'No killing,' Kaoru had said once, when they were still trying to get use to the world and the strange new rules their lives were being governed by. They had been working as guards, he still carrying a sakabatou and she a simple bokken. Their weapons changed over the years though still they were never weapons for killing, both he and her having nothing to do with actual death, though both were such masters at the weapons that they could kill even with a non-lethal blow. But as the world faded and numerous horrors rose, they switched to more lethal methods.
Kenshin still carried his original sakabatou, but paired with it was another sword, the swords sitting easily on his hip. On the other side was a gun, though truth be told he never seemed like a man who would actually use it as more than for warning. He never seemed to be much of anything but a good husband, a wonderful cook and the general voice of calm to the more emotional Kaoru. They balanced each other in ways others might have noticed but didn't actually see that while he may have held her back on more than one occasion, she always kept him from pulling the Sakabatou Keishi's dark twin when he attacked.
And now she fell as the bridge collapsed.
If he had been quicker, and not at the lead of their group, he might have stopped the collapse in time. There had been a number of occurrences around them in the past few years, people gone missing or deaths that did not quite added up. Kenshin had been wary around Haytham as those numbers kept climbing but did not voice his suspicions because he had been wrong before. He had once seen assassinations when there were none.
But.
He had been Hitokiri Battousai. The years and the Meiji government might have finally buried those acts in exchange for his help in bringing down Shishio, but he did not forget them. How could he forget the smell and feel of blood, the plots and the secret ways inside the halls and the streets of Japan? There were always ways. He would be a fool to dismiss those ways.
Hitokiri wa hitokiri...
A part of him was screaming even as his hand drifted to the dark twin's hilt, fingers curling around the sheath as he stopped in front of Haytham and locked eyes with him.
no subject
Kenshin still carried his original sakabatou, but paired with it was another sword, the swords sitting easily on his hip. On the other side was a gun, though truth be told he never seemed like a man who would actually use it as more than for warning. He never seemed to be much of anything but a good husband, a wonderful cook and the general voice of calm to the more emotional Kaoru. They balanced each other in ways others might have noticed but didn't actually see that while he may have held her back on more than one occasion, she always kept him from pulling the Sakabatou Keishi's dark twin when he attacked.
And now she fell as the bridge collapsed.
If he had been quicker, and not at the lead of their group, he might have stopped the collapse in time. There had been a number of occurrences around them in the past few years, people gone missing or deaths that did not quite added up. Kenshin had been wary around Haytham as those numbers kept climbing but did not voice his suspicions because he had been wrong before. He had once seen assassinations when there were none.
But.
He had been Hitokiri Battousai. The years and the Meiji government might have finally buried those acts in exchange for his help in bringing down Shishio, but he did not forget them. How could he forget the smell and feel of blood, the plots and the secret ways inside the halls and the streets of Japan? There were always ways. He would be a fool to dismiss those ways.
Hitokiri wa hitokiri...
A part of him was screaming even as his hand drifted to the dark twin's hilt, fingers curling around the sheath as he stopped in front of Haytham and locked eyes with him.
"Why?"