Chapter Two: The Wheels Are Spinning
Author's Note: First, I'm truly overwhelmed by the responses (and amount of response) I got. Just flabbergasted. Thank you…I was so sure that beginning stunk. On a side note, beware of late updates. My teachers have rediscovered homework; a plague on all their houses. May the termites get 'em. On Romance: Although I'm not focusing on the Kenshin/Kaoru relationship, it will be brushed over, and accepted as part of the landscape, as it is. But no substantial amount of screen time will be devoted to it…I think.
Disclaimer: If I owned RuroKen…I'd probably have to speak Japanese. I know 'snow' and 'demon' and 'little brother' and 'pretty'. Hardly vocabulary for a popular manga.
ON WITH THE SHOW!
Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so. —Douglas Adams
She tossed over and rearranged her covers for about the millionth time that night. Well, it probably hadn't been that many times, but it felt that way. The humidity wave that was torturing her body seemed to be messing with her mind too.
Grumbling, Kaoru shoved even the one remaining thin sheet off her and sat up. Brushing her dark brown bangs away from eyes still not encrusted by sleep, impossible in the cloying heat, she repented and folded the cover back neatly at the end of the futon. She grumbled wordlessly under her breath as she reached for the bucket of water and dipper that she'd brought into her room when she'd retired for the night.
It was empty. She'd been drinking from it impulsively all night, and it had become such a habit in a few hours that Kaoru hadn't even known she was doing it. Although she ran the darkly polished wooden dipper around the edges in the hope of collecting a little condensation, it was barely enough to wet the dipper, much less her lips and throat. Kaoru hopefully upended it over her head, to no avail.
Well, if she couldn't sleep anyway, it would take all of five minutes at the most to walk out to the well in the back area of her dojo and fill the bucket up again. In fact, if there was a spare left there, she rather thought it would be a good idea to take double the last amount. With the recent heat, she, her young student Yahiko, and Kenshin had gone through the corners of the Kamiya Dojo in search of anything that could hold water and was relatively portable, and left every bucket-like item by the well. The freewheeling ex-punk Sanosuke, of course, had not been there for the duration of the search, and had only showed up once lunch had been set out. Trust Sano to skip the work and freeload a meal.
Sliding open the shoji, she left her sandals by the door, walking barefoot through the dark halls of the house. Tiptoeing so as not to disturb Yahiko, who slept a few doors down, or Kenshin, who had excellent hearing and would no doubt be concerned about why she was up, she carried the empty bucket out of the room and through the outer doors without provoking any noise from the other inhabited rooms. Slipping the outer door closed behind her with barely a sound, she hopped from the porch and padded across the beaten ground of the dojo area, which was enclosed by walls on all sides.
Crossing the short few paces to the well, she lifted the rock that weighted the wooden cover off and placed it on the ground just behind her, within easy moving distance. Although not tremendously weighty, the stone had to be heavy enough to discourage any roving animals, such as a raccoon, from sneaking a free drink. With a wry smirk, she had to acknowledge that it didn't do anything to discourage roaming assistant dojo masters, but the contrast, and the near-immediate recollection of Megumi's favorite nickname for her, tanuki- or raccoon-girl, made the smirk drop into a scowl in a heartbeat.
Kneeling and filling her bucket before her sleep-deprived mind decided to drag up any other inanities, she glanced down into the water for a deliberative moment before leaning over the well and dumping the entire thing over her head.
Kaoru sighed in momentary blessed coolness for a moment before her sopping hair started sticking to her forehead, and the wisps that had sneaked free of her braid began to adhere to her neck. Scrubbing them away, she refilled the bucket before putting it down to wring the water out of her hair, which only soaked her white sleeping yukata even further. Looking down at herself, Kaoru winced. If she went back to bed like this, not only would she leave a long wet trail down the corridor floor, which would need drying and polishing, her futon would become even more nastily muggy than the air. With all her dry clothes inside, she had no choice but to wait for her yukata to dry after she had refilled her bucket.
Replacing the cover over the well, Kaoru sat down and stretched her hands over her head. Rising to complete the stretch, she shot an irritable glance at the sky. A few high wisps of cloud flitted quickly across the stars and in front of an almost half moon before passing out of her direct line of sight. Craning her neck backwards to follow them, she almost kicked the water-filled bucket with her bare foot when she stumbled over the same stone she'd moved not really all that long ago and definitely not long enough to have forgotten it, in theory.
She managed to avoid tripping over the bucket as well, but her balance was in grave danger for a few seconds as her free and dripping arms pin-wheeled wildly, scattering water droplets in all directions. As she swayed, she caught a glimpse of light coming from a more earthly source. Once she regained her equilibrium, Kaoru looked around the yard more closely.
Little flickers of candlelight leaked from the door to the main dojo hall, which appeared to be slightly ajar. Abandoning the water bucket, Kaoru dripped across the path to the dojo. Upon closer inspection, the light was definitely firelight. Cautiously, in case she was about to be attacked by a warrior holding a grudge against her or hers, and cursing herself for not having a wooden sword to hand, she pressed herself flat against the wall and looked cautiously through the gap between door and doorjamb with one eye.
At first she didn't understand what he was doing. Lit candles stood on stands, scattered at random throughout the large hall. They cast conflicting shadows on the walls, floor, and ceiling, changing with each wavering of each flame as well as with every movement of the swordsman practicing his art among them.
Squinting, Kaoru tried to judge whether he'd end up being annoyed that she'd ended up watching his training, although Kenshin rarely if ever got annoyed with anyone, least of all her. But as he spun, reverse-bladed sword flashing out and flying downwards barely an inch from a candle before avoiding a second by a hairbreadth, his drawn-back hair flew and she noticed what else was strange about this practice session.
Kenshin had his eyes closed, relying on only the impressions the light left on his eyelids and his memory of where the candles were to avoid knocking them over. He was doing a good job, too. As Kaoru watched, less afraid of being caught watching than before, he moved through a completely disconnected series of stylized—though highly battle-worthy—moves. They had no theme to them at all. It was if he was fighting a living opponent.
For a brief second after this observation occurred to her, the rather ludicrous thought of an invisible swordsman crossed her mind before being dismissed. Although she'd encountered some swordsmen who could move at speeds beyond the human eye, namely Kenshin himself; his intimidating, egotistical Master, Hiko; and the young man Seta Soujiro, who she'd never actually met, but had heard plenty about from Sano since their return from the madman Shisho's lair and Kyoto, none of the above had actually been able to turn themselves invisible. And Kenshin didn't look like he was fighting a living opponent. True, he was concentrating, but not the intensely focused look she'd seen in combat.
She had never seen him practice. He'd begged off training with her on the grounds of not being very good with a shinai or bamboo sword more than once, and had only recently started helping Yahiko practice the boy's Kamiya-Kasshin Ryu style, which he was learning from his young teacher. But despite being a forced listener to Kaoru's many lectures on the importance of staying in shape, he never trained within her sight. She'd never really thought about it, because he fought as if his skill were inbred and almost completely thoughtless. Now, watching raptly, she gave in and stared, partly for the reason that she just liked watching him.
Within a few seconds, he increased his speed; the accuracy of his maneuvers staying so lifelike, Kaoru could almost see his imaginary opponent go down beneath the blade. Freezing with the sword at the end of a sideways cut, reversed blade hairsbreadths from a candlestick, he held his sword partway to the ground as if keeping the tip to the envisioned man's throat then opened his eyes and scrubbed sweat out of them with the floppy sleeve of his blue gi.
It was inevitable that he would see her, standing now in the doorway that she'd opened just a little further in order to see better. As he lowered his arm, he spotted Kaoru out of the corner of his eye, and turned to face her, a surprised expression crossing his face.
She knew what was coming. "Oro," he said softly, an expression she had yet to find a singular definition for beyond general surprise. The sound of the familiar two syllables brought a small smile to her face. "Good evening, Kaoru-dono."
He wasn't going to ask 'Why are you up?' directly, but she felt she had to answer. "It's too hot to sleep," she explained. "You too?"
Kenshin blinked at her, slightly goofy rurouni face at maximum. "You found a better solution than this one."
"Huh? Oh!" She opened the door fully and stepped out of the puddle that had steadily collected at her bare feet. Kenshin grinned outright at the chagrined expression on her face, sheathed his sakabato, and vanished into the corridor just outside the room. He reappeared not ten seconds later, tossing her a white towel of the sort Sano called 'sweat-rags'.
She wrapped it around her hair, squeezed the remaining water from the braid and dropped the towel directly on top of the puddle before realizing he'd changed the subject on her. "I've never seen you practice before," she said musingly as he reemerged from the closet with a second cloth for himself.
"It has been a restless night, so this one came to practice," Kenshin explained apologetically, seating himself on the slightly raised section of floor. About to say more, he stopped and looked into the middle distance as if unable to phrase his thoughts correctly.
Kaoru joined him, sitting within arm's reach but outside accepted personal space. "Are you all right, Kenshin?" she asked. "You looked kinda strange for a second there."
His brow furrowed even further. "This one does not know…" he said softly. "Recently there have been dreams, but too dizzy to have any form…" He trailed off again, looking lost.
She reached over to put a hand on his forehead. "Well, you don't feel sick, although you'd have to brave the vixen to be sure of that. It's just the heat, Kenshin," she said reassuringly. Squinting at him as he pondered, she added, "Or we could brave Misao and Okina, if that's less dangerous."
"Oro," Kenshin said again, this time meaning something along the lines of 'oh, help'.
Not three weeks away from Kyoto, the dojo had received a letter from the young and perhaps overenthusiastic Okashira Misao, co-signed by Okina, her adoptive (and just as energetic) grandfather and the rest of the Oniwabanshu at the Kyoto inn Aoi-ya, managing to both beg and demand at the same time that their friends in Tokyo return to Kyoto for the rather vague goal of 'having fun'. Three weeks, Sano had expressed when he had heard about the letter, was not a sufficient recovery time from Misao's enthusiasm for life, Shinomori Aoshi, and being Okashira, in roughly that order.
However, she had added, almost as a bribe, that the weather was normal there (being Kyoto), why didn't they come experience some normal weather, and putting up with her was a small price to pay, right? This last was not verbalized, and it was only Sano, the most sarcastic of their little group, who came up with it. He'd been protested down as his friends defended Misao loyally.
It was getting to the point where the weird heat did make the trip worth it. It wasn't as if they had anywhere to be, and she had enjoyed the little Okashira's company. And as Kaoru watched Kenshin worry, she decided that she'd talk Yahiko around.
Speak of the devil.
"Oi, busu, what'cha doing with all the candles?"
"Don't call me that, Yahiko!" Kaoru yelled, jumping to her feet in surprise and anger at the insult with a blush spreading over her face and eyes growing flinty. "I thought you were asleep!"
"This one thought you were both asleep," Kenshin added to the air from somewhere around her waist. "Instead it is like the middle of the afternoon in here."
"Too dark," Yahiko grinned, kicking the door closed behind him. His flyaway hair stuck out at odd angles, testament to getting at least a little sleep. His reddish-brown eyes were fully awake nonetheless. "Why is everyone up?"
"Back to bed now, mister," Kaoru ordered. "You need sleep."
"I stole your bucket, by the way," Yahiko informed her without missing a beat.
Despite the heat and sleep deprivation, Kaoru still found the energy to snatch a bokken from the walls and chase Yahiko around the room twice in quick succession, both ducking and swerving around the candles. Several flickered out due to the wind of their passing.
Kenshin chuckled faintly as Yahiko dodged a candlestick, headed for the door in hopes of escape, and tried to change direction too fast. He slipped over the puddle that was still in the doorway. The ten-year-old was promptly attacked by his enraged teacher. Still watching the chaos with amusement as he rose to extinguish the remaining candles and store them away, a soft noise barely made it to his ears over the cacophony by the door.
Looking over his shoulder warily, he half-drew his sakabato and padded softly over to one wall. He knew he looked rather silly, but he placed his right ear to the wall and listened closely.
Did he hear the sound of breathing? Who or what would be standing breathing outside the dojo at this hour?
A shudder ran through him as a fragment of a memory of a dream forgotten flitted past his mind's eye.
A million mirrors, an army of me this one can't get away can't hide from yourself myself this one's self eyes my own this one's own staring I see you we see you we are you and nothing matters because everything matters and everything is everything is everything has been no collision never get away can't see can't hear can't be dizzy turning spinning the mirrors are spinning the wheels are spinning. I see this one sees me see you see us see I only one this one I me we us I have to get away
Kenshin lunged away from the wall as if it had bitten him, pushing it away from him with both hands and succeeding only in stumbling over his own feet. Rescuing himself much as Kaoru had done not long ago, he strode quickly past the scuffling pair, who had fought their way away from the door, and slid open the shoji to leap onto the hard ground. He drew his sword in one smooth gesture, and, balancing on the balls of his feet as if preparing to leap into battle or into the air at a moment's notice, swept round the corner of the long dojo.
He faced only the night air and the slightest breeze.
The wind is the wind is rising coming the world is the sky is spinning falling dying run
With a confused look on his face, Kenshin turned in a slow circle, seeing only the night-lit yard and uncovered well. Frowning slightly, disturbed although his conscious mind told him that Kaoru had simply not yet replaced the cover, he shifted his grip on his sword hilt and crept over to the well.
Picking up the cover with his left hand, as his right didn't want to let go of his sakabato, he fitted it onto the well with a short clunk. Kenshin turned away to pick up the weight, but stopped as he was half-bent over. The fine hairs on the back of his neck prickled, telling him despite his other senses that someone or something was near that needed his attention now.
The redhead straightened up, leaving the rock at his feet as he scoured everything within the walls another time. Still, no one was visible, and, were it not for the sounds of an argument well in progress inside the dojo hall, there would be no audible evidence of life beyond Kenshin's own breaths, which rang in his ears cacophonously.
Looking down, Kenshin flinched slightly. The well cover, which he had left properly placed on the inner ridge that kept it from dropping into the water a short way down, was loose. One edge of it hung off the well about halfway, leaving a space large enough for a small man or woman to crawl or perhaps drop through.
Kenshin was now thoroughly spooked, so he drew his reverse-bladed sword all the way and held it down in front of him, ready for battle. In two quick steps, he crossed the distance to the gap and pointed the tip downwards.
There was no reaction.
Puzzled, Kenshin leaned over slightly, keeping his center of balance level in case he was being bluffed out. A quick, cursory glance told him that he was jumping at shadows. The almost-half moon, still high in the sky, cast a cold light over the water below, and anyone hiding inside would have stood out like spilled ink on white paper.
He shook his head at his own paranoia and sheathed his sword easily. Leaning over to resettle the wooden lid, he was suddenly caught, like a child, by the sight of his own reflection in the still waters.
Kenshin stared down into the water and grinned at his mirror image for the heck of it. His reflection grinned back, golden eyes sparkling in the moonlight—what?
Caught by the image, Kenshin stared, unable to move. The likeness in the well stared back wide-eyed, confirming beyond all doubt that the eyes that regarded him from beneath were indeed a bright, molten gold. As if to cry out, Kenshin opened his mouth slightly, dry lips cracking. The mirror image copied him exactly. To his horror, the redhead felt warm liquid sliding down his cheek from the old cross-shaped scar. Staring helplessly, he saw in the water that the fluid was dark. A single drop fell into the well as it completed its journey down his chin, disrupting the image.
With an abrupt, stifled cry, the redhead lurched backwards as he had from the dojo wall, and again the vertigo struck him. He tripped over his own feet while trying to rise from the kneeling position he had affected to look downward and sat down hard. Scrubbing at his eyes desperately, Kenshin placed his head between his knees in a universal cure for lightheadedness, trembling. As he struggled to clear the haze of fear from his eyes, his left hand brushed against the corresponding cheek, and he snatched it free to look at it desperately.
There was nothing but sweat on his hand, and Kenshin breathed a sigh of relief that did more to relieve the wooziness than anything he'd done before. Tasting the sweat to confirm that yes, it was his own salty sweat, he pulled himself to his feet, leaning heavily on his sheathed sword for a moment before looking up and shoving it back through his sash.
The well cover was back on, but the rock was still firmly on the ground, squatting where it had been left before in a very rock-like manner. Kenshin ignored the last residual tremors in order to pick up the stone and drop it resoundingly in the center of the lid. It made a hollow booming noise.
Kenshin could hear the noise of Kaoru and Yahiko's scuffle beginning to die down, so he turned his back on the yard and headed back to the dojo, trying very hard to forget what he thought he had seen. His sole concession to the strange event, as he stepped back up onto the porch, was to mutter absently, "This one does not get enough sleep."
He slid the shoji back open with a creak, disturbing the boy and his sensei from the now only verbal quarrel, which they broke off in mid-word as he entered.
"Kenshin?" asked Yahiko, sounding more puzzled than he really should be. "How did you get over there?"
What? "This one walked," Kenshin said matter-of-factly.
"But…but," the boy stuttered. "You were over there just a few seconds ago." He indicated the spot, beneath the small collection of tags that indicated current students and teachers, that Kenshin had indeed inhabited before he'd started hallucinating. "I could 'a sworn…" Yahiko continued, sounding truly baffled. "Huh." He added nothing else.
"Perhaps we are all up too late," Kenshin suggested, seeing Kaoru scrub tiredly at her eyes when Yahiko wasn't looking. "Come on, Yahiko." Quickly, he assembled the remaining candlesticks in one corner. "This one will put them back tomorrow morning," he assured Kaoru as he shooed her too toward the door. She went with no fuss, stopping only to put her bokken back on the wall and bow to the small shrine set into one wall.
Various versions of 'good night' could be heard as the three regular residents of the Kamiya dojo returned to their vacated beds. Still somewhat disturbed, Kenshin double-checked the outer locks on the gate, and then, after a brief moment's thought, checked the house locks as well. All were shut tight.
Mental note to self, Kaoru thought as she dozed off in her room despite the cloying heat. Get more sleep. Find Sano; talk gang into trip to Kyoto, get seasickness remedies from Megumi, send letter to Misao, and book a ship.
Author's Note: It's not supposed to make sense yet. Star Trek plus Stephen King (which I have been newly introduced to) plus RuroKen minus space-time integrity equals…invalid data…Delete? Y/N? (sigh) graphing calculators love to tell you when you've made a mistake. Oh yes, and let me apologize to my teachers (and Shakespeare). I didn't mean the above misquote. I like my teachers. Most of the time.