they never touched her, really,
and for what reason did she have to feel fear at something that may not even
exist?
When the supposed Battousai was slaughtering people in the
streets in the name of the Kamiya dojo, she felt no fear, only anger. How dare
he try to tarnish her name, this manslayer who knew nothing of her or her
father. She never stopped to think of why he might be committing such atrocities
- a killer of such demonic rumours would not care about the dreams of a single
girl - and focused instead on the defeat of the apparently invincible assassin.
On the night a seemingly innocent, soft-spoken and foolish rurouni wandered
into the picture and saved her life, she paid no heed to his appearance.
Certainly he was unusual, with the strange-looking crimson hair and scars, but
foreigners had been a part of Japan longer than she had lived - the wanderer
really couldn't have been much older than she - and a swordsman was sure to have
scars, especially if he was as weak as he looked. She chose to ignore - or did
not think of - the combination of red hair, two crisscrossing scars, and the old
stories of Battousai. She did not see that the offender didn't match the
description at all.
A few days later she learned the truth, witnessing the real Battousai in
action. It was not the giant, overbearing man with a cruel voice and mocking
laughter, nor was it a shadowed demon whose very eyes could tell a man they were
walking dead.
It was, instead, a seemingly innocent, soft-spoken and foolish rurouni, who
had the ability to sweep through a room of men without killing a single one,
despite the rumours that speak of his deadly swordsmanship.
The same rurouni who, calling himself a wanderer that never knew how long he
would stay or when he would leave, remained in her home the rest of his life.
She thought that was who Battousai was. A quiet,
confident, yet smiling swordsman who could deal with his opponents and go back
to the ritual of everyday without blinking. A friendly, yet distant seeker of
justice and and peace.
She realized, eventually, how wrong she really was.
She caught a brief glimpse of him when Jinei kidnapped her and nearly had her
killed to draw Battousai's true nature out of Kenshin. The flicker of speech
changes - ore, among other things - the disappearance of his eternal
politeness, the dark change of his eyes. Each a strange, terrifying sign of the
coming danger, combining to show one single, inevitable thing: death was coming.
Her fear - not of Battousai, as some might have believed, but rather of
losing Kenshin - was so great that she somehow broke free of Jinei's trap, at
the same time freeing Kenshin from the grasp of the hitokiri lurking within him.
She thought this time that she knew what Battousai was.
The appearance of Saitou proved her wrong yet again.
The Kenshin that faced Jinei was angry, insulting, and fiercely calculating.
He knew exactly what to do and he did it, quickly and effectively. Focusing on
his opponent's weak points, he brought him down with little effort and was
prepared to kill him, with only the slightest of hesitations.
The Kenshin that faced Saitou was cold; colder than he had ever been.
There were no words, no pleasantries, no insults. It was pure skill, deadly
efficiency with the mark only a professional could carry. This was
Hitokiri Battousai, and despite the even fight between himself and his opponent,
he was truly matchless.
"Come here so I can kill you."
"Next swing... your head will fly."
"Your life has been spared."
"As long as these hands can reach them..."
Battousai was a swordsman, born and bred. He was made of
all that was cold and intolerant in the man known as Himura Kenshin, a shield, a
facade with a scattering of truth to protect the part of himself which could not
bear the thought of taking another life. But, as Kaoru gradually learned, it was
still Kenshin, and nothing could change that. There was a strength and willpower
that could never, ever be discarded, and as his wife, she knew she had to accept
all of him, not just the parts with which she was most comfortable. It didn't
take her long to discover, however, that there was nothing to fear. Even in his
darker, more dangerous mentality, there was nothing in his mind that would allow
him to hurt her.
'But I knew that before, didn't I?'
'I knew that.'
After Kyoto, there seemed to be no need for Battousai.
Kenshin was able to depend on his own strength, the strength of the rurouni,
fighting continually to protect, to save, but never to kill.
"As long as these hands can reach them, I won't allow anyone to
die."
A sword is meant to kill, he had told her when they first met, when
his own sword had saved her from death. But he also said how much he wished that
her dream would someday become reality.
'You are making it reality, love,' she thought to herself, a
smile spreading across her face. 'Each time you use your sword for the sake
of another... you are proving that those words are wrong.'
'... I'm so glad.'
"I'll protect you."
The world no longer needed the sword of the manslayer, Battousai, anymore...
but she was happy to have him with her, nonetheless.
~*~
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