Unease on the Homefront
Chapter One
He was propped up against the wall, with his legs folded Indian-style before him. His arms were loosely crossed; his right hand steadying his sheathed sword against his muscular, white-mantled shoulder, while the whole left arm was draped across his lap. Even though the confidence of the swordmaster was there, Kaoru could tell that something, she wasn't sure what, was amiss. There were dark shadows under Hiko's eyes that hadn't been there before, and a slight sheen of sweat shone on his brow. She remembered very clearly that, despite her worry for Kenshin that evening, concern for the man who had taught the hitokiri-turned-rurouni had begun to take root as well. Early in the afternoon of the day he'd defeated Fuji, he'd been standing. By the time Kenshin, Sanosuke, and Aoshi had returned, he was sitting down; looking much the same way he did now.
"What is he hiding from us that he's too proud to tell us about? Has he been injured in some way as well?" Kaoru wondered, as she watched the man sleep from her position beside Yahiko's futon. She jumped when he tiredly addressed her.
"Are you going to sit there and stare at me all night, Kamiya?" Hiko asked, quietly, as he opened his dark eyes slightly and gave her an annoyed glance. Kaoru shook her head.
"No. I was merely wondering why you haven't already left. I seem to recall that you're usually very solitary." Kaoru said, noticing when the man gave her a chagrined look.
"Don't remind me. With all the squalling your baka deshi was raising around here, I'm surprised my Baka Deshi didn't wake up and make that ridiculous 'Oro' statement of his." Hiko muttered, smirking when Kaoru rolled her eyes, and when Yahiko groggily gave him the finger. Hiko arched an eyebrow.
"It seems he's picked up a bit more from the Rooster-head that even you would care to admit." Hiko mused, smirking again when a growled 'Bite me' was heard from across the hall. Kaoru chuckled, then sobered.
"Hiko-san, may I ask you something?" Kaoru asked.
"You're going to anyway, so why bother asking me for permission to ask me something?" Hiko in turn asked, somewhat crossly. Kaoru ignored his tone, and continued.
"Hiko-san, did something happen between you and Kenshin before you came to help us yesterday?" Kaoru again asked, undeterred by Hiko's attitude. She was immediately aware when he turned his full attention on her; she could almost feel his ebony eyes boring holes into her.
"What makes you think anything happened, Kamiya?" Hiko asked, his voice taking on a very slight edge as he spoke. Kaoru shrugged.
"I don't know. Something about you seems different from when you faced Fuji. Is something bothering you?" Kaoru questioned.
"Nothing is bothering me, Kamiya." Hiko replied, stubbornly. It was Kaoru's turn to arch an eyebrow. She could tell that the man was hiding something; his adamant refusal to admit it being the biggest clue of all. But she wasn't going to get an answer this night, since Hiko was now stubbornly silent; ebony eyes reflecting obstinacy even she couldn't break.
The next morning brought the sound of rain to the weary ears of everyone in the Shirobeko. Hiko awoke to find himself still within the upper level of the restaurant. With a look of irritation appearing on his features, the swordmaster slowly got to his feet, hiding a wince when his body protested against the movement.
"I must leave now, otherwise I won't have the strength to do so later." Hiko thought, as he quietly left the room, careful not to disturb Yahiko while doing so. Yet, before he left the Shirobeko entirely, Hiko paid a silent visit to his ailing apprentice. What he saw brought dismay even to him. Kenshin lay almost as still as death on his futon, and the only way Hiko could tell that the younger man was still alive was by his shallow breathing, and the very slight presence that still emanated from his now frail frame.
"Shishio really did a number on you, Baka Deshi." Hiko thought, as he walked over and kneeled alongside the badly wounded rurouni. For a brief moment, the coarse and stern swordmaster fell away from the white-mantled man, leaving a concerned father in his stead kneeling there.
"I probably shouldn't leave; especially now, when he could die at any time. But that doctor Kamiya had mentioned earlier will have enough to worry about when she gets here. She shouldn't have to worry about a swordmaster who got hit by his own apprentice's attack." Hiko mused, gritting his teeth when he again got to his feet and slowly walked out. He was therefore unaware when the younger man's eyelids fluttered, and a single, whispered word escaped from between Kenshin's lips.
"Shishou…………."
Sae Sekihara sighed as she watched the rainfall. The Shirobeko had not quite opened for the day yet, so things were still quiet in the dining room and kitchen. She turned when she heard footsteps descending the stairs from the upper level, and was a little surprised to see the white-cloaked form of Hiko Seijuro appear before her.
"Ohayo, Seijuro-san." Sae said, politely. He merely nodded civilly to her in response.
"This is going to make walking home miserable." Hiko muttered, as he motioned irritably at the rain.
"Then why don't you stay here till it stops? I can cook you some breakfast while you wait." Sae suggested, knowing something wasn't quite right when the man leaned on the wall for a moment.
"Thanks, but no thanks. I'll be back in a few days to see how Kenshin is doing……….If he survives that long." Hiko said, before steeling himself against whatever discomfort he was in, and walking out of the restaurant into the pouring rain, quickly disappearing from sight as he moved on.
"Suddenly, I've got a very bad feeling about this." Sae thought, as a feeling of foreboding stole over her, and as she continued to look in the direction that Hiko had gone in. Little did she realize that her gut feeling would be proven right, in short order.
The ship had docked sometime late the previous night, yet the rain and the police force in Kyoto prevented the men on board from unloading the cargo from the hold. Grumbles and growls of malcontent were prevalent, as restless sailors glared out at the bad weather.
"Bloody 'ell! I wish we 'ad somethin' ta do, rather than just sit on our arses and wait for the bloody yellow men to decide whether we should unload or not!" one of the men complained, irritably.
"Aye, we all do. We got better things ta do than waste time in this godforsaken yellow man's port!" another agreed. They all turned when one of the other crewmembers spotted something outside.
" 'Ey! Mates! Grab a look at this!" another man shouted, as he pointed out the porthole at something on the docks. Curious to say the least, all of the men on board took a look at what their crewmate had seen. There, walking along the docks, strode a man. This man was unlike any the foreign sailors had ever seen; he was tall, with long black hair and equally dark eyes. his skin was well tanned, and he had the look and poise of an experienced warrior. But it was the cloak he wore that attracted the men's attention. It was pure white with blood red trim: it wasn't like anything the men had seen anywhere before.
"Oy, wouldn't that make a nice souvenir to take 'ome? That cloak would really stick out from all th' rest." The first sailor muttered, as he watched the man move confidently away from the docks.
"Yeah, it would. How's about we go and 'purchase' it from 'im? No one will care if a bloke like that goes missin'." The second sailor said, with an evil grin.
"I dunno, mates. 'E looks kinda tough ta me." Another sailor murmured, as he cautiously looked in the direction the cloaked man had gone.
"What're ya? A lad or a lass? Some 'o us are twice that bloke's size! If we all take 'im on together, then it should be no problem atall!" one of the larger sailors crowed, as he flexed his huge muscles for emphasis.
"Then let's go get that cloak, lads! Th' one who kills th' bloke gets it!" the first sailor shouted, getting yells of agreement from his crewmates. Within moments, they had broken out their guns and were ready for the hunt, their eyes glinting eagerly as they left the confines of the ship and went out into the pouring rain.
Hiko could sense he was being followed long before he heard the footsteps. He had taken a shortcut near the docks to avoid the deluge of people trying to find shelter from the rain, only to pick up some even more ominous shadows. When he paused beneath the relative shelter of some of the few remaining trees in the area, however, the rain masked the sounds he'd been hearing up until that point.
"Damned rain! I can't hear a blasted thing!" Hiko thought, in frustration, as he gripped his sheathed sword, ready for a fight. He didn't have to wait long; before he could even think of anything else, a gunshot sounded and a bullet sang past his head, opening a shallow wound on his face and imbedding itself into one of the trees behind him.
"Guns!" Hiko's mind shouted, as he leaped to avoid several more shots. He yelped in pain when two bullets found their marks in his legs, bringing him down with a crash. He could hear the sneering of male voices coming from all around him, and could tell that the owners of said voices were foreign; their accents gave them away.
"Aw, bloody 'ell! Got mud on th' cloak now!" one man's voice growled, in irritation. Fighting the pain haze that was starting to cloud his vision, Hiko struggled to get to his feet; valiantly ignoring the lancing agony when he put weight back onto his now injured legs. He knew now what it was the men were after; his mantle!
"I shouldn't have left the Shirobeko………….not with the way my ribs are. I think I am about to pay for my pride………………." Hiko thought, as he unsheathed his sword and took up a battle stance.
"Oy, a sword against guns? Who do ya think ya are, mate?" one of the other men sneered, cruelly.
"Someone with far more honor than the likes of you." Hiko snarled, then launched himself into battle. Faster than the eye could see, he took down man after man with what seemed to be ease, chopping their weapons in half as they fell. But, despite his best efforts, Hiko soon found himself surrounded. There were more opponents there than even he could handle in his injured state. For a brief moment, he stood there panting; struggling to breathe despite the fiery pain that was beginning to emerge in his chest.
"I can't keep this up for much longer." Hiko thought, as he got enough wind to lash out again. This time, things did not go as well as he'd hoped. One of the larger men was waiting for an opportunity like this, and swung his rifle like a club at Hiko's chest. The swordsman gagged when the weapon made contact, and Hiko could hear his ribs, some of which had been only cracked by Kenshin's blow, break. He landed hard on his back and slid a short distance before coming to a halt out in the middle of the street. Darkness surrounded Hiko then, and he drifted out of consciousness.
"Shishou!" a voice called, desperately. Hiko's mind responded to the voice by returning somewhat to consciousness.
"Ken………shin?" Hiko replied, his body arching in pain when he attempted to breathe.
"Get up, Shishou! Don't let them kill you! Get up! Go find Megumi-dono! Hurry!" Kenshin's voice said, urgently. Thinking for a moment to question his apprentice as to why he was doing the ordering around, Hiko slowly got to his hands and knees and stood up. Now he could see how many men he was up against; he had taken a good number of them out, but there had been more hidden in the wings. Foolishly for them, they had all exposed themselves from their hiding places when they thought he was dead, and now were at his mercy; even though they didn't know it yet.
"Dou Ryu Sen!" Hiko shouted, as he unleashed an attack, then launched himself into the air, flying over the men's heads and taking off down the road. The brutes did not know what hit them.
Meanwhile, at the train station, a certain female doctor was arriving. For a few moments, Takani Megumi stood in one place, scanning the crowd for any familiar faces.
"Count on Kaoru to not be here! Where could she be!?" Megumi wondered, before her attention was diverted to a commotion close by. To her shock, a tall man wearing a white mantle skidded to a halt and fell to his knees, coughing painfully and gasping for air. Physician's instincts taking over, Megumi put aside her irritation for the young kendo instructor and ran to the man's side. Her eyes widened when she saw blood in the man's hands, on his face, and on the ground in front of him.
"His lungs are bleeding………..could it be tuberculosis? If so, then I can do nothing for him." Megumi thought, grimly.
"Shh. Calm down. It's all right. Calm down." Megumi said, gently, when she saw how desperate the man's pain-glazed eyes looked. With expert ease, she brushed the man's long bangs out of his eyes, taking note of the high fever she found there as she went. His clothing was soaked by the steadily falling rain, much to Megumi's dismay, and it looked as though he'd run a good distance; as far as his current condition could allow.
"He looks almost as though he were chased here………I wonder what could have spooked so strong a man into flight?" Megumi mused, as some people stopped to watch her and the man; curious about the goings-on, and wary of the man himself. It was then that she noticed what appeared to be a bullet graze on his face, and the gunshot wounds in his legs, and some of the pieces started falling into place.
"Guns. So that's what he was running from. In that case, that makes him a sensible one." Megumi thought, as the man before her slowly started to catch his breath.
"Are you all right? Can you stand?" Megumi asked, as the rasping, shuddering, downright painful sounding gasps deepened a little, and the man looked her in the eye.
"Not…………..not yet. Chest feels……..like it's about to explode….." the man replied, his voice strained as he wrapped one strong arm around his chest and tried to steady himself.
"Then take your time to catch your breath….Can you tell me how you were injured?" Megumi again asked, gently.
"Baka………Deshi……..needed the last attacks of the Hiten Mitserugi Ryu……to fight against Shishio……….the last attack was meant to kill me……….but with that sakabatou of his………….it only broke bones. I got ambushed about twenty minutes ago…………" the man replied, painfully. Megumi's face blanched.
"Hiten Mitserugi Ryu? Do you, by any chance, know Ken-san?" Megumi asked. She was stunned by the man's next answer.
"Aa. I should…………..since I was the one who taught him everything he knows." The man murmured, his breaths coming easier now, since he was calming down.
"Then that would make you…………….." Megumi muttered, in utter disbelief.
"Seijuro Hiko the Thirteenth, master of the Hiten Mitserugi Ryu………and Himura Kenshin's teacher." The man finished, calmly, as he wiped the blood from his face with his mantle. Megumi would have continued to stare at the man, had it not been for the timely arrival of a certain kendo instructor.
"Megumi-san! Where are you? Megumi-san!" Kaoru's voice called.
"Over here, Kaoru!" Megumi replied, shaking herself from her stunned stupor and turning in the direction the voice was coming from. Within moments, Kaoru had jogged over, her relief over finding the female doctor turning to alarm when she saw who was with her.
"Hiko-san, what happened!?" Kaoru yelped, her blue eyes wide with horror when Hiko painfully got to his feet and blood dripped from the bullet wounds in his legs.
"You don't want to know, Kamiya. All I can tell you is that I shouldn't have even considered leaving the Shirobeko." Hiko stated, surprised when the woman shouldered (or tried to shoulder) his weight when his legs almost gave out from under him.
"We've gotta get you back so Megumi-san can have a look at your wounds! I knew there was something wrong with you, you stubborn baka!" Kaoru ranted, angrily. Hiko's eyes narrowed.
"Who're you calling a stubborn baka, tanuki?" Hiko retorted.
"Tanuki!? ARGH! Have you been taking lessons from Saito on how to insult people?" Kaoru yowled, furiously. Hiko offered her a ghost of a smirk.
"Possibly………" Hiko replied.
"Kaoru! Don't hit him! He's my patient!" Megumi shouted, as Kaoru attempted to deck the arrogant swordmaster. Unbeknownst to any of them, on the far side of town, a certain man with amber eyes, sneezed.