Ode to a Slasher

On a night like this, dark, deaf, and gloomy, anything can happen, especially something that repeats itself almost every night. Every night, because on the streets, in the dark corners, in the alleys, screams are heard. The scream of another victim, whose breath is taken away by the sight of an unknown

figure. At the sight of those golden, piercing, terrifying, murderous eyes. And no one sees anything more in those eyes. No one... except me. I see... I see sadness, regret. Resentment towards the entire world. And the question: What have you done to me? And I don't hear the scream of another victim, for their cry is silent as the cry of a fish in water. I hear this other one. The scream of a desperate, destroyed heart, crying for help, suffering, longing for something different. Because the heart of a murderer suffers more than his victim. He dies every time he kills someone, every time he pierces someone's heart, his own is pierced by a pain a hundredfold greater. With each new blow, another pain, another heart lost, another life taken, another misfortune, another regret and sadness. Such is the lot of a Slasher. You can't help it, Slasher, they order you, you do it. No one asks your opinion, no one thinks about how you feel as you take another life. No one knows what you feel, no one cares for you. No one...

I care for you, I know what you feel. Because I've come to know you, Slasher. I've come to know you so well that I understand your thoughts, your regrets and sorrows. I've seen through your eyes, and I know that even as you strike again with your sword, another stream of blood flows, you lose another heart, you lose your life, and in time, you will die of grief. You can't stand it anymore; your heart is too good, too golden. You love life too much, you love people too much. Even as you rush like the wind after your next victim, spinning and slashing with your sword, you cut your own soul and body along with another. One day it will kill you, ruin you, massacre you. But you can't stop. You know you're doing this to save another life. By taking one, you save another, and at the same time... you lose your own. Such is war. But the outer war isn't the most important. More important is the inner one, which burns in the golden heart of the golden swordsman, the Slasher Battousai, a professional killer and master of the sword.

In this place, in this moment, I wish to tell you how this encounter between an innocent soul and a heart of gold came about. How I survived the encounter with the Slasher and saw through his soul.

He stood there. In the rain, amidst puddles of blood. At his feet, another dead body. Blood flowed down his sword. Down his cheek, down his arms, down his clothes... blood everywhere. And I, standing there, unable to move, silently begged him not to notice me, but... it was impossible. Then... I'd heard of him... a ruthless, merciless killer who wouldn't even let his victim utter a sound. I thought it was over. And he thought so... but... The witness's blue, glassy eyes begged him for mercy. He knew he couldn't bear it. She saw him, but... so what? The invisible, elusive Battousai was seen. Just like then. Just like when he met her, who later died at his hands. No, he won't make the same mistake twice. So the Slasher takes my hand and leads me to the alley to kill me, I think, but he... He asks me for my name. And tells me to forget. Forget everything. Including the movement of his sword, his speed, his... voice, his face, his eyes. Including the victim.

But I... I can't forget, I tell him how I feel, my heart won't forget such a sight so easily, it will haunt me at night for the rest of my life... And about that... Me too. But... what does that mean? Wait, his eyes... They aren't the eyes of a murderer... They are the eyes of a child... frightened, terrified... Wait, his face... It may be scarred by two scars, but... young... Yes, the Slasher is younger than me, still a child. So... Why, I ask? He doesn't know the answer himself. Once again, I look into his eyes. I listen to his voice, metallic, confident, serious, yet terrified... at having to kill again. Then I understood. The fear left me completely, and pity took hold. I felt pity for this lonely man, alive in body but dead in spirit, this young man. My heart almost died from despair. And his, once again. That's what he said. He's lost his heart many times, along with his soul, which he sold to the devil. And he won't get it back, probably never. No, Weaponer, you're wrong

, I said... When the war ends and peace comes, you won't kill anymore. You'll protect people. With the same hand you kill, you'll protect people one day. Until you atone. What? You say you'll never atone? Because no one will ever forgive you? No one, ever? Never say never, Mr. Weaponer. If... even one person forgives you... will you try? Will you protect people? Promise? Since you promise. You know, I forgive you... What? I smiled faintly. You know, I said, turned around, and walked away a bit, and after a moment... I whispered softly,

"I'm going to say goodbye to my father..."

Battousai's golden eyes widened in surprise. He couldn't have known he was killing my father. And he couldn't know... how grateful I was for it... how much I hated my father. The more I hated my father, the more I loved that murderer. The more my heart beat for him, the more hearts he killed.

From then on, I knew where and when he killed. I met him again and again, and he trusted me more than himself. And though I never learned his true name, though he never heard mine, we understood each other without words. Like two halves of one heart. Mine, filled with slowly fading hatred for my father and a constant, slowly developing love; his, filled with sadness and a growing love. And though it didn't last long, though I didn't even try to extinguish the murderous fire that burned him from within... we were both happy. Together, we watched the night sky and counted the stars. He used to say that shooting stars were the souls of the people he killed. And it was always true. Every time he lost a life, a star fell, as if the soul wanted to return to earth. It consumed me inside to think of how much he suffered. So I tried to convince him that a shooting star was a soul yearning to offer forgiveness to its tormentor. I repeated it ad nauseam... and I think he finally believed me.

I remember the first time he gave me a smile, pure, gentle, kind. Like no other person's. I call our time together a one-night dream. Because it always left unexpectedly, like a dream that ends every morning when you wake up in your own bed, happy or not, that it was just a dream.

But... one day, he was gone. He didn't clean up his tracks, which meant he was just there to do his job. He didn't wait for me. I understood. He couldn't risk me any longer. We understood each other without words, so I guess I could easily deduce that, too, right? I suffered for a long time... too long. That's why, when the news reached me that Siepacz had supposedly died at the hands of government troops, I thought I'd join him myself. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't take the life he had once spared... I tried to live life to the fullest, happier than ever. And though I missed him terribly, I knew I had to live and believe that I would see him again. Even when I was completely losing hope, I remembered his gaze and the smile he gave me one last time.

And six years later, when the war was over... I happened to meet a wandering samurai with a cross-shaped scar on his cheek, who, instead of a real sword, used a reverse-bladed sword. I might not have recognized those eyes, that face, that voice... but I did. Immediately. Though he had changed beyond recognition. He wasn't the same Weaponer anymore. He was a different man. Cheerful, with an eternally smiling face, with eternally smiling blue eyes... I knew he only had golden eyes... when he was Battousai. And that meant the Weaponer was gone. Vanished forever. He had transformed into a wandering samurai, helping all those in need with his sword... but not killing. He had transformed into the "Golden Man." As golden as his heart. And... and finally, I learned his name... Kenshin... Himura Kenshin. ^-^