"I've got control," the other Kenshin thought as he pushed forward, taking over. The Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan's glow dimmed as Kenshin's hair turned jet-black, signaling the shift.
He knelt beside Akane, gently cupping the left side of her face. His touch was soft, almost tender, as if trying to remind himself of what he had been moments away from doing.
His right eye activated, and within seconds, Akane's injuries faded. Her body, which had been wracked with pain, now felt whole again, even better than before. Her breathing steadied, her left eye perfectly restored.
Kenshin forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "I'm sorry, nee-san. I… got carried away." His voice, while calm, carried the weight of what had just occurred.
He pulled away, standing with deliberate slowness. Without another word, he formed the dragon seal and muttered, "Collective restoration."
A wave of chakra spread through the village, invisible but powerful. The wounded civilians, the Grass shinobi who had fallen, and even Maki—all were healed in an instant.
But Kenshin was far from finished.
His dark gaze shifted to the village leader's son, who was cowering in fear, paralyzed by what he had just witnessed. Kenshin moved towards him with slow, deliberate steps.
The adamantine sealing chains began to slither, their sharp tips poised. Without hesitation, Kenshin grabbed the man by the throat, the sharp spikes of the chains piercing his skin but stopping just before reaching his flesh.
His right eye's ability remained active, preventing the man from passing out or dying, forcing him to endure the agony.
"Let's get you out of that skin," Kenshin said coldly, his voice steady, devoid of mercy. "And believe me, it's nothing compared to the pain you and your village caused Yukari Uzumaki."
With terrifying precision, Kenshin began to peel away the man's skin, his chains doing the gruesome work. The man's screams filled the air, echoing across the now-silent village as the layers of his skin were slowly torn away.
Kenshin's expression remained eerily calm, even as the screams became more frantic, the pain unbearable.
When the man's skin was fully removed, Kenshin dragged his exposed, raw body to the snow-covered ground, rubbing the exposed flesh into the icy soil.
The cold air stung his nerves, and his groans turned into pitiful whimpers. Kenshin continued, relentless, until there wasn't a single inch of skin left untouched by the coarse ground.
Finally, Kenshin deactivated his right eye's ability, allowing the man to feel the sweet release of death. His body went limp, lifeless, as Kenshin stood over him, his work complete.
As Kenshin's hair returned to its usual dark red, he collapsed to his knees. The other Kenshin relinquished control, slipping back into the depths of their shared consciousness, leaving the reincarnated Kenshin unconscious.
Akane, still trembling, slowly crawled toward him, her body shaking as she gathered him into her arms. "Kenshin..." she whispered, tears blurring her vision as she cradled his limp form. "Why? Why am I so weak?! If I was strong enough, I could've stopped him."
Her heart ached, a crushing guilt pressing down on her as she cursed herself for not being able to protect him from his own darkness.
Later that afternoon, Kenshin stirred awake, his eyes slowly blinking open. His head felt heavy, resting on something soft. As his vision cleared, he realized his head was on Kana's lap.
Her hands, gentle and warm, stroked his hair with a mother's tenderness. Beside him, Akane sat quietly, her gaze distant yet ever-watchful. Yukari lay beside him, her frail frame motionless but serene.
"Kenshin-sama," Yukari's voice cracked through the silence, weak but filled with gratitude. "I'm grateful for you standing up for me. If you hadn't come at that moment, I might have been dead now."
Kenshin's jaw clenched at her words. He could hear the sincerity in her voice, but he also recognized the undercurrent—Yukari wasn't just thanking him; she was trying to ease his guilt. The very guilt that twisted deep in his heart.
He had stood up for her, yes. He had no regrets about attacking that vile village, making them pay for what they had done to her.
But Akane…
His eyes, almost reflexively, drifted toward her. She sat by his side, but as soon as he caught a glimpse of her face, the flashes came—blood streaming from her head, her eyes wide with pain and confusion. His chest tightened, and he immediately averted his gaze, unable to bear the sight.
"I… I didn't mean to—" His voice was hoarse, broken, as if the words themselves were a struggle.
Akane, quiet and composed, reached out to touch his arm. But Kenshin flinched away from her hand, turning his head into Kana's lap, shutting his eyes tightly as if willing himself to disappear.
Akane's touch lingered in the air for a moment before she withdrew, her expression soft but full of unspoken emotion. She wasn't angry—she knew him too well for that. But the damage, even if unintentional, was done.
"Don't push yourself, Ken-chan," Kana whispered, her voice soft and soothing, trying to comfort him as she continued stroking his hair. But even her warmth couldn't touch the growing darkness gnawing at his soul.
Kenshin's breathing grew shallow. His mind was a storm of conflicted emotions—rage at the village, pride in protecting Yukari, and this deep, suffocating sorrow that came from hurting the one person he could never bear to harm.
Every time he thought about Akane, the flashes returned, stabbing deeper and deeper into him. How could he have done that to her?
He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the rising tide of self-loathing. He had failed her. He had failed himself.
"I shouldn't have... I should never have..." Kenshin's voice trailed off, unable to form the words.
He stayed curled up against Kana, feeling small, broken, and unworthy of the love and care he was receiving. The weight of his actions hung over him like a shadow, and for the first time in a long while, he felt truly lost.
Yukari's gratitude couldn't reach him. Kana's affection couldn't mend the growing rift inside. And Akane… He couldn't even look at her without feeling the crushing weight of his mistake.
The room was quiet, the tension thick and suffocating, as Kenshin's depression began to take root, pulling him further into himself.
The silence in Yukari's small, dimly lit room was broken by the soft creak of the door. Yuki and Maki stepped inside, their presence immediately noticeable.
Kenshin's eyes barely shifted, but when Yuki's gaze met his, she quickly looked away, trying to avoid the weight of the tension in the air. She put on a smile—forced, fragile, and too eager to be normal.
"I've spoken to the leader of the Grass Village," Yuki began, her voice steady despite the hidden tremor. "He asked us to feel free to take Yukari-san with us. He's extremely sorry for what happened, for what his son did."
She glanced at Kenshin, but then quickly turned her attention to the others. "He... he wants to put it all behind us."
There was a stiffness to her words, something that didn't sit right. Kenshin knew better than to believe that the village leader would simply forget that his son was killed. It was too convenient, too diplomatic.
Kenshin's eyes narrowed, but he didn't speak. The flashes of Akane's bloodied face haunted him, and he couldn't find his voice.
"Kenshin-sama," Yukari spoke gently, lying frail beside him. "Thanks to your ability, I'm recovering now. We could leave as soon as you're ready, or perhaps in the morning." She turned her pale face toward him, her gratitude sincere. "It would be best to reach the Leaf Village as quickly as possible."
Kenshin barely acknowledged her, his gaze avoiding Akane's. The guilt was a crushing weight, her bloodied face replaying over and over in his mind. How could he face her?
His heart tightened painfully, and though he had no regret for tearing down the Grass Village, striking Akane, the one person he vowed to protect, had left an irreparable scar.
He closed his eyes briefly, trying to push the image away, but it only deepened his turmoil.
Meanwhile, Yuki, who kept her smile up for the sake of the room, was struggling inside.
When Kenshin had grabbed her throat, she'd wanted to calm him, to reason with him, simply out of trust. In just ten days, he had become someone she wanted to protect, someone earnest, someone kind.
But when his hand had tightened around her neck, and his Eternal Mangekyo Sharingan glowed ominously, she saw something terrifying. His power, his rage—it felt inhuman.
Her instincts told her to fear him, to keep her distance. And now, as she looked at him resting on his mother's lap, Yuki fought back her rising fear. Every part of her experience screamed that Kenshin was dangerous.
Yet, a small part of her, a whisper among her doubts, still wanted to trust him, to believe that the boy who'd rested his head on her shoulder after training wasn't a threat.
That tiny voice tugged at her heart, but it was so faint, buried beneath the weight of her fear.
Yuki's forced smile lingered a moment longer before she turned to Maki. "It might be best if we set up camp outside," she suggested, her voice light and practical. "There's not much space in here for all of us. Besides, someone needs to keep watch."
Maki nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it'll be easier for us. We'll get everything set up."
Akane glanced at Kenshin, a flicker of worry crossing her features, but when he refused to meet her gaze, she stayed silent. Yuki gently placed a hand on Akane's shoulder. "Come on, let's give them some space."
Reluctantly, Akane stood and followed Yuki and Maki out of the room, leaving Kenshin alone with Yukari and Kana. The door closed softly behind them, leaving a thick silence in its wake.
Kana looked down at her son, his head resting in her lap, his face shadowed by his unruly hair.
She reached out, her fingers gently brushing through his hair before leaning down to kiss the top of his head, her touch tender, filled with the weight of a mother's love.
"Ken-chan," she whispered, her voice soft but carrying a heaviness that mirrored the tension in the air.
Kenshin remained still for a moment, the warmth of his mother's kiss bringing a brief sense of comfort.
Then, without a word, he wrapped his arms around her waist, clinging to her as if afraid to let go. His head pressed deeper into her lap, and slowly, silently, the tears began to fall.
They weren't loud, desperate sobs. No, they were quiet, restrained, almost as if Kenshin didn't want to be heard. But his grip tightened around his mother, and Kana felt the weight of his grief as his body trembled in her embrace.
"I didn't want to hurt her... I didn't want to hurt Nee-san..." Kenshin's voice cracked as the words spilled from him, his throat thick with emotion. "I was just so angry... at the villagers... for what they did to Aunt Yukari."
The raw pain in his voice was enough to break Kana's composure. She had never seen Kenshin cry like this—not since the day he lost his father, more than 8 years ago.
Her heart ached for him, and despite her efforts to remain strong, her own tears began to fall, sliding down her cheeks as she held him tighter.
"Ken-chan," she whispered through her tears, her voice trembling, "I know. I know you didn't mean to. Akane-chan knows too... she knows you would never want to hurt her. After all, the love you two have is greater than what most people do. Not even death could diminish your love."
Kenshin buried his face deeper into her lap, his sobs becoming more uncontrolled. Kana could do nothing but hold him, her hands gently running through his hair, offering the only solace she could.
Kana held Kenshin as his sobs slowly quieted, though the weight of his grief remained heavy in the room. She continued to stroke his hair, her own tears falling in silent streams as she whispered soft reassurances.
But nothing she said could ease the ache in his heart. The love and comfort she offered were all she had, though deep down, she knew that Kenshin's internal wounds would take far more than words to heal.
The scene shifted to the clearing outside. The air was still, and the faint crackle of a newly lit campfire filled the silence. Yuki, Maki, and Akane were gathered around it, each of them sitting on the ground after finishing the task of setting up camp.
Yuki cast a sidelong glance at Akane, her brow furrowed with concern. Akane's movements had been mechanical, her eyes dull and vacant, as if she were somewhere far away.
Even now, seated by the fire, she stared at the flames, her face devoid of expression.
Maki sat across from them, occasionally glancing up from the fire as she sensed the tension lingering in the air.
Yuki, after hesitating for a moment, reached out and gently pulled Akane close to her, resting the younger girl's head on her shoulder.
"It's okay, Akane," Yuki whispered softly, her voice carrying a warmth that belied the fear she had felt earlier. She wrapped an arm around her, trying to offer comfort, though her mind was still haunted by the events of the morning.
Akane remained silent for a moment, her face pressed against Yuki's shoulder. She was trying to act strong, to hold it all in.
But the facade she wore began to crack, and despite her best efforts, her tears began to fall, her body trembling as she let out a small, choked sob.
Yuki tightened her grip around her, resting her chin atop Akane's head. "You don't have to hold it in, Akane. You've been through so much…"
Akane shook her head weakly, her voice barely audible as she spoke through her tears. "I should've been able to stop him… I'm the older one, his Nee-chan… I'm supposed to be stronger. We're the same, Kenshin and I—same blood, same eyes, same power. But… I couldn't even hold him back."
Her hands clenched into fists as she continued, her voice breaking. "All I did was get hurt… and he—he had to pull himself out of it. I couldn't do anything… I just made everything worse. And now… now he's hurting because of me."
Yuki listened, her heart aching for Akane. She knew how much Kenshin meant to her—how much they meant to each other. But Yuki also understood Akane's self-blame, that gnawing feeling of helplessness when you fail to protect the ones you love most.
"Akane… you did what you could," Yuki whispered, her own voice thick with emotion. "Kenshin is strong, and so are you. But sometimes, even the strongest people need help. You didn't make anything worse. Kenshin loves you, and that's what brought him back. You're not weak, Akane. You're human."
But Akane couldn't hear those words. She couldn't escape the shame that twisted in her chest. She felt pathetic, like she had failed the one person she cared for most—and now, because of her, Kenshin was spiraling into darkness.
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Once again, thank you everyone for your continued support and power stones. And as always, please give me your power stones and comment your opinions. They make a big difference and motivate me to write more.