Yeah, it's out. ::Siew Lee rejoices around her computer:: Highests credits
go to Rhionae and Hiko (the ultimate nice person in this world) for
pre-reading this fic and also to Serizawa-san, Daniel and Miss Led (thank
you for those pics!) for helping me on those questions. =) Special credits
also go to Susan-san for being so helpful, especially on the history part.
(Yeah, yeah, I'm a Science stream student and I sucked at History...) Thank
you's also go out to those wonderful people on the Kenshin Fanfic
Discussion List who gave their help and support. =) You guys know who you
are. 

Anyway, I intend to make this fic an epic (if time permits) and it is going
to be divided into three or two parts. =) For Aoshi worshippers, this fic
is going to focus on Aoshi *all* the time and that makes him the hero here,
instead of Kenshin. =) Er, not hero actually. Here, we will see how Aoshi
gets into the Oniwabanshuu in the first place. ::evil grin:: You guys won't
belive how much fun I had when I made Aoshi... cry. =) 

This is my first *serious* Rurouni Kenshin fanfic and I really hope you
guys will give me some feedback or comments. 

Siew Lee 
Drifting Fragrances - http://members.dencity.com/hiei/kenshin.htm 
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			Dreams in the Dark 

	    Part 1 : Embracing the Sword (Chapter 1) 

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	 ~~~ Summer, 1857 - in the outskirts of Edo ~~~ 

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	Darkness. 

	It was all around him, smothering him. 

	The rhythmical splashing of raindrops echoed in his ears 
endlessly and the cold assaulted his wracked body without mercy. His 
face was buried in his arms, his body already numb and wet. A gust of 
cold air blew past and he shivered uncontrollably. His feet were blue 
from the cold as he had lost his shoes when he ran and ran from his 
home. 

	Ten days... It had been ten days. 

	Suddenly, there was a loud noise above him. He looked up, only 
to see bits of the clay tiles on the roof being blown away by the 
savage wind, leaving the rotting structural wooden beams behind. The 
boy ignored the rain, letting it wet his body. 

	He had been through conditions worse than that. There were days 
when he would eat dirt and grass just to fill his empty stomach. 
There were also nights when he would lay his head on a boulder to 
rest his aching body. 

	Tears came. 

	Loud sobs escaped from his throat as his fragile self lay 
huddled in a corner, the slick and wet wood supporting his entire 
body weight. Lightning flashed across the skies. They were beautiful 
indeed, but the power and strength they showed were more than 
frightening. To the little boy, they were nothing if compared to the 
terror and horror which he witnessed. The temple in which he had 
sought protection from the merciless weather was slowly crumbling 
away under the bad weather but the boy stayed rooted there, his legs 
too tired to carry him any further. 

	With a careless wipe by the sleeve of his ragged gi top, the 
little boy gathered himself and stood up. Puddles of muddy water 
dominated the barren earth and the soft ground sank dangerously 
beneath his feet. He steadied his balance by holding onto a broken 
wooden pillar with his trembling hands but slowly let go. The ancient 
statue of Buddha in the abandoned temple loomed behind those doors 
but the little boy stood outside the old building, seeking only 
minimal protection from the rain before the edge of the roof was 
blown away. His blood stained clothes burned his body and he stared 
at them unblinkingly. Painfully, he tried to croak out a word, but 
his throat was parched. He tried again; this time, he barely 
succeeded. 

	"Kaasan..." mumbled the little boy as a tear slipped past his 
left eye. He looked at the front panel of his tiny cotton yukata and 
saw it stained red in color. 

	"Touchan..." 

	All he could remember was the terrified screams of his mother 
when the attackers raided the outer branch of the Matsudaira 
household. *Touchan was screaming something... Something about the 
house of Watanabe...* whispered the boy silently but he never got to 
listen to the entire word for all he had heard after that were 
screams and shrieks. Those memories would never fade no matter how 
hard he wished they would. 

	"Watanabe! Watanabe! Watanabe!" screamed a voice in his mind 
and young boy snarled fiercely at the word. Those eyes... That man 
was holding his baby sister and threw her high in the air, aiming the 
sharp katana beneath her. He had to bite his fingers to avoid 
screaming when the crying bundle slid down from the tip of the sword 
to its hilt, her blood staining the blade a bright crimson hue. 

	There was no more crying, only the booming sound of the 
ninja's sadistic laughter. 

	He would remember that insane look in that man's eyes forever. 

	The little boy kneeled down on the ground, ignoring the 
dampness that attacked him. *Kaasan...* wept the boy. He could never 
retell the horror and grief which overwhelmed him when he climbed out 
from the covered well where he sought asylum during the onslaught. It 
was like a sword being driven through his heart when he saw a 
familiar figure lying on the floor in a puddle of blood. 

	He had seen enough of these things. 

	"Kaasan!" he remembered screaming. He stared at a long gash 
along her arm and shriveled back in fear. He had accidentally cut 
himself once before and it hurt. Now, a gash about a foot long 
adorned his mother's arm and fresh blood was still gushing from it. 
Tears brimmed beneath his eyelids just to see how much pain and 
suffering his mother was forced to endure... Suddenly, the woman's 
eyes fluttered open and gazed at him. The boy edged closer, ignoring 
the blood which had soaked his knees and gi top. 

	"Kaasan?" 

	"Come here, Shi-chan... Come..." whispered the woman in a 
barely audible voice. Tears brimmed from her eyes as she struggled to 
sit up. The boy nodded and tried to help her up, calling her 'kaasan' 
in fearful whimpers. The woman gritted her teeth and reached behind 
with her uninjured arm to tear off her obi. With blood dripping from 
her chin, she drew her finger across the puddle of her own blood and 
began writing on the cloth with soft agonized moans. He looked 
fearfully on, his innocent eyes not understanding a single word 
before his mother finished scribbling on her cloth belt and stuffed 
it into the inside of his gi top with a shaking hand. Bearing the 
pain, the woman reached into her kimono and removed a copper coin 
strung on a red string. Weakly, she pulled the boy closer and placed 
the string around her son's neck. Slowly, she slumped down again, 
tears rolling down her pale cheeks. 

	His mother's last words still echoed in his mind when he tried 
to lift her up again: "G... Go... Go and find someone named 
Tsunashige Makimachi of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu clan... He, as the  
Okashira, will help you... Let him read this letter and show him the 
coin, and he will help you... Shi-chan, take good care of yourself 
and seek vengeance for us when you are strong! Remember, seek 
vengeance..." 

	The boy shook his head violently and cried, incoherent sounds 
erupting from his very core. He couldn't understand what was going 
on! He was frightened and scared; those gory scenes flashed past in 
his mind continuously. Fresh blood was trickling from the edge of her 
mouth as she coughed up mouthfuls of the sticky red liquid when she 
spoke to him for the last time. One sleeve of her purple kimono was 
torn off and long gashes adorned her upper torso. When she hugged 
him, he could heard her anguished breathing. 

	When she died, her eyes remained open. The light in them... He 
would remember his mother's final expression. 

	He shook her, called for her, but she remained motionless on 
the tiled floor. He hugged endlessly, but her body was getting colder 
and colder with every second that passed. 

	It finally dawned on him that kaasan would never kiss him, hold 
him or even talk to him ever again. 

	It was this far that his short legs could carry him and he 
collapsed weakly face-first onto the soft ground. 

	When was the last time it has rained? 

	The boy looked up at the darkened sky with dimmed blue eyes, 
relishing the rivulets of rain that ran down his cheeks, mingling 
with his tears. 

	He knew the answer. 

	It was just two days ago that it had last rained, but it had 
rained blood. 

	Giving a shrill cry, the boy crawled towards the entrance of 
the old temple and heaved himself onto the doorsteps. He looked 
directly at the serene statue of Buddha and softly whispered, "Lord 
Buddha, where is kaasan? Lord Buddha, where is kaasan? Let me be with 
kaasan!" 

	Slowly, his vision blurred and the objects around him seemed to 
have double outlines. A spinning headache set in and even that speck 
of light in his unconscious mind was effectively shut out by the 
reigning darkness. 

	Before long, a small body lay motionless on the doorsteps of 
the abandoned temple. 

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	Steady footsteps drew nearer and nearer. 

	A figure towered above a slumped little body. The rain was 
slowing down and it was just a soft drizzle over the barren plains. 
The storm had just calmed down and droplets of water from the 
wide-rimmed straw hat dripped onto the ground. The man tore off the 
black veil which covered the lower part of his face and tucked it 
away in his uniform. 

	"Little boy..." called the man, his dark mustache and goatee 
bristling at the sight of the dried blood on the boy's clothes. 
Gently, he bent down to roll the boy face up and gasped a little. 

	"Kami-sama... Ichiro-chan?" half-shouted the man, shaking the 
boy's arm violently. *No... It can't be... Ichiro-chan is long 
dead...* whispered a voice skeptically in his mind. The man shook 
free of the voice and took a closer look at the boy. Gashes and 
bruises adorned his chest and his eyes were squeezed shut. His face 
was ghastly pale and his dark hair was plastered on his forehead. His 
fingers reached down to feel the boy's limbs and he moved his hand 
away reflexively. "Kami-sama... Is he dead?" muttered the man and 
began rubbing his hands against the boy's cold body. 

	"Poor thing..." whispered the man and kneeled down on one knee, 
a hand stroking the boy's silky hair. Suddenly, something within the 
boy's clothes caught his eye. 

	He narrowed his eyes. No, it wasn't mere dirt or debris, but 
it was a piece of fabric and there was some scrawling showing 
through. 

	With tentative fingers, the man reached down to retrieve the 
cloth from the boy's chest. Flipping it open, his eyes widened. 
*No... This can't be... Ieshige Matsudaira can't be dead!* thought the 
man frantically, sitting on the ground weakly. *No, it can't be. If 
there was an onslaught in the Matsudaira household, why is everything 
so spick and span? There were no telltale signs of blood too...* He 
heaved a depressed sigh and closed his eyes for a moment, suddenly 
too tired to think anymore. Blinking them open, he quickly scanned 
through the rest of the letter. *Too late... Okashira, it's too 
late... * mumbled the man and gritted his teeth, his eyes staring at 
the boy. 

	"I failed the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu... I failed my lord..." 

	Stealing another glance at the unconscious boy, the man folded 
the letter and proceeded to slip it into the inner folds of his ninja 
uniform. *Better not to let him know about this... He's too young. 
Lucky thing, he is still very much alive.* Tearing off his cloak, he 
wrapped it around the fragile body and proceeded to carry the boy 
inside the temple. He looked around, his bright eyes searching for 
some twigs within the old temple. 

	Very soon, a warm bonfire was crackling merrily in the midst of 
the ruined building. The man stroked the boy gently on his head and 
took off his outer coat, covering the shivering boy with it. 

	"Matsudaira Aoshi, ne? Don't worry, my boy, you will live 
well... I'll get you to Okashira," whispered the man and flashed a 
small grin. 

	The man smiled a little and leaned back, drifting into the Land 
of Dreams. 

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	"Kaasan!" A shrill scream pierced through the silent night and 
a figure sat up straight, haggard breathing filling the air. Beads 
of sweat rolled down his forehead and his cotton yukata was damp from 
a mixture of perspiration and rainwater. There was a tingling 
sensation in his limbs and he shivered uncontrollably in the 
coldness. He stared at the cloak which kept him warm and wondered, 
*Who gave me the cloak? Was that you, kaasan?* A few embers burning 
brightly in the night caught his attention and he looked at them 
curiously. *Kaasan? Did you see me shivering in the cold and you gave 
me those embers to warm me?* 

	They gave out warmth and comfort, almost as if he was lying in 
his mother's arms with the silky fabric of her kimono rustling in his 
ears. 

	*Kaasan? Is that you? I miss you... Where are you?* 

	Suddenly, there was a nip by his toe, followed by a flurry of 
movements, and a long and scaly object flicking against his ankle. 
Slowly, he looked at his foot and a pair of beady eyes stared back at 
him. 

	"Kaasan!!!" screamed the boy and cried out loud. "Nezumi, 
kaasan!!!" shrieked the boy and tried to crawl away. The rat gave a 
few squeaks only to prompt more fear in the boy. The rat stood up on 
its hind legs, its whiskers twitching and sharp canines appeared in 
its mouth. Aoshi took a deep breath and began edging away inch by 
inch, his legs threatening to buckle beneath him. The rat squeaked 
again and scurried off, leaving the poor boy alone. 

	Aoshi heaved a soft sigh of relief and steadied his shaking 
legs, preparing to go back to sleep. 

	Suddenly, something grabbed him by the scruff of his collar and 
lifted him up. 

	Aoshi screamed again and began crying. *Kaasan had said that 
there were vampires and ghosts in the dark...* Softly, that *thing* 
whispered in his ear, "Little boy, don't ever scream like that at 
night or those evil demons will come and get you..." 

	With his legs kicking at nothing, Aoshi let out a high pitched 
scream and struggled, his fingers clawing at the intruder's sleeve. 
"Wah... Kaasan... Nezumi desu... Tamashii desu..." 

	"Now the rat is gone. Sit down and sleep. We need to get to 
Kyoto fast..." sighed the man in a softer tone and set Aoshi down. 
The boy scurried to a corner and sat down, his blue-gray eyes staring 
curiously. "...and don't ever scream like that again." 

	With frightened tears running down freely, Aoshi buried his 
head into the sleeves of his dirty yukata top and sniffled. The man 
heaved a sigh and walked towards him. *Children... I hate 
children...* Kneeling on one knee, the man reached out a hand and 
stroked the boy's tousled dark hair. "Now, don't cry anymore. Get 
some sleep and we'll get to Kyoto as soon as possible to meet 
Okashira." 

	Aoshi peered up, his eyes red and swollen from crying. "Who are 
you?" asked the boy weakly, his voice trembling from fear. "Are you 
going to kill me?" 

	The man smirked and laughed. "Matsudaira Aoshi, who do you 
think I am? An assassin? You wouldn't be talking to me right now if I 
were employed to see that you vanish forever from the face of this 
world." 

	"Who are you?" repeated Aoshi slowly, his fists all balled up 
until his knuckles turned a ghostly shade of white. "How do you know 
my name?" 

	"I'm Okina, a loyal member of the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu," 
whispered the man into the boy's ear, pretending not to know anything 
about the Matsudaira disaster. *Now... I have to make him trust me in 
order to get him to Kyoto... C'mon, Okina. You are an expert in 
spying and don't tell me that you can't successfully lie to a six 
year old boy,* hissed a voice in his mind. 

	*Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu*. 

	That very phrase instantly rang a bell in Aoshi's mind. 
"Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu..." mumbled the boy softly and his clear eyes 
instantly looked up at the man. Quickly, his fingers closed around 
Okina's uniform. "You are from the Onmitsu Oniwabanshuu? Really?" 

	Okina nodded solemnly and flashed a lopsided smile. "Why? Is 
there anything? I just happened to pass by," he lied to the boy and 
watched his reaction. *Yeah, yeah, I know I'm late. Don't remind me 
of that.* 

	"Kami-sama..." mumbled the boy and sprawled forward, landing on 
all fours. His little fingers closed around the leg of Okina's 
trousers and gripped tightly, tears brimming in his eyes once again. 
"Please... Kaasan asked me to find the Onimitsu Oniwabanshuu to help 
me..." wept the boy and tugged. 

	"What happened?" asked Okina, interested to hear the other side 
of the story. 

	"I don't know... Kaasan just woke me up and forced me to hide 
inside that well... When I managed to climb out from the well, kaasan 
and mouto-chan were already dead..." sobbed the boy endlessly. 

	"Do you know who attacked your kaasan?" 

	"I could only see his eyes and hear his voice..." 

	"Never mind... I'm sure Okashira can help me... Now, don't 
cry... I'm scared of people crying like that," reassured Okina and 
patted the young boy softly on his head. 

	*Who is this boy's father anyway?*

	*Why did Okashira ask me to come all the way to this place just 
to protect them?* 

	*What have they done to meet with a full onslaught from their 
enemies?* 

	"Will you get me to the Oniwabanshuu?" asked the boy 
frantically again and clawed at the sides of his arms. 

	Okina sighed again and gently pried the boy away from his arms. 
*I hate answering questions.* Turning his focus onto Aoshi once 
again, he promised, "I'll make sure you get to Kyoto safe and sound." 

	"Promise?" 

	"Promise." 

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	*You shouldn't bring the boy along. You don't know whether he 
is actually Ieshige Matsudaira's youngest son or not! He might be a 
fake!* whispered a voice softly in his mind. Okina's eyebrows met in 
a slight frown. It had been one full week since he had found the 
unconscious boy in that abandoned temple. 

	He sighed again for the tenth time that hour. Aoshi was 
sound asleep beside him and there was no-one around in this little 
wooden shack. Not that he had no money to buy them a night's stay in 
a local inn, but he didn't want to arouse suspicion from anyone. 

	He studied the young face which was twisted in an agonized way. 
*So young, so pitiful...* Reaching behind him, Okina removed a pair 
of wooden weapons and began polishing them with one end of his sash. 
Staring ahead, he swung his tonfa at an imaginary enemy and 
snickered. 

	"Kaasan!" a sharp scream pierced the air followed by severe 
thrashing and Okina winced inevitably. Slowly, the screaming subsided 
and tears began slipping down the boy's cheeks. 

	Gently, Okina took the end of his sash and brushed away Aoshi's 
tears. Leaning back against a wooden wall, he fiddled with his tonfa 
and closed his eyes slowly. *Just one more day to Kyoto... What 
should I tell Okashira? I have failed in this mission...* 

	Going to Edo had been a tough decision on him. A very tough 
one for he had buried too many of his secrets, too much of his past 
behind him. Okina reached out his fingers before his eyes and began 
counting. "Twenty years... It has been twenty years since..." 
whispered Okina aloud and paused for a while as bitterness washed 
over his heart. 

	Slowly, he continued, "If Ichiro-chan was still alive today, he 
would be four times older than this boy... Why did he have to die so 
early? Kami-sama is so unfair to me..." He inhaled deeply and snapped 
open his eyes. "Aoshi looks a lot like him..." 

	*Maybe I have committed too many sins in this life to receive 
such a fate with my only son dead.* 

	Okina refocused his attention on the boy. 

	"Little boy, I like you at first sight. I'll make sure that you 
get an audience with Okashira." 

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Copyright reserved 1999 W. Siew Lee 

All standard Rurouni Kenshin disclaimers apply to this fanfic. 

Author's notes: 

1. Japanese people are 1 year older from their western birthdates
traditionally. So, I have followed the biodata from an old issue of Shounen
Jump and added *one* year extra to their original ages (provided that I
count properly). =) I don't know how accurate the bios are, but please do
correct me if I made mistake anywhere. 

2. Since Aoshi and gang are ex-agents of the Tokugawa shogunate, I have
every reason to believe that they are still practising stuff that the Meiji
government tried to eliminate. Eg. Buddhism, and that's where that
abandoned temple comes in with Aoshi praying for his kaasan. ^_^ 

3. Er, I know Aoshi is *very* OOC (it's by intention) and I want to shape
him slowly into that emotionless fellow we see today. He's going to be full
of emotions until that part when he... Er, I don't want to give spoilers
anyway. 

Glossary: 
nezumi: rat ::evil grin:: 

Siew Lee - 14th of July, 1999 

E-mail: Siew Lee [wsiewlee@tm.net.my] 
URL: http://members.dencity.com/hiei 
UIN: #14025577 

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