When Sakura Blossoms Fall

Chapter 10: Betrayal

When the rain had finally stopped pouring, and Chizuru had been safely returned to her tent, Kenji reentered his own, sinking next to his belongings with a heavy sigh. Noda, the only soldier with whom he now shared the small shelter, was reclining in one corner, cigarette hanging limply from his lips. He chuckled and opened one eye to watch Kenji.

"What's so funny?"

"I see you're not dead."

Kenji lacked the desire and energy to counter his quip. "No."

Instead he just began shoving his few scattered belongings into his pack, and fastened the sakabatou to his side.

"You leaving or something?"

"Maybe. Look after Chizuru for me if I don't come back, all right?"

Noda smirked and shrugged. "Whatever."

Kenji slipped silently out of his tent and into the black night, his possessions slung over his shoulder. His feet padded quietly over the damp ground, squishing slightly and leaving water-filled footprints behind him. He was going to confront Itagaki about his decision concerning Soichiro, and for some reason he suspected that the coming conversation would be less than pleasant. He might have to flee quickly.

Itagaki's tent came into view within a few moments. A soft yellow glow emanated from behind the thin white walls, and a quiet pair of voices floated across the night air to his ears. Sighing, Kenji paused a few feet from the door. Itagaki was conversing with the lieutenant. He turned on his heel, planning on returning to his own tent to wait patiently for his opportunity. But he came to a dead halt as a certain name passed his commanding officer's lips.

"Chizuru?" the lieutenant asked. "What's she got to do with Colonel Yuasa?"

"I owe him, remember? He was in camp the other day and saw her. He said she'll do."

Kenji stood dumbfounded on the other side of the canvas.

"You filthy piece of—"

"That's why you got rid of Raikouji, right?"

"Of course. You didn't expect her brother to let me trade her off to that man, did you?"

There was laughter from both men. Kenji felt as if he was going to vomit.

"Now we just have to take care of that Himura brat."

"You really think he'd get in the way?"

"You better believe I will," Kenji whispered.

Itagaki shrugged. "I'm not sure, but it's better not to take any chances."

"So how will you get rid of him? There won't be any more battles for him to die in . . . so, a bribe?"

Itagaki chuckled. "No, he wouldn't accept a bribe. But don't you know who Himura is?" There was a pause, during which Kenji assumed the younger officer was shaking his head. "That young man in our regiment is the sole son of the legendary Hitokiri Battousai."

Kenji tensed, wondering how Itagaki could have accessed such information. Then he heard the lieutenant slowly release his breath in a low whistle. "Wow," he murmured. Then, "but how is that going to help? After all, we're in China. No one here knows the legends."

"Ah, but they do, my friend. Himura, the elder," Itagaki quickly added, "fought five years ago in the Sino-Japanese war. And from what I hear, he played a great part in bringing on the Japanese victory. The Chinese aren't exactly on good terms with him."

There was silence for a few moments.

"Then . . . what exactly is the plan?" the man asked somewhat hesitantly.

Itagaki's lips curled in a demonic smile. "We just let the news leak out. There will be enough revenge-seekers that Himura will be on the run in no time."

Kenji's fists clenched and unclenched spasmodically at his sides. And if his commander's betrayal thus far hadn't been sufficient, the man's next words stung him to the core.

"It won't be a major loss, anyway. Himura is living in the past, in the time of his father. Have you seen that old sword he carries around? And besides, our duty here is virtually over. He won't be of any use to us anymore."

At that the lieutenant allowed his composure to completely slip, laughing heartily. "Ah, colonel, you are truly a man of the devil."

Itagaki smirked. "As long as Himura doesn't know that."

Kenji barely retained control of himself as his commander proposed a toast, and the clinking of wine glasses came from within the tent. He took a few deep breaths, though his fingers continued to fidget in agitation at his sides.

With an air of fabricated calmness, Kenji stepped forward and gently pushed the flap of the tent aside, his expression hard and cold, but controlled. Itagaki glanced up at hearing the swish of canvas, and a wide grin spread across his face. He raised his glass in acknowledgment of his minor, and the dark wine swished gently in the pure crystal glass between his fingers.

"Ah, Himura! We were just talking about you."

Kenji's hand slipped involuntarily to his side, wrapping itself around the hilt of his sword. Slowly he withdrew the weapon, the silver blade glistening even in the dim light, accentuating its fatality.

"So I heard," he replied, his voice thick with resentment.

Itagaki just watched him for a few moments, blinking blankly. Then his fake smile slowly faded, his face paling.

"Himura, what are you doing?"

"Proving my usefulness."

Kenji wanted to smirk at the horrified looks that accompanied his words, apparent on the faces of both men.

"H-Himura," Itagaki stuttered, "now don't do anything rash. We wouldn't want that, now would we?"

Kenji scowled at this commander's cowardice in the face of death. The fact that the man he had respected so much was being reduced to a spineless worm after one simple threat was highly disappointing.

"Shut up," Kenji said in a low growl, raising his father's sword high above his head and facing Itagaki directly. The commander began to involuntarily back up, until he fell backwards off of his chair and began to scuttle toward the back wall of the tent on his hands. Kenji took a step forward and dropped the sword in a swift motion.

Itagaki gulped nervously and loosened his collar as sweat poured down his pallid face. The blade had stopped in the middle of its motion right at his face, and now practically tickled the bottom of his chin.

Kenji pushed the blade forward ever so slightly, prodding his commander's unprotected throat. All three of the men in the tent knew that in one swift strike, Itagaki could be dead. Kenji's penetrating icy blue eyes bore into the soul of the man, cutting any words of protest he could mutter short. He tightened his grip on the sakabatou, and steadied himself for the final blow.

He was just seconds away from taking the man's life when his blood ran cold and his frosty eyes flickered to the blade in his hand. He blinked a few times, confused and suddenly questioning his sanity. As would be expected, the reflection in the blade was his. But he could have sworn that just a moment ago, the face wasn't that of a young hardened member of the Japanese Imperial Army. No, he had seen his father.

The image had been as clear as if his father had been standing next to him, complete with wide violet eyes, fiery red hair, and a gentle smile. And of course, under it all, was the sorrow that had always accompanied him due to his never-ending atonement.

Kenji lowered his sword, suddenly unable to bring himself to take the man's life. His mother had suffered immensely because of decisions like this. He wouldn't do that to anyone else. He didn't want an atonement to pay and burden others with. He wasn't as low as his father.

As Kenji reflected silently on his decision, Itagaki seized the opportunity and screamed for the nearest help. Instantly the tent filled to capacity with other soldiers. Itagaki, still clutching his throat even after having been helped to his feet, pointed an accusing finger at Kenji.

"He tried to kill me!" he announced, and Kenji immediately found himself restrained by several men. His sword was ripped right out of his grasp, and his hands were pulled roughly behind him and tied with coarse ropes. He fought back to the best of his ability, but the strength of his multiple opponents was overwhelming.

He smirked, however, as Itagaki stepped forward and pulled his hand away from his neck. His usually pristine white glove was stained, and Kenji noticed a small bleeding nick on his throat. He had come closer to killing the man than he had thought.

Kenji's smirk quickly disappeared as Itagaki grabbed the sheath at his side, returning the sakabatou to it and handing it to the nearest soldier. Kenji glanced at the man. It was Noda. Upon making eye contact, his former friend's eyes widened before flitting away to stare at the ground. Kenji's shoulders sagged. Why was it that all friendships would end for the sake of the government, even in its times of corruption?

Noticing that Kenji was ignoring him, Itagaki lifted his hand and struck him swiftly across the face, leaving a stinging red mark on Kenji's cheek. Kenji shifted his icy gaze to the man without even blinking. Itagaki frowned at Kenji's abstainment from showing pain.

"I'll teach you some respect," he muttered, and drove his fisted hand into Kenji's abdomen. Kenji's eyes flew open at the unexpected blow, and he would have slipped to the ground if not still supported by the soldiers restraining him.

He glared up at his commander, his breathing labored. He saw Itagaki's lips move, but heard nothing above his own heaving breaths. Just as the men holding him began to drag him backwards out of the tent, Ai entered, slipping her arm through Itagaki's and smiling and waving innocently.

Kenji chuckled to himself and dropped his head, closing his eyes. That woman.

Kenji groaned loudly as he finally came to. He could tell before even looking that his stomach was heavily bruised. For a coward, Itagaki sure had a strong punch.

His cheek was also swollen significantly, and that side of his face throbbed incessantly. Why had Itagaki chosen the same cheek as Chizuru? He tried to reach up to touch the red flesh, but instantly moaned again. His hands were tied tightly, and any movement caused the tough ropes to cut into his already tender skin. He shifted his ankles. They were tied too.

He slowly opened his eyes, able to see from the sliver of candlelight peeking through from the front of the tent. He was laying on his side in the dirt, the voices of guards clearly discernable from just outside.

The captive sighed heavily. So this was what his father and Yahiko had left him with. Because of their influences, he was completely incapable of killing, even under the circumstances of war. He snorted.

"Some birthright," he muttered to himself.

How am I supposed to be strong when I'm faced with that? I can't even fight back for myself.

His thoughts were interrupted as a woman's voice reached his ears from just outside. There were only two women in camp, and he really didn't want to face either of them right now. Quickly he turned onto his other side so that he would be facing away from her when she entered.

He heard her pass through the flap and stop a few feet from him.

"Kenji?"

He remained silent, staring blankly forward.

"Kenji," she repeated, a pout passing over her features, "I know you're awake."

Kenji shifted to confirm her suspicion, but remained quiet. She walked to the other side of him, squatting in front of his face in an attempt to make him look at her. He just stared at her feet.

"So much for being your favorite soldier, huh?" he said softly in referral to the title she had given him multiple times in the past. "I guess keeping Itagaki happy for the sake of your job is most important to you after all."

Ai scowled, her grey eyes narrowing. "You know I hate Itagaki."

"But you betrayed me."

"Of course I did, idiot. You're probably going to end up committing seppuku. Did you honestly think I'd take your side? It's been fun kid, but not that fun."

"You talk as if there was actually something between us."

She frowned again. "Yeah, well there wasn't. You made sure of that, didn't you?"

Kenji chuckled to himself. "I guess you're right. How could I have been foolish enough to trust a worthless and vain—"

"Don't say it," Ai interrupted, her eyes downcast. Kenji fell silent for a few moments, then finally looked up at her face.

"Goodbye, Ai. Please leave now."

She lifted her eyes from the ground to meet his. "Don't I at least get a goodbye kiss?" He just stared at her, his eyes obviously revealing his lack of amusement at her semi-serious last request. Ai sighed and stood, glancing at him for the last time.

"Fine. You were never really any fun, you know. See you, kid."

She disappeared from the tent, and Kenji waited a few moments as he heard his guards bid her a good night. Then he managed to push himself into a sitting position, and shook his arm in a way that made a dagger he had previously hidden in his sleeve slip to the ground with a soft plop.

After a few minutes he had managed to cut himself free, and he moved to the back side of the tent. Itagaki had made a mistake in not posting any guards there. Quickly and silently he slit the canvas, and slipped through it into the black cover of night.

The camp was alive with excitement for hours after dark that night. Not only had a major battle been fought and won, but they had experienced a skirmish within their own ranks. Kenji was the talk of more than one drunken conversation that night.

One soldier, however, quickly grew tired of the discussion, and dismissed himself to retire to bed early. The man sighed as he entered the tent he was staying in, forcing himself not to glance in the direction of one of the empty futons near his own. He wouldn't have been able to see it anyway, though. The interior of the tent was blacker than the night sky. He groped around in the darkness for a few moments for a candle, then struggled to light it. After a few moments he met with success, and a tiny flame flickered across the tent walls.

He would have screamed if not for the hand that was quickly clamped over his mouth. The lighting of the candle had revealed another figure in the tent, standing just inches from him. The look of surprise on the other man's face had been almost as great as his own, but it had disappeared as he had dropped the candle with a small yelp of shock.

He scrambled away and across the floor as his assailant released him, his bare hands searching the floor for the fallen candle. He soon found it and relit it. This time, however, there were no surprises. As the tent was bathed in light, the mysterious man found a scowling soldier standing in front of him, a bayonet held just inches away from his chest.

The soldier's scowl faded as recognition dawned. His grip on his gun loosened, but he still kept the bayonet up and ready to strike.

"Kenji?"

Kenji's eyes were narrow and unmoving, ignoring the weapon at his chest.

"Noda," he said coldly, barely above a whisper, "my sword."

Noda backed up a step, shaking his head.

"No. You . . . you betrayed Itagaki—"

"Itagaki was the one to betray trust," Kenji retorted bitterly. "My actions were merely in self-defense." He took a step toward the confounded soldier. "Now, Noda, my sword."

"You escaped, didn't you Himura? They'll be looking for you . . ." He took a few more backward steps toward the entrance of the tent. "I can't just let you go free—"

"Noda!"

Noda froze at the word. Kenji's glare was cold enough to send chills up and down his spine.

"What?"

"Does our friendship really mean that little to you?" Kenji hissed. "Itagaki tried to have me killed, Noda. He's the reason Soichiro is dead. Are you going to let him deceive you, too?"

Noda's eyes flickered from Kenji to the door and back. He was obviously struggling through an internal battle, wanting to believe his friend but fearing the consequences of such a decision.

After a few moments he took a deep breath, looking sadly at Kenji. "Your sword is behind you," he said quietly. Kenji whirled. Sure enough, the sakabatou was resting peacefully on the ground. Noda had sat it there upon entering the tent, before lighting the candle.

Without thinking, Kenji knelt to pick it up, mentally groaning as he heard Noda cock his gun.

"I'm sorry," his former fellow soldier said. "But my loyalty lies with Japan."

"Fool," Kenji muttered, turning to face the man. "Don't do anything you're going to regret, Noda."

"I wish I had said the same to you. Maybe then you wouldn't have gotten yourself into this mess."

Kenji scowled, but Noda was unmoving in his decision.

"Goodbye, Kenji."

Kenji smiled at the irony of the entire situation, standing and slipping the sakabatou through his belt. "Same to you."

"Himura's escaped!"

Several heads turned at the call, and men all around camp began to jump to their feet. Kenji just stood there, watching Noda, the one that had made the call. Noda never took his eyes from his former friend, though his gun was shaking violently in his nervous hands. Kenji smiled wryly, then lifted a hand in silent farewell.

"Don't move!" Noda cried. But Kenji ignored him, backing slowly toward the back of the tent. He withdrew his sword and shredded the tent wall with one swipe.

"Halt!" Noda yelled again. "Stop! Don't resist!" But the redhead was gradually disappearing into the darkness, with no acknowledgment whatsoever of the other soldier. Noda squeezed his eyes shut and fired, looking instantly up to see if he had hit his target. But Kenji was gone.

The camp had never seemed larger than it did now. Kenji slipped artfully through the shadows, but not getting caught proved to be a near impossible endeavor. He silently sidled along one tent's wall, keeping his eyes focused on the small group of soldiers just yards away that might spot him at any moment. He was almost there . . .

"Kenji!"

He whirled in horror.

"Chizuru?"

But he didn't have time for any more of an exchange. Every nearby eye had swivelled to stare at the two of them. He was a dead man.

"Chizuru, follow me!" He grabbed her wrist, and before she could react he was dragging her through the camp at breakneck speed. Then he whisked her around a dark corner, and both buckled over to catch their breath.

"Kenji," she gasped, "what's going on? Someone said something about you trying to kill Itagaki—"

"I can't explain everything now Chizuru, but I have to go," he interrupted. "You can't follow me, all right?"

"But Kenji, what happened?"

He opened his mouth to describe the unexpected occurrences he had recently experienced, but stopped short. He couldn't bring himself to reveal the true circumstances of her brother's death to her, at least not now.

"Listen Chizuru, do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Just answer! Do you trust me?"

"Yes . . ." she replied tentatively.

"Then you have to believe me when I say that I did nothing wrong. I promise. And you, you have to get out of here as soon as you can. Go back to Japan, all right?"

"But—"

"Promise me you'll go back to Japan, Chizuru!"

She sighed. "Yeah, I promise. Now tell me—"

"Shh! Someone will hear us! I have to go now."

"Kenji! Tell me what on earth is hap—"

"Be quiet Chizuru! Not so loud!"

"No! I will not be quiet until you explain—"

She stopped abruptly again, a result of another one of Kenji's interruptions. But this one hadn't been vocal. Far from it, in fact.

She practically dissolved on the spot. Her face deepened five shades of red. Then her entire body stiffened; her fingers curled into fists at her sides. Almond eyes became focused forward with a faraway stare.

And then it was over. Kenji pulled his lips from hers, gave her a weak smile . . . and he was gone.

Chizuru gazed after him in a daze and raised one arm in a timid wave.

"Bye . . ."

Next Chapter: Aku