Disclaimer: I do not own any of the official Rurouni Kenshin/Samurai X characters. I do reserve the rights to all OCs
Changes in Friendship
Chapter Thirteen
"I won't do it."
Katsura Kogoro stared ahead at the young man sitting before him. He had never rejected any of his orders before yet he found himself to be only slightly surprised.
"And why not?" he asked, the smallest bit of mocking in his voice, "You've never disobeyed me before."
"I never questioned your judgement." came the redhead's curt reply.
Katsura was amused by this. Himura Kenshin, more commonly known to their enemies as Battousai, was still just a child. Defiance was bound to come up sooner or later.
"But you question me now?"
"I kill for justice, yet you are sitting here and asking me to take the life of an innocent woman."
Katsura rubbed his chin. "Can you be so sure she is an innocent?"
"Perhaps not," replied Battousai, "but before your request I had only heard her name in passing gossip. I have faith that she is no threat to us."
Faith. What an interesting term.
"Then perhaps you'd know that she currently resides in Okita's bed."
Battousai stood abruptly and a dark shadow came over his face. Katsura watched with interest. He had angered him.
"The type of man a woman takes as a lover can not classify her as a criminal."
To this, Katsura smiled. "But wouldn't you say that a woman who lives to ease the pain of a sinner bears his burdens and becomes a sinner herself?"
Battousai's eyes flashed amber. "No. I wouldn't."
"Very well," replied his leader calmly.
"Furthermore," the assassin continued, "to use a woman against a man whose weakness you cannot find is a move of cowardice. I pray that is not your motive, Katsura-san."
There were not many men who dared go against his will or give him any sort of reprimanding, and Himura generally was no exception. He was loyal and he kept to himself. Had he been anyone else, the leader might not have paid much attention to him.
The more Katsura found he couldn't quite figure him out, the more he wanted to. The boy was the strongest killer they had-their trump card-but he was still just a boy. There was an innocence about him, even in his cold and aloof nature. Katsura wondered if he had ever felt the love of a woman.
Himura left the room and when Katsura stood, walking towards the deck, he stared outside into the bright day. He hated days like these. The sun shone so brightly, and the birds flitted about, yet the air was frigid. It was such a tease.
Iizuka sidled up next to him, having overheard the entire exchange, and let out a low whistle.
"Himura turned you down?"
Katsura didn't even bother to act surprised. "I know of another man to use," he said plainly.
"I have no doubt that you do," the examiner replied, giving a little chuckle. "You always seem to know a guy."
There was silence for a few moments and Iizuka wondered, as he often did, what exactly his leader was thinking. He had never met a man more difficult to read, never met a man more vague, cryptic, and guarded.
Though the stress of bad news weighed on his shoulders, he never faltered or showed any signs of weariness. If something bothered him, he dismissed it lightly, and when things went awry, he would sigh and shake his head.
But what was he thinking?
"Do you really plan to provoke them like that?"
Katsura turned his attention towards Iizuka, still half lost in his decided disappointment towards the day's weather.
"I beg your pardon?"
"Okita," Iizuka clarified. "He's a sleeping wolf right now and not one that I'd be too keen on waking."
"None of the wolves are sleeping, Iizuka," Katsura mused.
Vague.
"Still," Iizuka pressed, "Isn't it easier to let them think they're 'keeping the peace' than to give them a legitimate reason to come after us?"
Katsura looked up at the sky. "I try to convince myself that the decision I have made is for good reason: an impressive, if yet underhanded trick," he paused, shaking his head and sighing, "but in the end, my motives are entirely self serving."
Cryptic.
"Sir?"
"My battle is not with the Shinsengumi this time," he said, "more specifically, despite what you and Himura were no doubt thinking, my battle is not with Okita."
Iizuka made an impatient gesture with his hands.
"My battle is with her."
The examiner let out a snort of laughter. "And what great injustice has this fallen member of society inflicted upon you?"
Katsura stared straight ahead, displaying no hint of emotion, no sign that he was even slightly morally at odds with himself over this.
"Ah, that is the cruelty of it all."
Guarded.
xxxx
Saitou and Shousha sat on a bench on the side of the road. There was a noticeable gap between their bodies and Shousha's knees were pointed ever so slightly away from his own. Tokio had requested they make a stop to pick up gifts for her family while Okita had taken the opportunity to refill his prescription under the cover that several of his men had been suffering from headaches.
Saitou had not wanted to be pestered by Tokio's 'do you think they would like this?' and 'what would you choose?' so he had decided to sit this one out. Shousha had stubbed her toe earlier that morning and was grateful for the opportunity to stop walking for a bit. This had left the two of them in a rather uncomfortable situation.
Shousha shifted slightly, scooting a couple centimetres away from the man and he turned to look down at her.
"Do you hate me so much that you can't sit next to me for a few minutes?" he asked bitterly.
"I'm afraid of you," she corrected. She didn't mind admitting to it; it was common knowledge.
He smirked at this, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. "Would you like to know what I fear?" he asked, taking a long drag and exhaling silently, "to level the playing field, one might say."
She crossed her arms. "No."
He flicked some ash onto the sleeve of her gold and ivory kimono. "That's too bad. Here I was being kind and you're still going to act like a child."
Shousha scowled at him. She did not understand how Tokio could stand being around such a condescending man. Still, he had spoke of fearing something. Surely she could use it against him at some point, right?
"You're curious."
"I am not," she huffed, shoving his hand away as he again made a move to use her as his personal ashtray.
"It's written all over your face, you stupid girl," he said, taking pleasure in watching a vein appear on her forehead. It was far too easy to get her riled up.
"Fine," she snapped, crossing her arms again. "Tell me."
"Ask nicely," he ordered mildly, taking another drag.
Frustration growing, Shousha gripped the silk on her knees and squeezed. Hard. If she didn't give him a good slap just once, she might explode. Really, just one. She didn't though, because her fear at what he might do to her in return was so terrifying it almost overshadowed her anger.
"What," she ground out, "Do you fear, Saitou?"
He looked at her, amused, and though he had the good grace to turn his head before blowing out the smoke, he turned back to her, his smile as slick and sly as ever.
"Nothing at all."
Bastard, she thought.
He saw the irritation on her face and he dropped the cigarette, ending its life with his foot.
"In all seriousness, Shousha, I have something to ask you."
Her face wavered slightly, but she kept her arms crossed and her body on edge. "What on earth would give you a reason to hold a conversation with me?"
"I would like to know what to expect today," he replied simply. "What type of family does Tokio come from?"
It was such an honest question, Shousha was left feeling slightly off balance. There was no mockery in his voice, no slick undertones, no bared teeth. She could use this. She would use this.
Taking the opportunity to re-shift her position, she faced him, staring up at him directly for the first time since meeting him.
"After the way you treat me you honestly expect me to help you?" she asked, giving a small scoff.
"The way I treat you?" he echoed in question
"You are not nice to me."
Saitou let out a short bark of laughter. "I am not a nice man."
This was very true, Shousha noted. He wasn't a nice man. She suddenly noticed that he had not picked her out in particular. He had not decided to hate her (even if he did); it was just his way. He may have harbored slightly more distaste for her because of her parents, and possibly a small amount of jealousy due to her closeness to Okita, but she could have been anyone.
Deciding that she wouldn't be able to have a one up on him unless she replied, she smiled sweetly at him.
"Tokio's father is a very traditional man, so you will do well to mind your manners in his house."
Saitou considered this for a moment. Traditional, huh? That seemed simple enough. He had been raised on harsh manners himself, though some might consider the outcome to be debatable, and he was confident that he would be able to make it through these next few hours with little worry.
Not that he was worried.
When the group was assembled at the door of Tokio's house (though shack might have been more appropriate) a neighbor waved to Tokio, calling out to her.
"You go on ahead," she said, nudging Saitou and Okita into the house while she and Shousha stepped a couple feet over to chat with the young woman who was hanging out her laundry.
The two men stepped into the entryway, not having time to knock as Tokio pushed them and before them, barefoot on the cold dirt floor, was a young girl who couldn't have been a day over eight. Her eyes widened and the small tray that she was holding on her hands clattered to the ground.
"Mitsu!" came the cry of a man, seated under a blanket in the middle of the room, "get behind me!"
The girl did as she was told, hiding behind the man and burying her face in his back. A makeshift crutch lay on the floor and the man grabbed it, brandishing at the figures in his doorway.
"What do you want?" he demanded, doing his best to hide the fear in his voice, "We have nothing here for you. Let us be!"
Okita and Saitou looked at each other for a moment, confused, but the man pulled a small pouch of money from beneath the blanket and threw it at their feet.
"Is that what you want, wolves?" he snarled, "Take it!"
Luckily for them, at that moment, Tokio squeezed her way between their bodies, launching herself into the house. Shousha was right behind her, mimicking her excited entrance.
"Papa!" Tokio cried, throwing her arms around the man. Shousha also joined in this display of affection. Both Saitou and Okita raised their brows in surprise. Her father? The man there didn't look yet forty and they were both aware that Tokio had an elder brother.
"Tokio, Shousha. Get behind me. There are dangerous men here. You shouldn't have come."
But the girls only laughed at him.
"Dangerous?" Shousha asked, pulling Okita forward and mushing his face with her hands, "Does he look dangerous to you?"
His expression softened then and he regarded Okita with relief. "So it's you."
Okita smiled, looking around for an indication of how he was to respond. Shousha was nodding to Tokio's father and laced her fingers with his, confirming that Okita was indeed 'him.'
The man on the floor smiled genuinely. "You found him at last. I am glad."
Okita bowed. "Takagi-san."
But Tokio's father frowned then. "While I am pleased to finally meet the infamous 'Ta-chan', I find myself disappointed."
Okita looked up. "Sir?"
"You're. . .so small."
To this, the captain forced out a smile. "It is very advantageous, Takagi-san," he said carefully, trying not to allow any annoyance to show. "I am very agile."
But Takagi had already moved on. He motioned to Saitou. "You. What's your story?"
Saitou stepped forward, kneeling before him and bowed so low that Okita began to feel uncomfortable. What business did Saitou have humbling himself before this pauper?
Shousha snickered.
"Are you mocking me, son?" Takagi's crutch came down hard on the back of Saitou's head, but he barely flinched. "Get up or get out of my house! I will not be made a fool in front of my children."
Saitou raised his head and as he caught a glimpse of Shousha doubled over in silent laughter, he felt his temperature rise. He had been played.
He cleared his throat. "My apologies."
Tokio brushed the curious act aside and took his elbow. "Father. May I present to you Saitou Hajime, the man responsible for my freedom."
Takagi rubbed his chin. So this was the man he was indebted to. He wasn't much to look at: too sharp featured and mean looking, but he had for whatever reason decided that his daughter deserved to live a life above that of a servant.
Motioning for his younger daughter to fetch them tea, he gestured for Saitou to sit, and he inhaled deeply.
"Are you hear to collect my gratitude?" he asked curiously.
"Of sorts," Saitou replied.
Mitsu arrived with the tea set, old, cracked, and barely holding up against the late autumn chill. She smiled politely, setting it down and while Tokio moved to pour, Mitsu presented Shousha with what looked to be the remains of a stuffed doll.
"I won't grovel before you," Takagi said plainly, as he accepted his tea from his eldest daughter. "No one asked you to fund us."
"I don't expect you to."
"Then what do you want?"
Saitou looked at him directly. "I desire you daughter, Takagi."
Pretending to find this amusing, the older man smiled, raising his eyes to the wolf. "And what are your intentions, Saitou-san?"
Saitou flicked his gaze over to the corner of the pathetic house where Shousha and Okita sat, playing with the little girl. He watched as they laughed with her, sneaking gentle touches and playful glances at each other.
Love. Happiness. It came so naturally for them, as if the world knew from the moment they were born that the should be together. Life wasn't making it easy for them, but somehow they seemed to overcome every obstacle with their heads bowed together in a secret plan of escape.
He felt a small pang of jealousy over that. He wasn't even sure if he made Tokio happy. He knew he could drive her wild, but that was nothing more than a physical reaction to his touch. Would she be happy tied to him? He wanted to make her happy, but he suddenly realized he didn't know how.
He glanced over at her with her arms crossed and her head held high, defiantly challenging him to answer her father's question. He saw the fire in her eyes, but he also saw fear. What was she afraid of? Lies? Deceit? Or was she thinking exactly what had his head at odds with his heart?
Was she afraid of him?
"I intend to make her mine," Saitou finally replied. "In any way I see fit." In every way.
Tokio's expression didn't change, but that was almost expected. She knew this. He threatened her with it every day.
"It is an interesting proposal," Takagi said slowly, "unorthodox and crude, but you have the upper hand on me, I'm afraid. I have no choice but to give you my blessing."
Tokio's eyes widened. So that's why he had been acting strangely. His threat of marriage had not been a joke, but his true desire. As always, he had been rough in his affection and she had failed to see through it. Still, he had come with her to her family's house, not out of obligation, but for his own personal reasoning. He might refer to her as his plaything, but now she knew that he was serious. This wasn't a game any longer.
Shousha's mouth had dropped open in shock. The beast had won. He held her beautiful friend in his clutches for life. Surely she would refuse. She would. She had to.
She didn't.
"Okita-san, might I have a word in private?"
Okita nodded as Takagi stood, using his crutch as support, and when the blanket fell away, Okita's breath caught. Tokio's father noticed this and motioning to what was left of his right leg, he chuckled.
"Don't worry about this, kid. It was a fair trade. My leg for my wife. No complaints, no regrets."
Okita wasn't sure if he was joking or not and though he was tempted to inquire about said trade, he instead opted for following the hobbling Takagi into a small room tucked away off the side of the house.
"I'm going to be honest with you, Okita-san, because I like to consider myself an honest man these days."
Okita nodded for him to continue.
"I don't like what you're doing," he said, jabbing a finger at the boy's chest. "My family has met nothing but suffering because of this damned government. Now let me say that I am grateful for what you're friend there is doing for us, for Tokio, but I'm telling you right now that I will never support you."
Okita didn't know what to say, but he didn't have to, as Takagi carried on.
"I'm an excellent judge of character. I know that Tokio will be happy, and I can tell just by your eyes that our little Shousha is your world."
"She is," said the captain quietly.
"But I also know that you're a liar."
Okita stood, dumbfounded. No one had ever spoken to him in such a way and no one dared question his integrity. They didn't have to.
"A liar, sir?"
Takagi shifted his weight, leaning up against the wall. "You can't fool me, boy. You're a good kid, but you've got something dark going on inside you, so you look me in the eye right now and you answer me honest or I swear I'll kill you right here."
It was an empty threat and they both knew it, but Okita was compelled to do as he said. It was clear that Shousha held a special place in the heart of this family and as Tokio held a special place in his heart, he wasn't about to let them down.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Your secret," Takagi started, staring down at him, "if Shousha were to know it, would it bring her harm? Would it bring my daughter harm?"
Okita let out his breath and chuckled lightly. "Oh, no, not at all. My secret is simply a matter of pride." he turned his palms up, examining his calloused hands, weathered by his years of training.
"I can't bear for anyone to see me as weak or incapable. How could I inspire the hearts of men who take pity on me? How can I honestly vow to protect a woman when I am the one who needs protecting?"
It was more than he had wanted to say, but the thoughts were always there, taunting him and pulling on his soul. They whispered doubt and unease and they begged to be released. Someone had to know. Someone who couldn't be affected. Someone he would most likely never see again.
"I see," Takagi replied, "You're dying."
Okita turned his face away from the man. He had never felt so much like a child as he did now: a child who had finally admitted his wrongdoing to a gentle, yet disapproving father.
His resolve kept him strong and he swallowed. "Yes. I am dying."
Takagi smiled gently at him and laid his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Keep your secret, Okita-san. Live your days for her."
He nodded then. "I always have."
When he returned to his friends, he was visibly shaken. Tokio chastised her father for scaring him, but Okita only smiled, noting that it was long past time to go. They said their goodbyes and on the street, Shousha reached for his hand. As their skin connected, he felt the weight of his guilt.
Yes. I am dying.
He had come to terms with it long ago, but he suddenly wanted to go back in time and instead of fighting for his country, fight for his life. Maybe if he had concentrated on his health, he might have been able to be healed and he could be the dashing prince she imagined him to be. Noble. Strong.
Healthy.
When she looked over at him, she said something he didn't hear, and smiled encouragingly. How could she be so happy? He was leaving her again, without a word as before, but this time he was never going to come back. What sort of man was that? What kind of protection would be be offering her?
None. Nothing. That was what he had to offer. He knew it. She knew it.
He looked ahead of him at Saitou and Tokio who were exchanging bitter words and several series of shoves. They were an interesting pair, but he was happy for them. Saitou deserved happiness and Tokio deserved a life away from the slums and the crooked politicians.
And Shousha, she deserved-
"Ta-chan?"
Shousha's face before his broke him of his thoughts and he smiled, tightening his hold on her hand.
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"It's your birthday tomorrow. Is there anything you would like?"
His birthday. Right. He had survived another year.
"I have everything I could ever want," he said truthfully, swinging their joined hands out in front of them as he often did when they were children "unless you know of a way to put an end to this fighting."
Shousha looked up at him brightly, "I don't, but at the very least tonight I can give you a reprieve."
"A reprieve?"
"A party," she said excitedly. "A party so fun that if we all died tomorrow, we wouldn't even care."
Okita's smile faded. If? Or when?
xxxx
Author's Note: Ah! I'm finally back on track to the original. I wish I could apologize for all the angst, but it's probably only going to get worse.
On a different note, Katsura! Iizuka! I have no idea why I love them so much, but I'm excited that they're finally worming their way into this story. For all you Battousai fans, I have a little bit more screen time planned for him too, as well as (haha) someone unexpected.
Thanks for reading; see you soon