Stormy Skies

BY : jade1981
Category: Rurouni Kenshin > Yaoi - Male/Male
Dragon prints: 847
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Title: Stormy Skies
Author: Jade
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: OMC/Gentatsu, Shigure/Gentatsu, and probably others,I haven't decided yet.
Warnings: Extreme violence, m/m sex, AAAANGST
A/N : I was whining on one of the RK forums that there's no Shigeru/Gentatsu fic on the Net and one of the other members told me to stop complaining and write one myself.So here's my baby.Be gentle, I write very rarely.
Also, while in that fic there IS an OFC as a main character she's not a Mary Sue.The main reason for this is the fact she doesn't fall for any of the guys and she has flaws. K?
Disclaimer: These are so not mine. *sniff sniff* I'm borrowing them just for a bit of fun for myself and a lot of pain for them and after that I'll give them back.Sadly, I make no profit out this.Many thanks to Wombat for being such an wonderful beta reader!I love you girl!

Part 1

Walking. . . Waiting. . . Alone without a care
Hoping. . . hating. . . things I cannot bear
Do you think it's cool to walk right up
And take my life and **** it up?
Wedid did you?
"Slept so Long" by Orgy

It was a quiet, clear night. The full moon changed the bamboo leaves to silver in the warm and fragrant summer air. But despite its beauty, the night was much too quiet. There was no wind, no sound of cicadas or other life - everything was unnaturally silent in the bamboo forest surrounding the charred ruins of the Aizu castle.

Then suddenly, a distant clapping of hooves could be heard: horses running madly. The forest itself was opening its green arms to let the intruders in. Because it was afraid. The carriage drawn by those horses held a creature which nature itself had shunned, a curse against all living things.

Finally, the carriage stopped. The door opened and a tall man stepped out. Black velvet robes swathed his entire body, but the hood lay loosely across his shoulders, fully revealing his features to the moonlight. One could say he was a handsome man, even a beautiful one. But one could also say that the gleaming blade of the katana is beautiful when it takes life in the grip of a master swordsman; or that the anchenche is beautiful when tumbling down mountain slopes in all its white glory, wiping out everything in its path. Yes, one could say that.

He had painfully white skin, silver and translucent in the moonlight, framing chiseled features and dark eyes. What set him even more apart was his snowy white hair that contrasted with his youthful appearance.

The man gracefully took a few steps forward. Here in the forest, there was a lonely grave at his feet: the grave of a man who had been slain years ago, a man who had followed a path of violence, and yet a man who had principles and a noble soul. The perfect choice for the robed stranger's plan.

He crouched at the gravestone and gently wiped the dust from the name. A cold and cruel smile graced the bloodless lips.

"Takatsuki Gentatsu"


Shigure tried desperately to swallow his scream of pain as the whip bit into his flesh again and again. But kami, it hurt so much. He could fhis his blood seeping from the wounds on his back, slowly dripping down to the dirty ground [floor? courtyard?] of the Miyamoto mansion. But even as the blows become more and more vicious, he did not try to struggle, fighting neither the bonds that bent him in place nor the fiery agony in hick. ck.

It wouldn't be right to say that he liked the pain. He didn't. But he wanted it. More than anything. The pain from the whipís harsh strikes were his penance, like the even harsher thrusts of his master into him after the beating was over. He deserved it. He deserved every hit, every thrust, he would always deserve them. They were his rightful punishment for his failures. For letting Gentatsu die. For betraying his beliefs. For leading all those boys to a bloody and meaningless end. For failing to protect Toki, his only legacy from Gentatsu.

'I should have died then. . . It should have been me' Shigeru thought, slowly losing consciousness.


Miyamoto Hiroyuki did not like it when his pet was not conscious enough to feel HIM. In his mid-forties but still well-built and without a single white hair, the man looked at his slave.

How much he enjoyed seeing him like this - writhing in agony at his feet, golden skin covered in crimson blood, those brilliant green eyes closed as he struggled not to scream. But no matter how much his servants beat him, no matter how much HE fucked him mercilessly into the ground, this slave would never scream. Ever. For the two years he had owned this gorgeous creature, not once he had uttered a single sound.

The government official who had brought the bound man to him had said that he was a present from the Meiji Government to be broken and never set free again.
That suited Miyamotst fst fine. He did not know whos mas man was and had no idea what he had done to get such treatment, but he didn't care.
The only thing that interested him was making his new pet scream, to force him into pleasure.
Yes, that was the only thing that interested Miyamoto Hiroyuki about his slave.


'I've always imagined Japan would be colder than this' thought Iante when she disembarked from the merchant ship.

Not that the climate had any importance to her. For all she cared, it could be freezing cold or boiling hot. It didn't matter. The only important thing was that HE was here. She had finally followed his bloody trail through half the world and was reto kto keep following him straight into Hell itself if she had to. Knowing him, it wouldn't be that improbable.

Her fingers gently traced the burnt mark on her hand - a crow in flight, wings wide open, bringing a message of sudden doom. Oh, yes, she would follow him to Hell itself.

But the BIG question was: What the hell was he doing here?!
What was he looking for? His actions always had a reason, this couldn't be just a sightseeing trip to Japan. He wanted something. But WHAT?

To that question, Iante did not know the answer. She had managed to gather only bits and pieces of information - the stolen book of the Necronomicon had found its way into his hands, six women had been murdered ritually in Korea, six more in China. All of them with magical abilities. All of them healers. But why twelve? Why not thirteen if he was trying to create a soul circle? Maybe he had found the thirteenth woman here in Japan. She couldn't possibly be a healer. She had to be a worrior.

How many warrior women were there in Japan now? How many of them with magical abilities? There shouldn't be too many.

But all this was only a theory and nothing else. Those murders could have had an entirely different reason. And she had to find what, ie wae wanted to end his sinister plans. And Iante was ready to do it by any means necessary. As they say:
"Hell hath no fury as the woman scorned"

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