Well, this past week threw me a curveball. I had planned on putting this chapter out mid-week, then one of my relatives died so I ended up traveling home for the week and got absolutely nothing done. However, I did get to spend some quality time with my family, many of whom I only see once a year, so that was fun.
On another note, yes, this chapter is considerably shorter than the previous ones, I'm sorry! Nothing to do with my week, that's just how it is. I'm not satisfied with how it turned out, but hopefully it will still be enjoyable. I welcome any suggestions with reccomendations for improvement. That goes for any chapter, actually.
Kenshin was shivering when he awoke the next morning, even though when he looked down he saw that two blankets covered him. In spite of the chills that shook him his back felt as if it were radiating heat. Kenshin didn't try to solve the paradox, just hugged the blankets tighter to his aching body and clamped his mouth firmly shut in an effort to still his chattering teeth.
There. He just needed a little self control.
Kenshin looked surreptitiously towards the futon where Hiko slept, hoping his shishou hadn't heard his shivering. His heart skipped a beat when he saw that the mattress was no longer lying on the floor but already folded in a corner. Did shishou and Naosuke-sama already leave? Kenshin's stomach twisted at the thought and the panic that flooded him temporarily drowned out the dull throb emanating from his back and arm. He sat up, body tense, senses on edge. When the murmur of voices reached his ears he acted without thinking, throwing his left hand towards the sword he'd laid beside his futon the night before. Common sense caught up with him and he realized it was only his master and Naosuke talking.
Kenshin took several deep breaths, trying to calm his body that was shaking as much from adrenaline now as anything else. Once his heart began beating at a normal pace again he got to his feet, still shivering. The room spun unexpectedly and he held a hand out as he almost lost his balance. His equilibrium took its time returning, and almost five minutes passed before he felt he could walk without falling over. Keeping one of the blankets wrapped tightly around him and clenching his muscles in a fruitless effort to still his shivering Kenshin shuffled into the main room where the voices were coming from. His master and Naosuke were sitting at the handai, a saucer in front of each of them and a saké jug on the floor nearby.
"Ohayou, shishou, Naosuke-sama." Kenshin greeted the two men, pleased that he had managed to speak without his teeth clacking together. He was met by stares. Naosuke looked as if he were about to utter a greeting of his own but then forgot what he wanted to say, and to Kenshin's amazement his shishou actually appeared−startled? He wasn't quite sure, as he'd never seen Hiko startled before.
"What is it?" Kenshin asked, a sense of unease coming over him as he glanced at their expressions. Hiko stood abruptly and covered the distance to Kenshin in two steps, reaching out and grabbing the blanket from his deshi's hands while laying a hand against his forehead. "Shishou, I'm cold!" Kenshin protested, wondering why even his shishou would be so cruel as to take his blanket away.
"Of course you're cold, idiot, your body's burning with fever!" Hiko snapped, throwing the blanket to the floor. Kenshin followed its path, eyes widening as he saw patches of discoloration on the dark cloth.
"Shishou, am I-" Rough hands on his good shoulder spun him around, and Kenshin fell silent, closing his eyes as the room started to move in a circle. He felt the gauze on his back being unwound, and even though the faint release of pressure hurt, the cool air that met his inflamed skin was a relief.
"Kuso!"
Kenshin's eyes popped open at his master's curse. He took in the used gauze lying around his feet and choked back a dry heave when the foul-smelling fluids that soaked the bandages reached his nose. If smell was anything to go by this couldn't be good. "Shishou, is something wrong?" Kenshin heard a soft clank and tried to turn his head and see what his master was doing. A heavy hand on the top of his head stopped him.
"Your back is infected." Hiko said tersely. "I'm putting more salve on it and then I'll rebandage it, so prepare yourself."
Kenshin did as he was told but his back felt as if it had been resting in an oven and the coolness of the ointment was as much a shock to it as physical contact. He knew he must have passed out because the next thing he remembered was opening his eyes.
Kenshin propped himself on an elbow, watching the room spin lazy circles in front of his eyes. He could still feel heat coming in waves from his back and somewhere far away he could hear his shishou muttering darkly. "Should have what, shishou?" He asked groggily, only catching bits and pieces of whatever his master was saying. Kenshin immediately found himself pulled to a sitting position and something was shoved into his hand.
"Drink. Now."
He obeyed without thought, only half aware that his shishou and Naosuke were talking.
"Hiko-san, I don't know what to say-" Naosuke's voice was the first to register, and Kenshin noticed that instead of his usual regal attire he was dressed in the plain gray clothes of a castle guard, a wide-brimmed hat conveniently shading his features.
"Then say nothing." Hiko bit out. He turned away from Kenshin and Naosuke, growling as he lifted a fisted hand and let it fall against the wall heavily. Kenshin watched curiously. He hadn't seen his master like this before and he couldn't quite comprehend his actions.
Hiko stood like that for a long moment, then turned his head and said calmly, "We should be going to Honmaru's." He nodded towards the handai, and Kenshin saw a plateful of onigiri resting alongside several pieces of grilled fish. "Kenshin, eat something before we leave."
He didn't have much of an appetite, but Kenshin nodded and moved to pick up one of the still steaming rice balls. "Shishou," He paused before putting the food in his mouth. "Are you going to kill Jisaemon?" He knew well enough that his master believed that to be a swordsman meant to learn the art of killing. Still, the only time Kenshin had ever seen him act on that was when Hiko had killed the bandits attacking the slave caravan. And Kenshin hadn't really seen that. It had been dark, and even if his eyes hadn't been mostly covered by Sakura and Ksaumi's hands he would have hardly noticed any more deaths for the shock that had gripped him.
"Yes." Hiko's face was hard and unflinching when he answered.
The reply prompted a whole other set of questions to go spinning through his head and Kenshin wanted badly to ask them. Was his shishou killing Jisaemon because he had tried to force him into performing the assassination? Or did he feel bound by the principles of Hiten Mitsurugi to defend Naosuke? The possibility that this was pure revenge lay dormant at the back of Kenshin's mind. His shishou wouldn't possibly kill Jisaemon for his sake. Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu did not condone killing for the sake of revenge.
"If Naosuke-san is killed, there is no doubt Japan will be thrown into a revolution that it is desperately teetering on the edge of now." Kenshin blinked as he heard the answer to his unspoken questions. It was uncanny, how his shishou seemed to read his mind like that. "Many more innocent people will die, and as the 13th master of Hiten Mitsurugi, I cannot allow that."
Kenshin nodded. As he'd thought, his master's motives were completely in line with their school's principles. Satisfied, he popped the rice ball into his mouth. Naosuke's serving girl was a fantastic cook. "Sh'shou," Kenshin mumbled around the delicious treat, "can I take the rest of these with me?"
"I'm not carrying them." Hiko responded. "Now let's go."
Naosuke led the way, Hiko striding along with a dark expression on his face, Kenshin trailing behind and trying not to drop the onigiri. Naosuke stopped outside a small house, knocking as he called and announced himself. The shoji slid open to reveal a burly man whose scar-lined face gave him the appearance of a seasoned fighter.
"Honmaru-kun, this is Hiko Seijuurou and his student, Kenshin-kun." Naosuke introduced them to the weathered man who had bowed low when he saw the tairou standing outside. "They're guests of mine. I need you to let Kenshin-kun stay here for the day. He'll stay out of your way. With all my recent undertakings, my house seems a dangerous place to be right now. "
Honmaru didn't bat an eye, merely nodded in understanding. "Pleased to meet both of you. You're lucky you came when you did, I'm getting ready to leave for a shift at the castle. Come in though." The house was significantly smaller than Naosuke's, with only a large front room and a partition that led to a tiny bedroom. In fact, it reminded Kenshin of Hiko's hut.
"You look like you've had a rough time," Honmaru commented to Kenshin, beckoning the trio to follow him behind the partition. "Kenshin-kun can stay in the room back here. There's a futon in the corner if you want to rest." Honmaru turned to Naosuke and Hiko. "I'll be gone until evening though."
"As long as he can stay here it's fine." Naosuke said. "We should be back before then ourselves."
Honmaru shrugged. "Make yourself comfortable then." He said to Kenshin before turning back to the tairou and bowing deeply. "Naosuke-sama, please excuse my rudeness but I must go." He came up for air and gave a shorter bow to Hiko. "A pleasure, Hiko-san."
Hiko deigned to nod as Honmaru left them, and when he heard the slide of the door as the man exited the house he rounded on his student. "Kenshin,"
Kenshin heard the gravity in his voice, and he blinked hard to make his vision center itself. The short walk to Honmaru's house had been embarrassingly draining. "Hai, shishou?"
"While we're gone, you're to stay inside. Sit, do not lie down. Don't close your eyes, even for a moment. Spread your senses out as much as you can without exhausting yourself but keep your ki to yourself. And never," Hiko's voice was fierce, "let go of your sword."
Kenshin swallowed. He didn't think he'd ever heard his shishou speak this seriously before. His ki was pulsing as Kenshin had only felt it a handful of times, one of those being when he had slain the bandits that would have killed Shinta. "Hai, shishou." Kenshin wasn't scared. Not of what might happen at least. He was scared of letting his master down again, of falling short of the Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu teachings.
"Good. " Hiko nodded.
"Kenshin-kun," Naosuke spoke, looking uncomfortable in his new decidedly un-tairou-esque garb, "Some of my men are on the premises, so pay no mind if you sense them. They're just going about their chores." Kenshin noticed the faint presence of the men even as Naosuke mentioned them, and he nodded his understanding. "You're a brave boy," Naosuke continued. "Don't let your master tell you otherwise." Kenshin caught the twinkle in his eye, knew he'd said that just to piss shishou off.
"Cheh, bravery and mere survival are two very different things," Hiko replied dismissively. Naosuke made a face as he spoke and Kenshin choked back a laugh.
"Did you want to say something, deshi?" The glare Hiko threw his way lacked true ire so Kenshin just smiled in return as he popped one of the rice balls into his mouth.
"Nothing, shishou." He threw a grin at Hiko, his onigiri-stuffed cheeks giving him a striking resemblance to a chipmunk.
Hiko spent a moment observing him, hiding his concern behind a glare. Kenshin had taken a turn for the worse overnight, there was no doubt about that, but the boy's spirit wasn't lacking. He'll be fine, Hiko thought confidently. After all, he wasn't going to be gone long. He gave the battle with Jisaemon less than ten minutes −and that was only because Hiko wanted the scum to feel his death coming.
"The kago is here, Hiko-san," Naosuke was at the door, straw hat pulled low over his face. "I'm ready if you are."
Hiko pulled his eyes from where Kenshin was now sitting obediently, sword in hand. "Ah. Let's go."
Naosuke waited for Hiko to stride past him, then walked onto the porch himself and glanced to his left, letting his eyes rove wistfully over his house. He could see the smooth, polished floors in his mind's eye and imagined he could even catch the faint scent of cedar. He breathed deeply as he drug his gaze away, then paused and looked once more, whispering, "Ittekimasu." It was time to prevent a revolution.
The new spring growth silenced the footfalls traipsing through the forest at the castle's outskirts, making the muffled clink of mail the loudest sound. Birds and squirrels had gone silent as the interlopers passed through their domain, keeping a safe distance high in the trees and watching warily.
A score of men walked by purposefully, the bright cloth that decorated their armor leaving a gash of color that contrasted strikingly with the soft shades of green draping the forest. Despite the slightly shabby state of some of the men's clothes, their manner of dress advertised them as samurai; many of them wore helmets sporting demon-like horns affixed to the top, and all had daishou at their waist. Only one was dressed in a less garish fashion, wearing a pale grey uniform accompanied with a straw hat and wearing a single sword at his side.
The top of the tall pagoda that rested within the castle walls was visible between the trees now and the man in the lead stopped, holding a hand up. He took in the relative quiet of the castle grounds, saw the four guards standing resolutely at the southern gate. As he studied the scene, the rest of the men clustered behind him, talking softly among themselves. He let them talk for a minute, looking into the distance. A black blur was inching its way towards the castle.
"Samurai of Mito," Jisaemon's voice was soft but authoritative, and he turned to face the seventeen men behind him. "Take in the site before you. Here is where you will have your retribution." He turned to continue watching the black line. It had moved close enough so that it was now visibly a train of men. Jisaemon gave a ghost of a smile.
"I'm ready, Seijuurou."
Hiko sneezed. He'd better not be coming down with a damned cold. Wouldn't that just be the highlight of this miserable trip. Maybe he was just reacting to some strange smell in the kago. Hiko had decided ten steps into the trip that kago were not made for men like him. The quarters were cramped, and the cloth that kept out the sun also kept the transport warm and stuffy. The castle was still at least a half mile away and already Hiko was sweating. He would much rather be walking, giving his legs a good stretch. It would warm him up for what was to come. Hiko smirked as he imagined that Naosuke must be feeling just as miserable, if not more so. The tairou had looked uncomfortable enough just wearing a straw hat. That soft bureaucrat probably hadn't done much walking in recent years, if his girth was anything to go by.
Well, it would be over soon enough and Hiko would never have to suffer being carried around like a cripple again. He suppressed the urge to shove one of the kago's curtains aside and see where they were. It would hardly do if someone caught a glimpse of him. Hiko Seijuurou was quite obviously not the tairou, even to an uninformed observer. Besides, he didn't need to see where they were. His ki would alert him to any imminent attack.
Hiko settled for resting a hand on the hilt of his sword. That baka deshi of his better be doing the same thing back at Honmaru's house. If Hiko found him asleep when he got back he was in for a verbal thrashing. He was in for a lot of things at this point so Hiko supposed he would have to carefully mete punishment out.
Glaring at a sudden jolt that shook the kago−one of the men must have tripped−Hiko shut all thoughts of his deshi from his mind. He needed to focus on Jisaemon now, and end this ridiculous situation.
Just stay awake, baka.
Kenshin jerked awake with a start, heart pounding. He could have sworn he'd heard his shishou's voice reprimanding him.
"Shimatta." Had he really fallen asleep? After he'd promised shishou that he wouldn't. Determined not to let it happen again, he pressed a finger into his right shoulder, wincing at the pain but relieved that it dragged his body more firmly awake. Satisfied, he gripped his sword tighter and listened to the comforting lull of voices coming from outside. Deciding that was probably what had made him fall asleep in the first place, he turned his attention elsewhere. He really was alone in the house and there wasn't much he could do to occupy himself.
Kenshin sighed and raised his eyes to the ceiling. He wondered what his shishou and Naosuke were doing. Were they already fighting? Was Jisaemon already dead? It was maddening, not knowing what was going on. He shouldn't really be worrying about it though, his shishou had everything under control. Kenshin should concentrate on what he'd been told to do. And that was to sit here, hold his sword, and pay attention to his surroundings.
So he waited, and listened.
Vocab: A handai is a Japanese table, but it has very short legs so people can sit on the floor and eat. And yes, you caught me, I threw in an occasional "hai" and "ah." I couldn't help it!
The stage is set! *drumroll* It's really a mediocre chapter but hey, I needed a setup for the showdown. Any guesses as to what's going to happen?
Thanks to all my reviewers! Your comments and input are much appreciated!
ZukoFlame: There goes my quick update award. :) I thought the whole medicine scene was pretty funny myself but I guess I'm a little prejudiced. Glad you enjoyed it! As for Jisaemon's plan, well, he already knows Hiko's got it in for him, why not go for broke, right? On another note, I don't know if I mentioned this in my review, but your RHS update pretty much made my weekend.
LavenderStorm: Arigatou! *heh* Hiko's all about the hidden concern. Can't have people thinking he cares too much.
Althea M: Hiko might be a tough master but he's at least conscious of what Kenshin's capable of. *sigh* I think I'm just gonna never post the last chapter so the story doesn't end. How evil would that be? :)
one-who-loves-sesshy: I try to reply to everyone's review. And I do appreciate that you're enjoying the story but my updates are as quick as I can make them. Unfortunately, I have a job that steals priority of my time. Maybe I should just quit . . .
t42n24t: Maybe Jisaemon should get an award and a slap? And no doctors were harmed in the making of the last chapter. Pushed around maybe but no real harm. Glad you liked the Kenshin-gets-Hiko's-sword-back scene!