Though it was "just a drama,"
Gao Mengwen had already invested far too much emotionally in Kenshin and Yukishiro Tomoe.
And now, her heart ached like it had been stabbed.
Blood soaked through Tomoe's white robes.
The assassin leader looked at her in despair. With his final breath, he uttered:
"I'll never understand women…"
Indeed—how could he possibly understand?
Why would Tomoe, in this crucial moment, sacrifice herself to protect the man who had killed her fiancé?
Tomoe fell backward into Kenshin's arms.
Specks of blood dotted her pale skin, and in her clear, jet-black eyes, the reflection of Kenshin's tear-streaked face flickered.
Her hands—nearly torn apart by the assassin's dagger—still gripped it tightly, afraid he might use it to harm Kenshin.
Even with his vision not yet fully recovered, Kenshin understood what had just happened.
Blood from the cross-shaped wound on his cheek—cut by Kiyosato—dripped down onto Tomoe.
This shot—this composition—
The snow might've looked low-budget. The temple behind them was modest, even crude.
But the sorrow and suffocating emotion in the frame—
It hit almost every viewer like a punch to the chest.
[What the hell?!]
[Writer, are you a monster?!]
[The screenwriter is the guy playing Kenshin. Look at his face.]
[What kind of twisted mind does this have?!]
[Can she still be saved?!]
[Forget it. She's done for. That diagonal slash cut through her shoulder and organs. No way she survives.]
[From shoulder to clavicle—arteries, everything. Even in modern times, if someone got cut like that outside an OR, they'd be dead.]
[Wuwuwu… Tomoe… Why did I watch this show?]
[Should've just ended after Episode 3. That would've been perfect.]
[Guys, I can't breathe. I feel lightheaded.]
The bullet comments exploded as a dam had burst.
Gao Mengwen had already gone through several tissues.
She couldn't understand—why did the writer have to do this?
What's wrong with a happy ending?
Why?
But the story kept going.
Tomoe lay in Kenshin's arms, gazing at his crying face and the bleeding scar on his cheek.
There was no fear in her eyes—only tenderness.
She raised the dagger she'd snatched from the assassin—
And gently, horizontally, made a small cut across Kenshin's face.
Forming a cross.
A cross-shaped scar.
Gao Mengwen was shaken to her core.
This was the meaning behind Episode 4's title.
"The Cross-Shaped Scar."
If Kiyosato's vertical cut had left a wound full of lingering hatred that never healed—
Then Tomoe's horizontal slash severed that grudge.
She couldn't take revenge on Kenshin.
She couldn't stop loving him.
But she also couldn't forget the fiancé who died chasing his dreams for her sake.
Saving Kenshin, dying by his hand—
Perhaps that was the only way she could remain true to both men.
Only now did Tomoe finally smile—free of hesitation, free of secrets.
Her first true, open smile to Kenshin.
"I'm sorry,"
"Husband."
That word—husband—
It completely shattered Gao Mengwen's defenses.
And raised the tragedy to its highest, most soul-crushing point.
A bullet comment floated by:
[Only now could she forget her guilt toward Kiyosato and call Kenshin "husband." Tomoe used her death to redeem her love for the enemy. And Kenshin, who swore to protect her, ended up being protected by her—and killed her with his own hands.]
Tomoe's hand slipped from the dagger. Her breath faded.
And at that moment, Kenshin's cross-shaped scar stopped bleeding.
Kenshin's expression twisted in grief.
He tried to cry out—but no sound came.
He just held Tomoe's body, tears falling silently.
And the audience, watching from behind their screens, couldn't take it anymore.
[WHAT IS THIS?!]
[Was this necessary?! Seriously?!]
[You didn't have to kill her! You sick writer!]
[Knew it. With Shinozaki Ikumi involved, no way this ends clean.]
[Rurouni Kenshin isn't a bad drama—it's the best show I've seen this year. But the writer and producer? They're trash. No sympathy.]
["They"? Who's "they"?]
[Exactly what I said. Not human.]
[There could've been a happy ending… Why not?! I can't accept this.]
The viewers were furious.
But their anger wasn't directed at the story itself.
Because deep down, they knew—
That cross-shaped scar Tomoe gave Kenshin, and his final awakening—
Elevated the story to something greater.
From the grudge-filled wound in Episode 1,
To the healing of that grudge through a new, painful scar—
This narrative choice pushed both Kenshin and Tomoe's characters to their peak.
But anger doesn't just disappear. It had to go somewhere—
So it went straight to the writer.
Though, in truth, their outrage came too soon.
If 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' had ended here,
It would already be an outstanding, emotionally devastating story.
But it wouldn't have been a masterpiece.
No—
The truly heart-wrenching part began after Tomoe's death.
The story continued.
Late night.
In the small cabin where Kenshin and Tomoe once hid away.
Kenshin sat inside, sorrow etched into his face.
Tomoe's body lay still.
"Now I finally understand your pain.
You must've hated me…
Must've been hurting so badly."
"But you still protected me.
Someone like me…
You let me live."
Kenshin looked at her.
"So now I must carry this pain and seek redemption.
To repay the life you gave for mine—
To atone for the blood I've spilled."
Yes—
Following Tomoe in death would be cowardice.
She didn't die so he could chase her into the afterlife.
If he truly wanted to end this chaotic era—
Then he had to stay alive.
And see it through.
The Tomoe she loved wasn't the killer who cut down her fiancé.
Not the executioner.
But the man who, despite the agony of killing, endured it all for the sake of a better future.
Gao Mengwen wiped away tears from the corners of her eyes.
The story wrapped up.
The traitor Iizuka was exposed and assassinated by another elite fighter sent by Kenshin's organization.
Kenshin's superior—Katsura—came to find him.
"I've dealt with the traitor, Iizuka.
When you left Kyoto, I asked Miss Tomoe to be your sword sheath…
But now…
I'm sorry, Himura."
"Katsura-san. I'll keep wielding my sword."
"I'll wield it until this era of chaos ends.
And after that—
I will never kill again."
Kenshin looked at Tomoe's body.
After Katsura left, Kenshin made up his mind.
The BGM began to swell.
"Tomoe, I'm going."
He gripped his sword—
And set the entire cabin ablaze.
Tomoe's body turned to ash in the flames.
The song "In Memories A Boy Meets the Man" began to play once more.
Its haunting melody and the weight of the moment made Gao Mengwen's skin erupt in goosebumps.
What followed was the most breathtaking battle sequence in all four episodes.
A montage of fight scenes, showing Kenshin over time—
A man who had found his reason to fight.
His purpose.
His love.
His eyes no longer wavered.
He returned to Kyoto, sword in hand, fighting to overthrow the rotten old regime.
No matter the odds—
He never backed down.
From that day on, Kyoto had a new legend.
A man with a cross-shaped wound.
The Reaper of Kyoto.
But this Kenshin is no longer assassinated in secret.
No longer hid his face.
No longer hid who he was.
He faced the likes of Okita, Saito, and the Shinsengumi head-on.
Gao Mengwen didn't dare blink.
This was hands-down the highest-level swordplay in the entire show.
Blade against blade.
Killing intent clashing with killing intent.
When the BGM reached its climax—
The montage showed day after day, year after year—
The battle never ended.
The killing never ceased.
At night, Kenshin curled up, asleep—
Wrapped in the scarf Tomoe had given him.
No longer lost.
No longer uncertain.
And then came the scene that shook Gao Mengwen more than anything:
The night wind lifted the scarf.
A fleeting silhouette appeared behind Kenshin.
Clad in white.
Cool and graceful.
She gently embraced the sleeping Kenshin from behind.
Gao Mengwen's tears poured again.
This—
This was too much.
She understood the meaning:
That wasn't a ghost.
It wasn't Tomoe's spirit haunting Kenshin.
It was a symbol—
Of how, even though she had died—
Her love, and the time they shared,
Would forever guard his heart.
It had become art.
Gao Mengwen didn't know how to describe it.
An indescribable heaviness.
A grief so raw—
But not for a second did she regret watching this show.
She cursed the writer in her head—
But she also applauded them.
For creating a story so moving.
The ending credits rolled—
Still filled with war and fighting.
But when the ending song ended—
The old regime in Kyoto had crumbled.
New leadership had risen.
The chaotic era was finally over.
Kenshin watched it all quietly—
And the coldness in his eyes slowly melted.
Finally, the camera returned—
To that familiar mountain.
Where Kenshin had buried the thieves and the women he once protected.
Hiko Seijuro stood there, offering wine to the forgotten souls.
And in the blood-red sunset,
A new grave had been added.
On the cross-shaped gravestone,
A scarf fluttered in the wind—
The same scarf that had carried Kenshin through countless bloody nights.
Seijuro closed his eyes.
He understood now.
His student…
Had walked a path just like his own.
The memory of Kenshin's initiation echoed.
"Kid, what's your name?"
"Shinta."
"Too soft. From now on, you'll be called Kenshin!"
The final shot—
"'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' — The End."
Gao Mengwen's breathing trembled.
She wanted to curse someone out—
But couldn't.
The sorrow was too much.
It poured straight from her heart.
She was still reeling from the ending.
Even though the show had made her cry multiple times—
When it ended, not even for a second did she hesitate—
In her heart, this was now a masterpiece.
Without delay, she opened the comment section.
She couldn't hold back.
This was a god-tier show.
And the writer was a god-tier storyteller.
Which meant—
They deserved to be cursed out.
Otherwise, next time, he'd definitely keep writing tragedies.
Within two hours—
Several keywords related to 'Rurouni Kenshin' Episode 4 shot to the top of the SakuraNet trending charts, all driven by fans' fury.
By midnight—
Three of the top five trending topics were angry posts targeting the screenwriter Su Yan.
Another targeted producer is Shinozaki Ikumi.