"Howdy howdy howdy!" I think I actually have nothing to say here, except this quote that popped into my head. Enjoy the latest installment!
Lightning had been flashing in the sky for some time when Hiko came within sight of the tairou's residence. It was hardly past midday but rain-clogged thunderclouds had moved in quickly, prematurely darkening the afternoon sky. It was an appropriate atmosphere to enter what looked like a graveyard.
Hiko stepped into the courtyard amid peals of thunder, a brief flash of déjà vu grabbing hold of him as he saw the bodies that littered the ground. He moved slowly towards Naosuke's house, giving each of the bodies a cursory glance. All had fatal sword wounds. Some had died almost immediately; others, not so quickly. From the way a number of them had fallen close together, Hiko deduced that the men had fought in groups to try and hold off the attackers.
He supposed he shouldn't be surprised at the carnage. Jisaemon had said he'd sent men here. Apparently those men had decided to slaughter anyone they set eyes on. The small massacre would be a shock for anyone returning later that day.
With a shake of his head, Hiko put the scene behind him, stepping onto Naosuke's porch. The heavens let loose as soon as he'd walked through the open shoji, the sound of rain pelting the ground a welcome relief from the clang of swords that still echoed in his ears.
Kenshin's sword was painfully easy to find−he'd left it in the middle of the main room. There was no saiya though, so Hiko walked towards the bedrooms. He knew which one he should go to−there was a gaping hole in the one where he and Kenshin had stayed, and Hiko could see through the ripped paper what looked like a person sprawled on the floor.
Further inspection revealed not one but two people lying on the floor−corpses−and Kenshin's saiya almost on top of one of them. Hiko's eyebrows rose as he nudged a boot under the sheath and flipped it upwards, catching it with his free hand. These men had been killed by something considerably smaller than a sword. Hiko's eyes drifted over the bodies, caught the knife hilt embedded in one of the men's necks. It had been jabbed there firmly, not in a downward slash as a swordsman would have used.
Not a Hiten Mitsurugi maneuver.
That aside, he doubted that Kenshin had been the one to perform the deed. Even without injuries, a child who had never killed before, no matter how skilled, would find it psychologically taxing to dispatch two grown men. His deshi must have had help−and it was unlikely that help came from either of the men on the floor−but Hiko could sense no one else here.
"Interesting." Hiko murmured. Well, Kenshin could assuage his curiosity when he woke up. For the time being . . .
Hiko stuck Kenshin's saiya into his waistband, sheathing the sword while walking into the next room. Given the weather, it should be safe enough to stay here through the night. Nobody was going to come calling in this downpour, and it was better that Kenshin stay out of the elements. Hopefully there would be a little food in the kitchen to tide them over, too.
The adjoining room was much the same as the one Hiko had just left. There were two futon in a back corner, and a small tansu in the other. A paper lantern sat by the door, the rotund shadow that it cast with the lingering daylight mingling with Hiko's longer one.
Hiko laid out one of the futon and deposited Kenshin on it, then knelt back, hands on his knees. Even unconscious, his deshi's expression was pained, and sweat was trickling down his face. Hiko knew from the walk back that his fever was reaching dangerous heights. It needed to come down before he could focus on anything else.
Hiko went to rummage through the tansu, finding several sheets stored there amid thick winter haori and sleeping kimono. He ripped one of the sheets into long strips, then threw a speculative glance at the covered window in the room before rising and heading towards the kitchen. Two wooden buckets hung just inside the door, and Hiko grabbed both of them before heading for the porch. The rain was turning out to be very convenient; drawing water was an easy task in the deluge.
Holding the buckets out to fill, Hiko spared a glance towards the road. Only sheets of rain met his gaze, pelleting the ground with enough intensity to send droplets of mud splashing up. In the scant time it took the buckets to overflow, Hiko saw only one person, and they hurried past the tairou's quarters without a sideways glance, holding a bedraggled umbrella whose effectiveness was limited to aesthetic appeal.
Satisfied that the storm promised solitude, Hiko returned inside, setting the buckets by Kenshin's futon and throwing in the strips of cloth he'd torn. The rain on the roof beat a relaxing tattoo, and Hiko would have enjoyed it more if he didn't have a severely wounded deshi on his hands. Still, it was a nice atmosphere to work too, and thankfully Naosuke's house was well-kept enough that there were no leaks in the roof.
Hiko let the cloth soak for a moment before lifting it out, placing it on Kenshin's forehead after wringing out the excess water. There was a flicker of movement under Kenshin's closed eyelids but nothing more. Hiko tossed more of the cloth strips into the water and moved behind Kenshin, raising his upper body off the futon and pulling the gi down around his waist. It might not be a good idea to leave him shirtless all night, but his fever needed to go down, and the quickest way to do that was to cool his entire body.
Hiko placed the remaining strips of wet cloth along Kenshin's arms and stomach, eyes darkening when he saw the red-rimmed bruise that the saiya thrust had left. He ran a hand over the inflamed area, pausing when he encountered a slight protrusion. He had no doubt now that it had been the saiya, and not his kick, that had done more damage. It made him wish he hadn't been so efficient when killing the man who had taken his saiya.
Removing his hand, Hiko moved back to the tansu and picked up another sheet, ripping it the same as the first. Better to have extra rags on hand and be able to quickly exchange them than have to wait for the used ones to re-soak and cool.
As he was finishing tearing the second sheet, a pained groan slid from Kenshin. Hiko looked over, saw that Kenshin's chest was heaving, his fingers twitching sporadically. He kept watching to see if his deshi was waking. Kenshin's eyes did finally slide open, although Hiko was vaguely alarmed at their lackluster appearance. The usual brightness that lit them was missing and a dull plum color had replaced what was usually a curious mix of blue and violet. Hiko decided to test the waters.
"Kenshin?" The boy's head moved slightly in his direction, and then his eyes flew open and he jerked upright, features suddenly overwrought with scared confusion.
"Where am I?"
Hiko kept his voice calm. "Back at Naosuke's. Do you remember what happened?"
"Who are you?"
Was his fever that bad? Or was he just so disoriented that he didn't know what was what? Hiko walked towards him, letting Kenshin see his face. For a second, Kenshin's expression was positively wild, but then recognition washed over his features.
"Shishou?" His voice was shaking. "Is it over? Did you−did you−"
"You don't need to worry about Jisaemon." Hiko told him, bending to pick up the rags that had fallen to the ground when Kenshin had sat up. He stopped when he saw Kenshin's eyes fill with tears. "You can't be sad about this?" Hiko asked, completely baffled.
"N-no." Hiko waited a moment but Kenshin simply continued to cry without offering another explanation.
"Then what is it?" Hiko asked, fighting to keep frustration from overriding the calm in his voice.
"I'm s-sorry, shishou," Kenshin quavered, "I know a swordsman isn't supposed to cry," He scrubbed at his eyes ineffectually, "but my stomach really hurts, and my back hurts, and my throat hurts-" He broke off as a new wave of tears took him.
Hiko looked at the sobbing boy, wanting to show him the compassion that he needed. Too much, though, was just as bad as too little. It was a fine line to walk, and he had difficulty with it. He knew Kenshin was in agony though. He should say something, at least.
"There's no shame in crying, Kenshin." Hiko's voice had softened. "You could easily have died." He hadn't voiced it aloud yet, hadn't thought too much on the fact that he could be staring at his deshi's earthly shell at the moment, and the words almost caught in his throat. It wasn't something he wanted to think about it.
Kenshin's sobs began to subside, although tears still ran freely down his cheeks. Dropping the scattered makeshift compresses into one of the water buckets, Hiko lifted a fresh handful of dripping rags from the other one. He motioned at Kenshin. "Lie still now. Your fever needs to come down, you're almost delirious."
Kenshin settled himself tentatively, glanced up at Hiko. "I'm not cold anymore." He offered, face hopeful.
"Shivering is a good sign," Hiko replied, "it means your fever isn't too high."
"Oh." Both fell silent then, Hiko covering Kenshin with compresses, Kenshin struggling to hold his pain in check. The rain continued to fall as tirelessly as it had begun, and the shadows in the room melded into a misty gray as all remnants of daylight faded.
"I'm going to light the lantern and mix some medicine," Hiko stood as he finished placing the compresses, taking one of the buckets with him. "Rest until I'm back." Kenshin nodded, eyes half closed. He looked exhausted but Hiko doubted he would be able to get a restful sleep. His body was working too hard to heal itself.
Hiko lit the lantern first, its paper sides softening the harsh light of the flame and leaving the room cradled in a smooth glow. The fragrant smell of rapeseed oil began to fill the room as Hiko headed towards the kitchen.
Several mugs sat on the edge of the large stove, and Hiko grabbed one of them. He would fire the oven later−assuming he could find dry wood somewhere in the house. For now, Kenshin would just have to drink the medicine cold.
Hiko stood in the doorway at the rear of kitchen and refilled the bucket, then held the mug out as well, observing the weather as he did so. The rain wasn't falling as aggressively as earlier but it was still coming down in thick sheets. The steady rolls of thunder were accompanied by frequent bursts of lightning that tore at the darkness of the sky. Probably the storm would continue well into the morning. That was good. More time for Kenshin to rest.
Kenshin's eyes were closed when Hiko came back into the room, and for a moment the Hiten Mitsurugi master considered letting his pupil sleep. As Hiko drew closer though, he saw that Kenshin was so soaked in sweat that his body literally glowed in the lamplight. Sleep was out of the question.
"Kenshin," Hiko knelt beside him, taking out the medicine and mixing it into the mug. "Kenshin, wake up." He waited a moment, then placed a hand on Kenshin's arm and shook it lightly, grimacing at the heat that met his hand. No doubt the compresses' effectiveness had expired.
"Tou-san?"
Hiko assumed he had finally drifted into delirium and was seeing things. Kenshin's foggy eyes met his then, and when no light of recognition filled them Hiko realized with a start that the boy was addressing him. He opened his mouth to correct the error but stopped as his hand was suddenly consumed with warmth. Looking down, he saw Kenshin's fingers were wrapped around his, and his eyes were falling closed again. Hiko's mouth snapped shut and his features softened as he pulled his hand from Kenshin's. Better to say nothing and save him more confusion.
"Don't leave, tou-san." Kenshin whimpered in response.
"I'm not leaving." Hiko began removing the heated strips of cloth from Kenshin, placing them into the newly filled water bucket. He positioned a hand under Kenshin's neck afterwards, angling him upwards and bringing the mug of cold medicine towards his mouth. "Drink this."
Kenshin drained the contents with such fervor that Hiko followed the medicine with a cup of plain water. Stupid of him, not to think of dehydration with a fever this high. He'd have to make sure Kenshin drank plenty of water through the night.
Easing his pupil back onto the futon, Hiko once again started the monotonous chore of placing the wet rags across Kenshin's body. Kenshin twitched and made as if to shove them off. "Leave them." Hiko ordered, adding more quietly, "they'll help you feel better."
Even delirious, Kenshin did as he was told. He'd always been obedient to a fault.
"Tou-san," Hiko winced. Kenshin calling him that made him more discomfited than he cared to admit. "I want kaa-san."
Wonderful. Not only was the boy delirious, he wanted someone who wasn't even alive anymore. "She's . . . not here, Kenshin." Kenshin's brow furrowed, and he blinked slowly.
"Why're you calling me that?"
"Calling you−?" Hiko's puzzlement was short-lived. Well, he was already playing a different role, might as well go for broke. "Ah, I meant Shinta."
"That's my name," Kenshin said, sounding more as if he were trying to convince himself than affirming Hiko. "What was that other name?"
"Kenshin." Hiko finished placing the compresses and sat indian-style at Kenshin's side.
"I like that name." Kenshin said dreamily. Hiko watched as his eyes slid shut, stayed that way. He waited a moment, then laid a hand against Kenshin's cheek. It felt marginally cooler, if not anywhere near free of fever. Maybe it was thanks in part to the compresses but hopefully the medicine was already working.
Hiko got to his feet, taking the buckets with him. Kenshin seemed sincerely asleep, even if it was somewhat restless. Now was a good time to try and heat the oven and make some food. Kenshin might not be coherent enough to eat but Hiko was starving. He had a feeling he had a long night ahead of him and that required sustenance.
The kitchen didn't have much in the way of food−just a small bag of rice, some dried mushrooms and a jar of dashi, along with a moderate collection of spices and herbs. It was enough for a simple meal though. Hiko could make a broth with the dashi. It would give Kenshin something in the way of nutrition to fuel his healing body.
Luckily, there were two small piles of firewood next to the oven: one of kindling, the other of neatly hewn logs. Enough for one good fire. Hiko set to work, all the while listening for sounds indicating Kenshin was no longer sleeping. If his deshi woke up and found there was no one with him, there was no telling how he might react.
Being a fair hand in the kitchen, it didn't take Hiko long to cook some rice and season an ample portion of mushrooms. He was hungry enough to consider eating right there over the stove, decided instead he might as well tote the food into the bedroom and see if Kenshin was interested in anything solid. He needed some serious calorie intake. The way he looked, he'd probably already lost half the muscle he'd built up in the past few years. That was mildly annoying; Hiko had worked hard to pack some flesh onto that scrawny body.
Bowl of food in hand, Hiko returned to the bedroom. He didn't expect Kenshin to be awake; certainly didn't expect to see him sitting up. But there he was, sitting with his legs splayed in front of him, staring at the floor with a queasy expression on his face. He looked up when Hiko walked in, clouded eyes focusing on his teacher.
"I don't feel good." Kenshin's voice was hardly audible, and Hiko intuited more than heard what he said.
"Are you just hurting? Or sick?" Don't feel good could cover a multitude of causes.
Kenshin shook his head. "Don't feel good." He repeated, coughing. The deceptively innocuous cough continued, and moments later dark liquid spewed from Kenshin's mouth. The coughing subsided and Kenshin stared at Hiko as if expecting some sort of rebuke. When none came, he hung his head. "Gomen," He was breathing heavily, as if all his energy had just been expended.
Hiko's heart was hammering frantically against his chest. Few things in life had caused it to race as it was now. As he took in the spreading crimson stain at Kenshin's feet he found himself beset by crippling fear, and the food he still held was as good as forgotten.
Blood? He threw up blood? This was far out of his league. It was no longer something his passable medical skills as a swordsman could deal with. He needed to find a doctor or Kenshin would−
Get a grip, Seijuurou, Hiko snapped at himself. Thinking about what would happen wasn't going to accomplish anything. He needed to act. The logical thing to do would be to find a doctor.
In darkness. In a city he didn't know. In the middle of a god-awful rainstorm.
The despair that threatened to engulf him ebbed back into the shadows at a soft exclamation. Hiko looked over sharply. Kenshin had brought one of his hands to his mouth and was staring at it as if fascinated.
"My mouth's bleeding." He sounded as confused as he looked but his expression quickly shifted to worry. "Shishou . . . am I dying?" His eyes met Hiko's, searching for reassurance.
"No." Hiko said shortly, thinking furiously. He almost didn't notice that Kenshin had addressed him correctly. "No, you're not." An idea struck him then, and his lip twisted upwards. Hattori had said to call for him if necessary. Now seemed necessary. He wasn't sure of the doctor's exact location but it couldn't be too far from Naosuke's residence.
"Kenshin," Hiko surveyed his student. He was in horrible condition to be carted around in the rain, but Hiko couldn't leave him here. Not as he was now. He didn't know how much time he had.
"What, shishou?"
"We need to leave. This place has a bad atmosphere." He was careful not to mention anything pertaining to Kenshin's condition. The boy didn't need to be upset by anything else.
"You're not going to eat first?"
Hiko blinked, realizing then he was still holding the bowl of food he'd made. Typical of his deshi to notice something that didn't even matter. Hiko eyed the bowl of rice and mushrooms, then threw back his head and dumped the contents into his mouth. He imagined it must look ridiculous. "There. Satisfied?"
Kenshin's eyes were on Hiko's face, but the odd twitch in his mouth and lowered chin suggested he was trying to hold back laughter.
"Am I amusing you?" Hiko asked with mock sternness. Kenshin's eyes fell then and he choked back what might have been a giggle.
"No, shishou."
"Good. A master of Hiten Mitsurugi should never be amusing."
"No, shishou," Kenshin agreed, although a wide grin split his face now.
Well, at least he could still crack a smile. It probably wouldn't last long once they started moving though. "I'm going to move fast, Kenshin." Hiko warned, crouching alongside his deshi. "Are you ready?" Kenshin nodded tightly, body tensed even before Hiko scooped him up.
With one arm securely wrapped around Kenshin, Hiko pulled the Hiten mantle over his head so it would at least give him marginal shelter from the pouring rain. If nothing else, Kenshin was completely covered.
The staccato plip of rain intensified as Hiko stepped out of the house and onto the porch. It was almost serendipitous that the storm was still raging. There would be no one casting curious glances his way, and the frequent lightning would provide him a clear image of the roads and signs.
A loud peal of thunder drowned out the rain's din for a brief second and Hiko felt Kenshin start. A cough shook his body immediately afterwards. The muffled sound dispelled any reservations Hiko might have had about braving the elements while they were still in such turmoil. At the next burst of lightning he was off the porch, keeping the mantle tightly closed in front of him even as his speed caused it to flare behind him. His face was instantly needled with rain, the wind driving it into his eyes with painful force, but he didn't succumb to the urge to lower his head and shield his eyes.
He'd already decided to restrict his initial search to the heart of the town. That was where there would be the most business, and where any doctor who wished for affluence would keep his practice. It was still a lot of ground to cover, considering that he held a child who was coughing blood. But it was all he had left.
Hiko sped through the rain-darkened evening, noticing as the houses became more closely spaced and jumbled together the farther he moved from Naosuke's residence. He was moving away from the Imperial dwellings and into the common sector of Edo. Every now and again he got a glimpse of a placard hanging outside a building, and he read each with expectancy: Sumimura dojo; money exchange; another dojo. He kept moving, refusing to be disheartened, eyes straining only for one thing.
He almost missed it. The building was small and unremarkable, positioned at the corner of an intersection that looked like it would be bustling on a pleasant day. He would have run right by except for the well-timed blaze of light that seared the heavens and lit all of Edo at exactly the right moment. The lightning illuminated a sign just beside the door and Hiko screeched to a stop even as he read it, water pluming behind him before crashing to the ground.
"Public Walk-in Clinic." Hiko skimmed over the first several lines describing the clinic, looking for the physician's name. His gaze drifted to the bottom of the sign, stopping on a name written with bold strokes. He read it carefully, then stepped under the scantily covered entryway and rang the bell beside the door of the Hattori clinic.
You don't want to know how much time I spent translating the fine print on the sign outside Gensai's clinic to help me come up with a legitimate doctor's sign. I think I could have made something up that sounded as legit as "walk-in clinic." Ah well, enjoy the experience, right? On a brief side note, does anyone ever wonder at the amount of blood (or consecutive number of times) anime characters seem to cough up and then be completely fine afterwards aside from a bruise or two? This has always astounded me (I'm not sure why, because my brain is completely fine with people moving at ridiculously fast speeds and ostensibly flying).
Thanks to all my readers, super thanks to my reviewers!
HitenRyu - Glad you're enjoying the story! I must admit though, the second part of your review confused me a little.
Kaida Ukitake - Whoo fight scenes! They're challenging to write but the end result is always fun. Heh, I think "epic" is just a synonym for "Hiko."
Althea M - Yes, I imagine Kenshin was pretty pleased with Hiko's decision on who to save, too. ;) They are in something of a bind now, huh? Trust Hiko to figure something out!
one-who-loves-sesshy - Kenshin's bound to have a few vain moments sometime in the future for surviving this, huh?
t42n24t - Happy late birthday! Hope it was tons of fun. I have to say, I kind of (purposefully) set Hiko up for a fail when I began the story. I wanted to throw a kind of loss at him, see how he would deal with that. There'll be some more Hiko introspection on that in the next chapter. Haha, yeah, money seems like it might be an issue. And I might be tempted to just gloss over how that little problem is taken care of. I suppose Hiko can start making special orders of pottery if need be. ;)