Chapter 8
Disclaimer: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin, but Midori was my idea.
The woman is not moving.
Enishi ignores the fights going on below him; he doesn't care what happens to that idiot Bajin or that coward Otowa. They are no longer important. Should they survive their battles, Enishi will kill them himself; they know too much about him to be left alive now. No, the only three that matter in Enishi's plans right now are Gein, the Battousai, and Zetsumei Kurohyou.
And at the moment, Zetsumei Kurohyou is laid out on the floor of the Kamiya's training dojo. From this distance, Enishi is unable to tell whether or not she is breathing. Surely that fight against Gein was not so strenuous that it has killed her? Surely if she were dead, the Battousai would at least pretend to care? Shed a few fake tears over her corpse, as a mockery of her the way he mocked Enishi's onee-sama after killing her?
She must be alive; she must just have passed out. His spies have brought him stories of seeing the woman collapse in the middle of the street, unconscious between one step and the next and leaving her companions to fret over her. He knows from the reports he has been given that she was stabbed through the heart by the madman Makoto Shishio; perhaps the wound still weakens her? If that is the case, it will be of aid to Enishi; he needs the woman to stay out of the way now. There is no need for her to get hurt anymore. Soon Enishi will have her in his grasp, away from the monster who has twisted her mind and somewhere safe where he can take care of her until onee-sama will smile at him again. She must stay out of the way now.
He watches with little interest as the fist-fighter Zanza knocks out Bajin. The muscle-man had always been an annoyance to Enishi, low on brains and possessing a mouth that never seemed to close. It's something of a relief for Sagara to shut him up. Cold eyes drift lazily to Otowa – such a pathetic man to so enjoy hurting a child. He expects that will be another scar on the Battousai's soul, when Otowa kills the brat as the Battousai sits and watches.
Surprisingly, it is the boy who is victorious. It is the boy who is still standing when the dust clears – unsteady on his feet from blood loss, but standing for a moment before he collapses. It is Otowa who is sprawled unconscious or dead in the dirt, a stupid look of stunned incredulity upon his face. Pathetic that this man used so many of his little toys against the boy, hung the boy up by way of Otowa's hidden Rokudouko, and still managed to be defeated. Such a sad excuse for a man he is.
So it seems that the boy will live after all. Enishi watches, a smirk tugging his lips, as the Battousai carries the boy to a section of the courtyard that has not been destroyed during Zetsumei Kurohyou's fight with Gein's doll. He watches as the lady doctor rushes forward with her bag of tools, snapping insults at Sagara and puffing like a fish as he retaliates.
A voice cuts through the air, arrogant and insulting and unfamiliar. Enishi glances around the courtyard beneath him in search of the speaker; he had not counted on someone else showing up. Which of the Battousai's other friends is this?
Ah. Not a friend, but another animal.
A wolf.
Hajime Saito, former leader of the Third Squad of the Shinsengumi. Now living under the alias of Goro Fujita, an officer in the Japanese police force - the proverbial wolf in sheep's clothing. Enishi has been told that Saito was one of the men who aided the Battousai in his battle against Makoto Shishio, though more out of duty than anything else. All reports show that the animosity between the former assassin of the Ishin Shishi and the former leader of the Shinsengumi is as high as it ever was. So why is the wolf here tonight?
Not that it matters.
Enishi's eyes slid slowly to the side, watching the last of his pawns as the pawn exits his own balloon with all the stealth of a shadow. The smirk on his lips grows larger; he focuses again on his most hated brother-in-law to see that the Battousai is gazing up at him, fists clenched at his side.
The Battousai has been made aware of the pawn, too.
"Don't look so worried," Enishi calls, not able to resist the chance to mock the man he hates more than anything else in this world. "I didn't come this far just to launch a surprise attack."
A slight pause, as the smirk morphs into a full-out grin.
"At least, I wouldn't."
The words are barely out of his mouth before the Battousai is spinning towards the dojo, calling for the Kamiya wench to run even as he darts towards her. The grin stays in place, even as Enishi's foe reaches the dojo, even as he grabs the Kamiya girl and darts away. Even as the elongated hand bursts through the dojo's ceiling and pelts towards the unconscious figure of Zetsumei Kurohyou, Enishi continues to grin.
And when he sees the look on the Battousai's face, as the Battousai realizes that he has forgotten his pet and that she is now helpless…
Enishi cannot help but laugh in triumph.
The first thing to register when Midori woke was the sound of someone shouting.
The second was the sensation of hanging in midair.
When Midori opened her eyes to see that she was indeed hanging in midair, and the world was no longer spinning in dizzying circles, and that one of the figures standing below her in the courtyard was none other than Hajime Saito, she began to wonder if she were truly awake or just having an extremely bizarre dream. Was this a hallucination of some kind, brought about by blood loss and having her head pinched between the impossibly strong fingers of the puppeteer's doll? A nightmare perhaps, since Saito was here?
"Put her down! Kabu! Don't move!"
"Hm. Still getting yourself into trouble, youma?"
Nope, not a nightmare.
Having confirmed to herself that she was indeed awake, Midori attempted to turn and see what –exactly – she was currently hanging on. Something wickedly sharp jabbed several places in her back when she tried to move, accompanied by the tearing of cloth as her gi was shredded. Midori stilled, confusion clouding her already fuzzy mind even as the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end.
Danger.
"I wouldn't move if I were you, Zetsumei Kurohyou," a gravelly voice hissed in her ear. "Not unless you wish to die early."
"Kabu!"
Green eyes wandered down to rest on the furious, snarling redhead standing in the courtyard.
"Don't move!" he yelled, his indigo eyes flashing with worry.
Midori couldn't suppress a snort at his oh-so-helpful command. Yes, thank you, Kenshin. I would never have guessed that would be a bad idea with the sharp objects digging into my back.
Tired of being told to stay still like a child – and of hanging around like she was – Midori swung her legs back. Her feet connected with the wood of the training dojo's walls as the sharp things that had previously only poked her stabbed into her skin. Using her foothold, Midori launched herself forward and away, unconcerned with the sounds of fabric tearing or the barest hint of a breeze penetrating the bindings around her torso. Flipping once in the air, Midori came to a graceful landing right in front of Kenshin. She had forgotten, however, about her recently abused knee-cap; it was therefore a slight shock as the pain shot up her leg and caused her to stagger, stumbling forward to bump clumsily into Kenshin's waiting arms.
"Ow," she commented, extracting herself from Kenshin's arms and turning carefully to look up at her former captor. The buzz of Kenshin's voice in her ears was akin to the buzz of a mosquito: easily ignored as he tried to ask if she were alright, and just as easily ignored when he suggested that she should sit down at once. Her attention was focused solely on the bizarre creature perched like a bird of prey on the edge of the dojo's roof.
He was undoubtedly one of the strangest men Midori had ever seen. His skin, oddly enough, appeared to be red in hue; a black material, looking like some kind of shiny cloth bandage, was wrapped tightly around him from waist to mid-thigh as the only form of clothing. More of the wrapping was to be found on his hands, which added to his oddity: both of his arms were much longer than normal, his left even longer than the right. His legs, she noted, were also much longer than could be found on a normal person. Both feet and one hand were concealed within odd, boot like coverings that made him look weirdly as though he had three feet. His left hand, however, sported a glove upon which five sharp blades acted as fingers; she could see dark blots of her blood on the blades that had just dug into her.
Very, very weird man. Midori wondered what it said about Kenshin that he always seemed to draw attention from the freaks.
Potential opponent analyzed, Midori painfully turned so that she could hobble closer to Saito, wincing both in pain and in annoyance as the smoke of his cigarette stung her sensitive nose. He smirked at her, his icy yellow eyes as guarded as ever.
"My, my, youma. Have you grown too soft in the past year playing house with the Battousai?" Saito puffed deeply on his cigarette, purposely blowing the smoke right in her face. "Did your leash choke your spirit, or are you just weak?"
Ignoring his rude questions – she had spent over a month with the man the year before, and had grown immune to his many insults – Midori glanced around until she spotted the familiar sheath of her katana, buried under some junk that may once have been part of the training dojo's ceiling. Trying not to put too much weight on her injured knee, Midori carefully stalked to the pile of rubble and extracted her weapon, again ignoring Saito's snide comment about crippled house-pets. Now armed, Midori shot a bored – if hazy – look at her long-time enemy, sizing him up in a glance.
"What are you doing here? Surely you didn't stop by in the middle of the night to insult me?"
"Don't flatter yourself," was the curt reply, as Megumi stepped up to Midori and took her arm; apparently the doctor was going to insist that Midori get off of that bad leg. "I have more pressing concerns than bantering with a dead little girl."
Midori glared, the gesture not as effective when she was sitting on the ground with Megumi fussing around her. "Then hurry up and finish your business so you can leave. I have enough annoyances around me tonight without the addition of a wolf that never ceases to growl."
Before Saito could retort, a cry of "Kabu!" had Midori twisting on the ground, putting the kneeling figure of Megumi to her back and yanking her katana out of its sheath just in time to block the claws of the insanely long arm of her newest opponent.
"Dropping your guard around your enemy is foolish, Zetsumei Kurohyou!" Midori was disgusted when a freakishly long tongue snaked out of the man's mouth, seeming to almost wag back and forth as he talked and slipping over his dagger-sharp teeth. She pushed him awkwardly away and swung at him, only to miss as he dodged and sprang out of range.
"Are all of you cowards, to attack a woman who is injured when her back is turned?" Midori demanded, exasperated and annoyed in equal measures. Surely this freak show had witnessed her battle against the puppet master, and therefore knew that she was hurt? Whatever happened to chivalry, for kami's sake?
Her annoyance grew to see that the creep wasn't even listening to her, instead spouting words from that disgusting mouth at Kenshin and Kaoru where they both crouched closer to the training dojo. So the freak thought to attack her and then ignore her, adding insult to injury. Well, Midori would be more than happy to return the favor.
Saito, however, seemed to have other ideas; when Midori went to stand, a gloved hand came from nowhere to shove her roughly back to the ground as the heartless police officer strode past her, new cigarette clamped firmly between his thin lips. Midori growled threateningly, enraged when the bastard smirked at her over his shoulder. Why had she not killed him last year?
"Why don't you sit back with the women and children, youma, and make sure they don't get into trouble?"
Speaking over Sanosuke's indignant 'Hey!' from behind her, Midori snarled at the man who seemed set on making himself the bane of her existence. "Didn't your mother teach you how to act around women, bastard!"
"Yes, but I paid more attention on her lessons regarding what to do with rabid animals or haunting spirits. So be a good youma and shut up before I exorcise you."
Son of a bitch.
Ignoring her as Midori cursed him, Saito waltz over to stand beside the now-standing Kenshin, rudely waving Kaoru back to sit with the 'women and children'. "I came to ask what your connection to Enishi Yukishiro was, but I suppose there's no need. You keep the worst company, Battousai."
"Hello, Saito. Why are you here?"
Saito snorted, puffing once more on his cigarette. "Hm. I'm on the task force that's been trying to find out where Makoto Shishio acquired that battleship of his, so we can wrap up that mess from last spring. We traced it to that man up there."
Here he took his smoke from his mouth and waved it nonchalantly through the air, indicating Enishi over his head. The cigarette went back into his mouth before he continued.
"Shishio's uprising was put down just at the point when Japan was growing strong enough to resist foreign powers. The opening of a gate for kindling like weapons or what have you to enter from the closest direct point of contact with the outside world – namely Shanghai – is extremely unfortunate to say the least."
The slight smirk that had been present on Saito's face disappeared, and he spat the spent cigarette to the ground. "This man's very existence is a threat to Japan."
Midori strained her eyes in the darkness, watching as Kenshin turned his head to regard his former rival. "You intend to kill Enishi?"
Saito shrugged unconcernedly, already searching his pockets for another smoke. "Well, now, Battousai, whether I want to kill him, arrest him, or exile him, first we'll have to drag him to the ground. Any ideas?"
Kenshin nodded once, sliding his sheathed sakabatou into his cloth belt so that it rested at his hip. "He will come down if we defeat all of his underlings."
That smirk was back, even as Saito turned his cold gaze to the freak of a man perched on the roof of the dojo. "So, there is one monster left for me."
Midori started to grin. Oh, she knew that tone, that snide and condescending tone that was designed to make the person being spoken of feel like he or she was lower than dirt. This was going to be fun to watch.
From the rooftop, the gravelly voice barked a question at the ants beneath it. "Who the hell are you?"
Another snort; Saito was really enjoying this mess tonight, Midori mused. "A monster has no right to say that to me."
Midori started snickering and couldn't stop.
Oh, yeah, this was going to be lots of fun to watch.
The woman is alright.
Enishi scowls to himself, dark eyes darting from the smartass police officer to the hunched woman. He dislikes the way his thoughts continue to return to the woman. He will have her safely away from here soon enough; there is no reason to dwell on her right now. He needs to prepare himself for his upcoming fight with the Battousai.
He hates to admit it, but Enishi is slightly worried. Due to the interference of the Battousai's little friends, Enishi will have to fight him while he is completely rested instead of worn out from several battles. He has not had a chance to see any of the Battousai's moves for himself, and will therefore have to rely on second-hand information. He is confident in his own abilities, but he knows that the legends of the Battousai's strength and speed are not merely fiction. He had counted on getting at least a glimpse of those things that made the man a horror figure before fighting him; now he will have to go in somewhat blind.
Enishi forces these thoughts away. He will not be defeated. He will complete his Jinchu. He will avenge his onee-sama.
A howl of rage draws his attention, as the last of his pawns - Yatsume - dives towards the police officer, his extra-long left arm drawn behind him like a cat's paw posed to strike.
Enishi focuses once more on the last of the preliminary fights, refusing to dwell on the woman, the snag in his plans, or any insignificant fears that he will be beaten.
He will not be beaten.
He will win.
Midori hunched her body around the bloody mess that was Yahiko, shielding him as dirt and stone rained down upon them. The freak had leapt towards Saito, arm drawn out behind him; the next moment, Midori was covering Yahiko's unconscious form as the elongated limb flung a ditch-full of dirt into the air. Carefully raising her head while keeping the boy as covered as possible, Midori fixed her eyes on the stranger, who had boastfully identified himself by his clan name of Yatsume. He was crouched in front of Saito, who looked bored and disconcertingly un-intimidated and had not moved a muscle in the face of that first attack.
Midori realized that she was still smirking, and had to work to suppress the amused laughter fighting to get out of her chest. The old saying 'dig your own grave' popped to mind as she glanced at the long furrow of displaced earth, and she was unable to completely keep down her snickers.
Next to her, Midori could hear Megumi whispering to Sanosuke.
"It looks like he's decided to help Ken-san."
Midori gave the doctor a look that plainly told her to get real. Sanosuke broke in before Midori could open her mouth, however; he had seen her look and no doubt deduced that whatever she might have to say would doubtlessly be impolite.
"Nah, I think he just wanted a fight."
Megumi's face fell slightly.
"Yes, I suppose that is a more likely possibility."
Midori snorted, trying to adjust her sore body into a more comfortable position while not leaving Yahiko unprotected. More likely indeed. The day Saito offered to help Kenshin – or anyone, for that matter – out of the goodness of his heart was the day Midori finally turned into a true demon and dragged the entire nation of Japan through a portal to Hell with only her little finger.
From in front of them, the gravelly voice of the freak Yatsume could be heard to speak. "How was it? You see, I'm not a monster; I'm just more than human."
Yes, and that was so much different, wasn't it.
Saito was standing at ease before his opponent, his back to Midori and one hand resting casually against the hilt of his katana. Just from the way the arrogant man was standing Midori could tell that Saito was not impressed. From where Midori crouched over Yahiko, the sigh that Saito heaved was perfectly clear.
"Tell me: those fangs of yours? Is that body refinement, like what you've done to your arms and legs?"
Yatsume hesitated for a long moment before answering, as though he suspected that Saito's question was not as innocent as it sounded. "…Yes. They were ground down to points bit by bit since my childhood. My clan uses bone and ash to harden our teeth."
"And the tongue? Is that also body refinement?"
"…No. It is the tongue I was born with."
Midori stuck a fist into her mouth to stop her laughter even as Saito smirked triumphantly. "I see. So then, you really are a monster."
The freak Yatsume's body tensed so fast it hurt to watch him. Apparently the word 'monster' was not a welcome sound to his ears, if his screamed threat to kill Saito was anything to go by. Saito did not seem worried in the least, pulling his katana free of its sheath with an almost lazy move.
"Kill? You?" The bored disbelief in Saito's voice sent the freak into a frenzy, drool dripping from that disturbingly long tongue to fall in a growing puddle on the ground below. "Kill me? You obviously don't know who you are talking to, monster. Either that or you have been sorely misinformed as to your own limits. Both, however, I can easily rectify."
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
"You seem to be supremely amused, for a woman who should be in a hospital with those wounds," Megumi commented, eyeing the smirking Midori where she was still crouched protectively over the bloody and unconscious form of Yahiko. Midori spared the doctor a glance before refocusing on the combatants in front of her.
"Of course. I was stuck with that insufferable man for a month after Shishio died, and he seemed to delight in insulting my every breath," she explained, grinning as Saito nonchalantly waved aside another shouted death threat from his freak of an opponent. "You have no idea how nice it is to hear that derisive wit of his directed at someone else."
"Do you think he'll win, aibou, or am I going to have to jump in and save his ass in a minute?" This from the slouched figure of Sanosuke, looking bloody and battered from his own fight but standing next to Megumi's kneeling form as comfortably as a man without a care in the world. She was pleased to hear her friend use his occasional nickname for her, apparently remembering her threat of phyical injury to whoever was stupid enough to say her name before this mess was over and the strangers were dead or gone.
Midori did not answer right away; instead, she allowed herself a moment to assess the stranger Yatsume as he screamed at Saito, who looked as calm and bored as ever. Yatsume would have a much longer than usual striking range, due to the elongated left arm and the claws attached to it. If he stayed at a distance to strike, Saito might have a problem. Worse, if Yatsume continued to throw such large quantities of dirt directly into Saito's path, the former Wolf of Mibu would be slowed fractionally; this would in turn reduce the power behind his favorite attack, since the speed with which Saito's Gatotsu was performed was vital in its strength.
But truly, was there any chance that Hajime Saito – former leader of the Third Squad of the Shinsengumi and one of the only people ever to have defeated Zetsumei Kurohyou in battle – was going to allow himself to be beaten by a barbaric body refining technique used by miners?
…Nah.
No chance in Hell.
"He will win," Midori assured Sanosuke, even as she picked up the prone body of Yahiko and moved further away from the wolf and his prey; Sanosuke and Megumi followed her as she hobbled painfully towards the seated figure of Kenshin and the standing Kaoru, who was clutching the sheathed sakabatou in her hands. "Saito would kill himself before losing to someone like that. Just sit back and relax, Sanosuke; Saito can take care of himself."
"I"LL KILL YOU!" Once more the screamed threat pierced the dusty air of the Kamiya Dojo's courtyard.
Midori reached Kenshin, deposited Yahiko gently on the ground, and turned to face Saito just as the police officer slid into a very familiar crouch, frowning in apparent annoyance. "I'm sick of hearing that, monster. If you're going to try it, then hurry up and attack. I don't have all night to play with monsters."
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
This time Saito said nothing; instead, he launched himself forward into a Gatotsu, aiming to stab Yatsume in the abdomen. At the same time, Yatsume's overlong arm dug it's clawing into the earth of the courtyard, spraying a tidal wave of earth at the approaching Saito. Behind the ensuing cloud of dust, Midori could barely see the two men, thus missing the opportunity to see if either of them had injured the other. They shot out of opposite ends of the cloud, their feet dragging as they forced their bodies to come to a standstill.
For a moment, it appeared that neither attack had connected; both men looked perfectly fine, if coated with a fine layer of dust. It was only when Saito turned to again face his opponent that Midori got a good look at the bloody gash now staining his police uniform. She could not help but let a brow raise in surprise: Saito had been wounded?
Wonders would never cease.
"Saito," Midori called, unable to keep the unholy amusement out of her voice, and not bothering to stop grinning when he cast an annoyed glance in her direction. "Please tell me that this miner freak is not too much for you to handle. Have you grown soft in the last year, wolf?"
"Be quiet, youma," was the waspish reply, sneered out from those thin lips of his. "I do not need your pointless comments."
"It doesn't matter how strong you are, Saito!" Yatsume declared, that disturbingly long tongue of his wagging about once more and dribbling copious amounts of saliva all over the ground. "None who see the body refinement technique of the Yatsume clan can be allowed to live. All who come to know of our secret must die – so I will start with you, Saito, and then the Battousai, and then everyone else here until you are all dead! My clan's secret will be safe!"
"Are you really that much of a fool?"
Saito took another familiar stance, smirking as though his side had not just been cut open. His yellow eyes narrowed, whether in amusement or annoyance Midori was not sure.
"You don't honestly believe that you will have the opportunity to fight the Battousai, do you?" he jeered snidely at the visibly enraged creature before him. "Never mind, I believe that I might understand now – I understand that being a monster such as yourself, you may lack the necessary brain capacity to realize just how in over your head you are, you baka."
"I'LL KILL YOU!"
Saito's naturally narrow eyes narrowed even further until they were merely irritated slits of yellow that seemed almost to glow in the dark. "I'm tired of hearing that. Let's get this over with."
Again Saito sank into the Gatotsu stance and launched himself forwards; again Yatsume dug a trench in the courtyard with one hand only to send the soil directly towards Saito's attacking figure. An instant later there came a clang of metal on metal, and when the dust cleared again, the two men had actually locked weapons: Saito's Gatotsu had hit on Yatsume's metal claws as the freak had made a move to attack, so that Saito's katana rested in the clutches of what Midori was convinced was an insane freak with limited vocal skills.
"Ha! Nice try, you bastard, but I am no fool! An attack on the points of my claws will do you no good, Saito! My reflexes will never falter enough to break under your attacks!"
Saito leaned in, a terrible look on his face as he stopped with his nose bare inches from Yatsume.
"My attack starts right now."
And he moved.
Midori, under normal circumstances, might have felt pity for this disgusting freak of a man; she knew the pain of that particular style of Gatotsu all too well. It had beaten her, pinning her to the wall above the floor and completely at the mercy of a policeman she had wanted to kill for fourteen years. She did feel a slight twinge of sympathy: a strike of such power at such close range was excruciatingly painful, as she had experienced for herself last year in Kyoto. She still bore the scars from where the blade had entered through the far right side of her chest and from where it poked through her shoulderblade. Normally, a person could die from the Gatotsu Zeroshiki– as Saito had so politely told her during her forced month-long stay with him in Kyoto while she recovered from the debacle with Shishio.
Then again, Midori mused as a blood-curling scream split the still night air, Saito probably didn't normally use such a powerful attack on someone's hand.
The power behind the Gatotsu Zeroshiki was so great that it lifted Yatsume bodily from the ground, throwing him back a good distance before he landed once more. His hideous screams continued, and Midori could not blame the man for howling so; when he staggered to his knees and held up his elongated left arm, the hilt of Saito's katana was plainly visible where it stuck out of his palm. Saito had lodged his katana in Yatsume's arm, so that the blade protruded from the elbow while the hilt was on the outside of his palm. The claws on said hand had all shattered like the most fragile glass.
"Oh, that so disgusting…" Megumi whispered, sounding as though she were about to be sick.
"What are you yowling about?"
Saito advanced upon the screaming Yatsume, his hands patting his pockets for cigarettes as though he were merely taking a midnight stroll.
"Stop making that noise, monster. You should be thanking me; I could have just taken the whole arm off at the shoulder."
Faint heaving noises were heard from both Megumi and Kaoru, while Sanosuke swallowed audibly.
"Lucky for you, for monsters there isn't any need for me to fight to my fullest limit," Saito continued blandly, sounding for all the world as though Yatsume should feel immensely fortunate.
"So…is the fight…is it over now?" Kaoru asked hesitantly from her place next to Kenshin, her small hands clutching tightly to the sheath of the sakabatou. Midori understood her unease: if the fight was over, it was now time for what that bastard puppet master had termed the 'main attraction'. Kenshin would now have to fight Enishi, if all of the pawns had been taken out.
"NO!"
Midori focused her attention back to Saito and Yatsume just in time to see Yatsume jerk on the hilt of the katana in his arm. For a moment, she thought he would simply remove it and toss it aside; instead, she was amazed to see the freakish man before her jam the katana right back up his arm, letting out another howl as he did so. Was the man crazy?
"Of course," Megumi breathed weakly from her right, sounding shaken and sickened at the same time. "He's using the katana as a shaft to support the broken arm."
Midori's eyes widened in disbelief. The fool wanted to keep fighting?
She and Saito seemed to be thinking along the same lines, if the look of annoyance the police officer was currently sporting offered any indications. "Aren't you done yet, monster?"
"NEVER! I've waited fifteen years to fight and kill the Battousai! I would rather die now that run from this fight!"
Saito turned to face Yatsume fully, his shoulders heaving with the kind of sigh a harassed parent gives when dealing with an especially foolish child. "Fine then, just hurry up and die already."
"It's you that's going to die!" screamed Yatsume, even as he bolted lightning-quick away from Saito and in the direction of one of the dojo's still intact buildings. In a flash he was under the building and out of sight.
Midori lowered herself carefully to the ground, trying not to let Megumi or Kenshin see how much her body was hurting. Her chest was throbbing, aching, feeling like it would explode if she moved too suddenly. She mustn't let Kenshin see, he didn't need to be worrying about her when he fought Enishi. She would not let him see her pain. Vaguely she registered when the freak burst through the roof of the building he had just gone under, now laughing like a maniac instead of screaming like a banshee. She paid no attention to the words he said; she was tired and hurting and didn't care to listen to a freak while aforementioned freak bragged on endlessly. Saito had better not ask for her help, because if he did, he was screwed.
When the first of the buried bombs went off, Midori quite possibly had ten years scared off of the end of her life. She found herself practically laying over Yahiko, who was still out cold, as the courtyard literally exploded around them. Distantly she registered words in Yatsume's voice, his gloating laughter, the sound of Sanosuke and Megumi both exclaiming in surprise. It wasn't until she heard Saito's voice actually above her head that she looked up, eyes skimming over the decimated courtyard to fix on the airborne figures of both Yatsume and Saito.
"That was really obvious…you baka."
Yatsume's scream was cut off rather abruptly when he hit the ground face first. While Saito walked away in a casual manner, dusting off his police uniform, Yatsume did not move at all. Several steps from the freaky man's prone figure, Saito suddenly pivoted and walked back up to his defeated opponent, a smirk plastered on his thin lips.
"I almost forgot," Saito drawled, bending over to pick up Yatsume's limp left arm. "I really do need this back. It's too good a blade to rust from some monster's blood."
Midori watched, her eyebrows high enough to be hidden behind her bangs, as Saito calmly jerked his blood-coated katana free of Yatsume's arm. He proceeded to flick the weapon several times, flinging the blood from the blade. It did not appear that the renewed shrieks from Yatsume or the gagging noises from Megumi and Kaoru had any effect on him whatsoever.
Once all the blood had been removed, Saito sheathed his katana, stepped over Yatsume's body towards the rest of them, and began patting his pockets for cigarettes.
"So, Battousai, you said he would come down if he defeated all of his men, correct?"
Enishi watches as the last of his pawns is defeated, the hand around which his weapon's tie is secured tightening its fist in anticipation.
Now. It's finally time, time for his Jinchu, it's now, now - !
No. He must remain calm. He cannot allow his excitement at the prospect of finally punishing the man who killed his onee-sama to cause him to make mistakes. He must keep his wits about him.
Onee-sama, are you with me? Are you watching? Onee-sama, I'm going to make him pay, I'm going to get your revenge, just like you wanted, everything for you, everything to make you smile forever, please onee-sama please just one smile just one please smile so I know you're with me…
And she does. When Enishi finishes adjusting the gas, when the balloon at last sets itself down just inside the destroyed courtyard, when Enishi closes his eyes one more time before leaving the balloon…
Tomoe is smiling at him, that warm and gentle smile he has missed so much for the last week; she smiles happily at him once more, her arms wrapped comfortingly around the sobbing form of Zetsumei Kurohyou.
Yes, I know, I promise I'll help the woman onee-sama I promise I'll take her away and stop her crying I'll make it stop so please be happy I promise anything for you she won't need to cry anymore I'll take her away just like you want I promise I promise I promise…
He comes to a stop next to the ruins that were once Gein's Iwanbou, watching serenely as the older man struggles to poke his masked head out of the suit.
"Is it still usable?"
"The Iwanbou? I'm afraid not. The other, however…"
Enishi's cold eyes pierce the orbs behind the mask; he is pleased at the slight hint of caution he sees.
"I am making the adjustments already. It will be prepared in plenty of time."
A wide smile spreads across Enishi's face as he looks up, watching as the silhouette of the man he hates most in the world draws closer to him in the dark and dusty courtyard.
"Excellent."
A/N: Please review and let me know what you think.
