A/N ...err *takes deep breath* OH MY GOD YOU GUYS ARE THE MOST AWESOMEST PEOPLE OUT THERE! 100 reviews! I didn't believe it. Took me about two days of staring at the same screen to believe it. And when I did, I had to go curl up into a tiny ball for leaving you guys hanging for so long.
I am sorry. This was by far the hardest chapter to write. Mostly because...well you'll see why at the end. I am making this up as I go along and trying to fit everything into a set idea and organization when everything seems to be made up of puzzle pieces from HELL is tricky. And the RESEARCH *cries* wars and fighting and timelines *cries hysterically* it makes NO SENSE; unless you threaten it to death with a large stick of course. Throw in assignments, work and the horrible thing known as family, it's like juggling knives without the cool factor. But to be fair... there are just three chapters left (including an epilogue) so it shouldn't take me half as long. I thank you all for being so patient with me. And to all of you wonderful people out there who banged your head repeatedly against your keyboard while waiting for an update...here is my giant bandaid of headache-be-gone, along with tons of love!
A big loving pile of thank you goes to: miniwoo, Pinay, stela, pinkspider, paige_morgan, 9frugal and blueangel-maggie.
Special notes to:
JMai: You have no idea how much hearing that from you means to me. Thank you so much. This chapter is dedicated to you. When writing got tricky and hard and I really wanted to give it the boot, I came back and had a read of the lovely review you gave me and I threw my butt back on the saddle. You have been with me from the beginning, and I am so madly, insanely, happy that you still like it. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Alpha T Sigma.: Thank you for being so honest. I am most comfortable writing in first person but I agree that it's sometimes really hard to get into, especially if the main character is off the wall loco-bananas. I am very pleased that you stuck with TIOU and enjoyed it as much as you did. And as for the lack of sleep...let's just say it goes both ways. It's now 6 am and I haven't had a wink of sleep because I NEEDED to finish this up tonight. Don't be disappointed in your writing. God knows I'm never happy with mine. But that's why we write fanfiction yes? For the love of the game, so to speak. And ultimately, there is no way, short of massive head trauma, that anyone's writing can get worse, only place to go is up. Chin up babe. I'm sure you rock something chronic. I'll have to stalk your work as soon as I get over my strange insomnia and have it confirmed
Disclaimer: dudud lalala mumumu...oh wait...I'm supposed to say something right...err always support causes that embarrass your parents. That way they won't dare to forget your birthday XD (insomnia does not a sane person make)!...oh..and RK is not mine...drat it!
The insanity of us
Chapter 11: The knife cuts both ways
Sunset changed the roads of Tokyo into human rivers. Shops lit up, fishermen docked and the government workers all but sprinted away from the heart of the city. After nearly forty years of living in this city, today was the one time in my life that I was not bumped into, pushed aside or shoved. None of the other members of our little morbid crew were bumped into either. Any other day, I would have been shouting for joy.
One generation away from war, survival instinct was still thick in every eye that watched us. They parted like knife cut fruit, unwilling to be near a group with such a dangerous air. I was glad. Attention was exactly what we needed. A great deal of the evenings plot hinged on the fact that the police would take an interest in us and investigate our destination...and by extension this disgusting mess I seemed to have landed into.
No policeman in the world could realistically fill Saito's carefully cultivated shoes of sword work and paranoia. But his current replacement, trained by the grasshopper himself, was a close match. Torao Kane was no swordsman, but was more than a match to his mentor when it came to aggravation and suspicion. If there was something fishy going on, he would send more than a few policemen down here to investigate. I noted that both Lee and Aoshi did nothing to hide the live steel they carried. Steel that is nowadays strictly illegal. Smart men. We made no secret our destination as well; clearly marching along the most direct, and populated path towards the docks.
If all else fails, Kane-san would at least have five highly suspicious bodies and a trail that would nail this Tamaki bastard eventually. I could trust him to be tenacious like that. Worst case scenario, that is.
Our pace was brisk, slightly less than a jog – slightly more than a walk. It is only by mercy of my continued training that I could comfortably keep up; though the slight over-pant of my breath reminded me that I was no longer a teenager. I don't have youth to heal me. Younger men have died of less than an accidental stab. I was going in for a full blown battle, with ninjas thrown in for fun.
From the corner of my eye the four grim spectres shadowed our steps. I looked away. Thinking about them made me feel ill. And the giant boulders in my stomach didn't need any more company. They reminded me, that in all likelihood, things wouldn't go well. They wouldn't go well in four very gory ways.
I gritted my teeth. If anyone would fall, they would have to go though me first. I had full reservation of one of these ghosts, and I fully intended to be the first.
A small niggling voice in my head whispered to me of my promise to Enishi. I squashed it under a violent swing from by mental bokken. I made a promise to Aoshi too. And Take couldn't be left to hang either. Someone was going to have to give Kenji the bad news, and it was going to be him. I suddenly wished, not for the first time, that I was graced with the legendary talent of the Battousai. He would have been able to do it.
I was not so sure I could.
"Hey sensei, you don't think we should have changed out of our uniforms before we got out here do you? I mean all this stalking around with derange serial killer look-alikes, can't be good for the dojo's reputation, you know?" Take mused, not even slightly winded. I wanted to kick him.
I snorted. "What difference does it make? How many bokken wielding women do you know? I think the whole town knows me by sight, in uniform or not."
Take ruffled his hair. "I guess you're right. But this means when Manami-chan hears about this, she is going to be upset, she is going to cry, and I will have to kick the ass of the idiot who told her." Take looked up from his feet towards me. "Would it be ok if I came late to class one if these days sensei, I feel my services will be needed elsewhere."
I laughed then, giving Take what he was so obviously fishing for. "Take, if you get yourself out of this unharmed, I will personally trade with you all your morning classes, so you can spend your dawn's assuring Manami that you are whole, alive and still able to marry her. Heck, i'll drag the both of you to the temple myself, willing father or not!"
Take grinned. "It's a deal!"
Misao snorted, "It will probably be one of those weddings where the dagger will be used to keep the father out of the wedding as opposed to keeping the groom in."
I arched a brow at Misao, "Been to many of them?"
She smirked. "My fair share. My own wedding was nearly one of them, probably more likely that the groom would have been stabbed, beheaded and un-manned, if Jiya got his way."
From the corner of my eye I could see Aoshi's figure tense. His lips pressed thinly together and his bangs coming even future forward to shield his eyes. Guilt.
"Well", I added lightly, "If all things don't go to plan, you can take up what Jiya didn't."
"I plan to." Her smirk could have put fear in the dead.
I smiled. At least someone was going to go home satisfied. Call me an optimist, but I was putting the bets on Misao.
The docks, in reality were a thin stretch of river that had a deeper base than its opposing side. Long distance vessels wouldn't be able to make it up here, but smaller trade ships, mostly for domestic travel could. For this late in the evening the docks were dead empty. Fishermen should have been at their boats preparing for a night out fishing to bring in the first produce at dawn. Their absence was highly suspicious.
My eyes ran from what was usually a sky filled white sails only to see empty masts and rope. As Take said, most of the sails had been damaged and were wisely removed. You don't hang up a ripped sail unless you had a burning need for useless strips of cloth in the near future, even I knew that.
Only one ship had unharmed sails. About average sized, the government seal proudly flapping in the breeze from its mast. Homely looking and slightly battered, it was a thoroughly undignified location for a fight to the death. The paint at its side proclaimed it to be Chokichi Maru.
Good fortune my butt.
"We are not alone." Misao whispered, palming the hilt of a slightly longer blade at her hip without slowing down.
I looked around, wide eyed. I could see nothing. There were a bunch of trees, shadowed by the setting sun on one side, and the river on the other. Not many conventional places to hide. But I was no ninja.
Lee had his sword wrapped casually under his arm. The hilt was facing forward for easy access, but other than that he looked calm. If it wasn't for the low, jerky, rumble from his throat I would have thought he was the coolest man on earth. Second to Aoshi, of course, who was an absolute winter deluge of calm snow beside the Chinse man.
I must have looked like a nervous wreck compared to these guys.
Aoshi slowed down, coming in line with Take and myself. "When I give the signal, get as far away from the action as you can. The first wave will be violent. It will be ugly. It will be fast."
Take rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. "Could you guys BE more creepy? You could have just said, get away from the sharp pointy things fast .No...you have to do the whole looming thing! And the whispering thing...and the look-"
I calmly gave Take a firm smack behind his head. Not enough to damage him, just to shut him up. He talked when he was nervous, which was often. I knew exactly how much of effort to put in.
"Thank you Aoshi." I whispered, while ignoring the spectacularly strange faces that Take threw in my direction.
Aoshi nodded and then raised a brow at Take before swiftly returning to his usual pace at the head of the group. I waited only long enough for him to get out of earshot.
"Take, stop treating this like a game. Please. I know you're nervous. I'd rather you leave right now then see this. But you and I both know that you won't. So at the very least take this seriously. There are no rules here. There are no boundaries. If they hit you, you won't be getting up. So shut your mouth, and pay attention."
Take bit his lip. He looked so achingly boyish. "I know sensei. I won't fail you. " His soft brown eyes meeting mine with a steel in them I have never seen before. "But I need to fight, for me. For everything you have thought me. I need to protect my precious things."
I could feel the tears in the back of my throat, thick and violent, but I forced them down. Take was as much my son as Kenji is, as much as Yahiko was. I raised a palm as rested it lightly against Take's cheek, feeling the rough stubble even against my palm.
"Stupid boy." I smacked his cheek lightly, "Shave when you get home. You're beginning to look like a street tramp."
He smiled, the steel fading from his eyes, just a little. "Hai, sensei!"
We slip into silence then. Slowly, my nerves began to tingle with an alien awareness. I could have sworn that I could feel the weight of multiple eyes resting on my shoulders. I could feel the brush of hungry breaths against my neck. I tried my best to hide the shiver that sliced down my back. Foreboding only worked if you had the choice of walking away. Which was a choice I didn't have.
As we near the ship I noticed a carriage parked nearby. Inky black and without any distinguishing markings at all, it rang all kinds of bad bells in my brain. This was bad. Very bad.
And Enishi was nowhere to be seen.
Shit.
We stopped.
"That carriage...it's not good is it." Take whispered. Suddenly I was struck by how young the boy really was. He didn't have a vile plotting bone in his body. Not even enough to see a trap when he saw one.
From the fleeting shadows, figures began to appear; first a handful of them, then many, many more. They perched on the trees like crows. Ninjas. Hundreds of them: in the trees, by the boats, on the road behind us, around the carriage before us. We were surrounded.
And then Misao began to laugh.
It was a light airy thing, but poisonous, like a blow dart. As one the ninjas in my sight began to tense, some inching their hands defensively in a very special area of the human body. They knew that laugh the same way I did. These were likely Oniwabashu ninjas then. Only they could possibly know the evil laugh Misao can make right before her knee meets the soft, vulnerable, bits of a man along with a delicate blade (or broom) coyly cutting into his throat.
"I am glad you find this situation so humorous, Mikamichi. I assure you, the Government does not." The voice came from behind silent, dark carriage. Smoothly, with a well balanced grace he walked out, a thin book in his hand and a pair of delicate glasses perched on his nose. He looked as though he had spent a comfortable few hours reading casually in the sunlight.
He was not remarkably tall, after Enishi, few men could ever be. He was thin, wiry even. With precisely neat hair and a pale pinched face that, though not unpleasant, was not particularly handsome. The stench of slimy bureaucrat just reeked off him.
Misao's laugh ripped to a snarl. "Rot in hell Tamaki, you revolting waste of human flesh."
Tamaki smiled, revealing a set of perfectly white teeth. "Now, now my dear. That's no way to greet your intended."
Misao hissed and spat at the ground. "Over my dead fucking body!"
His smile ripped free from his face, peeling back to a blank, chilling gaze. "That, my dearest, can be arranged."
I could tell immediately, what ilk of human filth this Tamaki fell under. This was the kind of man who would willingly, and proudly, condemn millions to death simply by signing a sheet of paper. He supported any level of brutality so long as it met his ends. And he would feel no guilt for it later.
As if summoned, three men stepped out from the shadows behind the carriage. The ugly blue uniform gave them away as military officers. They also carried the deplorably shoddy, mass produced, sword at their waist. But it was the gleaming guns on their shoulders that worried me.
Aoshi pulled out one of his sword. The glide of metal rang sharp in the air. Tamaki's gaze fell on the taller man with a dull disregard.
"There's no need for that Shinimori-san. You are out armed and outnumbered. I do not want to fight you. It serves no purpose." Tamaki absently pushed up his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose with his free hand.
Aoshi did not so much as twitch but for some strange reason I had the impression that he was vaguely amused.
"What are a thousand ants to a stick of dynamite?" Misao asked, darkly cheerful. "You scraped the bottom of the barrel for the youngest, most half assed bunch; unfit to even call themselves the Oniwabashu. These guys can't throw a kunai straight to save their lives! Come off your stupid horse Tamaki, numbers mean nothing when there is no backbone to go with it." Misao turned and shot a look towards the trees, smirk and all. Some of the bodies shuffled uncomfortably.
"Pitiful." She hissed between grinning teeth.
Tamaki coolly eyed the shadowed figures, now beginning to fidget. "All it takes I one shot Mikamichi-san. And as it were, I seem to be the one here backed by most of the artillery."
Misao snarled, curling her fingers smoothly tugging out one of the kunai strapped at her waist. "But this isn't about them is it Tamaki. You could have a thousand of our ninjas, and it still wouldn't be what you want. Isn't it?" Misao leaned back and let off an eerie lopsided smirk. You don't give a shit if all of these bastard weasels die slow horrible deaths." Between heartbeats, Misao casually grasped the kunai in her hand and flung it straight towards one of the figures perched on a lower brunch.
It tried to move away, but wasn't quick enough.
The pointed blade sank straight through its throat and pinned it against the tree like a gurgling grotesque butterfly. Black gloved hands clawed briefly at the steel in its flesh, touching the metal disbelievingly before flailing to get free from its hold, but the combination of shock and slick blood made it impossible. The figure's desperate jerks slowed down and then stopped dead in seconds. The scent of blood hissed in the air, but only lightly. A drizzle of rain preceding a monsoon.
The other figures seemed to glide away from what was once one of them; jumping from branch to branch in a futter of nervous energy. It might only have been my perception, but there seemed to be nearly...a few less of them, perhaps slightly less than a hundred now.
Misao's eyes were hard as ice, and just as cold. "You want me. So stop pissing around about it."
I felt ill. This was not Mis- I halted the thought where it stood. Whoever Misao was years ago, it is not who she is now. And between the child and the warrior, the warrior was the only one of any use. Even if the coolness of her random execution rattled me. Beside me Take hissed either a curse or a prayer under his breath.
Tamaki merely, raised an eyebrow. He didn't even bother to look at the body.
"That was entirely unnecessary. This is the exact reason why you are no longer fit to control such a rich resource." Tamaki straightened his back, the gleam of fanaticism entering his eye. I know that gleam. It never came with anyone sane.
"You with your archaic ways, your backwater mindset and your silly traditions, it is remarkable you haven't been killed off before. It is like a decrepit dog guarding a gold mine. The future of Japan has no place for those unwilling to change with the times."
His words only seemed to rile Misao up future. "Japan does not need to go to war to prove its greatness! I will not let my men be cannon fodder for such a pointless waste of lives! Nothing great can come from such blind desire for power! The Oniwabashu were created to protect Japan and her king, not feed this hunger for power you seem to think she needs!"
"That is exactly the mindset of the mediocre! The future is larger than Japan! We have steam machines, and weapons and troops! Japan shall expand!" Tamaki raised a slim finger and pointed it directly at Misao. "And you are the agent that shall help me be immortalised in it!"
Lee hissed, and shifted himself between Misao and Tamaki in a single step. He barred his teeth in a beastly display. His sword sang angrily as it was tugged out sharply from it sheathe.
Misao pulled tugged out another kunai, absolutely livid. "I'd see you dead and rotting first Tamaki. I'd do it myself."
There was a second where Tamaki's eyes blazed the fire of angry insanity. It was as chilling as the pale blue of Enishi's gaze when he inched towards madness.
"I have attempted to be polite so far, but if you insist on being difficult I'll just make this simpler for you." Tamaki gave a half wave with his left hand. As a unit all three of the officers raised their rifles. The air became thick with the soft hiss of hundreds of kunai unsheathing.
"Mikamichi, come with me and your people live. Don't and they die. Your choice."
I noted that he used 'your people' not 'all of you'. Misao was clearly too important to whatever plot the slime bag had to be killed right now. That was an advantage.
"Come with you and they'll live?" Misao said incredulously, "You'll forgive me if I don't trust you. You arn't exactly the Godly beacon of honesty and truth."
Tamaki smirked, the fading sunlight finally killing the glare of his glasses and letting me see the pair of perfectly calculating brown eyes behind them. " Ah, but Mikamichi-san. I need you alive and willing; which you would not be, if your friends were...damaged, yes?" He sounded perfectly reasonable, which meant he was lying.
"Kiss my ass Tamaki. You could kill a million people, and I still wouldn't give you the code. The country doesn't need insane assholes like you, with power."
"Ah yes, the codes for those mysterious agents of yours." Tamaki tugged up the book in his hand and began to read off it.
"Korea, China, England, the Americas, Singapore, Hong Kong, Naval officers, Military officers, political aids..." Tamaki looked up from the paper, "Your list of undercover agents is by far the most impressive one of any organisation we have seen." He paused, carefully shutting the thin leather journal and slipping it into the inner pocket of his brown jacket.
Misao's eyes widened. Aoshi hissed something that could have very possibly been a curse. Not good. If he got such details as the agent's location and role, they were already dangerously compromised.
"More than your life is at stake Mikamichi. There is much to be gained for me by selling this information. And should these agents of yours be discovered...well I hear that the westerners have methods of torture beyond our wildest imaginings." Tamaki's eyes flashed with a twisted sort of delight. Power was everything to him. No matter how he got it.
Aoshi suddenly jerked upward, as though struck by a sudden idea. "Tell me Tamaki. Do your superiors know you delusions of power?"
Tamaki hissed then, his pale cheeks gaining two points of sharp colour. "They are no matter! It is time for fresh blood to rule. The old ways are dead!"
Aoshi smirked then. His lip curled in a sharp slash that was an ill reflection of his real smile. "Then you are not really allowed to be here. You have no backing other than you own. How comforting."
Tamaki seemed to pale.
Aoshi tensed, lifting his sword ,"Then be prepared to die."
Suddenly there was a blast. It threw dirt and ash into the sky. Bits of trees and earth flew up into the air and it was only by years of conditioning that I was able to grab a hold of Take and throw him to the ground. I dragged his body towards the marginal shelter of the ship that was meant to be our escape, with a hand that was shaking with a mixture of fear and excitement. By the blessing of Kami alone my bokken remained in my hand. Take stared out at the wild blasts. He had never met gunpowder before. Its distinctive smell curled on my tongue like ash. As we hid tightly against the wood of the ship's bow, bits of wood, dirt and squelching flesh rained down around us.
"Sorry we're late. But the government is truly not as efficient as it used to be." For the very pit of my soul, the voice hit a note that made every inch of my skin tingle. Torn between fear and a strange hunger, I peeked my head over the edge of the ship's bow to have a look at the aftermath of the explosion.
Enishi stood tall and broad against the cloud of dust and fiery light of the setting sun. His eyes were such a dark shade of blue, that they seemed an inky black against the last embers of sunlight. The streak of trees that sheltered the numerous ninjas were nothing but large splinters in the ground. The earth around those stumps seemingly torn up in slices...almost as though it were laced with gunpowder.
Brat. So that was his mission. Lacing the ground with gunpowder while in the thick of his comrades. Brilliant actually. Desperate too. But brilliant.
"Kaoru!" Enishi called out. His eyes and shoulders tense as he tried to look though the hazy air for me. The girly part of me, that defied all sorts of maturity, fluttered away in appreciation. This was a battle; a war even. And this specimen of manhood was seeking out me, me in all my unladylike unattractiveness.
Slowly I stood up, waving my hand weakly in the air to get more of his notice. I had to cough for a moment after. The smoke filled air choking me.
He came to me immediately. Running around and sometimes over the black draped figures of the men scattered around, seemingly dazed. Enishi came up to me and grabbed a hold of my shoulders, torn between shaking me and throwing me into his arms.
"I'm fine. What happened? You were meant to be here!" I asked, sharply. My eyes catching the hard lines of his face and drawing the appropriate bad news from it.
Enishi shook his head. "It appears that the Japan had bigger fish to fry today than to pay attention to the demands of some Chinese underground tradesman. I managed to gather around some of my men, but I was afraid that I wouldn't make it in time." Enishi tugged me close, trapping me under his chin and in his arms. His heart was pounding a violent beat against my ear.
After a second of hearing that sound, I reluctantly pulled away. "We don't have time for this. We need to find Misao. If she falls into that bastards grasp, all of this would have been for nothing!"
Enishi tensed, as though to fight and I braced myself for battle in return. For a long second he looked at me, eyes black with fury and fear. Then suddenly as swift and as brief as a butterfly he dipped his head and presses hard lips against mine. There was nothing romantic in the kiss. It was hard and brutal and all the sweeter because in that moment he was as raw as I was.
He pulled away, meeting my gaze. "Take care and stay safe. If anything happens to you, I cannot be held accountable for my actions. Remember that."
I stared at him like some kind of idiot. Enishi just placed not only his heart but his sanity as well in my more than clumsy hands. The weight of it shook me to my core. But this was not the time or the place for such emotions. I nodded briefly, brushing my hand against his cheek. "Same to you, you proud stupid man."
He smirked once more, pausing briefly to press a chaste kiss to my head before melting away to the dust and violence of the crush of bodies beyond the shelter of the boats ample bow. Whoever Enishi brought with him, they were making a remarkable effort to create absolute insanity out of an already mad situation. From what little I could tell, the few ninjas that were still coherent and moving, were having a hell of a time dealing with the commoner clad men, who seemed more than a little rough around the edges.
Shaking off my confusion, I turned back to look at Take, and double check that he was ok. The boy's pupils were dilated to the extreme, but he was responsive. But one thing that I did notice was that his hand was empty of his trusted bokken. The idiot must have dropped it in the confusion of the explosion. It didn't take me a heartbeat to come to my decision. I kneeled down to Take's height and promptly gave him a hard smack to the face. In seconds the dazed look faded away from his eyes and Take was back in reality from his little shock induced mental holiday.
"Take! Take you with me? Say something, stupid!" I had to shout to be heard above the ringing in my ears and the groans of the injured, dead or dying around us. Take blinked a few times and then nodded.
"Ok. I want you to listen very carefully, ok?" He nodded again, mouth seemingly sealed shut with the lingering effects of shock. "Take, hold out your hand." Obediently, in a way he wasn't normally, Take held up his palm, eyes wide, but gaining more of the burning spark of Take's personality. Gracelessly, I placed my bokken into his hand and curled his fingers around the bamboo. "Hold this with your life, Your LIFE, do you hear me Take? "
"Yes sensei." His words were a little shaky, but it was better than nothing.
"You better survive this boy! I will not accept anything but survival, do you hear me?"
"YES sensei." He was still too dazed to fully understand what was going on, but he grasped enough of what I said to blindly trust my words.
"Now, you are going to be attacked by Kunai and by sword. Be prepared for it. Are you ready?"
Finally his eyes lit up with comprehension. It wasn't perfect, but it would do. "Yes Sensei! "
Immediately I fell to my knees, and peeked out from the edge of the wooden boat. So far we were hidden, but judging from the skirmish going on beyond the boat, that wouldn't last for long. First things first, I needed a weapon. Trying to be as calm as possible, I cast my eye over the prone bodies that littered the edge of the docks. Any sword shape wood would do really, I wasn't going to be picky right now.
When a sudden glint caught my eye, I was torn between curse and a prayer. It was a sword. One of the cheap reproductions that Tamaki's bodyguards carried with them. It was just a little ahead of us. About ten paces to the right. It was bokken shaped, which was really more than I could ask for at the moment. The way the boat was suddenly rocking I figured we had barely seconds of hiding left.
"Take!"
"Yes sensei?"
"I need you to follow me and block any Kunai thrown towards us until I get my swo-Bokken, do you understand me?" I changed my word mid sentence. Take was barely holding on to whatever reality he was in. Shocking him any future would do no one any good.
He nodded. His eyes still slightly glazed, but coherent. Good enough. "Ready? One two thre-" I was out like a shot and Take on my tail like a shadow. Even with the ringing in my ears, the sound of battle was horrifying. The groans of the fallen, the screech of metal against metal, the squelch of feet against dead flesh made my skin crawl. I tried to push aside all of those sensations to focus on the glint of metal that was my target. Focus. That was the only way to keep sane. Focus.
The smooth wooden handle was slick but light. It designed to sink into its sheathe and look like a single stretch of wood as opposed to a traditional katana. With a flick of my wrist I flipped the blade around, turning it into a serviceable sakabato. I was no killer. And I wasn't about to become one for the sake of some slime ball. Not a heartbeat after the switch did my instincts flair up and my sword arm flick upwards. The ping of metal against metal rang loud in my ears. The kunai aimed at me, dropped harmlessly to the wet ground. Kami bless small favours. Another streak of instinct, another shift of mental and the harmless drop of a kunai that should have hit my heart. This guy was being persistent.
I looked around sharply for the source of the kunai. There were no trees to hide in, but the mesh of bodies around me provided sufficient cover. Beside me I noted that Take had taken on a kunai bearing ninja in combat. He was holding his ground well and seemed to have his opponent on the defence.
Good.
With a smooth slither of instinct I twirled around and swung downwards in a broad arch, and just as my arch was nearing my hips, I twisted my waist and diverted sideways, hitting a dark clothed chest just inches from me. He had a gleaming kunai in his hand aimed directly at my throat. With another swift swing, I heard the bones in his chest give way under the metal in my hand. I couldn't see most of my opponent's face, but the patch of cloth over his mouth suddenly appeared damp, as though doused by blood. He hunched forward and then fell gracelessly to the bloody ground. He would live, but only if he didn't choose to join the battle again. As I walked by him, I kicked away the kunai in his grasp. No point leaving a weapon in the arms of a marksman.
My next opponent met me soon after. As did my next and the one after. It was a steady stream of black clad bodies just waiting for my harmless metal blade to fell. In the midst of this wash of bodies, I caught glimpses of the others. A spike of pale blond for Enishi. A streak of swift metal laced black for Misao. A veritable arch of blood around Lee. And smooth flashes of the silver streaked head of Aoshi. Take was a vengeful angel in the blood stained gi of his dojo uniform.
It should have been impossible to tell friend from foe in that stream of bodies. Except that fate had given us a merciful hand. Enishi's men were not dressed for battle. They were in Yukatas, and Kiminos, one dressed in nothing more than full bodied tattoos and the knotted cloth of his underwear. Our opponents were painfully formal. And that was their downfall.
Just as the tide of never ending black seemed to wane, and my sword hand free for just one second I felt the sharp spike of fear that preceded a supernatural presence. It tugged something in me, a puppet sting I didn't know I had.
I ran. The sting pulled, tugging incessantly. As I arrived in a slight clearing at the very edge of what was once Tamaki's carriage, horses long gone, I caught sight of several things all at once.
Aoshi stood proud with Katana in hand over the body of one of the many scattered ninja. What he couldn't see was the barrel of the gun pointed unerringly at his back by a pair of steady hands aimed by a pair of mad brown eyes.
Tamaki. Armed and aimed. Aoshi had no idea.
Behind the shaking figure, hovered the red tinted form of the sharp toothed Kenshin. Violence. Violence for Aoshi.
In my line of sight, Misao, wide eyed and seeing. She knew. She knew as I did what was t happen. She was too far away to stop it.
I was not.
As the vision struck me, another pull began. The sliver of my puppet sting began to tug again. I swiftly glanced to my left and as I looked, time began to slow.
Take. Trapped in the heat of battle against one figure. Proud and strong he was in mid swing, the arc perfect. A preparation for a defensive strike. A strike that would be pointless when the man in the battle beside him tripped over a cadaver's legs and pieced him right through his ribs from behind. The hazy figure of Sano swirled over him. Claws out and pointed. The tips were very nearly touching Take's throat.
Time grinds to a halt. The battle is still and silent. All bodies frozen in their last pose. From all corners of this field the terrible echo of deaths voice rang.
"Decide."
I blinked, confused by the sights and soundlessness of the air.
"Decide now. You don't have time."
"WHAT?" I shriek with a voice hoarse from battle cries.
"Decide which life to save. Which destiny you preserve. Decide."
I turned my gaze from Sano to Kenshin. Each looming and grim over two parts of my heart. "You want me to choose?"
Sano cocked his head, a vague motion though the fog that surrounds him. "You have ten heartbeats to choose."
"WHAT?"
"Nine"
"You are joking! You can't ask-you ca-"
"Eight"
My heart was clawing at my throat, burning a hole in my lungs. "you can't...I have no right to choose!"
"Seven"
Kenshin tilted his fanged head and blinked in the way of reptiles. "The decision is yours. Whether you choose to move or not-"
"Six"
"-it is your choice. A life must be taken. Two lives can be taken. The difference is your boon. Your blessing." He finished.
"Five"
Aoshi or Take or both even. Kami save me, but right then my mind was blank.
"Four"
Aoshi or Take. Aoshi or Take. Aoshi's death would kill Misao. Take's death would kill Manami-chan. Either way the decision would kill me.
"Three"
Oh Kami. This was no choice! This was no boon! But as doubts stabbed my mind, my body tensed, preparing for a sprint. I didn't know which way it wanted to go. Not yet.
"Two"
Aoshi Take, Aoshi Take, Aoshi Take. Kami, Kami please guide me. Please.
"One"
"Forgive me."
And as the booming return of sound stabbed my ears I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. As fast as I could bear. I had already cursed someone to die, that blood was in my hands. No matter what I did now, that was my sin to bear.
As I stabbed my sword forward putting all my excess speed, all my shaking fear into that one, life saving thrust, the loud shout of the unsaved life killed me. It killed me better than steel.
Take's eyes widened, the whites bright against the smudges of blood on his face. My sword sank deeper. Deeper than any wooden sword ever could. A sakabato did not have a sharp tip. A bokken did not have a sharp tip. A katana did. The squelch of flesh under the sharp blade was sickening, but I pushed forward. My blood slick hands finally let go. The sword stuck out of the body like another arm. He was one of ours. Kimono clad and tattooed. He was one of ours, who had to die because of an accident he was going to commit.
His brown, dirt stained face, haunts me to this day. My fist kill.
Seconds later a loud bang and a violent scream heralded my second one.
In sick, slow motion Aoshi tensed, his back arching. On his chest a bloom of red spluttered out, creeping down the still white shirt. He twirled around, to look at Tamaki, his shooter. His back was a cave of blood and bone, flesh torn away from the bullet. I wanted to look away. I wanted to be sick.
But I didn't.
I did this.
So I had to watch. I had to remember.
I don't know when I fell to my knees. The mix of blood and earth stained my hakama, touching my knees with its cold fingers. There might have been noise. I didn't hear it. All I could do was see.
Aoshi took a shaking step forward, and then another, before crumbling down to the ground. Misao caught him on the way down. Lee had a dagger at Tamaki's throat not a half-breath later. He was furious. His eyes were black with madness and anger and a pain nothing could touch. He didn't pull the gun away from Tamaki's hand.
He cut the hand straight off.
