Wolf's Blood
Chapter 4: Unexpected Visit
Akira went to the Kamiya Dojo the next day for his private lesson, though by now his spirit was significantly less than before. The weight of the shinai on his back was no longer a pleasant feeling—it filled him with dread. He didn't deserve to be learning from Kaoru, now that he was involved with Maeda and Kagewara, for they were undertaking a dangerous task. He knew it was wrong, but he would not fight them. For that reason, he shouldn't have been meditating over peace and protection.
But he went anyway, under Mari's insistence. He'd said he would, and any sudden change would be suspicious. Kagewara warned him that Kenshin—really Hitokiri Battousai—was often involved in police business, and could easily incriminate him. It was important that he act as normal as possible.
How can I act normal, knowing what is going to happen?
"Akira-san!" Kaoru waved to him from the dojo gate. "I'm glad you came—I've been looking out for you. Come in."
He bowed and followed her inside to the dojo's main room. The moment he entered he began to feel nervous. Yahiko was practicing by himself in the center of the room, and Kenshin, pretending to watch though he was really asleep, sat in the corner. Off to the side were a man and a woman he didn't recognize; the woman was bandaging the man's hand. They all—except Kenshin—paused to stare as he stepped inside.
"This is my new student, Shiburo Akira," Kaoru introduced. She was practically aglow with excitement. "Be nice to him: he pays."
"Good," the man on the side grunted. "Maybe then we'll get some decent food around here." The doctor promptly knocked him on the head and muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "damned freeloader".
"Come on; let's go," Yahiko complained impatiently.
Kaoru made a face at him. "Stop being jealous, Yahiko."
"I'm not!"
Kenshin awoke just as the lesson began, drawn from the light sleep by the sounds of their kendo. He smiled at Kaoru's liveliness, and the pouting expression on Yahiko's face. It felt as if things were returning to normal around the dojo, and having a student only made things more pleasant. But there seemed to be some concern on Akira's face now…
Kenshin's thoughts were forgotten as Megumi called over to him. "I've finished with this slouch," she said, giving Sanosuke a superior glare. "Would you like to help me prepare lunch?"
"Oh, that won't be necessary," a new voice chirped. Everyone turned to the door, staring in bewilderment as a woman took off her sandals and stepped inside. Two boys followed suit, and all three were carrying trays of delicious-looking food. "I'm sorry for intruding," she said politely, "but the door was open."
Sanosuke frowned, climbing to his feet as he replaced his arm in his sleeve. "Who's the broad?"
"Hey!" the taller of the two boys snapped. "That's no way to talk about my mother!"
Kenshin climbed to his feet, recognizing her immediately. "Tokio-dono!" He grinned and moved to greet her. "What a surprise."
"I thought I might bring you all lunch," Tokio said, offering the tray. "There should be enough for everyone. I wanted to meet you all."
Kenshin's friends all exchanged glances. "Tokio?" Yahiko repeated. "Wasn't that the name off…" He broke off.
Once the general shock had worn off, Kenshin introduced everyone to everyone else. "It is good to see you again. How is your family?"
"Quite fine, as you can see. Thank you." She began to set out all the food for them, Tsuyoshi and Eiji helping. "First of all I'd like to apologize for my husband's absence; he's working today, even though he's supposed to be on vacation."
Sanosuke watched her critically. "You actually married that ugly bastard? Yesh."
"You must be that fool Father told me about," Tsuyoshi retorted, lifting his eyebrow and grinning in a way that reminded them all of Saitou. "Sagara. Feh."
"Watch it, kid, or I'll teach you and your papa a lesson."
Megumi walloped him again. "Don't be so rude. They're guests."
"Yeah, well, nobody invited them." He took a bite of the food she'd brought, however, and his attitude began to change. "At least she's a better cook than the girl."
Tokio grinned ironically. "I'll take that as a compliment."
"Yeah, but not much of one," Yahiko muttered.
They ate lunch together, and everyone began to grow accustomed to their visitors' presence. Tokio's lively stories quickly captivated the attentions of the women and Kenshin, and Tsuyoshi behaved so much like his father that Saitou may as well have been there in person. Several times Sanosuke had to be restrained and reminded of his opponent's youth. For his part Akira tried to stay out of the conversations, only occasionally speaking to Yahiko or Eiji to avoid being accused of not participating again. He felt sick with fear; could Kenshin and the others see how pale he must have been? This was the same woman Kagewara had told them about: Saitou Hajime's wife. And now he was eating a meal with her! It was almost too much for his weak nerves to bear.
Thankfully, Kaoru resumed their lesson after the meal, and he was able to focus on the kendo to keep his mind occupied. Yahiko, Tsuyoshi, and Eiji met to discuss their different sword training, and Tokio sat with Kenshin, Megumi, and Sanosuke to talk. Sanosuke hung on her every word, perhaps hoping for some slip of her tongue that would grant him black-mailable information on his enemy. The image of Saitou doing the laundry or helping to cook a meal infected him with a fit of laughter that lasted over a minute and resurfaced time and time again over the course of the afternoon. An even more humorous scene was when Tokio learned that Sanosuke was close friends with Tsukioka Tsunan, her favorite artist. Compared to Tokio's, Tae's obsession seemed to be a mild liking.
When the kendo lesson had finished, the groups changed once more. Akira started a conversation with Sanosuke and Megumi, as the three of them were close in age, and Kaoru took a seat next to Tokio. "Kaoru-chan," the older woman whispered as Kenshin was inattentive, "I'd like to speak with you later."
"Me?" She frowned. "What for?"
"You'll find out." But then Kenshin returned, and she hushed. Kaoru looked baffled, but caught on soon enough and didn't mention it.
"I am again caught between two women," Kenshin observed, chuckling a bit nervously. "It seems that they conspire against me."
Tokio couldn't pass up this chance. "That may be so, Himura-san," she said with a wink. "I'm surprised that Kaoru-chan hasn't put her plan into action by now."
"T-Tokio-san," Kaoru hissed, blushing fiercely, "what are you—"
"Oh please," she replied coolly. "You've lived together how long? Don't tell me you don't have one."
The younger woman cringed, too flustered and embarrassed to allow herself to look at Kenshin's face—whatever his reaction. She was stuttering on a reply when Yahiko and Tsuyoshi moved to the center of the dojo floor, both brandishing bokutou. She frowned. "Hey, what are you two doing?"
"Sparring," Yahiko grunted back. "Don't worry."
"I wasn't until you said that. Kenshin." She turned to him for his opinion.
"Can it harm anything?" he asked with a shrug.
"Oh, of course it can't," Tokio interrupted. "They're fine. Tsuyoshi won't hurt him."
Kaoru felt herself silently fuming, and Tokio laughed. "I'm sorry—I didn't mean to speak down on your student. Let's just watch, shall we?"
"Alright…"
Yahiko took up Kamiya Kasshinryuu's characteristic ready position, and Tsuyoshi, grinning, prepared as well. Conversation ceased as they waited for a signal to begin. At last Yahiko was tired of the pause, and he charged. They exchanged a round of blows, wood smacking loudly against wood in the large dojo. They broke apart to catch their breath before meeting again. Kenshin watched, and recognized several of Tsuyoshi's movements as being fragments from the Shinsengumi's style. Saitou must have taught him he thought to himself. He has not been exposed to a normal school, though. Saitou's school must have been dissolved by now… He glanced at Kaoru. She looked very tense while watching her student: her hands were curled tightly around the material of her pants, and her breath was held. A moment later she realized this and let it go. She must recognize the style, too. From my fight with Saitou.
Tsuyoshi stepped back, laughing as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "You're good, Myoujin," he said truthfully. "I read the report of what you did in Kyoto, but I didn't believe it."
"Believe it," he snapped back, raising his chin. "This Myoujin Yahiko doesn't lose his battles."
"Is that so?" The older boy smirked, flicking his bangs out of his eyes with a sweep of his hand. "We'll see." He moved into a new stance: left leg bent and right stretched in front, sword held horizontally in his left hand. The fingertips of his right hand touched the wooden blade. "How will you do against my father's technique?"
"Gatotsu," Kaoru whispered a bit fearfully. The scene was raising old images in her mind, ones that filled her with dread. She bit her lip to remain silent.
"That little bastard," Sanosuke muttered from the corner. "Looks like his ass hole dad." Megumi quickly hushed him.
Yahiko adjusted his grip on his sword, feeling a droplet of sweat slide down his temple. Think, Yahiko, he thought fiercely. Kenshin could have beaten Saitou—you can beat this brat. He focused, running through the different techniques he knew.
Tsuyoshi began the attack, solidifying the familiar image in Yahiko's mind. He dodged to the side just as his opponent struck, pivoted on his right foot, and spun in a tight circle. He aimed his sword for the base of the boy's skull.
But Tsuyoshi's reflexes were fast. He also twisted, raising his right arm instinctively to block the attack. He grimaced as the wood struck painfully against the limb. There they stopped, glaring at each other.
"That just now…" Kaoru murmured incredulously. He copied Kenshin.
"You surprised me again," Tsuyoshi said, grinning even as his arm stung incredibly. "That was excellent."
His opponent was beaming. "You may have blocked," he said boastfully, "but if this was a real sword, your arm would have been cut off."
"My head, too." They both started laughing, and the spectators relaxed as they disengaged and shook hands. "You're okay, Myoujin. But you stole that move, didn't you?"
Yahiko put his hands on his hips and laughed. "Doesn't matter as along as I can pull it off." The two boys moved off again, returning to their previous discussion. Eiji joined and congratulated them both. Soon the three were arguing over the sword moves performed.
The room began to resume its pleasant buzz of conversation. "You're student's impressive," said Tokio. "That technique is my husbands."
Kaoru smiled, quite proud herself. "But he had some help; he learned that from Kenshin, not me."
"But as he said, he was able to do it," Kenshin added.
Akira, amazed by the display of the two young boys, turned to Sanosuke. "That move Fujita-kun performed," he questioned. "What was it?"
"Gatotsu," the street-fighter replied gruffly. "One of his dad's moves. He and Kenshin fought once." He paused, wondering whether or not he should be telling him this. He decided it was harmless. "But Yahiko surprised me—he's better than I thought."
Megumi nodded. "He'll be like Ken-san someday, that's for sure."
When the afternoon had progressed to a late degree the group began to disperse. Akira paid and thanked Kaoru before going quickly on his way, and Megumi went with Kenshin to prepare for the evening meal. The boys were still talking, though, and Tokio took her chance to meet with Kaoru alone. "Can we talk a bit?"
"Certainly," Kaoru replied, trying to be cheerful even though she was made nervous in the company of the older woman. "What is it?"
"I wanted to talk about Himura-san," said Tokio, guiding Kaoru to a private corner of the room. "It's very important and very serious."
She nodded dumbly, anxiety growing by the low tone the woman was using. "Is something wrong?"
"Very. As I understand it, you've been living with him for almost half a year already, and nothing has happened between you two! What's wrong?"
Kaoru blinked rapidly, taken off guard. "What? What do you mean by 'nothing's happened'?"
"I mean you and Himura-san," the older woman began to explain. "Haven't you tried anything? A subtle hint, a not-so-subtle hint, anything?"
"Hint of what, Tokio-san?"
"Why, of your feelings, of course! How can you know him so long and not attempt to give some indication?"
Kaoru stuttered, feeling a bright red tint in her cheeks. "B-But Tokio-san, what are you—"
"Don't pretend to be so innocent," Tokio said pointedly. "I'm an old and married woman now, and I can tell these things. It's all over the both of you, and I have to say that even watching you is frustrating."
She was speechless. The accusations froze her mind in shock and she couldn't think straight. "What?" she stammered incoherently. "Huh? Uh…"
Tokio couldn't help but laugh at the young woman's flustered appearance. "Oh, you poor dear. You look like…well, like a rabbit being stared down by a wold, actually. I know the look." She considered a moment. "It's no wonder neither of you can make a move."
"Make a…Tokio-san, please," Kaoru hissed. "Even if I knew what you were talking about—"
"Of course you know. Now let me tell you a little bit about men—listen carefully." Tokio took on a moment to collect her thoughts. "I've been thinking about you and Himura-san for a while. I only have this advice to give: jump him."
Kaoru nearly toppled onto her back, and her if skin could have turned a brighter shade of red she would have been glowing. "Excuse me?" she breathed hoarsely.
"Men are ruled by their sex organs," the older woman continued knowingly. "I have experience. What you've fond is a rare specimen, but it's clear the man is attracted to you—and it certainly isn't your cooking he's interested in, if you know what I mean. It must be quite a strain on him."
By now Kaoru was beyond any comprehension of what was being said.
"Hey, what's with you two?" Sanosuke asked, observing the girl as she flopped on her back in a self-induced catatonic state. He made a disconcerted face. "What'd you do to the girl?"
Tokio shrugged innocently. "Just a little woman talk."
Dinner was prepared, and they shared another meal. Afterwards, Tokio thanked everyone and bid them good evening. "Himura-san," she said to the man in secret before departing, "if I may give you some advice?"
"Certainly."
"Behind every great samurai is an even greater woman. See over there?" She nodded her head just barely in Kaoru's direction. "Never pass up a gift from the gods."
Kenshin blinked, glanced in the implied direction, and nodded slowly. "Yes, Tokio-dono. Thank you."
Later that night Akira convinced Mari to go out to the city with him, away from anywhere that Kagewara or Maeda could have found them. He told her all about the events of that day, from meeting for his lesson to watching Tsuyoshi's Gatotsu. She listened without offering any comments. Her silence unnerved him. He often admired her for her cool, collected demeanor and infinite calm, but now it disturbed him; he wondered what she was really thinking. "Doesn't any of this bother you?" he asked at last. "Everything that's happening…we'll be criminals."
"Kagewara-san came to see us today," Mari said quietly. "He's offered to pay us a lot of money for doing this. Not only that, but we'll be offered a position as part of the Night Wolves."
"Are you really going to do it? The Night Wolves are outlaws."
"The offer goes to you, too."
Akira cringed, again feeling that empty pit in his stomach. "Mari-san," he persisted, "I have a really bad feeling about his. They're using you, and…" He bit his lip, shuddering at the images his mind produced. "I don't want you hurt. You're…you're everything to me, and if something happened to you, I…"
Mari stopped walking, staring at him directly. Her wide, beautiful brown eyes met his, as if searching to find those words in his heart as well as on his lips. "Thank you," she replied with a bit of hesitation. "This…well, it means a lot to me that you care." She smiled a bit and glanced away in embarrassment. "It really does. But you don't have to worry, because nothing will happen." She took his hand and held it tightly. "Brother and I are best in our school—we're strong and smart enough to do what Kagewara has asked. This will be a great change for all three of us. Be strong. For me."
Akira nodded. He couldn't argue, not with her. And when she leaned over and kissed his cheek all his fears were forgotten. All his trust he placed in her alone. She believes in me. Hand in hand they returned to their part of town.
When the police captain arrived at the Kamiya Dojo that evening, Kaoru was instantly wary. She knew the look on the man's face—he wanted help. Help from Kenshin. By then Sanosuke and Megumi had both returned home, but she quickly gathered Kenshin and Yahiko in the main dojo to hear what he had to say.
"I hate to do this," the captain began in his characteristically tight voice. "I know you've been gone quite some time, Himura-san, but we need your help. Or, actually, my superiors do." He cleared his throat. "They asked me to speak to you, as I've asked you for favors before."
"I know you would not come if it was a small matter," Kenshin replied, leaning easily against the wall. Beside him, Kaoru didn't look so calm. "What is the problem?"
"I don't know all the details," he admitted, "but it has to do with an organization known as the Night Wolves. A special task force is being assembled to flush out their hiding place two days from now. They'd like you to help."
But before Kenshin could respond, Yahiko spoke up. "I don't know anything about these 'Night Wolves', but he's not going. You guys are too pushy—he just got back from one of your jobs."
"That's right," Kaoru added. "Kenshin isn't one of you anymore. He doesn't work for the government, and you can't just pull him into this again."
The captain frowned. "Actually, I don't know anything about Himura-san's last job. It was classified. So is this mission. But it wouldn't involve Himura-san traveling anywhere, as the hide out is just outside Tokyo's east border. It would be only one night."
"Hmph," Yahiko snorted. "Last time it was almost three months!"
"Yahiko," Kenshin spoke up at last, casting him a stern glance. "This is not that kind of mission."
Kaoru stared at him with worry. Already a potent sickness was settling in her stomach. "Kenshin, are you thinking about going?"
"I will consider." He turned his attention to the captain once more. "Can you tell me any more?"
"I'm afraid not. Only that the mission leader will be Fujita Gorou."
Saitou? This must be more important than the captain knows. Kaoru's face showed an expression of understanding, as if she'd read his thoughts. She is afraid I will leave. Though I would rather not participate in this kind of work anymore, can I turn my back? These Night Wolves…do they associate themselves with the Mibu Wolves? And if they do, how can I not go?
"Alright," Kenshin said at last, meeting the captain's gaze. "I will do this." Kaoru and Yahiko both began to protest at once, but he help up his hand and they fell silent. "Tell me what I should do."
"A messenger will be sent here tomorrow evening," the captain replied gratefully. "He will guide you to the others. I'm sure Sir Fujita will brief you once you're there. Thank you very much for this, Himura-san." He stood. "Now, if you will excuse me."
"Of course."
"Good night."
"I don't believe this!" Yahiko exclaimed once the man had left. "How can they just do this all the time? Kenshin, stop letting them take advantage of you!"
He smiled at the boy's temper. "There is no need to worry, Yahiko. This will be a simple matter."
Kaoru bit her lip, gripping tightly onto the material of her outfit. "Kenshin…?"
"Hm?"
"So…" She choked on the words in fear, feeling weak all over. "…you're going?"
Kenshin watched her for a moment, making her nervous. At last he only smiled sweetly. "Do not worry, Kaoru-dono," he assured her softly. He touched her hands, and with gentle care unwound them from the fabric she was strangling. "I promised I would come back with you then, and I will make that promise again now. If you wish I will even take Sano with me to keep me out of trouble."
"With that bastard along," Yahiko interrupted smugly, "you're likely to get into more trouble. Take me."
"No," he said almost instantly. "If these Night Wolves are what I think they might be, it will be complicated."
The boy's expression quickly changed from arrogance to frustration. "But Kenshin, I've been working really hard. I want to fight with you!"
"Even against Shinsengumi?"
This caused him to stop. "You think that's what this is?" Kaoru asked quietly. "Aren't they all gone?"
Kenshin shook his head. "I am not sure. But Saitou is not assigned to minor cases, and I imagine he usually works alone. For Saitou, a former Shinsengumi captain, to be leading a task force against 'Night Wolves'…" He sighed, frowning. "The situation is indeed complicated. But Yahiko." He held the boy's gaze firmly. "Please, trust me now. I understand your will to fight, but this is no simple fight. I may find old enemies there. I do not doubt you, but these are men with decades of experience. It will be easier for me to do this knowing you and Kaoru-dono are safe."
Yahiko was unconvinced and hurt by Kenshin's decision, but he only nodded. Without another word he left the main room. Kaoru was urged to call him back, but she didn't. She sighed and looked to Kenshin. "Every time you do that it makes him feel worse," she said.
"Yes, but I do not want him there. Someday he will understand." Kenshin climbed to his feet. "Shall we go to bed as well?"
"Oh, yeah. Alright." They began to walk back together, but then she stopped him. "Kenshin, you said you might fight some of the Shinsengumi. But…will you…"
He interpreted her concerns exactly. "There is no need to worry, Kaoru-dono. I assure you that everything will be all right. I will return just as I am now. Sano will watch out for me."
Kaoru nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Kenshin. I'll look out for Yahiko, too."
"Thank you." With a final exchange of smiles they split up to go to bed.
Wolf's Blood
Chapter 5: Beginning of Sunset
When Tokio entered the room Saitou was already changing into his police uniform. She closed the panel behind her. "Hajime?"
"It's time," he said, buckling his belt. "They're expecting me."
She nodded. In the last two days they'd attempted to enjoy the last of his vacation, but Tokio couldn't help but feel a certain dread as the day approached. The wind was whispering secrets to her, tearing at her delicate instincts. She knew that any hint of ill air she detected he must have been feeling tenfold. The strain shone in his eyes.
Tokio wrapped her arms around his waist, halting him from putting on his jacket. "Don't sound so cold," she mewed, hoping to lift the mood somewhat. "You're always acting like that, but you know it doesn't work with me."
He grinned slyly, dropping his coat. "Oh, is that so?" For a while he would allow himself to forget his duty; with one finger he lifted her chin. "It worked when you were still a virgin."
She slapped his hand away indignantly. "You shameless dog," she spat, but she was grinning. Marriage might be bliss, but for her it wasn't quite right if they weren't fighting. The relationship may have been strange, but she wasn't about to argue with over ten years of personal experience. They didn't need to be sweet to know that they loved each other.
"You're in charming spirits tonight," her husband remarked, hands closing over her shoulders. "But it's a shame you picked one when I'm on duty."
"The night's young." Tokio pricked at the buttons on his shirt, her bright eyes shining with mischief. "Come back soon," she said coyly, "and I'll make it worth your while." To prove her point she pulled him into a fierce kiss. His arms tightened around her. But the woman managed to suppress her passion, separating their lips once more. "I'll be waiting."
"Then I'll be quick." He touched her face tenderly, and they shared one last kiss before pulling apart. Saitou finished preparing his uniform, then retrieved his sword. "I'll only be gone for a few hours. Take care."
She nodded slowly, all her expressions and movements indicating invitation. Saitou chuckled and reached to touch her hair. Carefully he pulled out the ties and pins that held it trapped against her scalp, and the delicate strands of black silk cascaded with a flourish over her shoulders. "Keep your hair down," he said, running his fingers through the smooth locks. "You're much more beautiful this way."
"Alright." Tokio made a playful purring sound, enjoying the attention he was giving her. "You'd better go, or I'll keep you here all night."
"As tempting as that sounds, you're right. Be patient a while." He kissed her hand delicately with mocking charm, and bid her a final farewell. Tokio smiled, chuckling to herself as she watched him leave.
One the other side of the city, Kenshin said similar good-byes to his own friends. "Do not worry yourself," he told Kaoru with a smile that could always erase her doubts. "Sano and I will be fine."
She nodded. "Be careful."
"This way, please," the guide, a police man in uniform, instructed. "The rest of the squad is waiting."
"I can't wait," Sanosuke said as they started away from the dojo. He punched the palm of his hand. "Finally I can show that bastard I mean business."
Kenshin hummed thoughtfully. "Somehow, I am glad to know he is still alive."
"Me too—otherwise, I couldn't finish our match."
By the time they reached the east edge of Tokyo it was already nearing sunset. Two dozen men in navy uniforms were gathered there, armed with rifles and pistols, and a few with swords. They all glanced up as the pair approached, and recognition shone in their faces. But one man was turned away from them, a thin line of smoke rising above his head. Kenshin stared, a bit unbelieving. Before he could say anything, though, Sanosuke beat him to it.
"Saitou! You bastard!" Sanosuke shouted. "It's about time you showed up. We have a score to settle!"
Saitou didn't respond, as he appeared to be reading something. All the officers were staring at Sanosuke in confusion. "What the hell is he talking about?" one muttered.
"Sir Fujita," the messenger said, "Battousai is here."
Saitou turned, exhaling the cigarette smoke heavily. "Is that so?" he muttered, grinning mockingly. "All I see is a wanderer and his fool friend."
"Damn you…" Sanosuke hissed, fuming. "Come on! Fight me!"
"I'm kind of busy now, in case you didn't notice," he replied coolly. "Now shut up so I can finish reading this."
Kenshin put his hand on Sanosuke's arm as a signal for restraint. "Are you planning to inform us as to what is going on?" he asked.
Saitou folded the paper and stuffed it into his pocket. "What did they tell you?"
"Nothing."
He snorted. "Didn't think so. This has nothing to do with the police—a purely government operation."
Kenshin observed the man's expression carefully; he didn't look pleased. "You look as if you do not approve," he remarked.
Saitou met his gaze, his yellow eyes narrowed. A moment later the spell between them had passed, and he sported a half grin. "Are you not up to a challenge?"
"No, but an explanation might make this easier."
"Very well. I'll explain as we walk." He motioned for the officers to come to attention. "Stay behind me and don't make a sound," he instructed. "They will most likely have spies about. Don't shoot until I say so." He started down a path that led out of the city, and immediately the men fell into a line behind him. Kenshin and Sanosuke exchanged glances before moving to join Saitou at the front of the precession. "There isn't much to this one," the police man began as they went. "Not like Shishio. We're going to flush out a cabin in the woods. There really is no need for you to be here. I've been ordered to kill any captives."
Kenshin took his next breath slowly. "What was their crime?"
Saitou didn't answer right away. "The Night Wolves are all former Shinsengumi." His simple words were enough to make clear the situation.
"So you're just gong to take them out?" Sanosuke muttered darkly. "Don't wanna get along, so you butcher the bastards?" His voice lowered even more so. "Damn government ass holes. Is that the only way they know how?"
"Sano…" Kenshin held his tongue, deciding it was better not to make any unnecessary comment. He sighed and turned back to Saitou. He was a bit surprised to see that the man was watching Sanosuke. There was a strange look in his eyes. "Is there anything more?"
"We'll surround the hut. You and I will attack from opposite sides, deal with those we can, and flush the rest out. Once you've gone in don't come out until it's over, or my men might mistake you for one."
Kenshin grimaced at the scene he was painting. "You intend it to be a slaughter."
"I take no prisoners," Saitou responded. "The number of survivors depends on how many you can dispose of before I get to them."
Sanosuke muttered a string of profanity under his breath, fists tensing. His right hand began to throb but he didn't care. "This is such shit. Aren't you a samurai? Don't you have any honor? They don't even know you're coming, and you—"
"They will soon," he interrupted curtly, "if you don't shut up."
"I won't shut up! I won't have anything to do with this insanity, and what's more I'm going to fight you all if that's what it takes! I definitely won't let this happen!"
Saitou stopped walking, bringing everyone to a halt as the pair stared each other down. The officers watched their leader with concern.
"I cannot allow myself to participate in this, either," Kenshin spoke up in the silence. "This force is unnecessary. Let me take care of this alone."
"What?"
Sanosuke glared at him. "What the hell do you mean now?"
The red-headed samurai straightened, trying to hold his own against all these men who were taller than him, but it wasn't much help. However, his attitude was enough to command their attention. "I will do this alone. It will be simpler, and without casualties. I will let it be done no other way."
Tokio sighed, brushing out her long black hair. She didn't understand it, but her husband had always said she had beautiful hair, and she wanted it to look exceptionally good that evening. When he came back she knew it would be difficult for his to relay the night's events as well as his thoughts; he would need persuasion, and she would be ready to do just that.
Spread out on his futon in the next room, Eiji glanced up from the book he'd been reading. "Your mom's been in there a while," he remarked. "What's she been doing all this time? The lights are still on, so…"
"Probably brushing her hair," Tsuyoshi muttered back, not looking up from his own book. "She does that a lot with Father goes out."
"Oh." He shrugged and returned to his reading.
Tsuyoshi was about to do the same when a faint sense caught his attention. Ever since his father had begun training him to fight he'd also taught him about sword ki, and the power of one's spirit. One of those lessons had included detecting when enemies were close. He could feel the presence now, like a hostile odor floating about. A moment later the sound of footsteps confirmed his assumptions. He sat up. "Eiji. Someone's coming."
"Huh?" Eiji glanced up from his book once more. "What was that?"
The panel that opened into the hallway began to slide, revealing a young man and woman. They were both armed. Instantly Tsuyoshi was on his feet, fists balled, Eiji at his side. "Who the hell are you?" he demanded. "What do you want?"
Haya grinned smugly. "Just to play awhile," he replied with cool confidence. "You boys alone?"
"My father's coming back soon. If he finds you here, he'll kill you."
"Is that so?" Haya laughed, though his sister bore no expression. "You think your daddy'll make it back in time?"
Tsuyoshi grimaced, taking several steps back. The pair advanced into the room. They're going to kill us he realized, his body tensing. But who are they? Are they my father's enemies?
"Tsuyoshi, who are you talking to?" The panel to the next room opened, and Tokio stuck her head through. "What's the—" She stopped when she saw the intruders. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" Quickly she moved to her son's side and put her hand on his shoulder protectively.
"Like I told the kid, Lady." Haya unsheathed his two kodachi. "Just a little playtime."
The stare-down between Saitou and Kenshin lasted several long moments, each waiting for the other to back down. Finally Saitou broke the tension. "Do what you like; it won't make a difference, because any captives will be questioned then executed anyway. These men are a threat to the government and will be dealt with as such. But, if you're still sure about your oath, I'll give you a chance." He grinned just slightly. "I'll give you a ten second head start, then I join you." He turned to his men. "Hear that? You're not to shoot unless they try to escape the building."
"Yes, sir."
"Kenshin," Sanosuke whispered angrily, "you're not really going to—"
"There is no other choice. I cannot stand aside and allow them to do this."
"No matter what we do, it won't help. Shit." He pounded his fist into his palm. "Damn it all."
Kenshin sighed, then realized that Saitou and the officers had already began to move again. "I know, Sano." He followed the procession, and a moment later Sanosuke did as well.
Mari evaluated their task quickly: a woman and two eleven-year-old boys. They'd been warned that one of the kinds might know how to fight, but that wouldn't be a problem. He wasn't even armed.
"I want you to kill all three," Kagewara had told them. "Maeda want an ally, but he's being close-minded. I've got a better solution to our problem."
Mari pulled out her weapon—she'd designed it herself. Two kodachi were attached to opposite ends of a wooden shaft, forming a double-bladed staff about four feet long. But more than that her weapon held a secret: the two short swords were connected by four feet of thin wire that was threaded through the shaft. If one kodachi was unhooked it could be swung, or else she could simple retrieve the blade by pulling on the wire. Such an unusual weapon had demanded extensive training on her part, as well as a style all her own. This would be her first time using it outside of her own solo practice.
"If you're here for money," Tokio said, her eyes cold, "there's not much but you can take it. But you came for us, didn't you?"
"You're a pretty smart bitch," Haya laughed, advancing on the trio. She pushed both boys behind her and took several steps back. "Yeah, it's you. Didn't you know? We're here for paybacks."
"Oh, is that so?" Tokio squeezed her son's shoulder, trying to tell him something. "For my husband?"
Mari moved away from her brother, beginning to come at them from the left. "That's right," Haya continued. "He's a traitor and a coward; we're gonna make sure he knows we mean business."
"You're the cowards!" Tsuyoshi snarled back, and he would have charged at them had his mother not held him back. "You can't even fight him face to face!"
"Oh, we will. Don't you worry."
"What?"
"Hush, Tsuyoshi," Tokio instructed in a whisper, squeezing his shoulder again. "You're unarmed."
Finally he caught on. Eiji's and my sword are in Mother's room, he thought quickly. And Mother has a tanto. These guys look good, but two against three…we might be able to hold them off until Father gets back, or someone calls the police…
Tsuyoshi worked his toe under a nearby book, gently elbowing his mother in the side. In an instant she and Eiji both turned to bolt. Haya and Mari charged, and the boy kicked the book into the first of their attacker's faces before following his kin. Haya slashed the book aside and gave chase.
Tokio scrambled into her room and nearly dove for the corner where their weapons had been placed for safe-keeping. Without thinking she tossed Tsuyoshi's sword into the air, which he immediately caught and unsheathed. Eiji's bokutou was next, and then she retrieved her own tanto. Saitou had given it to her after their wedding and taught her how to use it; now she would test that training.
"Oh, the little one wants to play," Haya laughed disdainfully. He took up a battle stance. "Come on."
Tsuyoshi slid into his own posture. "You're the one attacking us," he growled.
Eiji followed his friend's example, and Tokio stood close beside, gripping her weapon's handle with straining fingers. Hajime, where are you?
Wolf's Blood
Chapter 6: Nightfall
Kenshin crouched down in the bushes, brushing aside a few stray leaves that covered his sight. The hut was just ahead, no more than 300 square feet of land taken up by its dimensions, nestled in a miniature valley surrounded by forest. Thin smoke rose from the chimney, and traces of firelight seeped through the partially opened windows. He didn't like it. The lights were lit but he couldn't hear any conversation going on, which made him anxious. If there were men in there, awake but silent, they might be anticipating an attack. But then, the Shinsengumi were well trained and could simply be speaking softly. There was no way of knowing. No more than twenty men can be inside there comfortably, he calculated. Ten seconds…it may not be much, but it is all I have. I will have to work fast.
"Something isn't right," Sanosuke muttered beside him. "I've got a weird feeling about all this."
"Me too. But there is no other choice."
"Well, I'm coming with you."
Kenshin shook his head. "No, Sano. There is not much room in there, and I will have to be fast. Please stay back, or at least wait. Wait nine seconds, if you must."
He snorted. "You're so damn selfish. Think you can handle all of'em?"
"Thanks for the concern." Kenshin smiled, then adjusted the sword on his hip. "Here I go."
"Good luck."
Kenshin leapt out of the bushes and started won the mild slope that led to the hut. He made almost no sound as he moved quickly to the closest wall. Knowing that Saitou had most likely already begun his counting, he slid low along the side of the building to the door. With a deep breath he kicked the door open and ran inside.
And then he stopped.
No one was there.
Kenshin gazed about, breathing a sigh of relief; there would be no casualties after all. The cabin had clearly been used at one time, but now there was no indication of a presence. Several rice barrels were set in the middle of the room, but that was it. A fire cracked, unattended, in the fireplace.
"A decoy," Saitou muttered, entering behind him. Sanosuke shouldered his way in after. "Hmph. I should have expected our information to be leaked."
Kenshin glanced at him over his shoulder. "What happened to the ten seconds?"
He exhaled smoke. "Well, it doesn't matter. There's no one here. Consider yourself lucky."
"You bastard," Sanosuke hissed. "Even though you gave your word—"
"I'm doing my job." Saitou moved over to the rice barrels and attempted to open one, but the top had been nailed shut. "There's something in here."
Kenshin nodded, allowing his gaze to scan the rest of the interior. "Yes, but if they knew we were coming, why leave it? As if…" He stopped, finally noticing another barrel that had been used to prop one of the windows open. The way it was placed…and the group in the center…
Damn! "Both of you," Kenshin shouted urgently, "get out, now!"
All three men rushed for the door, but just as they reached it a gun fired from outside, striking the barrel in the window. Instantly the keg exploded due to the gunpowder packed within. The blast wasn't extensive, but it was more than enough to ignite the group of larger barrels in the hut's center. Kenshin felt the heart sear his back, throwing him into the air with the force of the explosion. He managed to land somewhat on his feet and then dropped to the ground, curling into a ball as wooden debris beat against his body. Sanosuke was soon beside him, helping to shield the older man, as his body was more accustomed to the brutality of such blunt attacks.
Saitou muttered curses, crouched nearby. He spat dirt and flicked wooden splinters from his uniform. Damn it. This isn't like the Miburo at all—I would have never planned something like this. He muttered a curse and glanced about the forest clearing. The entire cabin was burning down quickly, forcing him to shield his eyes from the hostile glare of the flames. Luckily the blast had not affected the surrounding woodlands. His men were scurrying about like rabbits, some departing back for the city—hopefully to retrieve a fire patrol. But then his eye caught a flash of movement across the small valley. A man was perched in the trees.
Saitou leapt to his feet, sword drawn, but his reaction wasn't quick enough. The first shot came from a gunman he never saw, burying its painful fire into his right shoulder near the end of his collar bone. The impact caused him to stumble, and a second bullet that grazed his left thigh dropped him to the earth once more. The third whizzed past his ear, missing his flesh, though it tossed bits of soil into his face.
Kenshin cursed under his breath. He searched the line of trees for the source of the attacks, finally catching sight of a rifle as the firelight reflected off its metal surface. "Look out!" he called to the officers. "In the trees!" He ducked as several shots barely missed his head. The government agents returned fire in kind, beginning the shooting match. "Damn. If this keeps up…" He jumped to his feet and dashed up the hill once more.
"Kenshin! Shit—" Sanosuke yelped as a bullet grazed his arm, not deep, but painful. He slid further down the hill pressed himself into the grass, trying to remain out of range of the guns.
Haya was faster than his younger adversary had expected. He covered the distance between them in less than an instant and clashed swords with the boy, attempting to overcome him by means of brute strength. But Tsuyoshi held tightly onto the sword given to him by his father, unrelenting. Annoyed, Haya struck out with his second kodachi, coming dangerously close to severing the boys arm.
At the same time Mari attacked Eiji, with a few swift blows slicing the bokutou cleanly in two. He retreated not quickly enough, and his life may have ended then had Tokio on interfered. Her tanto locked with one of Mari's two blades, pushing her back as Eiji scrambled to find another weapon.
"No one touches my children," Tokio hissed, green eyes blazing like that of an enraged feline. "I won't let you."
"I don't think that's what you have to worry about now." Mari disconnected the second kodachi from the shaft, twisted it around, and stabbed the blade into the woman's unshielded stomach.
Tokio gasped, biting her lip so that she wouldn't cry out despite the agony. Blood began to seep along the sword length and down the front of her colorfully patterned kimono. Then the kodachi was ripped out once more with a sickening tear of flesh. She dropped to her knees, gripping the wound as her fingers became stained red and warm. Someone was calling to her; Tsuyoshi and Eiji were quickly at her side. "Mother—Mother!" the former cried.
"Damn it, Hajime," she whispered faintly, untying her outermost obi layer and retying it around her stomach tightly to stop the blood. "You made it look easy. Why didn't…" She stopped, grimacing as blood welled thickly in her throat. "You never told me it hurt this much…"
"Tokio-san, hold on," Eiji said, reaching to take her tanto. "We'll—"
"No. No, run from here." She snatched the blade from him and clasped it to her. "Both of you, just go."
Haya kicked the woman in her side, and she cried out as she rolled onto her back. "Dumb bitch," he growled. "Don't you get it? You're all going to die."
Tsuyoshi whirled on him, sword in hand and fire in his eyes, and he charged. He and Haya exchanged several blows until Mari attacked from behind, cutting a long gash down the boy's back. With a cry he fell to the floor. The man's laughter filled his ears. He tried to climb back up—he had to, for his mother—but the pain was so intense that he couldn't manage to lift his head. "Father…"
"I told you," Tokio whispered, pulling herself onto her knees. "No one touches my children."
Mari brought her now reconnected staff down, ready to end the boy's life, but Tokio was just fast enough. She lurched forward, on hands and knees she taking the blade into her own back and crying with the pain. But she was firm in her determination. The anguish spread all through her, causing her body to shake and blood to cascade sluggishly from her lips; it didn't matter. All she saw was her son. "Tsuyoshi," she spoke, choked and suffering, "go."
"Mother…" He twisted, trying to see her, but it was difficult for him to move from his stomach. "Mother, no…"
Eiji scampered to her side, carefully pulling the injured youth out from his protector. Haya and Mari watched, one bemused, the other indifferent. He slung Tsuyoshi's arm over his shoulders. "Tokio-san," he whispered. "Can you run?"
"No…" Tokio lifted her head, catching his eyes with hers. She smiled faintly. "Go. Take my son and leave. Please." She shifted the tanto that was pressed hidden against her chest. "Live, and be a man like your brother."
Eiji's wide eyes brimmed with tears. "Tokio-san…I will." His anger was overflowing, but he remembered Kenshin's words to him; if they all died there, who would that make happy? And if he could lead the two murderers away…and if he could get Tsuyoshi to a doctor, and then send one back for Tokio…
If he could save one life, as his brother had…
"Thank you, Eiji." Tokio spun around, uncaring of the sword still lodged in her shredded flesh. She lunged at Mari and tackled her to the ground. The younger woman was able to knock the tanto away, but even then her attacker refused to withdraw. Tokio screamed and clawed at the woman's face with her nails, smeared blood on her clothes, raving like a demon. Haya cursed as Eiji lifted up his limp brother and ran for the door. He started to give chase, but seeing his sister in such a state thought otherwise. He dragged Tokio off her victim by the hair and threw her to the floor.
"Mother!" Tsuyoshi strained against the other boy, attempting weakly to escape and return to his mother's side, but he was unable to. Eiji pulled him out of the room and away.
Mari sat up, staring at the blood that now covered her. It was on her hands and clothes, in her hair and mouth, so that none of her five senses were left unstained by its presence. Fearfully she attempted to scrub it away—she'd never experienced the feeling of a human life soaking her the way it did now. It settled on and in her like a hot skin, and she was terrified.
Tokio flopped on her back, staring blindly at the ceiling above as she listened to the man chiding his sister for being foolish. She was exhausted. Her body was already growing numb from the loss of blood, and her sight was quickly fading. The smell of blood filled her senses. Choking on each breath, she closed her eyes and prayed silently. All I ask is that my children…those two boys…someone please protect them…
The blade cut her flesh a third time. She did not cry but only tightened her fists and suffered in silence. Her husband did not cry when hit. Many nights he'd returned to her in such a state of injury that frightened her terribly, but he never uttered a word of complaint, and of her was demanded no less. Crimson fluid surrounded her in a slowly growing pool, forever staining the tatami with her fading life. She endured, smiling quietly at the darkness collected above her. A very insignificant thought came to her: she would never know if Kenshin ever confessed to the dojo girl, and she would never convince Sanosuke to let her meet Tsukioka. But then she regretted most of all not being able to see her husband one last time.
Hidden in the shadows of a nearby house, Akira watched in bewilderment as the two boys ran from the inn and down the street. Those townspeople that tarried late about the city turned and stared, murmuring to themselves, a few offering their help but swiftly denied. Akira waited motionlessly for the boys' mother to exit as well, but he didn't see her. Instead Mari stumbled outside, covered with blood and visibly shaken. He ran to her side. "Mari-san! Are…are you…"
She shook herself, clearing the image of the bloodied woman from her mind. "I'm all right," she said a bit weakly, drawing him away from the crowds of people that were gathering to see. "But those kids—"
"Where's Hayato? Is he all right?"
"Yes—yes." A moment later the man in question burst from the inn, also bloody, bringing a chorus of startled and horrified shrieks from the bystanders. "See? Now where did those kids go?"
"That way." Akira pointed. "Are you—did you—kill her?"
"No," Hayato interrupted, dragging them with him as he started in the direction the two boys had gone. "But she'll bleed to death soon enough. Now come with me—we've gotta get those little shits."
"H-Haya…" Akira hesitated, shocked and feeling nauseous from the stench of fresh blood. Had his friends…his best friend and Mari…they'd killed the woman he'd eaten lunch with only days before. She was mostly likely lying in her room, alone and slowly dying. She'd spoken so highly of her husband, and now she would never him one last time before she died.
By now Haya and Mari were far down the street, and they didn't look back. Akira went the other way. He knew what he was doing was foolish and most likely would get him killed, but a strange feeling had enveloped him, and he had to keep going. Perhaps he thought he could erase some of his guilt if he did this last favor for the woman. Perhaps he could even safe her life.
Kenshin worked quickly. It was a simple matter finding the marksmen once he was made aware of their presence, and he leapt along the stronger branches of the trees, tossing them to the ground. Several were brought down by Saitou's officers. He was able to remain unscathed by their bullets, but when one impacted against a nearby branch a large chunk was sent scraping against his right forearm and wrist. Once he had disposed of this last threat he jumped down once more, surveying his work.
"Kenshin, you okay?" Sanosuke came running up the hill, his arm a bit bloody but other than that unharmed. He wiped sweat from his forehead. "Damn, that was intense. You get hit?"
"A scratch." Kenshin sheathed his sword, and grimaced only faintly as his wound complained. The fingers of his right hand were a bit stiff and slick with blood. He began to wipe them on his sleeve, and was startled to find the garment nearly falling off his body.
"Kenshin," Sanosuke said, his voice quiet with concern. "Your back…"
Kenshin twisted his head, trying to see, and was finally made aware of a searing pain along his spine. It was a familiar feeling—the sensation of his charred skin reminded him very much of his battle with Shishio. Pushing those unpleasant memories aside he focused on this new injury. "It is not serious," he said, though his face betrayed the words with a look of strain. When he was fighting it was simple for him to block the pain, but now he could feel it in full. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah. Fine." Sanosuke undid the wraps on his forearms, using one to bandage his arm roughly. The other he tied around Kenshin's injured arm for him. "But you'll have to see that fox-doctor about your back—it looks pretty bad from here."
"Yes. But…what of Saitou?"
He pointed. "There."
Across the clearing Saitou was tying a bandage about his injured leg, while still barking orders to his men and the fire patrol that had arrived. He stood, tested his weight, and then lit himself a fresh cigarette.
"At least he looks all right," Kenshin said, relieved. Though the man's right arm appeared sluggish, the wound could not have been serious. Kenshin was about to suggest they go over there when a familiar figure came running out of the line of trees. He frowned. "Is that…Akira-dono?"
"Who? That kid from the other day?"
Akira moved quickly to Saitou and spoke to him briefly. Even from the distance that separated them Kenshin could tell he wouldn't raise his head to meet the policeman's gaze. After the exchange Saitou snapped something to his inferiors, then started out of the clearing.
"What the hell was that?" Sanosuke muttered. "What is that kid doing here?"
"I do not know." Kenshin frowned, watching as Akira scampered away in a different direction. "But something is not right. I feel as if something has happened."
His friend made a disconcerted face. "You're really weird, you know that Kenshin? You've been getting damn philosophical and 'all-knowing' lately. Either that or damn paranoid."
He sighed. "You might be right. Come on—we should help get the fire down."
Eiji cursed and pushed his strength to its limits. He had to go faster. He wasn't sure if the pair would follow them, but it would be easy enough with the trial of blood Tsuyoshi was inadvertently leaving. There was no way to help that, though; the fluid had already soaked through the shirt-bandage Eiji had tied around his torso. The boy's only hope now was to find a hospital, or a policeman—
Ahead of him Eiji could see warm yellow light spilling into the dusty streets. It leaked onto the old wooden sign: Oguni Clinic. Isn't that… Eiji quickened his pace despite his already aching limbs. "Takani-sensei!" he called, nearly stumbling under his friend's weight. "Sensei!"
Megumi appeared in the door, stifling a yawn, but she quickly forced herself awake upon seeing the pair. "What happened?" she demanded. "No, wait—just bring him in." She helped Tsuyoshi into the clinic and laid him on his stomach on one of the tables. "Eiji-kun, wasn't it? Are you hurt? Then go fetch me some water, quickly." She tied her hair back and set upon ripping the boy's clothes away from the wound.
"But Takani-sensei," Eiji heaved breathlessly, "we were being followed. They may come here."
"Followed?" she echoed, not looking up from her patient. "Who? Why?"
"I don't know, but…" He choked on frustration and angry tears, and quickly slapped them from his face. "We had to leave Tokio-san. You have to help her—she'll die."
"Tokio-san?" Megumi finally lifted her head. "Where is she?"
"She's dead," Tsuyoshi hissed. He pressed his forehead into the stiff mattress, tears running freely from his eyes. Eiji was surprised, as he'd passed out soon after they'd left the inn. Now he was clinging desperately to consciousness. "Butchers…they….they killed her…" He pounded his fist into the bed. "They killed my mother!"
Saitou ran. He had a disturbing feeling, but he didn't understand why. He was not a man given to panic, nor did he usually resort to abandoning his men on a whim, but his instincts told him something was wrong.
"You're Fujita-san, aren't you? You…you should go home right away. Please, just go as fast as you can, sir."
He didn't know why he was listening to the boy—it could have been a trap, or a ploy, but he was going anyway. He was running as fast as his injured leg would take him.
When Saitou reached thee inn he was startled to see several policemen about, speaking to some people on the street and the other inn customers. There were bloodstains marking a path in the road—the stench hung heavily about him. His heart began to pound as he hurried past the crowd and into the building. "Hey!" one of the officer's called after. "What are you—"
He didn't stop to respond. The anxiety was building up in him now, and he sprinted down the hall to where his room had been. The panel was open and he could hear soft talking inside. He skidded to a halt at the opening. "Tokio?"
The voices ceased, and Saitou entered quickly. The first room that the boys had been using was empty, but their things were in a mess and the tatami was stained. What the hell…? He strode swiftly to the panel that led to the next room and threw it open. "What the hell happened here?" he demanded.
Dr. Oguni and another man glanced up, as did two police men who were standing nearby. "Are you Fujita Gorou?" one asked.
"I am." The room was in total disarray, futons strewn about and bloodstains scattered everywhere. Tsuyoshi's sword and Eiji's broken bokutou had been laid aside. But what drew Saitou's eyes first was the woman that law in the room's center, her once beautifully patterned kimono now painted crimson, surrounded in more liquid of the same color. He hair was down and soiled, her skin pale. From her lips issued forth weak and strained breath.
Saitou dropped slowly to his knees at his wife's side, staring in disbelieving horror at the brutal wounds that had been inflicted on her. "How…?" he breathed, reaching as if to touch her and then recoiling. "Who did this to her?" When he didn't get an answer immediately he snatched the aging doctor by the collar and dragged him forward. "Who did this to her?" he shouted, causing the others in the room to back away in fright. "Why aren't you helping her?"
"I-It's too late, sir," the doctor stuttered, shaken by the man's temper. "By the time we got here she'd lost too much blood—"
"Bastards." He tossed the old man away in disgust, then returned to his wife. She wasn't dead—not yet, but her breath was barely above a whisper in the stillness of the room. "Tokio," he coaxed. Pulling off his white gloves he touched her face. Her eyelids fluttered. "Tokio, open your eyes," he half instructed, half pleaded. "Look at me. It's Hajime."
Tokio coughed, spilling blood over her chin. Slowly, her eyes opened partway. They stared listlessly up at the ceiling, blinded by pain. "Ha…" She couldn't speak, as her throat had been long since coated with red life-fluid. She shuddered.
"Hush, Tokio." Saitou took her hand and warmed it between his own. Then he placed it on his face. "Keep your hand there," he told her softly. "You know it's me. I came back, and I'm going to take care of this mess you got yourself into. Hold still and stay with me." She smiled weakly with recognition of him, and he began to work. He tightened the bandages on her, arranging them in a way he'd learned from experiencing similar injuries. He was able to hide his fear in the purposefulness of his task. "Now," he said to the men as he worked. "What the hell happened?"
"There were two murderers here," one of the officer's replied. "A young man and woman. They killed four other guests."
"What about my sons?"
"They're being searched for. We didn't find any children's bodies."
Thank God. "Who were they?" Tokio moaned in pain, and he quickly reassured her by running his fingers through her hair. His anger rose as he watched her tremble; whoever had done this would soon pay dearly.
The second officer came forward, showing him a slip of paper. "It was round beside her, sir, but we couldn't decipher it."
Saitou turned his attention to the crumpled note, quickly scanning the hastily scrawled ink. It had been written in code, one that the Miburo had once used. It was the address of a place not far from where he was now. A trap. But it doesn't matter—they'll be punished for this. "Do you have any descriptions of the two?" he asked.
Tokio inhaled shakily. By now the pain had stolen most of her senses, or else the blood had overpowered them; her world now consisted only of the feel of her husband's cheek and his voice, even if she couldn't make out the words. She could hear, however, that he was speaking sharply to the men around her. Oh Hajime, don't be angry with them she wished she could have spoken aloud. His breath fell heavily and rapidly over her fingers. You're scared, aren't you? Didn't I help you at all? You can't hide in anger.
She was going numb now. She couldn't feel her legs, and her arm was growing heavy. There was not much time for her, and he wasn't even watching her now. He was afraid and being carried by denial—he wanted her to survive. But in sinking into the abyss Tokio knew there was nothing to be done. She knew once she'd taken the blade for her son that her sacrifice was meant to be a complete one. If she could only find a way to say goodbye…
Saitou was startled as her hand slipped don his face, winding tightly around his uniform collar. Her fingers were straining and cold. She pulled him forward, and because her strength was lacking he gave no resistance. She pulled until his face as just above hers, her breath ragged against his skin. Then she kissed him. Her lips which were once soft and sweet were now harsh, trembling, and tasted of blood; but somehow, though it pierced his very organs and bones with the realization of her coming end, they alone retained some warmth in that last moment. Even before the kiss ended he could feel her hand clutch tightly onto his collar, and her body stiffened momentarily before lying still. By the time he recoiled the last of her form's heat had departed; her eyes, brilliant and beautiful, had closed forever.
Saitou pulled back slowly. It took several moments for him to fully comprehend what had happened. He'd watched men and woman die—had taken the lives of more men than he could remember—but this was infinitely different. Over ten years he'd lived with this woman; he'd watched her work and sleep, seen all the life she had to offer, but now all that was gone. He couldn't believe that the fire which had led him to love her was now nothing but cold ashes. It wasn't possible.
"I'm sorry," Dr. Oguni said quietly. "There wasn't anything we could have done for her."
But the man never heard him. He drew the body into his arms, not caring as her blood stained his skin red. In feeling the coldness of her flesh he knew that she was dead. He turned his head upward and howled in rage like a lost beast.