21
Mercy

Kenshin's torn memory couldn't provide him with a similar moment when he had been so dismayed.

Saito spoke, but his words only partly made sense, the rest lost somewhere beyond the pounding of his heart. Saito spoke again, this time with a trace of annoyance. But this time his words made even less sense.

Kenshin tried to find calm, tried to think. Where was Sano? How did Saito get here? Did he want to fight?

Kenshin didn't think he could fight. This was a painful thought that hurt and shamed and angered him all at once, but he really didn't think he could duel Saito now. He didn't even have a sword—

Daisuke turned at the trunk to look at him, but at the same time, Saito stepped forward. Kenshin was not able to handle it as his attention was drawn into two places at once. His thoughts spun out of control, and he took a step back, desperately scrambling for something to say or a course of action.

The lantern Saito held cast light over his face, but left its up-creeping shadows in the slanted lines of his face, drawn together in high annoyance. The effect was…ghastly.

And all thought deserted Kenshin.

"You left him with Saito?"

"I didn't leave him with anybody but this old couple! I ran into that squinty-eyed bastard, and he went back the direction I came looking for Kenshin. What did you want me to do?"

"You should have stayed with him!"

"And what, have all of us keep wandering around this God-forsaken labyrinth looking for each other for the rest of our lives?"

"If you've lost him—" Kaoru warned, her voice hoarse.

"I'm not lost!" Sano growled. He held Yahiko as still as he could as they raced through the tunnels, dodging fallen debris. At least, he didn't think he was lost. There had only been one turn, but he had been disconcerted by Saito Hajime's appearance, delayed moments longer than he wanted by trying to convince him to wait or come along instead of heading off down the passage to see Kenshin for himself.

It wasn't so much that Sano didn't feel like fighting anymore. In fact, he almost wanted to see more of those bull-heads to relieve a little more stress. But he didn't want to bring a lot of screaming and yelling and arguing right up to Kenshin, who was sort of…fragile…just now.

He opened his mouth tell Kaoru this, but then there was another voice calling through the air. Sano froze, and Misao crashed into his back.

"Sano! SANO! SAAAANO!"

Misao was the first to find her voice. "Himura!"

Kaoru burst into a sprint, already several strides past Sano before he could move. But then he was beside her, careful to support Yahiko's head close to his body as the tunnel narrowed. "I'm coming!" he shouted, hoping the words would reach Kenshin.

A sea of waving grass, tall enough to brush against his belly. Blood dripping from the tall, wide stalks, and he tried to back away from it, but there was always more.

He almost tripped over a body lying in the grass. He moved away from it, quivering with the resounding knowledge that, though he had no memory of doing so, he had slain the man.

Only in backing away, he tripped over another body and fell, sprawling hard on his back. A soft cry escaped him as he scrambled away, his back coming up against the withered husk of an old dead tree. He had killed this one too…

I didn't want to. I didn't want to kill them.

But if I didn't want to, why did I?

Wind blew in his face. He closed his eyes against it.

Why did I not forget this?

That would be mercy, wouldn't it? And that which I could never show, was that which I don't receive.

…

It would be wrong. To forget.

…Yes.

There was sunlight all around, but it didn't touch him. It was around him, but he was cut off from it. He hesitated, and then he tried to move out of the shade, longing to stand in the sun again.

A wolf appeared over the rock, standing up smoothly through the grass, fanged grin, teeth glinting at him mockingly.

Stop hurting me. I can't fight.

He glared back at the beast, and past it, to the man within it. He bared his own teeth, growing angry before he realized it.

Not now! I can't fight you! Damn it! Damn you! STOP HURTING ME!

The beast bowed slightly with surprise when he suddenly launched himself at it, knocking it onto its back and falling on top of it. The struggle was strange—it didn't feel like an animal under his hands. In fact, it seemed there were other hands he couldn't quite see grappling back with him, and no teeth went for his flesh.

Another thought jarred his awareness, the wrongness of the situation, and there was a blow to his stomach that took his breath and sent him crashing back into something hard and unyielding. His left arm gave a hard throb, pain beginning at the unhealed break and spreading out through the impaled palm like a bolt of lightning in his veins. He cried out, choosing this moment to remember a colorful curse he'd heard Sanosuke say recently, and cradled the limb to his chest.

He shut his eyes tightly. At some point, when he wasn't looking…no, he still hadn't looked. But he still knew, knew that the wolf had become Saito. And yet was still the wolf. It made sense and it didn't make sense, and he understood and didn't understand at the same time.

The creature breathed harshly, like steel sliding from a sheath. There was an all-too-human shouting, and the scent of tobacco, still very near.

The hand hurt, and it felt warm and wet. He pressed his good hand against it.

There was a burst of movement in front of him so violent that his eyes fluttered open. He cried out in surprise as the cadaver that had been lying in the grass latched onto his wrists.

Caught against the tree, he couldn't move away. The bark felt cold and hard like stone as he twisted to the side.

Someone was talking, yelling, but he couldn't see the speaker and he didn't understand the words. It was suddenly very dark. One blink and there was still the sunshine he remembered, and the next there were deeps shadows at war with weak firelight.

I…I'll protect you, Kenshin, I swear…I swear…

"Sano?" he whispered, still trying to get away from the hands that held him.

Y…y-you will p-protect me, Sano?

You're damn right I will. I don't know what all they did to you—but they won't be doing it again.

"Sano! SANO! SAAAANO!"

He nearly sobbed as the left arm made an alarming popping sound brought on by his own jerking. His throat burned. Was he screaming? More talking. Fast talking. He still couldn't understand. The sun was gone; somebody had taken it from him again. Maybe the sun was never real. Maybe just a long, nice dream, like the feel of grass and the scent of summer. Like children's laughter. Like the wide-open roads he had walked alone for years and years.

The weight was off him, very suddenly. Almost as if it had just been waiting for him to go still. Maybe it was, and the thought bothered him, and he didn't understand why.

Then there were other hands on him. Much smaller, softer hands. They were hesitant, gentle, unthreatening. A quivering voice speaking, but he still couldn't hold onto the words. He flinched when light was shone in his eyes, and it was quickly taken away when the nice voice snapped out something harsh.

He was lifted a little, head and shoulders supported on a lap. So familiar, the way the little hands were brushing the air away from his face. Somebody different tried to touch his left hand but he jerked away, pressed a little closer to the one who was being gentle.

The moment he turned toward the gentle one, he was being hugged, rocked, cradled. With arms that shook. Words were spoken, but he still couldn't concentrate.

A soft, warm mouth touched his forehead. Such a good scent. So very familiar.

Familiar…like…

He finally opened his eyes, gazed up blearily at the soft one who comforted him. Kaoru…

Oh, a Kaoru dream. Yes, such nice dreams. He loved to have them. This was his mercy that he had thought was denied him. She always came when he was closest to becoming lost. She always led him back.

He started to close his eyes again and let himself drift, but there was a little stab into his peace. Something was wrong.

Perhaps it was the smell of salt. He blinked slowly up at her face, saw tears there. It wasn't unusual for her to cry when he dreamed of her, but…

There were bruises all over her face. Large ones, small ones. Her bottom lip was split in two places. A little layer of sweat was just under her hairline. A little rivulet of blood was drying on the side of her face.

Very slowly, he reached up and touched her face. It was warm and soft, but there were skinned places, little cuts…a little bleeding… Lots of dirt and smudges.

He frowned in concentration. This was so odd. What did this mean?

She spoke again, but this time slowly, so he was able to follow. She murmured soothingly. Smiled shakily. Tears on her eyelashes.

Kenshin let his forefinger drift to the tiny cuts on her lower lip. The rim drew up a little with pain at his touch, and he realized—

She was real!

He was stricken. He was relieved. Distressed. Ecstatic. He wished he was dead. He was so glad he had survived. He was afraid to speak to her. He had so much he wanted to say.

His hand still hovered just at her mouth. Both trembled, his hand and her mouth.

"Pl…ease. Please. D-don't…don't go, don't go," he pleaded longingly, still afraid she may yet turn out not to be real. She spoke again, but he wasn't even trying to listen now. He grabbed her, pulled her close to him with his good arm. Don't go. Please don't go. Be here when I open my eyes. Don't go, don't go.

Her hands moved up and down his back, stroked his hair. And she didn't fade away, she didn't fade…

"What the hell were you doing to him?"

Sanosuke wasn't quite in Saito's face since, however furious he was, he still knew better than that. Misao, her sad gaze on Kenshin and Kaoru, stood a little behind him, next to Aoshi. The ground near the wall had been hastily cleared to place Yahiko. At least, then, everyone was in one place now.

Saito didn't even look at them, just stared at Kenshin, still being held and rocked by Kaoru. "He just attacked me. Like some kind of a wild animal." He rubbed his jaw, absently. Kenshin must have gotten in a good hit or two. "What has been done to him?"

"What are you doing here?" Sano shot back. "How did you find this place?" But he was toned down from how he had been when they'd first run up on the scene of the oldsters and Saito trying—and failing—to restrain Kenshin, who was kicking, screaming, shouting mindlessly, hurting himself. Maybe he should have stayed after all…

"I asked my question first," Saito said evenly.

It was Aoshi who decided to answer, or maybe he simply didn't want to hear any more needless arguing. He reached into his coat, and Sano heard the musical jingling of the Shortsifter being drawn out.

Misao felt a little like a child who had lost interest in what the "adults" were talking about as she moved away from the three men and sat down by Yahiko. She wasn't listening as Aoshi was explaining what they knew about the Mindsifter. He'd move on to the Penna cousins and the minotaurs as proof of what the terrible thing could do. She didn't care to review it; she'd seen enough already.

She glanced at Kenshin and Kaoru one last time. The redhead looked so frail, all starved and half-naked, messed-up hand oozing blood down his wrist. Sanosuke had already tried to look at it, but Kenshin didn't seem to know anyone but Kaoru at the moment. He had to be cold, shivering as the two of them clung to each other. They had shut everything and everyone out, in a world where only the two of them existed.

She thought about the look on Saito's face when he'd asked, "What has been done to him?" Was that possibly an emotion that didn't involve derision? It didn't pay to look too much into it, since it was nothing she could put a name to, but she wondered exactly what she would call her own emotions if she came to find that her rival, adversary, respected enemy, and sometime-ally was thus, gravely wounded in body, mind, and spirit…

Would it be so different than the way she felt, seeing what had been done to a very dear friend? And for no reason at all…

She checked on Yahiko, relieved to see the boy breathing well. He'd probably wake up soon. She turned away from him and held her throbbing head in her hands, feeling every last ache brought on by the cave-in and deep, deep fatigue. What time was it, anyway? It had been a long, long time since she last slept.

Maybe, just for a little while… Best to rest while she could. They still had to find a way out. She hoped it wasn't far.