Author's note: Hi everyone! thanks for reading so far. Just a quick note here on anime vs. manga vs. live action: my headcanon borrows from all three, but hopefully not in a way that's too distracting for y'all. In the manga, Sano and Megumi and even Saitou all left Tokyo in the fall of 1878. I can accept that they go off and live their own lives, Sano exploring the world, Megumi opening her clinic in Aizu, Saitou prowling around Hokkaido or wherever... but... just not so soon after the business with Enishi. They'd all been through too much together to just break apart that quickly. I prefer to imagine they went their separate ways a year later, in the fall of 1879, at least a few months after Kenshin and Kaoru got married. So this story is set post-Jinchuu, after Megumi has told Kenshin that he only has a few years left of being able to use hiten mitsurugi...but it's also set well before the cast splits up and goes their different ways. Also I love Ayame & Suzume, so they exist in this story. Kenshin is just too cute carrying them around everywhere. :) ok, back to the ghost story now...
Chapter 11: Pretty enough
At last, Megumi declared there was nothing else they could do for the night. Their tiny patient was sleeping, aided by an anesthetic of Megumi's own creation. The dosage for one so small had been a blind guess, but so far, it seemed to be all right. The horrible slice across the little girl's abdomen had been cleaned and meticulously stitched shut, her organs safely back where they belonged. Her pulse was steady.
"It's up to you now, little one," Megumi murmured to the girl, smoothing a few strands of dark hair from the child's face. "Please... live."
Kenshin looked at Megumi, his face solemn, but deeply relieved. "She has a chance?" he dared to ask.
Megumi smiled. "It's difficult to say, with kids. Sometimes they die from the slightest thing, or for no reason at all...other times, they're ten times more resilient than the healthiest adult. There have been plagues that wiped out whole cities, which somehow a few children survived. This girl was lucky in that her internal organs were intact. But having been exposed to the air itself could cause an infection, to say nothing of her dirty clothes and whatever else. To answer your question though...yes. Yes, she has a chance."
Kenshin bowed his head. "Thank goodness," he whispered. "Megumi-dono, this is all thanks to your skill."
"I did what I could," Megumi said, matter-of-fact. "But now, we have one more patient to treat,"
"We do?" Kenshin blinked.
Megumi tilted her head towards the yard, where hoarse sounds of sobbing could be heard. "That boy," Megumi said sagely. "He may not be physically injured, but he's been crying his eyes out for hours."
"About that boy," Kenshin remembered suddenly, his shoulders tensing up. "It was him. He's the one who did this."
Carefully, Megumi dipped a clean hand-towel into a pot of heated water, and wrung it out. The steam rose from it as she twisted it in her hands. "And he regrets it," she said. "From the bottom of his heart, he regrets it." She folded the steaming cloth and placed it neatly on a tray, next to a cup of water. "Here, take this." She passed the tray to Kenshin. "Make him wash his face and drink some water. And please, talk to him. You've always been good with kids."
A waning moon rose as another hour passed, Kenshin sitting quietly beside the boy, listening to him croak his apologies in a voice broken by grief and anguish. Megumi watched from inside, knowing intuitively that it was best to let Kenshin handle this part.
"...I didn't know it would be like that," the boy was crying. "I didn't know she would... I didn't know everything would, would come out that way. I thought she would just be dead. If I knew how it would be, I would have never, ever done it. I would never have done it. Not for all the food in the world."
"You did this for food?" Kenshin asked softly.
The child looked away, ashamed. "There wasn't enough to feed all of us. And they told us she wasn't pretty enough to sell, so they told me to kill her."
Pretty enough... Without meaning to, Kenshin caused a tiny leaf to tear itself to bits as it blew across the yard. He swallowed, and carefully hid his hands in his sleeves, so the boy wouldn't see them clenched into fists.
"Who told you that?" he asked in a low voice.
"The... the hit squad. Of the Shuei-gumi. They were supposed to train some of us, starting today."
"Shuei-gumi?" Kenshin repressed his reaction to the name. The Shuei syndicate... that was the same yakuza that Yahiko had been with. "I see... and there are others there, like yourself?"
The boy nodded. "Lately they've brought in more and more kids. They sell some of the girls, and we help them with lifting stuff from shipments, and making deliveries to customers, because we're lower than the noses of the police."
Kenshin blinked as he mentally re-translated what the kid had heard into what an adult had probably said.
"But..." the boy took a shuddery breath, and continued. "Now, there are too many of us. The hit squad was bored today, so they gave us swords, and told us if we killed some of each other, we could eat. When we couldn't choose who to kill, they picked her. Then they picked me to do it. They said if I wanted to be a hit man, I had to do it. But... I don't want to be a hit man."
"A hit man, is it?" Kenshin repeated. This was new slang for an incredibly familiar function. He felt old, knowing that the youngest generation of criminals had already invented a new phrase to describe that particular occupation.
The child began speaking faster as the sequence of events came back to him, fresh tears rising in his eyes. "But I thought it would be fast, and I thought, I thought maybe she wouldn't mind dying, 'cause when you're dead you can't be hungry. And I wanted to do it the right way, the way I thought it would be the best, but, when, when her guts came out and the grown-ups saw the mess, they said she was disgusting and they left."
He stopped abruptly to take a huge gulp of air. "The other kids cried and told me to cut her neck, but I couldn't- I couldn't do it."
He hung his head, finished.
Kenshin felt the branches of nearby trees rustling, the leaves whispering heatedly to one another in the tense night air, echoing the turmoil in his own heart. The boy's story was darkly horrifying, yet all too believable. How common was tragedy of this sort, even in the new era? The callousness of human beings, after all, was unchangeable. Kenshin's focus returned to the sniffling child, who had at least made one compassionate choice.
"No matter what happened before," Kenshin told him solemnly, "At the end, you did the right thing. You brought her here, and saved her life."
"Ahem," said Megumi, appearing behind them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I've made the young man a meal. And as a doctor, I must insist that he eats it."
The boy looked to Kenshin for approval, and Kenshin nodded. With slumped shoulders and a bowed head, the boy allowed Megumi to shepherd him into the house.
"Also, Ken-san, we have a visitor..." Megumi added with a grim and tight-lipped look, before hurrying the boy indoors and out of sight.
Kenshin frowned, wondering who it could be at this late hour of the night, and why Megumi seemed suddenly in a rush to get the boy out of the way. Then he realized the answer:
Saitou Hajime.
The police inspector gave the barest tip of his cap, too-wide of a smile already stretched across his lean face. "I heard a little girl was murdered," he said, in the same amused tone he might have used to say he heard the sky was blue. "I came to investigate."
Kenshin didn't answer, didn't even turn his head.
Something about the way the former Battousai was sitting so perfectly still made Saitou realize that something was off.
The old wolf's eyes opened a bit further than their usual squint, his pupils contracting. "...you're different," he remarked, and stared Kenshin up and down, trying to figure out exactly what he was looking at.
"So, you've changed your clothes," Saitou observed. "And your hair. You might have actually combed it. Finally cleaning up your act for the Kamiya girl?"
Kenshin found himself wishing futilely that 'Lieutenant Fujita' would just go away. He didn't want to meet the former Shinsengumi captain's gaze.
He wasn't completely sure which version of himself Saitou would see in his eyes.
"I would say you're looking...smaller," Saitou continued, "but, that's probably just because your abilities have already deteriorated significantly since your last fight."
His tone was dismissive, but it was a shrewd enough insight to at least make Kenshin glance sideways up at him.
"You know about that?" he asked in a low voice.
Saitou grinned. "Of course I know about that. I have an extremely agile informant working for me these days."
"Do you mean Chou, the sword-hunter?" Kenshin asked, wondering how on earth he could have missed such a conspicuous broom-head snooping on him.
"I do not even remotely mean that basically un-reformed member of Shishio's ten idiots," Saitou declared, in a way that let Kenshin know how stupid he seemed for even asking. "Chou may be employed by my department, but I have someone much better than him. Actually, that's how I found out about the little girl today. My informant was there when it happened."
The fragments of the torn leaf twitched on the ground as Kenshin fought to control a wave of anger. "Then you're aware that syndicate members were forcing children to kill each other, and you had an agent present who did nothing to stop it?" Kenshin demanded, finally meeting Saitou's eyes.
"hoh," Saitou smirked approvingly. "It does help a little when you growl that way, when you talk. And anyway, since you're having so much trouble figuring it out, you should know that my 'agent' is less than ten years old. He's the perfect squalid orphan to infiltrate a group that collects and employs such children for their various operations."
Kenshin's eyes widened as he realized it. "Orphan... do you mean Eiji? That boy?"
"From Shingetsu village, yes," Saitou said, sounding almost proud.
Kenshin's mouth fell open in shock. "You made him spy on the yakuza for you? Is there any limit to what you'll use people to do?!"
Now the little bits of leaf jumped and sputtered against the ground like droplets of water sizzling on a hot pan. Their motion was enough to catch Saitou's attention, and he watched, delighted, as they skittered across the yard.
"Hmm...this is a good energy from you," Saitou mused, drinking it in. "Eiji's other report might have been wrong. Maybe you aren't losing your abilities after all. In fact, if I didn't know better, I might actually think that perhaps I should reconsider your offer of a rematch."
"Just how did Eiji find out about...?" Kenshin asked, sweating slightly but managing to calm down.
"Simple. Children never shut their mouths. Your spiky-haired brat blabbed it to some girl at the Akabeko, who blabbed it to a student at the Maekawa dojo, who blabbed it to Eiji." Saitou's eyes narrowed to deadly slits. "So. Is it true?"
Kenshin looked down. "Megumi-dono says I have four or five years left," he confessed.
Saitou's expression lost some of its smirk. Unexpectedly, he sat down on the top step, the same step Kenshin was sitting on. The steps were quite wide, so he was far outside of the zone where any sort of comrade would sit, but it still seemed like a gesture of solidarity. He reached into the jacket of his uniform and fished out his pack of cigarettes, and for a split second of insanity, Kenshin actually thought his old nemesis might offer him one.
Instead, Saitou lit a cigarette and smoked for a minute, utterly inscrutable to Kenshin's mild attempt at guessing what he was thinking.
"You should know," Saitou said after a pensive moment. "I didn't make Eiji do anything. He came up with the idea of infiltrating the yakuza all on his own. It seems that someone inspired him to be like his elder brother, who, as you recall, was one of my undercover officers." He paused to take a drag from the cigarette perched on his lip. "Eiji has done an admirable job so far as an informant. He has good ears—and remarkable drive and dedication. He pours his heart into his work, following his brother's footsteps—and his hero's advice."
Smoke rose into the night, and Kenshin stared out into the dark.
"Eiji was collecting information today," Saitou continued, "when the Shuei-gumi decided they had too many mouths to feed. Some lowlife thug known as 'hitokiri Gasuke' volunteered to kill off three or four of the kids himself, apparently because he hates children, but then he decided it would be better if the children killed each other. That way, they could see if any of the boys were proficient with a blade and willing to kill; potential candidates for indoctrination into their so-called 'hit squad'. Feh."
Saitou made a face as if his cigarette had gone sour. "When they determined the children were too 'cowardly' to kill one another, they selected the least valuable child, and then ordered one of their more reliable lads to dispatch her. Eiji wanted to interfere—he says he thought of lighting the wall on fire, to cause a distraction-but before he had a chance to do anything the wretched kid stabbed the girl. In the stomach."
Saitou paused and smoked.
"The story matches," Kenshin said. "You aren't after the boy, are you?"
"After him?" Saitou echoed, incredulous. He shook his head. "And if I were, you've just told me that he's here, or at least that you've spoken with him." The corner of his mouth quirked. "Imagine. One interrogation of you, back then, and we would have known where all you Choshu rebels were hiding. But the past is passed, isn't it? And of course I'm not pursuing the boy in this case. He's irrelevant now. I smell blood here, but not death. The girl's still alive, isn't she?"
Kenshin nodded, trying not to be annoyed that Saitou considered him such an easy source of info.
"Good." The old wolf sighed through a cloud of smoke. "With this latest incident today, I intend to put away the Shuei-gumi's ringleaders for a very long time. Execution is a possibility as well, for some of them. But there are quite a few associates of theirs who might slip through the cracks. Unless..."
Kenshin glanced at him. "Unless?"
"Unless you'd like to use your hiten-mitsurugi ryu for what it's actually for, while you still can." Saitou smiled.
"You and I could put them down." He flicked the butt of his cigarette to the dirt, stepped on it, and pulverized it with a quick twist of his foot. Then he stood, and stretched his left arm across his chest. "It would have to be off the record, of course."
Kenshin frowned. The prospect of doing another government mission in the shadows was unappealing, to say the least.
"Just think it over," Saitou prompted, sounding perfectly confident that he already knew what the answer would be.
"I won't help you massacre them," Kenshin warned.
"...You... won't?" Saitou shot back, piling significant emphasis on both words.
Kenshin grimaced, the implications clear. His old nemesis suspected, or already knew...
"Hah," Saitou chuckled. "Don't fool yourself. I recognized that sword of yours the second I laid eyes on it. Not so backwards anymore, is it? I don't care where you came from, how you pulled this off. But it is good to see you again. Himura." His eyes gleamed. "Battousai."
Kenshin slumped a little, head lowered.
"I'll stop by the Kamiya dojo tomorrow night," Saitou told him. "Now, I'd like to check on the victim." He looked up towards the clinic. "Doctor?"
Megumi slid back the door. "Yes?" she asked coolly.
"Mind if I visit your patient? Just for a moment."
Megumi frowned at him, but decided not to refuse. She led him through the clinic to the little girl's bedside.
"I see," Saitou said, as Megumi lifted the sheet to show the child's bandaged abdomen. "Were the organs punctured at all?"
"Fortunately, no," Megumi confirmed. "And blood loss was minimized when she went into shock. Both her temperature and pulse are good for now."
Saitou nodded. "She'll survive," he predicted, and then his face actually softened. "Poor girl. She looks like a perfectly normal child. To think of the cretins that would call this little one 'ugly'..."
Megumi blinked a few times, not sure what to make of that comment.
Saitou cleared his throat. "In any case, if she has nowhere to go, I have no doubt my wife will want to look after this one too. Not that I'm trying to run an orphanage." He scrunched his eyes shut and tipped his cap to Megumi. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be on my way."
Megumi watched for a moment after the police inspector left the gate, her arms crossed over her chest. She had heard every word of his talk with Kenshin, but wasn't sure what to make of it. Certainly Kenshin would want to clean out the Shuei yakuza now—but Saitou's involvement seemed dangerous. His connection to Kenshin's past might tempt Battousai into killing. Not that the legendary hitokiri would need much encouraging, according to his own statements. He only needed a mission, a target—and Saitou was offering that to him, gift-wrapped in justice.
Once she was sure Saitou was down the street and gone, Megumi sighed and went to check on her other patient, the little boy. As she'd expected, he'd eaten every grain of rice and had fallen asleep on the tatami, the empty bowl still in his hand. He'd washed the grime from his face with the cloth she'd given to Kenshin earlier, but the rest of him was filthy. He would need to be scrubbed from head to toe—but that could wait until morning. Megumi found a spare blanket and draped it over the boy where he lay, blew out the lamp, and closed the shoji.
Kenshin was still sitting out on the steps, lost in thought. After a while he pulled the sword from his belt and held it, sheathed, across his knees, staring at it abstractly.
Use your hiten-mitsurugi ryu for what it's actually for. Saitou's words echoed in his head. And Kenshin remembered what it was for, remembered the first time he'd seen it, cutting bandits into chunks of meat. Protecting the innocent? Rescuing people from suffering? An ancient style that allowed one to defeat many... a style so powerful, it could overturn a nation. And it would die with him, its last practitioner.
One more time, he thought to himself. Once more, I could...
to be continued!