Chapter 1: A New Player
Running. All he could remember was the running. He stumbled on the refuse that always seemed to litter the streets of Kyoto, feeling the pain in his side flare up as he landed. The fear in his mind blocked out any attempt to hide or cower: they were still after him.
Who they were did not matter to him as he forced as much air into his tortured lungs as he could. He silently cursed his bastard father for failing them all so completely. They'd killed everyone without provocation or remorse, and he fervently prayed that the hated man was slowly being ripped to shreds and roasted over an extra hot spit in Hell for betraying his family's fragile trust. But the footsteps of his pursuers were slowly gaining on him and he had no time to relish the image. He only had time to run if he wanted to survive this night.
~~Flashback~~
Night fell gracefully as Kenshin swept the porch of his father's tiny dojo. Even at the awkward age of seven, the boy could understand what such a peaceful moment meant. He ran his small hands through his blood-red hair and turned thoughtful violet eyes to the equally bloody sun squatting on the horizon.
"More blood will be spilled this night," he murmured as he resumed his sweeping. These days it seemed that every sunset told this tale. It therefore did not strike him as significant that the gods had decreed more bloodshed. The war that raged outside his peaceful bubble meant little to him. What he knew of that world was what he heard in the middle of the night. His father ranting on about the impertinence of the rebels challenging the stability of the Shogunate regime and the need for shadow assassins like himself to stop the madness. His mother quietly pleading with her husband to stay with her and protect his family. The man never stayed long at home, and in the last two years he hadn't come home at all. Only the continued influx of money from the Shogunate confirmed that he was alive at all.
The boy's frown deepened. He'd heard his mother's desperate sobs when she thought they were all asleep and hated his father all the more for her tears. It infuriated him that-
"You mustn't destroy my good brooms with your brooding, my son," a gentle woman's voice said behind him. The frown instantly disappeared from his face, chased away by his mother's voice. Tomoe Gohei was a beautiful woman who epitomized grace in his mind. She was tall and proud, with long ebony tresses that fell down the length of her back, tied at the nape of her neck and left to fall free otherwise. She was soft-spoken, but had an inner strength of spirit that he'd always admired. The boy often wondered what she saw in her killer husband - for killer he was. But eight years and four children later, she still had sweet words and gentle embraces for the man who'd always seemed too busy to be a father to his children or a proper husband to his wife.
"It's time for dinner, little man."
Kenshin grinned broadly up at his mother for the endearment. As the oldest of her children and the only male, his mother had long ago conceded that he was the man of the house when his father was away. The boy took that responsibility as law. He never let himself quarrel with his sisters and he never let harm befall them. They all resembled their mother in one way or another after all, a woman that the young boy placed over all others.
Akane, the youngest, came bounding into his arms as he entered the cramped little room the family always dined in. He laughed; it didn't matter what was happening around the two-year-old, when her brother came into her line of sight, she immediately had to be as close to him as possible. He picked her up happily, sitting her in his lap as he attempted to feed her the rice gruel his mother had made for her. But the little girl was much too excited to eat and his other two sisters laughed with abandon to see their brave, serious, young protector covered in the soupy white mess that was meant to be the toddler's dinner. The boy was almost tempted to be angry at them for their glee, but one look at his mother's carefree face and he knew that he could never do such a thing. Their happiness was his, after all.
He desperately wanted to believe that he'd known something was wrong when he'd heard the insistent pounding on the dojo gates, but death was at his heels and he did not want to taint the memory of his mother and three sisters with lies. In truth he'd simply assumed that it was the latest payment, albeit a little late in the day for such a thing. His mother had risen to get the door, her delicate brows knitted in worry, but Kenshin had stopped her, claiming his duty as man of the house. He'd run out to the door, only to have the gates burst open when he was halfway to them. The boy rolled out of the way of the half-dozen men on horseback just in time, noting that the men looked determined and demonic by the light of their torches. Then a piercing shriek rang out over the noise of those thundering hooves before being abruptly cut short and his blood froze. He ran to the tiny bundle of cloth and broken bones, not realizing that he was screaming his youngest sister's name until one of the horsemen turned and almost ran him through. Again Kenshin rolled out of the way, but felt cold metal slide into his side as he took Akane with him. The adrenaline in his system did not allow him to feel it much and he ran into the darkness, carrying her light body.
"Akane? Akane!!" He shook her desperately as he ran, hoping against hope that the toddler had merely been stunned. When he looked down into her tiny broken face, however, he knew that she was dead. Her large brown eyes, eyes like her mother's, stared directly in front of her as they must have when the horses trampled her. There was blood everywhere; too much blood for one so tiny to lose and live.
"AKANE!!"
"NOT MY BABIES," a desperate shriek answered his own. Quickly placing his baby sister on the ground, he sprinted towards his home, determined to protect his family. He stood frozen in place at the sight that greeted him when he reached the dining room. Both of his sisters were pitched over the table, dead if the alarming amount of blood spilling freely onto the floor was any indication. His mother was cowering in the corner, sobbing freely and almost completely obscured by the remaining four men gloating over her. Glancing to his left, he saw that one of the men was nursing a very nasty cut down the length of his arm. The man stared daggers at the woman as his blood mixed with the growing pool of the boy's sisters'. The man to his right was not moving at all.
"Why? Why them?" a broken voice demanded, pulling his attention back to his mother. "Why did you kill my children??"
"The war is over, woman," one of the men, obviously the leader, spat angrily. "Your husband gave us quite a bit of trouble before we could kill him, so we felt that we should return the favor and send the rest of his brood to Hell to be with him." He laughed cruelly as Tomoe bent to the ground, beyond the ability to voice her anguish and pain.
"We give you the gift of death, Gohei-san," he bowed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. She looked up at him, something cold and hard in her expressive brown eyes, but then she caught sight of her only son and joy suddenly suffused her features. Time seemed to stop as brown met violet for the last time and she saw his eyes darken and change to a glowing, rage-filled amber.
"Run, little man," she whispered. "Live for us, Kenshin."
Uchi looked at the woman in confusion. He'd been anticipating her hatred, had decided to wait until she turned her full hatred on him before sending her to the afterlife. But now she looked as if she was ready to welcome death. He slapped her harshly and turned at the sound of a furious grunt. The woman's oldest brat stood in the hole the men had made when smashing through the wall to destroy Fugisawa's legacy. His small frame would have looked almost flimsy if not for the gaping wound in his side, a dagger held steady in his grip, and his unearthly amber gaze.
"If you'd been smart, you would have died with your sisters," he smirked, giving an imperceptible nod to one of his comrades. Kenshin screamed as the underling lifted his mother up by her hair and slit her throat mercilessly. She seemed at peace, even as her lifeblood ran from her and across the room to join her daughters'.
'Live for us,' her eyes seemed to say before closing forever.
Kenshin did not wait for the chortling men to drop her dead body before he fled, hamstringing as many of their horses as he could reach before bolting out the gates.
"I won't die," he ground out, putting on more speed as the men gave chase.
~~End Flashback~~
But after hours of dodging and losing his assailants in the streets of Kyoto made alien by the night, he only wanted to sleep. His wound bled freely despite his clumsy attempts at binding it on the run and he felt as if he were suffocating on his grief for the family he'd lost. And still they pursued him, these men who proclaimed the dawning of the Meiji Era and yet did not hesitate to murder defenseless woman and children in cold blood. They didn't deserve to kill him, these cowards who slaughtered families under the thin excuse of retribution.
He barely noticed the people running around him, obviously victims of the same fate of his own. The streets were slick with the blood of innocents whose only crime was the blood in their veins. He felt as if his might go mad with that knowledge. The boy sped up suddenly, tapping into some unknown reserve of energy in his determination to live.
'Live for us, Kenshin.' The words banged and clanged through his head, forcing his feet to move despite his absolute exhaustion.
"I won't die," he muttered angrily, turning yet another corner.
He hadn't expected the girl turning that same corner and plowed directly into her. He clenched his teeth, fully expecting the ground to meet him, but the girl wrapped thin, strong arms around him and swung back around, smashing into the wall beside her to slow them both. They stayed that way for a long time, each struggling for precious oxygen as the screams of the dying sounded all around them. When he could speak again, he looked up, only to have the apology die on his lips. The girl was stunning. Her wide innocent eyes were deep and as expressive as his mother's had been. They stared up at him from a face as dark as the milk chocolates his mother had once bought during a day trip to Kyoto. Her thick lips, lips that would never need cosmetics to appear fuller, were turned up in a soft smile as she looked him over. She was obviously a very strong girl to redirect both of their falls as she had. Yet she looked fragile in her worn, dull grey kimono and equally faded maroon obi. He looked up again into her kind eyes and felt as if he were drowning in them. His mind could not have been blanker.
I'm sure you've noticed by now that I've taken a number of liberties with the Kenshin timeline, throwing around a number of relationships in the process. Let me assure you, the reader of a few things before proceeding to the next chapter:
1. I don't intend to reveal the identity of Kenshin's father at any point in this fanfic, as it doesn't have any relevance to the story. So don't let the name fool you.
2. Yes, Tomoe was Kenshin's mother in this timeline instead of his eventual wife. I put a bit of Enishi-like worship in the young Kenshin for effect.
I'm not finished changing things by a long shot.
Please look forward to the next chapter!